Ski Trip

Title: Ski Trip, WIP.
Timeline: Amends.
Rating: This is fluff! Fluff I say! Mild angst in later chapters. NC-17 eventually, but not for several chapters.
Disclaimer: Blah blah blah Joss-cakes.
Author's Notes: I got s3 DVDs for Christmas. What can I say? It's time to start making things better, one ep at a time.
Feedback: Do you know of anybody who doesn't want some?

*

"So what was that all about?"

Faith spun away from the open front door where she'd been staring down the street after Buffy. Joyce was standing right behind her. Jeez, it was something to be trusted to keep Mrs. S safe, but couldn't B have taken five minutes to explain the sitch to her mom before bugging off? "Uh--" She took one last glance out at the street, but Buffy was gone. "Slayer stuff, I guess."

"Oh, really? Without telling me?" Joyce frowned and walked back into the living room. She prodded at the fire with the poker. "And on Christmas Eve. Why didn't you go with her?"

Faith closed the door and leaned against the wall, hanging back a bit. Did Mrs. S even know that Angel was back? And if not, then what could she really say without risking a mean right cross to the jaw? She shrugged. "Well, y'know, I'm on guard duty, here."

Joyce looked up at that. "For me?"

Faith nodded and crossed her arms over the stupid good-girl blouse she'd chosen for tonight. Because it was a good-girl thing, right? Christmas Eve with the family, even if it hadn't been B's idea.

The fire got another vicious jab, and sparks went flying. The poker clattered as Joyce shoved it back into its holder. "So, what's Buffy up to tonight?"

"Uh, fighting the good fight?" she tried half-heartedly.

"Faith--" Faith winced at the 'don't even try to bullshit me' tone in Joyce's voice. "Call it a Mom thing, but I like to know where my daughter is on these occasions when my life is apparently in danger, but she doesn't see fit to tell me herself before going out and risking hers."

"It's Angel."

"Angel? The vampire Buffy promised me she would not be seeing again Angel?" Joyce shook her head. "Of course that Angel."

"He's, like, getting the Poltergeist treatment from some big bad," Faith said. "B just wants to help him." Right. Just help him. Like a friend. For sure not because he was the love of her life, or anything. 'Cause B had made promises to all of them about that.

"And I suppose there's nothing you or I can do until she comes home?"

Faith nodded, and said absently, "Unless he tries to relive his glory days and attacks us 'cause he thinks you're helpless. Then I poof him."

Joyce took a seat on the couch and stared at her. "You wouldn't have a problem with that?"

"I got this motto. Vampire, slayer, dead vampire."

Joyce smiled. "I like it."

Faith tried a tight smile, wishing there was more she could be doing. She was action girl, not sit-around-waiting-in-uncomfortable-silence girl. But there was really not much else to say. She hadn't come over for Buffy's mom's sake.

"Well, Faith, I guess this means you can help me with the cooking." Joyce headed for the kitchen. "The turkey's almost ready."

Faith followed behind her. Anything to take her mind off Buffy and Angel. Her dying, or him being rescued, or any and all of the cheesy star-crossed lover stuff they might be declaring to each other afterwards. "I don't know what B's told you, but I don't really do the Martha Stewart thing."

"That's alright. I'm going to make gravy. I'll let you carve the turkey--that's usually Buffy's job. I always wondered how she got so good at it when we moved here."

"I get a carving knife, huh?" Faith grinned. "Then I guess cooking might be my thing after all."

She followed Joyce into the kitchen, trying to forget she was borrowing family.

***

"Faith, wake up!"

She started upright, reaching in one fluid motion for the knife in her boot before recognising that her feet were bare and at some point she'd been wrapped in a blanket as she lay on the couch. Tangled, she nearly fell off before coming completely awake. "What? Is it a demon? Do I gotta slay?"

"No, come and see." Joyce smiled and held out her hand. As if I'm her kid or something, Faith thought, and allowed herself to take it. Looks like B never got back last night. Jeez, what if she's--

Dead?

With Angel?

"Come and look, Faith. It's snowing!"

Faith shook off the bad thoughts and walked out onto the front porch with Buffy's mom. She shivered at the sudden cold, feeling it shoot through her, and extended her arms out to the falling flakes. It was past sunrise, by her internal Slayer-clock, but the sky was dark with clouds.

"Wow, I didn't know you guys went all White Christmas out here," she said, hugging herself a bit in the wind but reluctant to go back inside. "It's like Boston, almost." Boston, but better. You wouldn't freeze your face off after ten minutes in this. And here, there were places where she'd be welcomed in out of the cold. Not many, but still...

"It hasn't snowed like this in ages," Joyce said. "Maybe we should break out the skis before Buffy's winter break is over."

Faith glanced over her shoulder. "You guys ski? That's wicked cool."

Joyce nodded. "Well, not since we moved here...Hank used to take us, back before...Well. Buffy always enjoyed skating, but she never turned down a ski weekend. All our equipment's still in the closet. Except I think my poles may have been used to fend off the undead a couple of months ago."

"Yeah, I heard about that. Zombies. Wish I coulda been there." She turned back to watch the snow falling, staring up the street in the direction Buffy had taken last night. She was starting to shiver, and Joyce was huddling in the open doorway, but neither of them said anything about why they weren't heading back inside. "I went skiing once," she said, softly, leaning against the porch post. It had been a class trip pretty soon before she dropped out--one of the only ones she'd ever managed to sneak away with. She forged her mom's signature on the forms and funded herself with the cash from half a dozen stolen wallets. She'd had no clue how to ski, but it was mostly about getting away for a couple of days, pretending like she was leaving forever. Finding out how much she enjoyed it was just a bonus...after she suckered a few lessons from ski-lunks wanting to 'improve her form', she had actually managed to escape into the rhythm of it. There was hell to pay when she got back--

"Faith--" Joyce hesitated, then asked, "Would you like to go with us? Skiing?"

Faith started and turned around, giving up her watch on the empty street. "For real?" She stopped, then started talking fast enough to outpace Willow at her worst. "I mean, uh, I don't wanna mess with your and B's holiday. And, I really can't, I got no cash, you know? And no stuff. Plus I guess there's the slaying, somebody's gotta keep on top of it if you guys are going out of town. And maybe B doesn't really want to do the best-bud thing with me, she'd probably want to go with Red. And I'm a pretty crappy skier."

Joyce smiled. "Sounds like you're sure."

"Right." The clouds were starting to break up now, strands of pale sunlight leaking through. There was nearly a foot of snow in the yard, pretty freaky for South Cal, and the wind was still icy. Faith shuffled her feet through the dusting of snow on the porch. Her feet were throbbing with cold, and she wondered how she hadn't noticed it before. "Anyway, looks like any vamp coming after you is kissing daylight by now. I better be getting back."

"Aren't you going to wait for Buffy? We still have gifts to open."

"Yeah, well, I got stuff to do, y'know." She didn't want to see Buffy. She didn't want to wait for Buffy, and know to the second how long she'd been gone. "I'll just get my jacket."

They stepped inside, closing out the sudden winter, and Faith hunted for her boots while Joyce got her coat from the closet. "So, anyway, I wanted to say thanks, y'know, for inviting me," she said quickly, and edged towards the door. She opened it to find Buffy standing there, just reaching for the knob.

"Oh, Buffy, you're back!" Joyce rushed into the hallway and hugged Buffy. "Good, now you can help me convince Faith stay for presents."

Buffy raised an eyebrow at Faith. "Not staying for presents? Where's the real Faith and what have you done with her?"

Faith shrugged and backed away from the door. "Nothin'. How'd it go with, uh, everything?"

"Score is Buffy: one, Evil: I'm boring, full of myself, and ineffective." Buffy bounced into the living room and held her hands out to the coals in the fireplace. With the encouragement of Joyce's motherly glare, Faith tossed her jacket in the direction of the closet. Kept her boots, though. Faith slumped back onto the couch where she'd spent the night. Looking down at Buffy, she could see that the whole story wasn't getting told any time soon. Despite her easy words, Buffy's eyes looked red from crying. Not something Faith was really good at noticing, ususally. But if Buffy wanted to avoid, Faith was willing to play along--for now.

"So, you wanted me to stay, are you gonna open what I got you?"

Buffy spun around, a huge smile spreading over her face. Faith shifted, trying to hide her answering smile. She spent the night with Angel and left you to rot, she yelled at herself. She didn't even want you here in the first place. But seeing how a single word about her presents caused happiness return to Buffy's eyes made it too easy to forget. She was already tearing through the scraps of newspaper Faith had tied around her gift. Tossing the paper aside, she held up the stake like it was the Holy Grail or something.

"A new Mr. Pointy," she declared, as if a million stakes hadn't gone through her hands in the last few years. "Thank you, Faith. I'll save it for a special vampire."

"Yeah," Faith said. I can think of one 'special' vampire. Shut up, she likes it. "Don't go getting mushy on me, B, that thing's meant for using, it's not like I want you to set up a shrine or anything."

"I think it's very thoughtful." Joyce brought out a plate full of turkey leftovers from the kitchen. "Here, Buffy, eat, you missed dinner last night. Faith, did you want some breakfast?"

Faith nodded. She was pretty much trapped here, now, but it wasn't like she had plans. In fact, it was kind of nice, exactly what she'd hoped would happen last night. Maybe they could finally get over this whole thing between them, Mrs. Post and Angel and all that crap. Maybe she could finally relax. She reached over the arm of the couch to mooch some turkey cold cuts from Buffy's plate, and grinned when she got her hand firmly slapped. She stared at Buffy and waggled her eyebrows as she licked her fingers clean. Buffy stuck her tongue out in return. Yeah, this definitely had possibilities.

"Now, girls, I know you want to dive in to all the presents," Joyce said, "but I have an even better idea. Buffy, Faith and I were thinking it would be wonderful to take a ski weekend, the three of us, maybe over New Year's. What do you think?"

Faith started to object, but Buffy's squeal of excitement interrupted her.

"Wow!" Buffy jumped up, nearly spilling the turkey sandwich she'd piled together. "Really, Mom? Can you get the time off? Ooh! Can there be a hot tub? And incredibly obscene amounts of hot chocolate? Can Faith really come?"

"I can't--" Faith started, and was immediately at the receiving end of two ers ers glares. This was not happening. And yet... "I can't ski so hot," she finished lamely.

"No problem," Buffy said airily, waving away the objection. "You've got Slayer strength and co-ordination. And if that's not enough, I'm a great teacher."

Faith sank back on the cushions and watched as Joyce and Buffy proceeded to plan the next week of her life. She was going away with Buffy. To a ski lodge in the mountains. With a hot tub. Over New Year's Eve. Shit.

The line between amazing and disaster seemed to be growing a hell of a lot thinner lately.

***