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Faith has come to realise that there are some perks to having almost died while staving off the apocalypse. Those being in addition to the fact that, hey, the world didn't end.
For one, the people who used to eye her with the same trepidation one might exhibit while watching a "tamed" tiger out on the prowl, now look at her with significantly less concern. She figures there must be something about putting your life on the line to save others that just instills a certain level of trust in those around you.
It's kind of strange to no longer feel like a murderous delinquent whenever she walks into a room. To have people approach her without feeling like she's surrounded by walls of caution tape.
She's not sure how to deal with it.
Another benefit is that you're automatically given some time off. Evil tends to take a bit of a breather after big events like this, so all's been quiet on the big bad front. Which means the potentials - slayerettes, whatever they're calling themselves now - have taken over the evening patrols while they travel from town to town, and she and Buffy are constantly being given explicit orders to "take a break."
Which, to be honest, is a concept Faith had assumed Buffy wouldn't be capable of entertaining, much less doing. So she's surprised to find herself proven wrong almost immediately.
She's not about to say anything. She's half afraid Buffy's forgotten herself in some sort of stress-induced bout of amnesia brought on by the whole aforementioned apocalypse thing and Faith doesn't want to risk reminding her that she's usually a tightly wound hard ass in desperate need of loosening up. Plus, it's nice to see.
But she keeps that to herself.
It's also weirdly nice to experience. To be in Buffy's presence when she's laid back and as close to relaxed as Faith can remember seeing her. And in another unexpected turn, Faith finds that they're occupying the same spaces more frequently. Or more specifically, that Buffy is willingly putting herself into rooms and areas that Faith is already in, and she doesn't know if that's because the rest of the Scoobs are giving them a wide berth on purpose or if it's the whole 'slayer' thing.
It's always drawn them together. Faith's pretty sure that feeling had been the main reason she'd ended up in Sunnydale in the first place. Sure, she'd known that's where the other Slayer lived and yes, she would have made her way there regardless, but she hadn't been able to ignore that almost physical, tangible pull.
It's always there. Even now. Even when neither of them want it to be. They're bonded in a way no one but the two of them can understand, not even the newbies. It isn't the same. They get each other on a level other people can't comprehend.
It's why it hurt so much to shut Buffy out after the whole Deputy Mayor thing.
It's why it hurt to realise that she and Buffy maybe weren't exactly the same after all.
It's why it hurt to have Buffy look at her like the murderer she'd become.
It's why she went all in so hard on trying to kill Buffy and, like, everyone she loved. Multiple times.
Look, their road has been long and winding, and was literally turned to rubble and became impassable at certain intersections, but somehow they've managed to find a way around it all - another perk of the apocalypse. And so now when Faith feels that pull, it's fine. She doesn't try to turn it off or push it away, she just lets it be, and apparently Buffy is doing the same. They're spending increasingly more of their 'chill time' together and there's a weird level of comfort to being in one another's presence. It's like being alone, but there's another person there.
It's hard to explain.
So, Faith tries not to dwell or think about it too much. If she's sitting in an armchair on one end of the motel room and Buffy happens to walk in after knocking once, book in hand, then drops into a matching chair near the window on the opposite side, Faith doesn't bat an eyelid anymore. She just shuts up and enjoys this new closeness. Doesn't even want to question it, in case she scares it away.
It reminds her of those early days, when they'd been well on the road to becoming really solid friends and the biggest headaches she'd had were Homecoming and the intense desire to pummel that dweeb who had jerked Buffy around like a chew toy.
Faith's lips twitch into a smirk as she recalls the delight with which she'd humiliated whats-his-crotch. Sure, she'd wanted to do way worse - she's never enjoyed seeing Buffy upset unless she was the one causing it, but those thoughts have long since been left on the couch of her prison-mandated therapist - but man, it had felt good at the time.
"What are you smiling about?"
Startled out of her reverie, Faith jumps a little in her seat and her heels slip off the edge of the small writing desk she'd had her feet propped up on, landing against the motel carpet with a soft thud. She glances over to where Buffy is curled on her side on top of the twin bed, worn paperback still in her grip but now resting facedown atop the duvet.
"What?" Faith frowns, schooling her features.
"You were smiling."
"No I wasn't." She isn't even sure why she's arguing. Instinct, maybe? Her go-to gut reaction where Buffy is involved? A bad habit, surely, but not one she's about to back down from while Buffy is squinting at her, curious and unconvinced.
"I know what a smile looks like." Buffy sits up to stretch, leaving her book where it is and lifting her arms above her head, eyes never leaving the other woman. "Even on you. Even if you like, barely ever do it."
"I smile," Faith croaks. "Just…" she drops her gaze, picking at a piece of invisible lint on the oversized flannel shirt she wears to bed, "not right now." She looks up again. Finds it much easier to lie to Buffy these days when she isn't doing it directly to her face.
"Whatever." Buffy rolls her eyes but she's the one smiling now and Faith feels a different kind of pull trying to get her attention.
That one she does shove down.
"Guess I better head to my room. Willow should be back any minute with the newbie patrol." Buffy slides off the bed, grabbing her book, and stands.
Faith watches. Doesn't say anything until, "Yeah, I wouldn't want them knowing I was hanging out with an ex-con either." Then without stopping to think about what she's said, furrows her brow and considers, "Current-con? I'm technically still on the run so-"
"Faith, no, I didn't mean it like that. I'm not hiding-"
"It's cool, B." She shrugs, even though her words are finally sinking in and making her limbs feel like lead. "I get it."
"No, you don't," Buffy snaps, eyes flashing, and it's a testament to how much she's grown as a person that Faith just shuts up. "No one thinks about you like that anymore." Faith gives her a pointed stare and without even having to speak, Buffy knows what she's saying. "Willow is… complicated. But," Buffy gestures to the curtained windows behind her and to the world beyond the room, "you helped save the world. You were there for us when we needed you. When I needed you." Buffy pauses, swallows hard, and Faith bites down on the inside of her cheek to stop whatever is swelling inside her chest from coming up into her throat. "We've all done stuff we aren't proud of, but you put your life on the line when there was no guarantee any of us were going to survive. And I think that goes a long way towards exonerating past mistakes. At least, it does in my books."
And truth be told, Buffy's book is the only one she's ever really cared about.
But Faith will never say that out loud. So, she does what she always does when things become too emotionally uncomfortable for her.
"Tell that to my parole officer." She tries to diffuse the stifling sensation of having feelings with dark humour.
"Do you get one of those if you break out of prison?" And, thankfully, Buffy lets her.
"Remind me tomorrow, I'll call and ask."
That had been two months ago, which had been an indeterminable amount of time after staving off the end of the world - because time doesn't mean anything when you're trapped on a bus with like twenty other people - and now, roughly two weeks removed from first rolling over State lines into Ohio, Faith finds herself standing in the snow next to Buffy at a bus station in Cleveland, saying goodbye.
"You're sure you have everything?" Buffy asks, eyes already shining in the weak Winter sunlight.
"Pretty sure. At least, I did the last three times you made me check."
"You have your tickets? And the lunch Dawnie packed for you?"
Faith's pretty sure Buffy's stalling. Hoping to wait out the inevitable.
"The two sandwiches, pepperoni sticks and dunkaroos." A hand is raised and a finger is extended for each item. "Yes."
"And the apple?"
"And the apple."
"What about-"
"B." Faith watches as that single syllable unseats Buffy's attention and swivels it sideways so that they're looking at each other. "He's a big boy." The way she says it isn't unkind; it's gentle, reassuring, and not at all demeaning to the man in front of them.
"I know," she says, voice a little squeaky, as she turns back to him to repeat the sentiment more firmly. "I know. I'm just… I'm really gonna…" she can't quite finish and, thankfully, he doesn't expect her to.
"Me too," Xander tells her, standing on the first step in the middle of the bus doorway. He smiles at her and holds his arms out, and Buffy buries herself in his embrace. Faith watches his one good eye close as they hug and drops her gaze to where she's scuffing her foot into the snow covering the sidewalk until she sees his gloved hand waving in her periphery.
She looks up again and sees he's looking at her now, beckoning her closer. A noise, she isn't sure what kind, gets caught in the back of her throat and she's about to protest when she feels her own body betraying her. Her feet, specifically, which take her closer without her conscious consent and put her within grabbing reach.
He pulls her in and the three of them stand there in an awkward embrace, half in and half out of a packed mode of public transportation. The driver is very clearly ready to leave the station and he looks like he's about to say something until Faith shoots him a glare over Xander's shoulder that makes him think twice. He stays silent.
It's not like she cares but she'll be damned if his impatience costs Buffy her much needed time to say goodbye.
She pulls away first, feeling a little sad but mostly fine until Buffy follows her lead and Faith can see the tear tracks streaking her cheeks. The sight twists at her like a knife in her gut.
Which, yeah. She can confidently say that's a pretty accurate comparison.
Her fingers flex, then clench into fists and loosen again, like they're itching to do something. So she shoves her hands deep into the pockets of her jacket to stop herself from reaching out.
She only realises Xander is watching her when he looks away, back to Buffy, who he blinks a glassy eye at before he pulls her in for one last hug. Faith watches as he tilts his head to whisper something into her ear, but she can't see Buffy's face to gauge any reaction and isn't about to take advantage of her Slayer hearing, so she doesn't even wonder about it.
"Okay," Buffy says, like it's some big announcement, as she puts distance between herself and the bus this time, and shakes her hands out at her sides as though doing so will help stave off a fresh wave of tears. "You should probably go before the driver gets mad."
"Pretty sure he's a few stops past mad," Faith comments, but shrugs her shoulders and then gestures to their surroundings. "Comes with the territory though, so sucks to be him." She raises her voice a little on the last part, just in case the driver is listening and mostly so Buffy will do that smile-eye roll combo thing she sometimes does. Her efforts do not go unrewarded.
"It's fine." Xander pulls back the sleeve of his coat to glance down at an imaginary watch. "If we leave now, I might still make it on time for Christmas." He lets his sleeve fall back down and grins at Buffy, boyish and goofy.
Faith wonders how he's managed to hold onto that, after all the crap he's seen and been through.
"Okay, okay. I get it." Buffy's cheeks are a little red and Faith wonders if she's actually embarrassed or if the colour is from the cold. "This is me backing away." She takes an exaggerated step backwards until she's up on the curb again, standing beside Faith. "And reluctantly letting you leave." She smiles at him but it's sad and her eyes are watery again.
Something uncomfortable wriggles between Faith's ribs.
She wonders if she can cut it out.
"Call when you get there, okay?" Buffy's saying, as Xander turns to walk fully onto the bus, and he promises to do just that. "Be safe. I love you."
"Love you too, Buff." His eyes find hers again and for one stomach-sinking second, she thinks he's going to say it to her as well. "Bye, Faith." His one eye twinkles. "Look after our girl, okay?" And then the noisy hydraulics are spitting out sound and the doors are closing, and he's waving at them from the aisle as the bus pulls away.
They stand there in the gently falling snow, their breaths misting in the air in front of them, until the bus turns a corner and is gone from their line of sight. Buffy watching it go, Faith watching Buffy. She's crying again, big tears that catch the light and sparkle like diamonds for half a second.
Faith wants to reach out to wipe them away.
She winds the inner lining of her pockets into a death grip instead.
"Well, that sucked." Buffy finally says and Faith takes that as a sign that it's okay for her to speak now.
"Yeah." Not that she has anything profound to offer. They turn to head back through the station, back outside to where Faith's car is parked because Buffy still hates driving and would genuinely rather use public transport. Their elbows bump as they walk, but neither one makes an effort to put any more distance between them. "Pizza and beers? My treat." Faith offers, turning her head to look at Buffy, who's wiping at her eyes again.
She's rewarded with an unexpected laugh, a short burst of sound that's accompanied by a smile and a shake of a head, and Faith doesn't understand the reaction but Buffy is glancing sidelong at her and nodding, and she decides the reason doesn't really matter.
It's just the three of them after that.
They don't discuss living together, it's just one of those things that kind of happens without anyone saying anything. One minute their boots were touching ground in Cleveland, the next Buffy's talking about apartment hunting and asking Faith opinions on square footage, and then there's a two bedroom with a loft and she's making breakfast for Dawn before school.
She isn't really sure how this happened.
Also doesn't really care to ask.
"Tara made the best pancakes," Dawn tells her one morning, looking down at her plate as Faith flips a second pancake onto it. Dawn's head snaps up suddenly, her eyes wide. "Not-not that yours aren't great," she rushes to say, as Faith makes her way back across the kitchen to turn the stove off. "They are. They're super great, I just meant-"
"Breathe, kid." Faith cuts her off, looking back over her shoulder with a raised eyebrow. "It takes more than insulting my cooking to hurt my feelings." She smiles at Dawn and earns a tentative one in return. She checks the status of the batter in the bowl she'd used to mix everything together and determines there's still enough to make Buffy a couple of pancakes if she wants them when she gets up. "So, what made them the best?"
Dawn grabs the bottle of syrup and pours an ungodly amount over her breakfast, and Faith is pretty sure that amount of sugar would make anything taste good.
"She always made funny shaped ones. Which I did think was some kind of magical breakfast trick until I realised she just couldn't make round ones." She smiles at the memory and uses the edge of her fork to cut a chunk out of one of the pancakes. "She'd always say they tasted better than the regular boring ones and she was right." Dawn lifts her gaze from where syrup is dripping off the end of her fork and looks over at Faith. "But I think it was just 'cause she was the one making them, you know?"
Faith doesn't know. She's never had anyone like that in her life. She's never missed anyone in that way before.
"Yeah." But she nods anyway, moving to the sink to wash her hands. "Sounds like she was a rad chick. I wish I could have actually gotten to know her." She wipes them on the towel hanging over the handle of the oven. "Even if her pancakes were better than mine."
"Who's what were better than what?" Buffy croaks, shuffling into the kitchen and rubbing at her eye with the back of her hand like a sleepy toddler.
"Tara's pancakes," Dawn says with her mouth full. Buffy needs a few extra seconds to translate and when she does, she blinks, surprised, and lets her arm fall back to her side, suddenly looking a little more awake.
"Apparently better than mine." Faith doesn't clock the reaction for what it is, wouldn't know, and when she shoots Buffy a wry smile it's returned with ease.
"Well, yours aren't funny shaped." Buffy slides onto a stool next to Dawn at the kitchen island and Faith wordlessly turns to flick the burner back on.
"That's what I said," Dawn laughs and Faith shakes her head, smiling down as she pours batter into the frying pan.
"If you guys really want Franken-cakes, I can start mangling them on the way out." She tosses the offer over her shoulder and watches for a second as Buffy, in turn, watches Dawn finishing the last of her breakfast.
"Nope." The stool screeches across the floor as Dawn pushes it back from the island and hops down. "Yours are great. I've gotta run."
A few moments later, she's in her jacket and lugging her bag onto her shoulder, grumbling as Buffy yells at her to put a hat on as she passes through the kitchen on the way to the front door. Then she's through it, hat firmly on her head, and Buffy and Faith are alone again.
"She doesn't ever really talk about her, you know," Buffy says after a moment of silence, as Faith brings over a plate with three pancakes on it. "Tara." She thanks Faith and digs in.
"Oh." Brow furrowed, she walks back to the stove to turn it off again. "Should I not have-"
"No, it's good," Buffy swiftly cuts her concern off at the pass. "I mean, I think it's good that she's that comfortable with you. Trusts you."
"Oh." And something almost entirely unfamiliar swells inside Faith at that.
Trust is a funny thing for her. She hasn't had a lot of it. Isn't used to it. It feels like a newborn baby in her hands.
"They were really close. Especially after mom." Buffy goes on to say, looking down as she cuts into her food. "That day, when Tara…" she pokes at a piece with the prongs of her fork without looking up. "Dawn was the one who found her."
"Shit." Faith's stomach turns at the thought. She's seen enough dead bodies for a lifetime; enough to know Dawn doesn't deserve that kind of trauma. "Poor kid."
"Yeah." Buffy swallows thickly. "We didn't know." She rushes to defend herself and then seems to think better of it. As if she realises she doesn't need to. "Xander was with me when I got shot. We thought I was the only one. Everything was kind of crazy and then Willow…." Buffy trails off with a heavy sigh and then gives Faith a weak smile. "I'm glad she talks to you, is all."
For a few seconds, Faith is stunned.
Because there had been a time when Buffy wouldn't have wanted Faith within a hundred miles of her little sister. Rightfully so. Still, it's a monumental shift. The kind you don't notice day to day, until suddenly it's so painfully visible, it's unavoidable.
And then it all hits you at once.
So, they live together. And Dawn is going to school and Giles has stayed nearby for the time being because Cleveland is on another Hellmouth and he wants to make sure his two long-in-the-tooth-by-this-point Slayers know what they're doing. Buffy tells her she's pretty sure he just wants a reason to hang around and that she's fine with all of his micromanaging so long as he's happy staying.
It's been hard on Buffy, watching everyone slowly leave. Faith has seen it first hand but stayed quiet, a silent pillar for Buffy to lean against if she needs to rest a while in her weary grief. The slayerettes had been some of the first to peel out, wanting to go off and save the world their own way. Andrew had taken a number of them under his wing, like some wannabe Watcher, and Willow had gone along to make sure they settled in okay wherever they decided to put down roots. Only she'd found somewhere along the way that felt like it could one day be home and put down roots herself.
Faith thinks that one still stings a bit. That Willow never came back. That Buffy never had the chance to actually say goodbye. Faith had tried to be positive and tell her that it wasn't like they'd never see each other again but she doesn't think that really helped.
Xander was the last to go. She's pretty sure Buffy had been assuming he wouldn't leave, that he'd want to stay close, so that had come as a bit of a shock. But it makes sense, Faith thinks, for him and for Willow too, to want to go and explore the world. They'd been bound, however willingly, to Sunnydale for so long, now that they didn't have that tether anymore it was only natural that the rest of the world would start calling to them.
Buffy didn't need them anymore, technically speaking, not with two Slayers watching over one Hellmouth.
Sometimes Faith wonders if Buffy ever resents her for staying. If she would have rather Faith moved on if it meant the others would have stayed.
She never asks.
So, yeah. They live together. But they never talk about it.
It's just another one of those things that happens without anyone really noticing. A creeping inevitability.
They don't talk about it and it just happens, and it's fine. It feels fine.
It feels good.
It's the most stable Faith has ever felt in her life.
And normally that would scare the ever loving shit out of her, but maybe prison really does change a person.
"You're different, you know."
Buffy says this to her out of the blue one night. Dawn's somewhere with friends and they're sitting in companionable silence on opposite sides of the living room. Buffy's curled into an armchair with a book while Faith is lazily stretched out across the couch, using the remote in her hand to flick through muted television channels.
At first, she's taken aback by the words, the sentiment behind them, and the sincerity in Buffy's voice. They make her throat feel like it's closing and for a second, she forgets how to breathe or swallow; a large majority of her base motor functions just up and fail until her brain can reboot. She stares at Buffy, outstretched arm dropping to rest on her stomach.
"So are you," she finally manages, gesturing to the book hanging limp in one of Buffy's hands. "Don't think I ever saw you holding one of those back in the day that wasn't hiding a trashy teen mag behind it."
Buffy's lips curl up into a smile and she chuckles, shaking her head.
"I mean it. You're like…" she pauses, forehead creasing as she searches for the right word.
"Less insane?" Faith offers, quirking an eyebrow in Buffy's direction and getting a scowl for her efforts.
"I'm trying to be sincere." The admonishment, while accompanied by a glare, is weak and doesn't actually do much to ward Faith off, but she decides to play nice for the moment. Even though her skin prickles uncomfortably under this kind of attention, this kind of praise, she bites the inside of her cheek and stays quiet. "I know we've been through a lot and that most of it was bad. I… I spent a long time hating you. I can't pretend I didn't."
And it stings to hear but Faith can't sit there and act like she didn't hate Buffy at times, too. She's never hated anyone that fiercely before and she's pretty sure that has everything to do with their connection. They feel more where the other is involved, for better or worse.
"But even then it felt better wanting to have you as a friend, than it did dealing with you as the enemy." Buffy draws in a long breath and holds it, looking at the wall behind Faith. "That really, really sucked." And Faith's stomach falls out through the bottom of the couch she's lying on because Buffy looks like she's close to tears and Faith still doesn't know how to handle the intense desire she gets to hug and hold her that overtakes her during moments like these. "I guess I'm just glad we get a second chance."
And Faith is too, of course she is. She just doesn't know how to say those words, not when she means them. Thankfully, Buffy seems to be as proficient as ever at reading her mind and saves her from having to.
"That you're sane enough these days to recognise when you've got a good thing and not completely self-destruct over it is really just a bonus." She says, matter-of-factly, with a grin and Faith lets out a low chuckle, scooting higher on the couch so that her shoulders are propped up against the arm.
"Oh yeah?" Faith smirks, settling into the same comfortable flirtation that has carried so many of their conversations over the years. "You the good thing?" She smiles wolfishly over at Buffy, waiting for the awkward blush that usually colours the older woman's cheeks whenever Faith is this brazen in her teasing.
But it never arrives.
"Yeah," Buffy says, quiet, like a secret, and Faith finds she can't keep up the bravado in the face of such sincerity. Swallows it down, almost alongside her own tongue, as the cocky smile slips slowly off her face and something inside her melts, spreading warmth through the rest of her body.
"Okay, I think I just have Rhonda left to buy for them and then I'm done." Dawn is scrolling through, presumably, a list of names on her phone as she and Faith amble through the increasingly busy corridors of the local mall. She isn't sure why she'd promised to accompany Dawn on her Christmas shopping excursion, but she definitely remembers saying she would and so she hadn't been able to even feign ignorance when Dawn had announced that morning that the day had finally arrived.
Buffy hadn't so much as offered to rescue her. She'd just flashed Faith a shit-eating-grin and told them both to enjoy themselves.
"So," Dawn glances askance at Faith, eyes twinkling and mouth slightly curved like she's hiding a fun little secret, "what did you get for my sister?"
If Faith had been on the sidelines witnessing her next actions like an innocent bystander, she probably would have been as amused as anyone, watching someone come to a grinding halt in the middle of the sidewalk with a look of abject horror on their face.
She pivots on a heel to stare at Dawn.
"I have to get your sister something?" Dread slithers through her and the back of her neck starts to sweat despite the chill in the air. Dawn stares at her, gaping like a goldfish until her expression turns into one of mild annoyance. Equal parts outrage, frustration, and whatever best describes a person seemingly at their wits end.
"Oh my god, you guys are hopeless," Dawn finally mutters, mostly to herself. Then she grabs Faith by the elbow and spins them both around so they can walk back the way they'd come.
Faith lets herself be blindly led and reflects, not for the first time, on how she seems to have made a habit out of following the Summers women without question.
She trails after Dawn as they backtrack through a handful of stores they'd either passed or gone into earlier, and she's steadfastly forbidden from entering the army surplus store boasting a large collection of knives via a sign in the front window.
"You're not buying my sister a dagger for Christmas," Dawn scoffs as Faith stops to look in through the glass.
"A fancy dagger," Faith stresses, but Dawn is already pulling her away by the cuff of her jacket. "And she likes weapons!"
"I am not," Dawn grumbles, releasing her hold in favour of jabbing Faith in the stomach, "letting you get her something she can claim as a work expense."
They end up in a place where Faith couldn't feel more uncomfortable if she tried; a jewellery store. Neither of them really look like they belong there, but Dawn doesn't seem to feel as out of place as Faith probably looks. She keeps twitching and looking around, rubbing her palms over jean-covered sides.
"Will you stop it?" Dawn punctuations her admonishment by slapping at Faith's hands. "They're going to think we're here to steal something."
"I wouldn't even know what would be worth stealing." Faith muses, dryly, looking around, glancing into the many display cases. "Does Buffy even like this stuff?"
"I wouldn't have brought you in here to buy her something if she didn't," Dawn points out, all droll sarcasm that Faith would appreciate if it weren't being directed at her.
"Okay but is it something I should be getting for her?" She isn't sure what exactly it is about this that's leaving her feeling unsettled. Friends buy each other friends shiny shit, right? She's never really had friends, so she doesn't have a frame of reference for this stuff. "It feels kinda…"
"Oh my god, you're not proposing." But if Dawn's eyeroll is anything to go by, Faith is being ridiculous. "Just get her a necklace or something." She looks a lot like Buffy when she's annoyed.
"Does she wear necklaces?" Faith stops in front of a glass fronted display shelf full of neck-centric pieces and bends at the waist to get a better look.
"She wore the one Angel got her for years," Dawn replies, offhandedly, and yeah, Faith thinks she remembers that. "She just doesn't have one she likes right now."
But she still isn't sure and she glances over at Dawn again without straightening.
"And you think she'll like one from me?" She doesn't get an eyeroll for her troubles this time, but rather a slightly less suffering nod.
"I do."
Faith heaves a sigh, breathes out a, "Whatever you say, kid," and goes back to browsing.
Immediately, it's a nightmare of indecision. There are so many styles and colours, so many variants and things to consider. And somehow they all manage to look largely the same. Eventually though, Faith spots one she kind of likes the look of.
"What about this one?" Faith points to a simple triangle shaped pendant on a dainty chain. A red stone has been cut to the same three-point shape and is set into the center.
"Why that one?" Dawn asks, coming over to look down into the display case.
"It's not the same boring shape as all the others. And it's a garnet." When Faith only receives a blank stare, she elaborates. "Buffy's birthstone?" An expression passes over Dawn's face that's too quick for even a Slayer to catch and then she's trying to wrestle her grin into submission, and mostly failing. Faith rolls her eyes. "If you don't think she'll like it, you can just say that. You don't have to-"
"That's not-"
"I don't know jack about this stuff."
"You know more than you think." Dawn waves the saleswoman over. "She'll love it."
"For real?" Faith spends another few seconds making sure she doesn't see anything she thinks Buffy might like better. She doesn't. "It's no dagger but… okay. Sweet." She jabs her finger down onto the glass above the necklace and then looks towards the saleswoman. "I'll take that one."
The winter days trickle from one to another, like lazy rivulets on a rain-spattered window that start their slide slow and pick up speed towards the bottom, and just like that it's Christmas Eve in Cleveland.
The three of them have spent the day alternating between Christmas movies and board games that Faith pretends to hate but secretly loves. Bowls of varying types of seasonal goodies are spread across the island and picked through over the course of the day, each being refilled as necessary, and Faith is pretty sure Dawn has ingested enough hot chocolate that the mere idea of how much has almost put Faith herself into a sugar coma.
Willow had sent everyone matching pajamas in the mail - early enough that the packages had arrived before the end of November, because she's just smart like that - and they'd all changed into them and crowded around Dawn's laptop screen to video call her and Xander. They'd blinked onto the screen wearing the same pajamas, snacks at hand, all comfortably settled in to watch A Charlie Brown Christmas together, even though they were miles apart.
Willow had even sent Faith a pair of pajamas.
"I kinda thought she still hated me," Faith had said, shock riddling her tone as she looked down at the neatly folded apparel Buffy had pulled out of the box and dropped into her hands. Then, noticing the cheerful reindeers on them, added, "Maybe she still does." Buffy laughed.
"Willow's just… wary." She lifted a shoulder in a half shrug. "She's trying."
And Faith knows that, had seen it before Willow peaced out of Cleveland, but it's still a weird feeling.
But then, there seems to be a lot of those going around.
It's getting late now and the three of them are strewn across the living room like haphazardly discarded articles of clothing. Dawn's draped sideways in the plush recliner in the corner, legs slung over one arm while her head is propped on the other. White Christmas is playing on the television, volume low, and she's watching it from beneath sleep-heavy eyelids. The glow from the Christmas tree is lighting her from the back and making her look like an angel.
Buffy doing the same, lying on her side with her head resting on a pillow, her lower half covered by the small afghan Anya had knitted her for Christmas a few years back after she'd discovered and taken up the hobby. She'd gotten bored of it after about three months, but it had been long enough for her to supply everyone with a hand-made gift that year, which had delighted her to no end because, "Someone was throwing away a perfectly good bag of yarn. I didn't even have to spend any money!" Buffy insists it's been washed many times since then. It's big enough that it covers her from about her midriff to her ankles, leaving her fuzzy-socked feet sticking out of the end. Feet that had ended up in Faith's lap somewhere during the first third of the movie. Buffy had stretched, straightening her legs until they came to rest atop Faith's upper thighs and had left them there without a word.
Faith's own legs are stretched out too, bridging the gap between couch and coffee table, and she's watching the moving images change on the screen without really seeing them. Elbow braced against the arm of the couch, her head is leaning heavily against her open palm as she blinks sleepily. Her other hand has ended up on Buffy's ankle at some point, just resting there for the longest time but she suddenly realises her thumb has been brushing back and forth across the swell of the bone, swiping patterns over the peak of it, for who knows how long. She freezes, thumb hovering and twitching above Buffy's skin as her brain tries to put together what's happening without short circuiting.
She pointedly does not look at Buffy. Doesn't so much as let her eyes slide to their corners to check. She knows Buffy's awake, can tell by the cadence of her breaths, and it's not like she's pulled her feet back or used them to kick Faith's hand away. So, screw it.
Her thumb resumes its stroking, the pad of it tingling now with every brush.
The movie finishes and the credits begin to roll, and Dawn lets out the loudest yawn Faith has ever heard. Then she smacks her lips and smiles sleepily at them, before announcing that she's going to bed.
"Hey, no, you have to open a gift first." Buffy swings her legs out of Faith's lap and stands, shuffling over to the Christmas tree. Faith straightens and sits forward, forearms resting on her knees as she watches Dawn roll her eyes and move into a proper sitting position.
"Buffy, I'm not five anymore." But she's smiling like she isn't going to fight her sister on this one. Doesn't make any move to stand up or vacate the room, even as Buffy is bending down to search for a specific present that she'd wrapped and put under the tree a few days earlier. She finds it with a triumphant cry and snags it, narrowing her eyes at Dawn as she holds it out for her to take.
"Summers' House tradition." She says it like she's expecting Dawn to put up a playful argument. "The baby gets to open one present on Christmas Eve."
"Except I'm not a baby anymore," Dawn points out. Takes the offered gift anyway.
"Strictly speaking, as the youngest, you'll always be the baby," Buffy points out, amusement curving her upper lips as she adds, "You're only a baby sometimes." As if to prove her point, Dawn sticks her tongue out at her sister and Faith lets out a throaty chuckle as she watches the proceedings, feeling warm and fuzzy in a way that makes her want to sink into the couch.
Dawn opens the small square box and finds a gift card for the local coffee shop inside. She seems delighted and hugs Buffy, kissing both her cheeks, then announces she's going to bed. She tells them not to stay up too late, that Santa won't visit if they're still awake, and they wave her away with smiles and goodnights.
Faith shuts off the television and the room darkens, lit now only by the light of the Christmas tree.
"You don't get to open one early?" Faith asks, pushing herself off the couch and approaching Buffy, who shakes her head.
"Not since Dawn was old enough to open her own." She doesn't seem particularly bothered by this, but furrows her brow after a second. "I guess I could have. I never really thought about it. That was just always what we did. The tradition was the baby."
"We could start a new tradition?" Faith offers. She realises what she's said, the implications of it, too late. Tradition suggests annual, which in turn insinuates Faith will still be here in a year, or two, or five, and honestly, she isn't sure if Buffy will want her around that long. She already kind of feels like she's pushing her luck.
Always waiting for the other shoe to drop or the rug to be pulled out from under her.
So, to hide any feelings that might be showing on her face, she bends down to snatch a similarly shaped gift to the one Buffy had handed Dawn moments ago off of a small pile of presents.
"Here. You can open the one from me." She hands it to Buffy, who stares at her with something akin to wonder and moves on autopilot as she takes the gift and clutches it to her chest.
"You got me something?" She blinks starry eyes that seem to shimmer in the multicoloured glow of the Christmas lights and Faith has the distinct feeling that all of her breath is being swiftly siphoned out of her lungs by some unseen force.
"Yeah." Her voice actually croaks and she has to fight to ignore the mortification trying to crawl up the back of her throat. "It um," she pauses, trying to think of words that will sound good but can't, and just shakes her head, shoving her hands down into the pockets of her pajama bottoms. "Open it." Buffy hesitates. "G-man is gonna be here tomorrow and I don't wanna ruin my rep, so…." She inclines her head towards Buffy, towards the gift. "Open it."
Wearing a small smile, Buffy does as she's told and digs her fingers underneath the folded edges of the wrapping paper, tearing it open with ease. She crumples the torn paper in her hand and then pulls the remnants from the front of the box before doing the same and turning it over. It's one of those boxes that the lid lifts off of and so Faith takes the discarded paper from Buffy so she can hold the bottom of the box in one hand and remove the top with the other.
Buffy stares down at the necklace.
Buffy stares, silent as is typical for the Night Before Christmas.
Buffy stares, silent, for so long that Faith starts to worry she'd somehow mixed up boxes. That maybe the woman at the jewellery store was secretly some kind of psycho and had put a severed toe inside instead when she and Dawn weren't looking.
She isn't sure how she's going to explain that away.
I know I've murdered people but I swear, that isn't mine.
Thankfully, she's saved by Buffy.
Not the first time, not the last.
"You…." she trails off, shaking her head in disbelief before she finally looks up at Faith. "You got this… for me?"
"I mean," Faith laughs, nervously. Her throat feels tight. "I had some help shopping for it but, uh, yeah."
Buffy is looking at her like Faith just handed her a star in a box and Faith is pretty sure she's sweating. This suddenly feels like a much bigger deal than it had been a moment ago. She thinks that has everything to do with Buffy's eyes; swirling greens and blues, shimmering with awe and unblinking, fixed on Faith.
Silence slinks back in again and stretches far beyond where Faith is usually comfortable with it, but she strongarms the urge to crack a joke into submission and just says, "I hope you like it." Then, because she can't help herself, "But I have a gift receipt if you don't."
Buffy lets out a chuckle and Faith tries not to panic at how watery it sounds.
"It's beautiful."
Tries not to panic at how the words, "so are you" rise up within her unbidden. She chokes them down, turns them into a smile.
She watches as Buffy carefully takes it out of the box, which she tosses onto the chair Dawn had been lounging in earlier, and drapes it over her fingers, across her palm. Holds it up to inspect it more closely. And Faith thinks that there isn't really much to inspect; the design is simplistic, but Buffy's eyes are flickering over it like she's seeing things that aren't visible to the naked eye.
"Help me put it on?" She asks, looking back up at Faith, who nods and takes the necklace from Buffy, waiting for her to turn before she lets herself swallow hard.
Her fingers don't shake as she undoes the clasp, but she feels like they're about to start. She lifts it over Buffy's head and lowers her arms until the pendant is sitting on her breastbone. Tries to ignore the way her fingertips brush Buffy's skin as she brings both ends of the chain together and fastens it, leaving it to hang around Buffy's neck. Tries to avoid letting her fingers linger and fails miserably.
But then Buffy is turning, lifting the pendant to look down at it as she does, just for a few seconds. Then she drops it, looks up at Faith, and that's all the warning Faith gets before Buffy is hugging her.
Strong arms around her neck, pulling her close as she nestles her face to the side of Faith's and presses their bodies flush. Dumbly, Faith's arms hang limp at her sides until she hears Buffy's shaky exhale close by her ear, and then she's lifting them to encircle the other woman's waist. Holding her.
She lets her chin rest on Buffy's shoulder and closes her eyes.
And if she feels a little breathless by the time they pull apart, she'll find something to blame it on. She's used to making up excuses for that.
But the way her heart stops when Buffy hovers close and presses a kiss to Faith's cheek that ghosts against the edge of her mouth?
It would take a Christmas miracle for her to explain that away.
Christmas morning arrives along with a smiling, happy Giles, who strolls in laden down with gift boxes and bags when Faith opens the door.
"Giles," Buffy draws out his name, tone thick with suspicion even as she helps him unburden his load, "did you rob Santa?" He huffs out a laugh and averts his gaze, embarrassed by his obvious enthusiasm.
"You can tell us if you did." Dawn chimes in, her expression one of understanding sympathy. "We just want to help." Until she glances over at Faith and then it shifts to hopeful intrigue. "Think there's a reward?"
"Guy giving out this many presents for free every year?" Faith nods, folding her arms and leaning back against the door she'd just let Giles in through. "Definitely loaded."
"Hilarious," Giles drawls, "as always." He glances around, clearly looking for something, and then frowns at the three of them. He looks so sad, like he's just suffered a heartbreaking betrayal at the hands of someone he considered a very dear friend - Faith knows that look - and when he speaks again there's a slightly whiny lilt to his voice. "I was promised hot chocolate."
"My bad!" Dawn springs off the couch and into action. "I forgot."
"Yes, well, perhaps I'll forget your gifts-"
"Giles!" Dawn pouts at him, even stomps her foot a little, and the action is so reminiscent of a pre-teen Dawn that Faith can't be certain it's all for show. "What if I give you extra marshmallows to make up for it?"
Giles pauses, thinking it over.
"I'd also like chocolate curls."
"Deal."
It's inching close to noon by the time the majority of the gifts have been opened. There are new books and clothes, some perfume, a new jacket for Buffy from Dawn - "I actually paid for it this time." - and four matching pairs of reindeer slippers - "Did you and Red plot this together?" - that Dawn insists they all have to wear for the rest of the day. The huge wicker gift basket Buffy had found at a local thrift store and that they'd filled with various British delicacies for Giles - and with help from the United States Postal Service and the other Scoobies - is sitting open on the island, one of the three boxes of tea and a bar of chocolate having been already broken into.
"Here." Buffy drops onto the couch next to Faith and holds out a neatly wrapped rectangular box that's about a foot long. It has an ice blue satin ribbon wrapped around it and the paper is covered in little snowflakes. Across from them, Giles is sitting in the armchair, happily sipping from a steaming mug of his tea and Dawn is cross-legged on the floor in front of the tree, surrounded by discarded wrapping paper and reading the back of the novel that Buffy had told Faith she wanted.
"What's this?" Faith rubs her thumbs along the edges of the box and glances over at Buffy, who arches an eyebrow at her and lifts her legs onto the couch in front of her, bending them at the knees and tucking them to one side. She's still wearing the necklace.
"Looks an awful lot like a Christmas present," she says and Faith rolls her eyes, fingers already tugging at the ribbon. She works her index finger under the short flap on the edge of the box and rips the paper off in one chunk, then slides the box free.
The edges of her mouth curl up towards a smile when she recognises the name embossed on the packaging and she balls the paper in her hand, throwing it directly at Dawn as she uses her other hand to take the lid off. Dawn yells at her but Faith isn't listening.
Inside the box is, perhaps, one of the most beautiful knives she's ever seen. It's all shiny steel and deep purples, razor sharp, and it glints in the light when Faith lifts it out.
"Holy shit, B, this is wicked pretty." She tests the weight of it in her hand and holds it up, letting her eyes rove over the blade. "A knife for Christmas." She shoots Dawn a very quick, very pointed look as she turns her head to Buffy. "You know me so well."
"I figured you might need a new one after that demon with the acidy slime," Buffy explains and Faith bobs her head. She'd lost her favourite knife to that asshole. She hadn't said anything about it at the time though, which made Faith wonder when exactly Buffy had put that together.
"Thanks. I love it." Sincere, somewhat awkward; Faith leans across the space to pull Buffy into a one-armed hug and tries not to jump at the feel of Buffy's hand curving around her ribs as she hugs her back.
Late afternoon drifts into early evening and finds the four of them feeling fat and happy after devouring Christmas dinner. Giles is back in the armchair, paper crown slipping off his forehead to cover his eyes as he snoozes and Dawn has just excused herself to call some friends. Buffy and Faith are back on the couch, side by side again, a different blanket over both their laps this time. There is a half empty bowl of 'Christmas Caramel Corn' - caramelized popcorn covered in melted chocolate and sprinkled with marshmallows - between them that they're taking turns drawing handfuls from while a bad Hallmark movie combining ice skating and a secret princess plays on the TV.
"This is woefully tragic," Buffy comments, tossing another piece of popcorn into her mouth while the two main characters flirt on screen.
"Didn't you used to be super into this stuff?" Faith leans her head against the back of the couch and lets it loll to the side so she's facing Buffy.
"Skating, not bad dialogue." Buffy points out, drawing a chuckle from her seatmate. "But yeah, my dad used to take me to icecapades when I was a kid. I mostly stopped after he left."
"Sorry your dad's a tool." That makes Buffy laugh and Faith allows herself to feel silently victorious. "Never really got it. Skating, I mean, not deadbeat dads," she clarifies and Buffy laughs again. "But that's probably 'cause I've never actually tried it."
"You've never been skating?" Buffy gawks at her and Faith shakes her head. "Never?"
"Jesus, B, no. Never." Faith doesn't really understand why Buffy is so horrified by this, but that could again be down to the fact that she's never done it.
"Well then, we're going," Buffy announces, resolute, and Faith's eyes crinkle at the corners as she squints them at Buffy.
"What?"
"I'm taking you ice skating." Her tone makes it clear that there's zero room for arguments on this. "Tomorrow."
"I don't have skates." Faith makes one final floundering attempt, voice cracking around the edges.
"I have an extra pair."
"Of course you do." Faith says, shaking her head at the absurdity. "Do I have a say in this?"
"Nope." Buffy pops the 'p' with a smile and turns her attention back to the TV. "We're doing this. I've decided. It's a date."
Faith lets out an overly exasperated sigh to cover her sudden rush of nerves.
"God, you're bossy," she snips, finally looking away.
Buffy smirks.
"You love it."
The next night, Buffy brings them to a large pond in the middle of the sprawling park a few blocks from the apartment, now solidly frozen over thanks to the frigid temperatures. They'd decided to go after patrolling and it's almost eleven when they arrive, so they end up with the place to themselves. Which is more than fine with Faith because she's pretty sure she's going to end up on her ass before the night is done.
"I can't believe you've never been ice skating before." Buffy's breath curls out before her in the cold air as she sits beside Faith on an old worn bench to change from her shoes to her ice skates.
"Yeah, sorry." Faith grunts as she yanks her foot free from her boot. "I guess I didn't have time between the rough childhood and, you know," she frowns, pausing as she pulls the other one free, "vampire slaying."
"But you did have time to rescue a church bus full of nuns?" Buffy tips her head to look sidelong at Faith, old habits returning with ease as her fingers methodically pull and tie the long laces on her skates without the need of her eyes on them.
Faith hums, thoughtfully, wiggling a finger between her heel and the back of the shoe to give herself enough room to squeeze her foot the rest of the way in.
"Not to put clothes on, though, remember?" She quips, repeating the process on her other foot, head angled down but tilted just enough to watch the lopsided smirk bloom across Buffy's face.
"How could I forget?" Buffy's eyes slide to their corners to watch Faith watching.
And somehow it's Faith's cheeks that end up feeling warm.
After they've gone through the rigmarole of Buffy asking her if she's sure her boots are tight enough and Faith telling her yes, only to have Buffy check, roll her eyes, and then yank Faith's foot into her lap to re-lace them, they finally start to make their way onto the ice.
Faith really would have preferred her first time to have been somewhere with a railing she could cling to but she's not about to admit to that, so when Buffy offers her fingerless-gloved hands, Faith takes them in her own bare ones. She lets out an unsteady string of vowel sounds after Buffy helps her up and she immediately wobbles.
"You're okay," Buffy chuckles and Faith grips her hands tighter as Buffy walks backwards onto the ice and pulls her along.
She's uncharacteristically shaky, both mentally and physically, and seems to have lost every ounce of her loose fluidity the second she stood. This is nothing like slaying or dancing, or any of the other things involving her body that Faith has had previous experience in. She doesn't know how to move her legs or how to adjust her weight. She feels like Bambi.
"I feel like freaking Bambi, B." Says as much.
"Don't be so dramatic," Buffy scoffs. "You're still upright." She starts to very slowly skate backwards across the ice and all Faith has to do is stay that way; upright.
So of course, she doesn't.
Her feet slide away from her and she can't bring them back to where her upper body is defying the laws of physics to stay frozen in place, so down she goes. Hard and sudden, knocking the wind out of her and surprising Buffy enough that she doesn't have time to try and intervene.
Faith lets out a groan as she lands and Buffy is immediately kneeling on the cold ice at her side.
"Oh no." Buffy winces, sympathetically. "Are you okay?"
"You were saying?" Faith glares up at her from frozen ground, hair fanned out across the ice like rivulets of dark ink. Buffy twists her mouth to the side and makes a face.
"Aren't you supposed to have Slayer reflexes?" She doesn't reach for Faith and Faith doesn't make any attempt to move quite yet, trusting her short duration exposed to subzero temperatures won't be enough to give her frostbite through her clothes.
"Yeah, on stable ground, B." She lets out a disgruntled exhale that is once again visible as it leaves her. Buffy's eyes track the curl of it. "How many bad guys have you fought on a frozen pond?"
"A few." Buffy has the audacity to look smug about this and Faith scowls at her.
"Just, shut up and give me a hand, will ya?"
It takes a bit of heaving and balancing, but Faith eventually gets back up, though she doesn't have it in her to shy away from leaning heavily against Buffy in the process. They take it slowly, Buffy taking hold of Faith's hands again and leading her like she had started to before, and after a while she's carefully guiding Faith around the edge of the pond. Skating backwards, making it look easy.
"How'd you even know I liked skating?" Buffy's thumbs are pressed to the centre of Faith's palms, fingers curved around the tops of her hands.
Faith tries to focus on her feet.
"You must have mentioned it." She says offhandedly, looking down and watching the way Buffy's feet glide across the ice.
"Yeah but…" Something in Buffy's tone makes Faith look up and she finds her fellow slayer looking almost shy under a cloak of burgeoning disbelief. "You remembered?" And Faith can't help it, can't school her features quickly enough, and feels her expression shift into something straddling the line between easy and intense, something that irrefutably tells Buffy that of course she remembers. That she probably remembers every word Buffy has ever said. It's a big enough slip that Faith might panic, might later berate herself at the bottom of a rum bottle, but Buffy's cheeks turn a little pink and Faith doesn't think that has anything to do with the cold. "Not that-" Buffy's words catch and she has to swallow around them. "I don't, I mean, I guess I'm just…" she shakes her head a little, wearing a small smile. "Surprised by how much we know about each other."
"Think there's anything left to find out?" Faith jokes, arching an eyebrow at Buffy who chuckles.
"Oh I'm sure there's plenty you still don't know about me." It's vague, a little smug, and the teasing nature of it warms Faith from the inside out. "You've always been kinda… open about everything though." Naked nun-rescuing, for example. "I feel like I probably know all there is to know about you by now."
Faith hums and then falls silent for a while, thinking over Buffy's words. There are definitely things Buffy doesn't know but there are also things Faith can't tell her. It takes a little while, but she finds one she figures is safe to share.
"Bet I can tell you one thing you don't already know about me."
"Oh yeah?" Buffy turns them as they reach one end of the pond and picks up the pace a little as they start off back around. The cold air bites at Faith's cheeks. She starts to move her feet a bit.
"You remember that asshole in high school?" She asks and Buffy snorts a laugh.
"You're going to have to be way more specific."
"The one that dumped you right before homecoming for being weird."
"Ouch." Buffy sucks in a breath. "Okay, specific. Yes, I remember Scott."
"Well, while you and Her Highness were busy fighting for your lives that night," Faith pauses as Buffy lets go of one of her hands and maneuvers herself to Faith's side so that they're skating next to each other, hands still clasped between them. She gives herself some time to adjust to the new position, carefully lifting her feet and putting them back down while moving herself forward. "I totally found his skank ass and heavily insinuated he had some kind of crotch-rot in front of his date." Faith practically beams at the memory. "Wicked funny." Beside her, Buffy is quiet for a long moment.
"You did that?" She sounds small when she speaks, the words fragile, and Faith can feel the heat of Buffy's gaze against her cheek.
"What? He deserved it!" Then, as an afterthought, she adds, "Jerk."
"No, I'm not-" she shakes her head with a slow, creeping smile. "I just… I didn't know."
"Yeah, hence the whole 'thing you don't already know'." She's starting to feel embarrassment bubbling up inside of her, instantly regretting her decision to share with this class of one.
"That's cute."
"It's not cute," Faith bristles, tips of her ears warming in the cold.
"It's pretty cute." Buffy giggles, actually giggles. "I'm just imagining it and yeah. It's cute. God, no wonder he never looked at me again."
"Yeah, well." Faith sniffs, glancing over at Buffy with a half-smile. "His beady eyes didn't deserve to anyway."
Buffy holds her gaze for a long moment, then tilts her head back with a grin and lets out a peal of happy laughter that sends a swarm of butterflies through Faith.
"Well," Buffy tips her head forward again, nose crinkling as her smile lingers at the edges of her lips and she glances askance at Faith and nonchalantly says, "I'm lowkey hoping this date ends better for me than that one probably did for him."
"Right." Faith laughs, instinctively, but when Buffy's words catch up to her they have a similar effect to that of a smack to the face, in that they wipe the expression clean off hers to leave her looking blankly stunned. "Wait, what? Date?"
"What," Buffy is watching her with thinly veiled amusement, "you think I take all my friends on moon-lit frozen lake walks?"
"No." Faith blinks. "No, I mean, I didn't…." She trails off, unsure of how to finish the sentence since she doesn't know what she was thinking, and watches with a sense of helpless anxiety as Buffy's face falls.
"Was that…" Buffy frowns, eyes searching, " I thought the necklace was… oh my god." She drops Faith's hand so she can use it to cover her own mouth while the other grips the material of her jacket.
"Dawn." Faith blurts, heart thumping aggressively behind her ribs, her mind doing twice the standard speed limit as it races through her thoughts. "She told me to get it for you. She said you'd like it. I didn't -"
"She told you…" Buffy interrupts again, closing her eyes and taking a deep breath, like she's trying to calm herself down, but the second she opens her eyes again, Faith can tell it hasn't worked. "I'm going to kill her." Buffy gaze clouds over as she goes into murderous big sister mode and Faith can practically see all the ways in which Buffy is envisioning doing just that playing on a projector behind hazel eyes. Buffy half turns away from her, rubbing her palms over her cheeks as she talks, mostly to herself, and skirts the line of completely freaking out. "I told her. I told her not to meddle. I don't know why I even said anything to her in the first place. God!"
Faith is doing her best to scramble towards coherence, trying to grab a couple of the puzzle pieces to slot into place before Buffy has a complete meltdown and Faith loses her through the ice.
"B, can you cool it for five seconds and fill me in on what I'm missing here?" This seems to snap Buffy back into the moment at hand and Faith gazes at her, imploring desperation knitting her eyebrows together. "I feel like a freaking lost dog."
But Buffy shakes her head, avoiding eye contact now, and Faith knows what it looks like when Buffy is about to backtrack.
"It's nothing. I just…" her throat bobs, "thought something and it turns out I was wrong, and that's totally fine, but now I need to go and kill my sister." Inexplicably, Buffy turns and starts to skate towards the edge of the pond, apparently forgetting Bambi the Vampire Slayer in all the blood lust.
"Don't you dare leave me to freeze to death out here!" Faith's usually husky voice rises a few octaves and, thankfully, that along with her plea is enough to stop Buffy, then make her begrudgingly skate back to where she's stranded.
"It's not that cold." Buffy's eyes are still skittering over any surface that isn't Faith and when she tries to loop her arm through Faith's to guide her back to less slippery solid ground, Faith surprises her by reaching out to grab hold of her hands. She jerks Buffy towards her and manages to remain upright in a move that she wouldn't have been capable of twenty minutes ago, forcing Buffy to look at her. Her eyes are glimmering green in the moonlight and she looks scared.
Faith can count the number of times she's seen Buffy truly scared on one hand.
"Okay," she starts, quickly realising she's going to have to be brave for the both of them and choosing to grab the bull by the horns, "now can you shut up and let me talk?"
"Rude." Buffy scowls but there's neither force nor malice behind it, only bluster and bravado, and so Faith continues.
"Yeah, I'm rude. And I'm brash and kind of an asshole sometimes." She swallows thickly and tries to ignore the painful pinching in her chest where her next words are digging their nails in, clinging on for dear life and silently begging her not to throw them out. "I've been pretty messed up and I'm doing better, but that shit doesn't just go away." It's an admission and a warning, and it's one Faith has been so scared to voice. As if those people around her might not have realised that was the case. Might have thought she had just been magically fixed and that they'd toss her to the wolves if they knew the truth. "It might look like it isn't there anymore, but I promise you it is. I've done some really awful shit." She squeezes Buffy's hands, her expression stricken with disbelief. "Why the hell would I think you of all people would want to waste your time taking me on a date?"
It even sounds insane just saying that. The idea of it. To put herself, Buffy and date in the same goddamn sentence. And there's always been something there, she and Buffy had flirted with it once upon a time but never more than that. Faith had never pushed or even seen the point in trying to. There was always something standing in the way; big, brooding vampire. Being evil. After everything, Faith had figured the sensible thing to do would be to put it to bed. Let the final Long Sleep lure it into the background noise of this new life they'd made together, because she wasn't about to deliver a shotgun blast to that gifthorse's mouth and jeopardize it.
"Because you aren't the person who did all those things anymore." Buffy slices a line through Faith's thoughts and fits herself through the gap, standing seven feet tall in her five foot body. "Of course she's still in there," a small frown creases her forehead, like she's confused by the fact Faith felt she needed to warn Buffy about that, "she's made you who you are, but you're not the same." And in a move that strips Faith bare, Buffy lifts a hand to cup her cheek, cold fingertips skimming across her neck and making her shiver. "You're so much more than she ever was." Faith lets her eyes slip closed for a second and releases a shaky exhale. "This version of you?" She nods her head towards Faith. "I like her. A lot. I think… I think I kind of need her around." Buffy's lips start to curve into a smile. "At least to pay the bills, because you know how much I hate numbers."
Faith rolls her eyes but laughs, because yeah, she does know.
"Yeah, I do." Says as much. Then, "Look, I didn't know this was supposed to be a date. I've been too busy counting myself lucky just getting to be your friend again. After everything… I wasn't gonna push my luck by wanting more."
"But if you did," And Buffy's eyes are wide and bright and hopeful, and her hand is still on Faith's cheek, "if you decided you could push, would you? Would you want more?"
And it's not even scary to admit, not like Faith had thought it would be once upon a time. Not like it might have been back then. Now, it just kind of feels right.
"I'd want you," she says, easy as breathing. And Buffy's smile could illuminate the entire night sky. Faith feels light enough, she could probably fly through it. "Just to be really clear…." She pauses for dramatic effect because yeah, she really is still an asshole, and Faith lifts her free hand to rest it on Buffy's hip. "That thing you thought?" Squeezes the swell of it and then slides her arm around to loosely bracket Buffy's lower back. "Not wrong."
"Yeah?" Buffy asks, smile stretching as she brings both her hands to Faith's shoulders and pulls herself just a little closer. Faith hums.
"Literally couldn't be further from it." And in a move that feels like a dream even as it's happening, Faith lifts her other hand to brush a few wayward strands of blonde hair out of Buffy's face. And then Buffy's smile is gone and she's just staring up at Faith, waiting. "You've always felt right, Buffy. In a lot of ways. I just," she sighs, shaking her head and offering up a shrug, "didn't know how to deal with it back then."
"And now you do?" Buffy fingers toy with the baby-fine hairs at the base of Faith's neck.
"I think so." Faith's fingers disappear into golden tresses, hand cupping the back of Buffy's skull as she gently urges her forward and finally brings their lips together.