Hanging by a Moment A 'Buffy the Vampire Slayer' drabble Sephy For Brigdh Faith remembers. --broken screaming in the night, her mother's sobs after whatever bastard she was with at the time beat her down, leaving a bruising, bleeding mess for Faith to find in the morning. She was eight years old and it was the first time she'd known that the world wasn't a safe place, that there were monsters in human faces. --the sting of her mouth when she sassed back, again her mother crying while some asshole glared down at her. She had never stopped crying, her mom, not even when she was high as a kite on whatever shit she pumped into her system, courtesy of her live-in pimp of the moment. There was no trusting men, she'd learned that lesson well from her mother. They used and abused and then dumped you. Better to take what you want from them, suck them dry until you didn't need them anymore. There was no such thing as loyalty on the streets and none of the Romper Room reject videos her counselors made her sit through could convince her otherwise. Faith was all grown up then, fourteen years old and seducing the counselor, a nervous, birdy little man who couldn't help but watch her through large black eyes, hungry, always so hungry. He was her first but not terribly memorable, too busy babbling about morals and getting caught even as he pushed inside her to be anything but a loser. But hey, at least she'd gotten out of class. --cutting class and coming home to finding her mother sprawled across the floor, body stiff and cold, needle in her arm and eyes finally empty of tears. Same year, months later. She thinks maybe Bird boy might have wanted to take her in, to make his own personal fuck toy in the off hours as well as the broom closet but Fate, nosy bitch that she is, interfered. She'd gotten as far as sprinting out the door of social services when a loooooong black car, like the kind you see in the movies, pulled up and out stepped-- The Tweeds. Tweedledee and Tweedle Tight Ass. She remembers them well. At the time she couldn't figure out what a couple of rich bitch society geeks wanted with her and racked her brain to see if any of the houses she'd knocked off in the spare time had been that upper crust. She hated the way they looked at her, with disappointed expectance like she was a dog expected to perform a trick but had pissed in the carpet instead. And that was when she heard The Word. Chosen. Slayer. To be honest, it sounded like a lot of crazy bullshit at the time but she figured what the hell, it was a meal, a roof over her head and if the Tweeds got too bad she could just run away and hook up with her gang again. They took her to London. The commute got a little less plausible. She'd found herself dumped in the middle of some crumbling castle in Berkshire, nasty cold weather and rickety roof and a new woman to depend on. Lucy. She's never cried for her mother, but Faith cries for Lucy sometimes. Lucy was the first person who ever thought she was worth a damn, who wanted Faith to do well, not just because she was a possible Slayer, but because she cared. Lucy fed her, treated her like an adult, taught her all she needed to know to be a Slayer and the beginnings of what she needed to be a person, a real person and -- She let Lucy die. Cloven hooves wriggling out of her Watcher's chest. No more Lucy. No more mother-daughter giggling, no more training sessions followed up with shopping expeditions. Just dead flesh. And running. She hadn't been able to run fast enough. By that time she'd been Called, activated by the death of the Slayer Kendra who had been activated by the death of Buffy Summers before her. Only Buffy hadn't stayed dead and Faith had figured, Hey great, chick who won't stay dead. Sounds like my kinda deal. And so she had run to Sunnydale for purely selfish reasons, wanting to find a safe haven, some protection, at least for a while. She'd stayed for another selfish reason entirely. Faith remembers the first time she saw Buffy Summers. She'd been in bigger, better dives than the Bronze, seedier ones too but none of them had ever had anything like Buffy Summers. Sitting primly with her friends, blond hair perfectly coiffed as she sipped her drink, bronze skin perfect in the smoky light. So perfect, so coy, and wound so tight it hurt. Faith had hated her instantly until-- Her face turned and she saw those big sad-old eyes. No one should have eyes like that. Not even Faith had eyes like that and she'd been through sheer hell the entirety of her life. It was her eyes that had made Faith rethink and give her a second chance, that had made Faith stay in Sunnydale despite her better judgment. No one resisted B. Summers for very long -- one man had gone to straight to literal hells for it. It wasn't love. Not then. Not yet. There would still have to be blood and death and betrayal between them before that happened but there was attraction. Deep and abiding, cutting Faith to the bone, making her throw herself before the lions again and again to get Buffy's approval. She'd never done that before and she hated the way it made her feel. Hated the vulnerability and the exposure. Had hated Buffy for being so oblivious, for not feeling the same connection and for pulling away. But then Faith had pulled back first, unable to trust anyone because people either used you or they died and that was it. Her mother had. Lucy had. The Mayor had. And so had B. She'd felt her death, really and truly crying -- embarrassing gulps that had taken a week worth of pounding the shit out of people in jail to restore her rep. B was dead, again. Angel stopping by the next day, his face gray and looking like the dead thing he was... That was just icing. She'd known long before, the instant her body hit the ground, Faith had known. Buffy was dead. Buffy had fought the good fight and sacrificed herself. Faith hated her again. But the love won out, the feelings she had never acknowledged. Out of fear, out of spite, and because she didn't know how to relate to anyone without screwing them and that's not what she had wanted from Buffy. But Buffy had come back. Again. Sprinkle a little fairy dust, say the magic word, and instant Slayer! Popping out the dirt and earth like a daisy. A really hardy, sarcastic daisy. It would be two years before Faith laid eyes on the blond Slayer again. Two long years of contemplating her sins, herself and her feelings. Two years before she finally made peace with the fact that she was in love with Buffy Summers. Had been since that night at the Bronze. Made her peace with the fact that she could never act on that, that she was consigned to an endless string of losers for the rest of her life because hey, she still had an image to maintain. So she'd come back to Sunnydale when Willow asked, expecting nothing, receiving a slightly warmer welcome than she'd anticipated. Maybe because Buffy was too busy fighting for her life to turn down her help. Sick as it was, that had made Faith a little proud, to be needed, to know that Buffy needed her -- so much that she couldn't turn her away because of past injuries. Even though it must have hurt like hell to fight side by side with the girl who had betrayed her over and over again. But Buffy wasn't alone. She was never alone. Angel. Riley. And now Spike. At least she could respect Angel and Spike, fucked as the idea of vampires screwing Slayers was. But Riley should have known...should have realized that it was Faith he had fucked that night, Faith in big sister's clothing but he hadn't. Angel would have. She'd bet Spike would have, too. /She/ would have. But Riley is out of the picture and doesn't matter anyway. Spike is out of the picture too, and she's sorry for that. Had liked him in spite of the fact they'd ended up whaling on each other at one point. She holds no grudges there, because maybe if she'd had more of a spine she might have done as he did. But she'd gotten caught up -- in trying to do the right thing, in trying to carry out Buffy's wishes, in trying to prove to Buffy that she was worthy. Worthy of what? Buffy was too much the straight and narrow arrow to ever consider... "What are you thinking about?" A hand touches her face and she closes her eyes. This is her dream, the little piece of happiness she longed for in prison but never thought to have beyond the jail of her mind. She looks into large blue eyes, so expressive, languid and concerned and she turns her face into the hand that cups her cheek. Faith still doesn't know how it happened. Two years after the Hellmouth's destruction and vanning with the Scooby Gang and this is where she's come. To the place she always wanted to be -- in Buffy's arms, headed--she doesn't know where. Doesn't care. "I love you, B." And Buffy smiles, a little uncomfortably perhaps. She can't say the words yet, Faith knows. Maybe she won't ever. She thinks maybe the other Slayer was as surprised by their sudden relationship as Faith was and in spite of her friendship with Sabrina, Faith knows she's not used to things. To being with another woman. She's still a little unclear at what point the battling evil bad things and keeping the forces of darkness at bay had turned into something passionate. The memory of Buffy's mouth hard against hers, both of them slick with blood and monster goo the night things had changed between them. They'd both thought at first it was strictly a one time thing, one of those charged moments after a good ass kicking, leaving them both horny and with no one to take it out on but each other. But B still keeps coming back. And so Faith wonders. The brat doesn't approve. Neither does Cyclops. And Giles...Well, she doesn't want to know what he thinks. She's sure it would probably be something wordy and long-winded, when a simple, "I hate this," would do. No one spoke up and things continued. She sometimes wonders if they've fallen into a pattern -- fight, win, screw. And then there are times, little things, Buffy touching her hand or like tonight, coming in after an unsuccessful patrol and cuddling with her that makes her think, 'Maybe.' Lucy had once told her she couldn't live her life by maybes but that isn't true. She can live, teetering from one moment to the next, wondering where they'd go, what they'd do and if Buffy would ever tell her, if she ever meant a fraction to Buffy what all her other loves did. It makes the ride that much more interesting. And Faith loves a good ride. ***End return to splash page