Switcheroony
by alicorn
Chapter 28
[reviews]
Chapter 24
'Damn I look good with wet hair,' she mused as she stared at the naked figure before her. Buffy gulped, her eyes suddenly drawn to the softly swaying breasts before her. A strange chill ran over her but she wasn't sure why. The body before her was her own. She'd seen it a thousand times. The hand now touching her shoulder was her own. Yet the warmth was unfamiliar. The eyes that were looking at her with such concern were ... No ... There ... she was ... that look. Those half thoughts ... that was Willow ... her Willow. She was on her knees before the woman she loved and the only thought she could come up with was — I look good with wet hair??? She shook herself mentally as those intently caring eyes searched her face.
Then her eye caught the distinct yellow of scrambled egg perched within the still damp hair of her beloved, and flame rushed to her skin, reflecting the intense confusion, embarrassment and wracking knowledge that she had let them both down again. 'Wrong! Again! I did it wrong again. Oh, why can't the Hellmouth just open up and swallow me?' Buffy silently screamed to herself as she closed her eyes and shook her head in despair.
"Buffy?" Willow questioned. "Are you okay?" Her mind was unable to translate the look she had just seen. 'Is she okay? Has she hurt something? Why won't she look at me ... I'm standing right in front of her and she can't even look me in the ey ... OH MY GO ...!!! ... NAKED ... I'm NAKED.' Willow's hands flew to cover, to hide, moving like windmills unsure what to cover first. 'Need bigger hands or smaller body or just not to be ... Towel! Where is that ... how did ... when did ... NAKED ...' Dropping to her knees, she felt a squelch and then a crack as she landed knee-first on half a plate of scrambled eggs.
Buffy's eyes flew open at the sound and before her she saw Willow vainly attempting to cover herself with her hands, turning herself away from her. Concern for Willow immediately overrode her own discomfort and she raised herself up, stepping past the now almost frantic body of her best friend. She retrieved the bath towel. Turning back towards her best friend, she was presented with the unforgettable image of a single piece of bacon attached firmly to Willow's ass.
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Xander lay on the floor, blood pouring from his nose, as he listened to the footsteps of his attackers. The fist had appeared from nowhere. One minute he was staring at a pair of piercing blue eyes, the next minute he felt as if he had been shot in the face. If he'd seen it maybe he could have — 'who am I kidding!' he berated himself as he stayed crouched on the floor holding his nose and listening intently.
"Where is she?" one man asked, his voice like cold steel.
"Well, she's not here," another sarcastically responded. "So much for 'under surveillance.' What happened? You get distracted by the College short skirts again?"
"She was here, I tell you," a quieter voice responded in self-defense.
Xander began to move slowly towards the door, inching ever so slowly although his mind was screaming at him to run. But from years of avoiding vampires and demons as well as his parents, he knew that quick movements just caught the eye. He had to just let them forget he was there, blend into the carpet. He could feel his nerves crawling around inside him, scratching at him, pushing him to hurry up before they noticed him.
"Sure," the sarcastic voice noted. "Well, she's not here now. So where is she?"
Silence followed and Xander stopped his movements. He could see the corner of Willow's desk before him; he knew that the door was not far now.
"Why don't we ask him?" the hard voiced man suggested, sending panic through Xander's entire body.
Realizing he had to go and go now, Xander pushed off with his feet and stood, making a lurching attempt to reach the door and freedom. But his collar suddenly tightened around his throat as he was pulled back towards the group. "Going somewhere?"
Coughing as he tried to regain his breath, Xander shook his head, dropped his hands from his nose to his throat and, in an attempt to loosen the stranglehold on his collar, pushed his fingers beneath the fabric to stop it from cutting into his throat. But whoever had hold of him simply lifted his collar, causing him to stretch onto his toes. Fighting to get a breath and hanging like a rag doll, Xander tried to reach behind him.
The man behind him laughed at his attempts to release himself. "Looks like I got me a live one."
"Reminds me of a flapping flounder out of water," laughed the man to his right.
"So flounder, where is she?" the man behind him asked, shaking him by the collar before loosening his hold slightly.
"W ... who?" Xander managed as he fought to regain his natural breathing pattern. Glancing around, he began to make out more detail, his eyes having become accustomed to the dim light. There were six of them, all dressed in black. 'These are the guys who attacked Giles,' he suddenly realized.
"Awww, he wants to play games," the sarcastic man commented.
"Sweet, but I'm not in the mood for 20 questions. Where is she?" the steel voiced man demanded.
"Who?" Xander asked in his best 'I haven't got a clue what you're talking about' voice.
"The Slayer, num nuts. I've seen you hanging around with her. You're one of the Slayer's groupies. In fact, you're the Slayer's boy. So, where is she?" the man holding him demanded.
Xander felt a cold chill run through him, but he pushed away the urge to tremble. These guys were ex-military - he was sure of it. What could they want with Buffy? "Why?" he asked before he could stop himself. Suddenly he was pulled back up onto his toes and a knee was jammed up between his legs. "Heeeyyy, god daaaaaaaa!"
"We're asking the questions here, boy. Where is she?" the steel voice asked, just inches from his now streaming eyes.
Xander gasped for breath and dropped one hand to the now inflamed area between his legs, desperate to just curl up on the floor. "I thought she was here ... you heard me calling ... for her. Why would I call ... out if I knew she ... wasn't here? I don't know ... where she is," he gasped as he began to feel a red hot throbbing, replace the numb pain of the initial assault on Anya's private play zone.
"He could be telling the truth," the quiet guy noted.
"Yeah, right," Mr. 'Sarcastic' responded. "He has to have an idea of where she could be. I say we make him tell us."
Xander swallowed his fear as he braced himself for the onslaught he knew was coming. These guys were just looking for an excuse to beat him up, to make him pay for the fact that they hadn't found Buffy. He had to do something, make an opening. Then he could run ... well, 'okay maybe crawl' out of here ... What the hell did these guys want Buffy for? He was damned if he'd be the one to let these maniacs anywhere near her, especially in her current condition. "Well, since you asked so nicely ..." he threw at them. "I think there's a shoe sale at the Mall." At the same moment he raised his left arm, throwing his elbow backwards with all the force he could summon.
He felt bristle meet the back of his upper arm as he connected with the throat of the man holding him, closely followed by a guttural wretch and gasp as his upper arm assaulted his keeper's windpipe. Suddenly his collar was released, allowing him to drop onto his feet. But the momentum of his attack sent him forward, directly towards the closed door. His heart leapt in relief, then alarm and then surprise as without warning — it opened. Unable to halt his progress towards the silhouetted figure that now stood before him, Xander resigned himself to the collision, dropping his head instinctively.
Strong arms prevented him from toppling them both over and his cheek came to rest on a somewhat familiar pert bosom.
"Gee lover, did you bring all these guys here just for little ole me? Remind me to thank you later," Faith commented as she moved Xander to one side, patting him on the head, before dropping him gently to the floor. Xander collapsed with relief, all pretence at preserving his dignity abandoned, as he curled up into the fetal position and cupped his crown jewels.
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Willow returned to the bathroom to start cleaning herself up. Buffy followed closely behind her, apologizing with every breath. But Willow couldn't hear a word. All she could think was 'I dropped the towel ... I flashed Buffy ... I flashed at her ... her naked body ... at her. Is that even possible? Well I did it. What must she be thinking? I don't even undress in front of her ... let alone ... Ohh Goddess!' She was positive that her cheeks were aflame as she could almost feel the heat radiating from her skin.
She found herself in front of the mirror, watching herself gently removing fragments of egg and bacon from her Buffy-hair. Then turning, she found the shower curtain pulled open and the water running. "I'm so sorry" she heard herself ... no as she heard Buffy with her voice say as she was purposefully maneuvered towards the shower. It was as if she was watching it all happen to someone else.
Buffy was so full of guilt as she could see the sheer embarrassment emanating from Willow. Her dear friend had reverted to her old shy, self-conscious persona. And all because she didn't have her usual Slayer control of her limbs. Why had she tripped? How could she have tripped? She had forgotten about her injured Willow-knee. Why had the sight of Willow in a bath towel ... NO ... the sight of herself in a bath towel caused her to lose control of her legs ... to stumble and throw her lovingly-made offerings all over Willow. Was there some evil invisible force determined to make her feel clumsy and awkward whenever Willow was around?
Is this what true love did to you? Did it turn you into a bumbling fool, incapable of the most common normal everyday functions? Did it prevent you from saying anything that made any sense at all? Did it make you paranoid about everything you did manage to say or do? Or was this just more of Faith's idea of a joke? Was she watching them somehow, laughing at them? She, herself, wanted to laugh at the ridiculousness of the whole situation but one look at Willow and she knew that laughter right now was the last thing her dearest friend needed to hear.
She needed to get Willow cleaned up. She needed to remove all evidence of her 'stumble and drop' episode. She had decided to run the shower rather than another bath. Otherwise they'd be here forever. As much as she was enjoying having Willow to herself, she really didn't like the idea of spending the next few hours in awkward silence very much.
Moving Willow towards the shower, Buffy turned her and made gentle eye contact. "It's okay, Willow. Honestly, I've seen myself naked a thousand times and that's all I saw, me — no big. Okay?" she advised her best friend, smiling as encouragingly as she could. Then instinctively her hand moved to gently cup Willow's cheek, her thumb brushing absently as she held eye contact for just a moment longer and for a brief moment she lost herself.
There before her, she could see Willow, her beautiful Willow. She had often heard people say that a person's eyes were the windows to their souls. And right here and now she truly believed that, she knew exactly what they meant as she stared at the insecurity and questioning in those eyes.
Nothing else seemed to matter but the need to soothe her beloved. Slowly Buffy removed her hand and leaned forward and to place a soft and fleeting kiss of assurance upon the lips of the woman she loved. "I'll be downstairs when you're ready," she informed her before turning and leaving Willow to stare after her.
The gentle tender touch of Buffy's hand so simply followed by that all too brief kiss did nothing to calm Willow. Instead she was filled with guilt at the sudden flash of desire that swept over her while she watched Buffy leave. 'What am I? Some kind of flasher sex freak?' She needed to get a handle on this and she needed to talk to Buffy.
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Giles stared at the fragments of the broken plate as his mind continued racing to control his anger and the outburst that had sent the offending dish crashing to his kitchen floor. He clenched and unclenched his fists in an attempt to lessen his urge to batter someone, anyone to within an inch of his life. Ideas ran through his head as the veins at his temples pulsed; each idea more impossible than the last and yet each seeming to promise him the revenge he sought.
Irrational though it was, he would have given anything, in that instant, to have Spike before him; to be nose to nose with that twisted sod. He'd take his chances. His mind searched for the tricks and maneuvers he could use to succeed in such a mismatched contest. He needed to know, he needed to believe that he could do what was expected of him, what he expected of himself. His fatherly feelings outweighed his Watcher instincts, telling him that it was his right, his duty to avenge Buffy and that he was prepared to die trying if necessary. She had risked her life so often, given up so much to protect the world as well as her friends and him. It was time for him to protect her. After all, Cordelia and Faith were already trying to do just that.
Giles shook his head as he tried to work out if it was reasonable or even possible to need revenge for something that hadn't happened yet and that wouldn't happen now that he knew about the possibility of it happening. But his mind had no place for logic. The old Ripper seemed to have surfaced and his primitive need to protect what was his told him that what he was feeling was natural, honorable and that Spike's second death would simply be natural justice.
Cordelia hadn't wanted to tell him and now he realized why. It had taken him quite a while to calm down before their conversation was finally able to move beyond the content of her vision and foolishly he had thought his anger gone. However once he ended the call, the only thoughts running through his mind were of those of the vision she had described.
And then there was Willow. He smiled as he thought about his favorite young protégé - so shy and sensitive as well as intelligent and talented. But his smile vanished as he thought about how devastated she would be if the vision ever came to pass. Who knows what she might do? She was like a daughter to him as was Buffy. His family was being threatened.
He needed to do something, hit something. Suddenly the light in his head came on. Grabbing his coat he headed out of the door, pulling it closed behind him. Turning left he headed for the Magic Box and its training room where a punching bag with Spike's name on it was probably going to make him pull a few muscles.
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'Oh my goddess ... Buffy kissed me!! On the lips!! She ...and we're not even ... you know ... doing ... Why??? I mean ... Was she feeling sorry for me? She's felt sorry for me before and she's never ... Was she trying to ... it didn't feel like a 'sorry' kiss. What if she meant it as ...? Who am I kidding? I just want it to mean she ... that she feels something ... that she just gave in to the urge to kiss me. Oh, please! What urge? Who am I fooling? I'm standing here splattered in breakfast, with coffee nose and eggy hair, and she gets the inexplicable big ole urge to kiss me? Which dimension am I living in?' Willow argued with herself as she stepped into the shower.
Reaching for the shampoo, she couldn't help laughing at herself. 'Who the heck do I think I am? Buffy is wonderful, sexy, beautiful, loving, strong, powerful, brave and full of life. And she's straight ... isn't she? Of course, she is. She makes me a wonderful breakfast ... hey it really did look pretty good too. Then she kisses me ... because I look so pitiful? But it was such a sweet kiss. And it wasn't on the cheek. Heck, after the last two nights, I guess kissing me on the cheek would be a bit ... The things we've done would make a kiss on the cheek... Right, it's because she felt comfortable kissing me ... I mean, she kissed me this morning and that ... Oh ... OH!!' She froze as the inescapable fact that Buffy had kissed her thoroughly this morning and then sweetly just now sank into her brain. 'OH, MY! Is it possible? Am I just letting myself hope ... duh! No ... no, she ... There was feeling ... I felt a connection...'
"I kissed her!" Buffy reminded herself as she headed down the stairs, her arms weighed down with the remnants of her failed attempt at a romantic meal. 'Way to go, Buffy. That's not what they mean by taking it slow. But she looked so lost ... and she didn't pull away, did she? Maybe she was still in shock. First I drop food at her feet and all over her because she's wearing a bath towel and, then I make a pass at her when she's feeling vulnerable and upset. Really showed the self-control there, didn't I?' she thought, growing angry with herself as frustration mingled with the need to get this right. Buffy had never had to charm and woo anyone. She was beginning to think that it was a good thing she'd never had to before because so far all she had managed to do was confuse her best friend and turn herself into a gibbering fool.
As she placed the proof of her physical limitations into the sink, her shoulders drooped and her knee ached again. Hanging her head, she tried to figure out how to fix things. She needed to make it clear that she found Willow attractive and that she wanted more than their current "best friends who have sex because it was necessary to prevent yet another apocalypse" relationship. It was becoming obvious that when it came to romantic gestures, she was like a mime artist trying to perform in a straight jacket.
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Giles had no idea why or how he found himself standing outside Buffy's mother's house. He had walked for what seemed like an age, trying to pull himself together, trying to figure out how best to deal with the anger he felt and the fact he had nowhere left to direct it.
Somehow in the last half hour his mind had wandered to Joyce. The woman had raised the extraordinary daughter he often thought of as his own. He had always admired Joyce. Maybe she, as the only person with an unhindered parental link to Buffy (who he knew would always put Buffy first) would know what he should do with the knowledge he now had. He cringed at the thought of telling her about the vision but Giles had learned through bitter experience that Joyce was far stronger than she looked. When it came to her daughter, the woman was formidable.
As he stared at the house, he realized that it was past midday and the curtains were still drawn? He wondered if Joyce was ill. It was so unlike her to leave the curtains closed. Moving up to the front door, he experienced a moment of doubt but shaking it off, he raised his hand to knock on the all too familiar front door.
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"Sir, I assure you that we will find her," the man's steely voice guaranteed him.
He liked hearing the underlying dread in his subordinate's voice. He took that as a sign that he was being taken seriously and feared as well. "I certainly hope so. I am sure it will not come as a shock to you that it is not in my nature to tolerate failure."
"There will be no need for tolerance, sir. The operational failures inherent in dealing with this particular target will be resolved. We will adapt and overcome as we always do," the other man replied, attempting to infuse a level of certainty into his words.
Standing up, the lawyer smiled knowing he had made his point. He liked instilling fear and he especially liked doing it to tall, physically fit, 'jock' types. "I'm sure you will. I will be very pleased to relay your personal assurance to the Senior Partner." He could almost hear the mental gulp.
"Thank you, sir," the steely voiced man responded. The more than distinct coldness coating his words indicated that he was well aware that he had just been forced to guarantee this mission with his own life.
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Xander had always enjoyed watching Faith kick ass and take down the bad guys but today had been more fun than he had ever remembered. As the last of his battered and bloody attackers ran past him, his wicked side took over and with an evil grin he stuck out his leg. He was extremely pleased by the sheer slapstick moment as the escaping man tripped with all the grace of sumo wrestler walking on marbles. Watching his victim stumble onto his face before clambering back up to follow his comrades, Xander smiled with childish satisfaction.
"Great party. How can I ever thank you?" Faith's sultry tone licked at Xander's mind, suddenly making him very nervous. He had heard that tone before and it hadn't ended well. The memory of that cold night standing outside her motel room in his boxer shorts reminded him exactly with whom he was dealing. He had always been out of his league with this woman.
Raising himself up, he leaned against the door frame and wiped the latest drops of blood from his nose. "No problem. So you saving the knights in distress now too?" he asked.
"Certainly seems that way," Faith commented as she moved towards him, feeling the surprising need to check that he was okay. She couldn't believe that yet again she had found herself in the position of having to save another Scooby from the guys in black. This seemed to be turning into a habit. But somehow she couldn't help but feel that this payback was long overdue. If she was honest, she owed Xander and Giles at least this much. Maybe now she was beginning to make it up to them and maybe someday she might even be able to move on with all of them as she had with the group in LA.
"You okay?" she asked sincerely.
Xander furrowed his brows and stared at the ex-Slayer. "Okay, who the hell are you? And what have you done with Faith?" he asked, trying to gauge her level of sincerity. The half smile and raised eyebrow that he received in response was, however, again quickly replaced by a look of genuine concern. He was surprised but his manners and common sense took over and he replied to her initial inquiry. "Yeah, I'll live," he replied, offering her a small smile before adding a sincere "Thanks."
The moment's awkwardness was broken by the shrill ringing of the telephone. Faith turned from Xander, having taken his assurance of well-being at face value only, and reached for the handset. Raising it to her ear, she smiled a bit wickedly before answering. "Hello. Buffy and Willow aren't home at present but if you leave your message after the moan, I'll make sure they get back to you ... Aaarrrhhh."
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Willow sat on a stool in the kitchen, her still damp hair refusing to stay behind her ear as she tried to concentrate on what Giles was telling them. But concentrate as she might, she just couldn't seem to pull her eyes away from Buffy. Yet each time she looked she could swear that Buffy had just looked away.
'Why can't she look at me?' her mind screamed, again missing something Giles was saying.
"... and it would appear that our original belief that this was all some ill-conceived plan on Faith's behalf, some vengeance-satisfying fest was indeed way off the mark. It would seem that Faith was, indeed, attempting to act in the best interest of ... That is ... it would seem, from what Cordelia has led me to believe, that Faith is actually trying to help," he stated awaiting the expected barrage of assaulting exclamations that did not occur. "However," he continued, somewhat unnerved by their silence, "doubt has been cast upon her judgment concerning certain facets of the plan and I have to say that Cordelia did not appear to be fully aware of the contacts that Faith had chosen to use to acquire the curse. And so I now truly believe she was duped into delivering the curse within the original curse," Giles concluded.
"Cool. Faith, the dupe. Now she knows what it feels like. I still don't believe that she has done any of this because she's trying to help," Buffy observed, as she leaned back against the sink, feeling that she should be saying something more. But for the last few minutes all she had been thinking about was how to get Giles to leave. She wanted to talk to Willow; she needed to talk to Willow. She knew that they had unfinished business. A nagging feeling was telling her this was their time. And Giles was invading it.
She cast another quick glance at her beloved, wishing she could talk to her, wishing she could whisper how special today ... no, last night and today ... no, how special every day with her was and how many more she wanted.
Buffy had never felt so strongly about anything. She was in love and she knew it. She wanted to scream it from the hill tops. She wanted to drag her beloved away from the world and hold her close forever. It had never been like this with Angel. But Giles was still talking ... still filling their time with stuff about Faith and Cordelia.
"So Xander went to look for you at your dorm and I came hear in the hope of speaking to your mother," Giles explained, now very unnerved by the girls' continued silence. "Are you listening to me?" he asked, staring Buffy in the eye, forgetting that it was actually Willow to whom he was giving his best 'I know you are not' look.
"Sorry," Willow mumbled, breaking eye contact. She felt like she used to when her mother caught her daydreaming. But this time it wasn't a lecture on the importance of networking with those who might be useful in the future or her appearance and manner. No. This time it was Giles talking about the fix they were in. "You said something about Xander going to our dorm..." she offered.
"Yes but that was some half an hour ago," Giles commented glancing at his watch.
Buffy stood. "How about I give him a ring and get him to come over here? Then he can give you a lift home."
"I'll do it," Willow said swiveling on her stool and reaching for the phone.
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Cordelia stared at the telephone before her - willing it to ring. She needed to speak to Faith. She didn't want to believe she had been so stupid, so reckless. She also wanted to tell her off for leaving it so long between calls.
'Angel's going to blow' she realized. She really didn't want to be the one to tell him that his apprentice had royally screwed up especially after she, herself, had convinced him that Faith was the best person to help Buffy and Willow. She could just see that pained and angry but 'holding it back' look, hear the sigh and see the disappointment in his eyes. Faith didn't need to disappoint someone else besides herself. She needed a kick. A good hard stiff kick ... and a hug....
'A hug??? Where the hell did that come from? What am I? Dr Ruth?' Cordelia shook her head. 'Yeah, right. I can just see me giving Faith advice on ... Heck, I can't even recall ... Has it been that long?'
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"Will ... Will ... WILL! Breathe," Xander instructed, hearing the tone of his best friend's voice, which was quickly turning into gasping whispers.
"But how ... I mean when ... how could you? That woman! I thought you had more self-control, more sense ... Anya will be so ... Xander I can't believe you're ...What is she doing th ... did you two ...? When ..."
Xander caught a movement from the corner of his eye and turned his head to see Faith shrug smugly and move towards the door. He nodded acknowledging that she was ready to leave and, though he really couldn't blame her, he did want to talk to her. As she passed him, he turned around to see her swaying hips swing with that devil may care Faith-swagger as she moved towards the doorway. A smile crossed his face as he couldn't deny the admiration he had for the sight of her retreating form.
"Giles said you had gone to look for us. How could you take ... how could you bring that woman to our ...? You let her into our room, Xander!"
"If it helps any, to be honest, I didn't let her into your room, and it wasn't just me, there were six other guys," Xander replied, a dozen images flashing across his mind, all of which would probably require knowledge of Yoga, which he clearly didn't have.
"What!!! You had an ORGY in our dorm ..." Willow's mind scrambled to catch up.
"More of a rumble, really. Where are you any way?" he asked, changing the subject. "I've been trying to get hold of you all day!"
"We're at Buffy's. Giles came by and found us here. So I ... you, Faith and six guys?" Willow cried out, obviously unable to get past the images now swimming in her head.
"I'll be right over," Xander advised her, eager to end this call and talk to Faith, who he could see from the corner of his eye, was slowly inching out of the door, even though she was clearly enjoying his end of the conversation with Willow.
"Damn right, you will!" Willow exclaimed, as she heard the receiver drop.
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Cordelia stared at the notes she had been writing. Wolfram and Hart? How on earth had Faith imagined that she could pull the wool over a firm like Wolfram and Hart? Did Faith think she was like a magic tree, walking ninja or something? Was she really that cocky? 'Huh, yeah,' she assured herself with dry sarcasm, realizing that
Faith was probably just as cocky and self-confident as she was. She was surprised at the disappointment that rose to meet her thoughts. She hated feeling like this. Being made to feel like an unobservant fool was so not on her list of favorite pastimes.
She had begun to think of Faith as a friend, as someone who would be honest with her, who would let her help and help in return, someone she could rely on. Not that she ever intended to ask for help. She had never anticipated needing help with anything, especially from Faith. But as it turned out, it had just kinda happened. They had seemed to fit - so Faith had her help with no agenda, nothing asked in return and she had accepted. Faith didn't get on her nerves like most other women did. Cordelia knew that she'd pretty much shunned the friendship of women, even Fred, dear sweet Fred.
The fact was that men were just plain easier. She knew their agenda pretty much of the time and steered her course accordingly. She didn't want to be responsible for anyone's self esteem ever again, to have things expected of her, to be a surrogate sister. Oh hell, why couldn't she just leave the "queen bitch" behind her? Because that's exactly what most women brought out in her. Mainly because she knew that if she gave them half a chance, they'd read through her armor and then she'd have no where to hide. She'd have no power. So there was only one way to protect herself - she'd hit out first and hardest.
But Faith. Well, she was the same. That is kinda the same but not. Actually, she was really different from the rest of them. Cordelia so knew that the dark-haired slayer was way up the ladder on the feminine looking and acting flirty temptress thing. Plus hello, she had way better social skills and, oh yeah, there was the fashion thing. But Faith — well, she had the "don't mess with me, I'm more than you can handle" sex thing going on, the "dark and bad to know, but you'll never forget me" thing, the "no one really knows or can understand me" ...
Cordelia sighed. She'd thought she was getting to know her. She'd thought ... 'Damn it all to hell. Face it, you haven't got a clue.'
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"What is it honey? You wanna hug?" Faith suggestively offered as Xander moved to block the door way. "Shouldn't you be running to hide behind the skirts of your women? It must be tying your cherry stalk into a knot to have to stop yourself from asking if you can watch, imagining Willow teaching Buffy how to ... you know ... KISS and ... well, you can imagine what all... woman on woman. You guys just get all hot and bothered over that ..." she smirked briefly lowering her eyes to just below his waist before grinning at Xander while raising one eyebrow in challenge. The adrenalin was still running through her veins and she was really itching to let loose. She'd taken it easy on those guys and she knew it.
Xander winced at the comment, immediately regretting his instinct to talk to her. 'Why don't I just let her go? What good is talking going to do?' He had tried talking before and, well ... let's just say - not the most encouraging memories came to mind. If there was one thing he knew about her - it was that Faith was definitely not into sharing her feelings. But years of Anya's sharing was beginning to make him wonder if maybe that was such a bad deal. "I thought you'd want to ... you know - gloat, savor the moment. Make me say 'Thank you' again. But hey, if you have a big old 'more fun place to be' - don't let me get in your way," he ended stepping aside.
"Right," Faith said, suddenly feeling more than a little silly for pulling at his chain. 'What do I expected him to say?' But as she moved to step through the doorway, he leaned forward to say "No problem. It was fun. We must do it again some time."
"Felt good didn't it?" he continued.
"What?" Faith responded.
"It felt good, didn't it? Getting back in the game, the Slayer groove ... here at the Hellmouth?" he ventured, this time leaning back against the door frame to place a little distance between himself and the now glaring ex-Slayer. "Figured."
"Just what do you mean by that?" Faith asked, leaning towards him.
"Nothing," Xander assured her innocently. "I mean, you do the big reform act for Angel. He stands up for you against the woman he loves, and then he lets you come back to good old Sunnydale, a place full of so many good memories for you, to save the very same woman he loves."
"It's all good," Faith threw out as she turned her back on him beginning to stride down the corridor, now suddenly eager to make her self scarce.
"Then you disarm the woman he loves ... for her own good -- I understand --inadvertently placing her and her best friend in danger," he sighed dramatically, for effect as he saw Faith pause. "You know, anyone who didn't really know you would be, could be forgiven for assuming that you simply cursed the woman because she put you in a coma. Not that I'm saying that you understand," he commented as Faith slowly began to turn. "I mean, I hear you singing 'I'm really here to be save the girl ... to help them both'. Honest, I do. But people ... that is some people not standing within striking distance ... they're gonna figure now that you're officially the only big bad real Slayer in town, reaping all the glories ... well, it has to feel good."
Faith stilled, pushing down the disappointment and anger, attempting to drown out the blood pumping into her ears. She wanted to turn and hurt him, to pummel him and every accusation he'd just made into next week.
"And who could really blame you? Anyone with half a brain can see you still have issues ..." Xander continued. "But you say it's all intended to help them and, hey, I'm big with the great, if that's true ..."
Faith turned fully to glare at him. "If ???" she questioned threateningly.
"I'm just saying ..." Xander stated, raising his hands in imaginary defense.
"You talk too much," she commented.
"So I'm told," he agreed. "I'm just wondering why, if you are only here to help, why are you so big with hiding in the shadows?"
She glared and then broke into a grin. "Works for me."
***********************BtVS************************
Much Thanks to Lilly a beta Treasure & apologies for my absence