Je me souviens

Aha! I have discovered Ye Olde Plote. Very nice.


Chapter Six

*

Faith crept back into Buffy's house. The lights were out. Joyce must have believed Faith was safely asleep. Faith trudged upstairs to the guest bedroom. She turned her back on the watching African masks and skinned out of Buffy's clothes. The sheets were crisp and cool. Faith lay in bed, arms crossed behind her head. She'd spent eight months of her life asleep. After what she'd seen tonight, she didn't think she'd ever sleep again.

She had killed a man. It wasn't all her fault. He'd attacked her, apparently without reason. Maybe he was a criminal, maybe he was a complete wacko. It didn't matter. Faith had stabbed him. She'd watched how Buffy did it, and it looked so easy. When Faith jabbed the branch into the guy's chest, it felt like it was what she had been born to do.

Her destiny.

Buffy had said something about that, earlier, in the kitchen with Joyce and Giles. That Faith had a destiny. That she would get off on slaying.

Killing.

And Buffy did too. Faith didn't question that for a second. She could feel it through the shimmering contact of their bond. She saw Buffy's ragged breathing, that not just the fight could account for. Faith smelled it in the night air. That scent--Buffy's arousal--it was another teasing familiarity. Part of her memory itched to tell her what was going on. The harder she pushed, the further away the memories seemed. Faith felt blocked. Trapped.

She had thought it would be so easy to start fresh. She wanted to be someone new. Not the killer everyone accused her of being. Yet here she was, with blood on her hands. Sort of. Dust, anyway.

And if she could forget the killing for a minute, there was the fact that they guy had disappeared. Turned to dust and blown away. Faith couldn't ignore the freaky stuff anymore. Her sight, scent, hearing, strength--all of them were enhanced. This thing with Buffy. And the magic vanishing dead guy.

The moonlight moved across the artwork on the walls. Faith closed her eyes. All around her were the threads of a mystery. None of them was close enough to touch.

And at the center of it all was Buffy. Faith could feel the ghost of her touch even now. Buffy was lying to her, about so many things, but Faith felt like Buffy didn't want to be. As if there was something larger that she didn't dare reveal. There was so many things behind Buffy's eyes, half-hidden emotions that Faith didn't know what to do with. Somehow, Buffy reached into Faith's heart and triggered feelings that were almost memories. It was all so confusing, but Faith knew--she knew--that when she was watching Buffy fight, she loved what she saw.

Loved, and feared...

When Joyce called her for breakfast, Faith dragged herself out of a restless sleep. She rubbed her eyes and tried to hold on to the fragments of her dream. Something about Buffy...kissing her forehead, and whispering in her ear...

"Thank you, Faith. You saved me...and I'm so sorry..."

By the time Faith showered and hauled on a fresh set of Buffy's handmedowns, it was already fading. Joyce fixed her with a motherly eye when she slumped into the kitchen and sat at the island.

"How are you feeling today, Faith?" Joyce brought over a pot of coffee and set a mug in front of her. "Black, three sugars, right?"

Faith wrapped her hands around the mug while Joyce poured. "Sure. Whatever."

"Oh, I'm sorry. I guess I should let you remember on your own." Joyce sighed. She set the coffee down and ran a hand through Faith's hair.

"Not that that's working out so great," Faith muttered, trying not to sound too bitter. She took a drink of the coffee, fast enough to scald her tongue. The sugar was definitely a good idea.

"You just need to have a little patience," Joyce said, returning the pot to its place under the percolator. "You've already remembered more than you know." She turned around and leaned on the island opposite Faith, crossing her arms. She met Faith's eyes. "The doctors never expected you to wake up at all," she said. "You've beaten so many odds...if it takes a few days to get your memories back, it's not because they aren't coming."

Faith nodded. She traced a finger over the pattern on the coffee mug. "You really figure, huh?"

"Yes. I do."

Faith raised an eyebrow. "Then why won't you just tell me? Save the middleman or whatever."

Joyce tipped her head. "It's not my place. And, I don't know everything that you would want to know."

"So wait for Buffy to get over herself." Faith made a disgusted noise. "'Cause that's gonna happen sometime in the next century."

"Buffy has been my daughter for nearly nineteen years," Joyce said. "And if there's one thing I can say, it's that it might take a while, but usually, she can and does 'get over herself'." She smiled. "Now, how about breakfast? Today, I've got toast, and there's also...toast."

Faith snickered. "Good choices." She took another gulp of the searing coffee. "Can I help?"

"Plates are in that cupboard...jam is in the fridge."

Faith set herself a place. Joyce put the toast in front of her. Faith had just started digging in when the front door opened and closed. A moment later, Buffy walked into the kitchen. She snagged a piece of toast from the toaster and munched it dry.

Faith concentrated on spreading jam on her own slice. Buffy was wearing the same clothes that she was last night in the graveyard. Faith's nostrils twitched. The scent of dust and dry sweat was obviously too faint for Joyce to notice, but for her it was a huge sign screaming that everything that happened last night was real. Buffy had showered--Faith could smell soap, as well, and her hair was shining clean--but the clothes were steeped in last night's fight, last night's lust.

Faith bit into her toast. The awkward silence that started when Buffy came home kept growing. Joyce fiddled with the coffee maker, adding fresh grounds. Buffy stared at Faith whenever she thought Faith wasn't watching, but Faith kept catching her. She looked frightened.

Scared of me, Faith thought. How could Joyce even think that they were going to get back to being 'good friends' or whatever they had been before? Buffy not only been horribly hurt, somehow, by Faith, but now she didn't trust her as far as she could throw her. Although, considering how far Buffy had thrown a few of those thugs last night, maybe it was even less than that.

"Sorry I didn't call," Buffy said, wiping crumbs off her shirt, carefully not meeting either her mom's or Faith's eyes. "I thought you'd be okay. I stayed at Riley's."

"That's nice. How is he?" Joyce asked brightly.

"Fine," Buffy mumbled. "So...anyway, I don't have class today, so I thought Faith and I could go shopping. She needs..." Buffy waved a hand at Faith's too-tight t-shirt and too-short pants. "Well. Everything."

"That sounds good. I'll get you some money." Joyce headed out of the room. Faith tensed, wishing she still had the barrier of her presence. Buffy seemed even more tense than she had been last night, if that was possible. But maybe Joyce was right. If they could get past this tension, break the ice...maybe there was potential for so much more between them.

Faith watched Buffy pour some coffee for herself, adding milk and sugar. "Rambo?" she asked.

Buffy turned around. "What?"

"I'm guessing my nickname for you, remember?" Faith started jamming another piece of toast. Then, with a malicious smirk, she asked innocently, "Shorty?"

Buffy glared. "No."

Faith licked a bit of jam off her knife. "Mmm. Um. Sugarmuffin?"

"No!" Buffy's glare cracked, and her lips twitched into a smile. "Where did that one come from?"

"I don't know. I'm just, y'know, covering a broad spectrum."

"It wasn't anything like--"

Faith held up a hand. "No hints." She paused to consider. "Do I get something when I guess? A reward?"

"I don't think so." Buffy brought her coffee to the island and sat across from Faith. "Nope. That definitely wasn't established in the rules."

"There are rules now?" Faith grinned. "And here I was thinking I was a rebel, the kind who doesn't play by the rules, just a little dangerous..."

"Yeah," Buffy said softly. "Yeah, you are that."

Faith pointed the knife at her. "Not fair."

Buffy's eyes focused on the knife. "I know."

Faith looked at the knife. She felt a flash of her dream, of pain and falling. She dropped the knife on her plate with a clatter. Faith shook her head, trying to regain her balance. "Jesus...Buffy--"

Buffy circled the island in a flash. Too fast for any ordinary human to do it, of course, but Faith knew that. She knew that Buffy was a freak. Hell, they both were.

Buffy put a hand on her shoulder, steadying her. "Are you all right?"

"Dizzy..." Faith squeezed her eyes shut, then opened them again. "It's nothing."

"It's not nothing. You were in a coma. Nothing is nothing." Buffy pressed her shoulder. Faith took a deep breath, feeling excitement seep through their contact. The world steadied in her vision. Faith stayed stock still, trying to extend for as long as possible Buffy's touch.

Joyce came back from the other room.

Buffy jumped back from Faith's side. Faith heard the hitch in her breath. "Mom!" she said.

Joyce looked up from where she was rummaging through her purse. "What?"

"Nothing. Sorry. Just--lunch money, too, okay?"

Joyce gave Buffy a glare. "You know, a part-time job wouldn't kill you."

"The one I have just might," Buffy said sweetly. She flinched, then looked at Faith.

"Fine. Lunch." Joyce handed over some cash.

"All right. I'll just get changed." Buffy smiled uncertainly at Faith. "You'll be ready?"

Faith nodded. What choice did she have? "Yeah."

As it turned out, shopping with Buffy wasn't as painful as she'd feared. Buffy had conned the use of her mom's Jeep, so the trip to the mall was short. Store after store, bag after bag, Faith's arms filled with clothes that fit. Buffy let her choose whatever she wanted, but Faith stayed away from the slutty clothes. She was going to dress like someone new, anyway, even if the rest of her stayed the same.

Around lunchtime, Faith's growling stomach finally put an end to the shopping spree. Buffy smiled at her.

"Okay, Faith, I get the message. I've just got one more thing to get. Meet me in the food court?"

"Great," Faith said. She was starved. She picked out the sign at the edge of the food court that led to the washrooms. She pushed through some swinging doors with her bags of clothes. Beyond, there was a back service corridor with the washrooms at the end.

As she was coming out, hauling her bags and grumbling about Buffy's shopping stamina, she heard the scrape of feet in the hallway behind her.

"Slayer..."

Faith turned sharply at the sound of the deep, gravely voice. She was getting used to strangers calling her that. She glanced over her shoulder. The hallway was deserted. Faith peered into the shadows. Someone was standing there--huge, muscle-bound, and...green?

"What do you want?" Faith challenged.

"I have a gift...from a mutual friend."

Faith tensed. She shifted position. It was too subtle for most people to notice, but Faith was getting used to this too--sliding into the perfect fighting stance, fists loose and ready, feet balanced, prepared to defend any attack and lash out at the same time. "Yeah?" she asked. "And who would that be, exactly?"

The hulking figure in the shadows backed up a step, an instinctive response to Faith's aggressive pose. Faith could see more of him now. He wasn't just green, he was also covered with scales. Horns rimmed the top of his skull. His mouth was full of sharp teeth, and a forked tongue shot out to wet them before he spoke again. "The boss," he said. "Take it."

He moved, and Faith barely controlled her preemptive strike. A package, tied with brown paper and tape, sailed out of the dark. Without taking her eyes off the monster, Faith snatched it out of the air with her left hand. It was hard and rectangular, with a bulge on one side that rattled when she caught it. "What is it?"

A hissing laugh. "Find out."

"Faith?" Buffy's voice, from the entrance to the hallway. "Are you done yet?"

Faith wrenched around, her heart pounding. She didn't want Buffy to know about this. If Buffy was going to keep secrets from her, then Faith sure as hell wasn't going to tell her that guys looking like horny toads were giving her mysterious packages in dark hallways. "Coming," she called. She turned back to the monster, but he was gone. At the end of the hall, the exit door closed with a clang.

Faith backed up slowly, just in case the ugly dude had backup. She slipped the 'gift' into one of her bags filled with clothes, stuffing it underneath two tops and a pair of jeans. With a final look around the corridor, she turned around and joined Buffy back in the food court.

"I was beginning to think you'd fallen in." Buffy reached out a hand for a few of Faith's bags.

Faith shook her head. "I got it."

"Okay." Buffy snaked her way through the lunch crowd. "Found a table," she said over her shoulder.

Faith followed her. Her mind was more on the monster than on Buffy. She squeezed the handle of the bag that hid the package. Now what? Like she didn't have enough puzzles right now. A gift from 'the boss'. Someone she'd known eight months ago, another forgotten name, forgotten face. Maybe she shouldn't even try to dig up the past. She was bad news back then. She could toss the package in the garbage and never think about it again.

But if she did that, then her only link to the past outside of Buffy would be lost. And Buffy still wasn't talking. Faith frowned at Buffy's back. If Buffy wouldn't tell her what she wanted to know, then she'd have to find another way to get her memory back--and some weirdo had just provided her with an opportunity she'd be stupid to turn down.

If only Buffy had been willing to answer her questions. If only Buffy trusted her. Faith sighed. There were way too many 'if onlys' in her life. She needed the information. She would have to go behind Buffy's back. There was no use feeling guilty about it. As soon as she was alone, she'd open the package.

Buffy led her to one of the tiny tables with the moulded-plastic chairs. It was spread with more food than Faith thought they could eat in a week's worth of meals, let alone one lunch. Pulled back from her thoughts, she laughed. "You hungry or something, there, B?"

Buffy's eyes widened. "You did it!"

Faith paused, her burger halfway unwrapped. "Did what?"

"That's it. That's what you used to call me." Buffy's gaze was suspicious.

Faith squinted and thought back over their conversation. "B? That's it? That's the boringest nickname I ever heard." She shook her head. "You got that annoyed that I called you by your initial?"

"Well..." Buffy's face scrunched up uncertainly. Faith snickered. Buffy would probably whack her if she told her how cute she looked. "It was the way you said it."

"Uh-huh. Right. Well, I'll stick to Buffy if you want." Faith bit into her burger.

"No...it's okay." Buffy heaved a long-suffering sigh. "Whatever you want."

Faith laughed through her mouthful. "Fine. B it is."

Buffy blushed and smiled down at her own hamburger. Faith could hardly believe a simple nickname would affect her like that. Buffy's blush was absolutely adorable.

And where did she think she was going with thoughts like that? For one, Buffy had a boyfriend. She spent the night with him--it must be pretty hot and heavy. And besides that, they were not friends. Buffy didn't trust her. Faith was going to do an end-run around her and figure out what she wanted to know. She had the ability--and, apparently, she still had friends from before the coma. Mr. Green And Scaly might not be her first choice for a bosom buddy, but if he was going to tell her the truth, he had to be better than Buffy...

Except Faith wanted it to be Buffy.

If only.

Buffy pushed the remains of her hamburger aside. Faith realized she'd finished four while she was thinking. Obviously Buffy knew how much lunch to buy, after all.

She knew Faith so well.

Well, fuck her, if she didn't want to tell what she knew.

Buffy crumpled her garbage together and sat looking at the table for a minute. Faith could feel her nervousness. Her heart sped up, her hands felt cold. She dropped the last bite of her final burger. Buffy wanted to tell her something, but she didn't know how.

Maybe, at last...

"I got something for you," Buffy said. She smiled, like a sunrise, and Faith couldn't help but smile back. "Here."

Buffy slid a small black velvet box across the table. Jewelry? Faith held her breath. "What--?"

"Open it."

Faith bit her lip. Slowly, she lifted the box and clicked it open. On the silk bottom there lay a necklace with a silver cross hanging from it. Faith pulled it out of the box. "It's beautiful...but..."

"Here--let me put it on." Buffy leapt up and moved behind Faith. Faith felt her body warm as Buffy stood behind her. Obediently, she brushed her hair out of the way and gave the necklace to Buffy.

Buffy's fingers skimming over her neck made Faith shiver. The tiny hairs on the back of her neck stood up. She couldn't believe how much she was enjoying such a small touch. The necklace quickly warmed at the touch of her skin. Buffy fixed the clasp, then smoothed Faith's hair over it. Faith touched a finger to the cross. It fit in the hollow of her throat, just where her collarbones met. Buffy stood behind her for a moment longer before she abruptly moved back to her seat.

"It's..." Faith touched the cross again. "It's too much."

"No, it's, um...important," Buffy said. "I just--I wanted to--" She blushed. "Um, I wanted to get you something. Because, I'm sorry we've all been so..."

"Yeah." Faith felt her cheeks warm. Obviously the necklace wasn't just an apology. There was more to it than that. If Buffy didn't want to say...

Well, there was always the package. What Buffy didn't know about wouldn't hurt her.

Liar, Faith thought. She was hurt by what Buffy wasn't telling her.

"So, have you had enough shopping for one day?" Buffy asked.

"Are you kidding?" Faith tried to smile. It felt shaky. "I'm dead on my feet."

"Okay. Well, I have a lot of homework to do, so we can go home...you can hang out, watch movies, whatever, while I work. Then, tonight, I told Willow I'd meet her at the Bronze. It's a club. She's bringing a friend, and I thought maybe you'd want to go." Buffy hesitated, then added, "You love the Bronze."

"Sounds like a plan." Faith stood and grabbed her bags. "Let's go...B."

The ride home was quiet. Faith kept one hand on the bag that held her package. After Buffy pointed her to the living room and went upstairs to work, Faith took it out. The brown paper tore away easily. Inside, there was a video tape and a little metal gadget. It looked like a pair of scissors that someone had melted down and deformed, with too many finger-loops and a weird crystal thing in its centre. She fiddled with it, finding a way for it to fit over her left hand. The crystal bit went in the center of her palm, the loops around her fingers and thumb. Faith glanced towards the stairs, then put the video in Buffy's VCR. She turned on the television on with the volume down low.

On the screen, there appeared a friendly looking guy sitting behind a desk. The nameplate said "Mayor Richard Wilkins III."

Wilkins. This was her guardian. The man Nurse Owens had told her was dead. Faith leaned towards the television. She wanted to cry. This was the man who should have come for her when she woke up. He obviously didn't hate her. She tried to make sense of what he was saying, but mostly, she watched his eyes. Friendly. Believing in her.

Wilkins stepped out from behind the desk. "Now, Faith," he said, "As I record this message you're, uh...sleeping. And the doctors tell me that you might never wake up. I don't believe that. Sooner or later, you will wake up and when you do, you'll find the world has gone and changed on you."

"No shit," Faith breathed. She stared at the gizmo on her hand. This was supposed to make the world a better place for her?

Funny how she didn't really trust the messenger. Too many weird things had happened in the last two days. The green monster in the hallway had raised her hackles. Last night in the cemetery she'd had the same feeling. All her inner voices were urging her to kill him, screaming that he was the enemy. Buffy might not be truthful, but at least she didn't set Faith's interior alarm off. Faith wanted to trust her.

Anyway, what could this stupid doohickey do? Change the world? Yeah, right. She didn't even know what to do with it.

"And, hey, just because it's over for my Faith, doesn't mean she can't go out with a bang!" On screen, Wilkins chuckled. The scene faded. Faith sighed and started to take off the thing on her hand.

"Faith!"

Faith jumped. Buffy had crept up on her. "What?"

Buffy shook her head, unable to speak. Her green eyes filled with tears. "You--" she whispered. "You're still with him."

"With who?" Faith asked harshly. "I don't even know who he is--"

Rage filled Buffy's face. "I can't--I believed you didn't remember--and you were laughing at us, you played me--"

"No--Buffy, what the hell?"

"What is that?" Buffy made a grab for Faith's hand. Faith pulled away.

"It's nothing."

"A little parting gift from the Mayor? That's nothing?" Buffy's fists clenched. Without realizing what she was doing, Faith mirrored her, until they were staring at each other in the living room, both quivering on the edge of violence. "You bitch."

"You're so full of bullshit, Buffy!" Faith said. "You're a killer way more than I am! I saw you last night! Don't tell me that four guys disappearing is a regular night for you!"

"You followed me--"

"You didn't tell me anything! If this mayor guy will answer a few questions then I'm sure as hell going to listen--"

"I won't let you hurt my friends."

"Who said anything about--"

"Give it to me, Faith." Buffy held out her hand.

"What?" Faith took a step back. "No!" She'd beaten Buffy in the hospital...tossed her into a wall. She could do it again.

Buffy lunged for her. Faith tried to get out of the way, find a place to stand where she could pivot cleanly and send Buffy flying. Buffy was too fast. She grabbed Faith's hand to wrench the device away from her, and--

And there was a burst of light. Faith tried to gasp and couldn't breathe. She didn't have lungs. She didn't have a body. She was flying, dying, falling--just like all her dreams.


*


DA DA DUM!