The Faith Factor

Part 8

Broken cheekbones are nasty. An injury like that you have to be careful about; could ruin a person's looks if it doesn't set right.

It hadn't taken me very long to figure out which room belonged to Beefstick, and even less time than that to jimmy the window open. No obvious alarms, so it was all good. They had him so high on painkillers that he never heard me.

I eyed him with appreciation, noting his smooth chest and hard muscles. But that view was ruined too, by the large bandage they used to wrap his ribs.

I wonder how he had explained it to them. Did he say, "Oh, I know I told you guys it was all clear, but then I decided to jump this chick"? Or maybe he told them he ran into a door by accident. A door which then jumped up and pounded the crap out of him. Maybe he just went with the classic, "I fell down the stairs."

Bastard. I could kill him in a flat second. Just snap his neck. Or maybe suffocate him; that wouldn't leave any marks. Buffy'd never know, no one would know. And he'd be off our backs, for good.

At times like this, I always remember those cool "Choose Your Own Adventure" books they had when I was a kid. You know, where they would give you a story and then ask you to choose what you did next, like "Do you talk to the dragon?" or "Do you attack the dragon?"

So guess which one I always chose?

Thing was, whenever I did that it almost always meant a quick and painful end to the story. And this story was just getting to the point where it really meant a whole hell of a lot to me.

So I just shook my head, and climbed out the window. I hope Beefstick appreciated how close to death he came just now; but no, he'd never know, cuz he was just laying there, doped up and sleeping peacefully.

Of course, he'll be a damned sight less peaceful when he rolls over in the morning and sees Adam's severed head in bed with him. I chuckled; I'd give anything to be able to see that. But no, places to go and all that.

You didn't think I was going to let him go without even a warning, did you?

"What took you so long?" She asked, kissing me soundly. I noticed Xander trying to do the "look but don't look" thing, so I kept the kiss going for a couple extra minutes. Hell, he had been a real trooper tonight, he deserved a thrill.

Finally, I broke for air. "Sorry, took me longer than I thought to get rid of that thing. We got anything to drink around here?"

"Yeah, we kicked demon butt. I say it's Miller time," Xander said, looking around.

Giles answered from the living room where he was slumped in a chair. "There's soda in the refrigerator."

"Hardly the drink of choice for brave warriors returning from battle," Xander complained. Giles just shot him a look. "Soda it is." He grabbed a few sodas from the fridge and began passing them out.

"How awful..." Red's voice was pretty quiet; she and the little witch were sacked out on the couch looking pretty frayed and worn. They looked like B and I did when we'd gone fifteen rounds with the undead; those spells must really be a bitch to cast.

"Ok, I'm not a big fan of Tab either, but it's all Mr. I-Don't-Know-Anything-About-American-Culture has in the fridge," Xander answered, looking at the can with disgust.

"No, I mean, yeah that's gross, but I was talking about Adam."

"What about him, Will?" B asked. I sat down on one of the kitchen stools and pulled her back against me, wrapping my hands around her waist. I didn't really feel like being away from her, right then.

"Well, according to the information that Riley got to us, um, before," she looked over at us in apology, "Adam's brain wasn't really in his head. It was a processor chip in his chest, between his power source and spinal cord."

"Oooookay," B said. She wasn't alone; I didn't know what the hell Red was getting at, either.

"What did happen to Adam's chest?" I asked B quietly.

"Will and Tara sent it to a pocket dimension, or something," B said, shrugging.

"So...?" Xander asked.

"So, we've just gone all 'Johnny Got His Gun' with him," Red answered sadly.

Blank stares all 'round.

"I think you need to reach a little lower for the pop culture references there, Will," Xander said, all puzzled and shit.

"I think what Willow is saying is that Adam remains fully awake and aware, yet he cannot move, cannot feel, cannot hear, or see, or speak. He is trapped," the G-man explained.

"Wow. Heavy," I said. Everyone nodded, serious looks on their faces. "So, who's up for microwave popcorn?"

Now, I'm lying in bed, all warm and clean and comfortable, with the most beautiful woman in the world wrapped around me.

What did B call it? Oh yeah, "symmetry."

Adam was dead. With any luck, Beefstick and the Commando Boys would be laying off. So that just left the normal assortment of demons and vampires who were almost constantly trying to kill us.

And it left me. Who was, at one time, Buffy's biggest enemy of all.

I looked down at B's face, so peaceful. Open. Honest. We had been through so much together the past couple of weeks. I'll have to hand it to her, she took all my doubts, all my self-loathing and self-pity, and she weathered all of it. She not only put up with it, she tried to reassure me as much as possible.

Just how did a fucked-up, murdering bitch like me get to have someone like her in my life?

"Whatcha thinkin'?" She murmured, looking up at me sleepily. I didn't realize until right then that I had been staring at her the whole time.

Lie to her, I thought. Lie to her and tell her, 'I was just thinking you're the most gorgeous, sexy woman on Earth.'

"He told me my days were numbered."

B blinked, and drew herself up, looking at me all alarmed and shit. "What? Who?"

I never changed expression, I just kept talking in that same dull voice. "The Mayor. Had a videotape delivered to me not long after I woke up. Told me that once he was dead, there was nothing for me anymore. That I wouldn't have a place in the world...not without him."

B took one of my hands in hers, and kissed it. "I hope you know that's not true."

"I thought it was true at the time. Now..." I shrugged. "I keep waiting for the other shoe to drop, B. It's hard."

She didn't jump to reassure me or anything, she just looked at me, kinda sad. "What can I do to make you believe it?"

"I don't know. Maybe nothing. Maybe I'll get it eventually, maybe it'll get through this thick skull of mine. I just don't know."

We sat there for a while, B looking at me, and me just staring off across the room.

"Do you love me?"

What? The question came totally out of left field, catching me off guard. "Yeah, I mean, of course I love you." What was she thinking, wasn't I telling her that enough? Isn't she happy? God, if I've done something to make her unhappy...

"You know I love you," she said. "And you know that when you wanted to pull away from me, I didn't let you go. Don't you trust me?"

I looked away, avoiding her eyes. "Of course I trust you. It's me I don't trust."

"I don't know why not. You saved my life. Twice."

I grimaced. "It's not that kind of trust. I always make the wrong choices, especially when it comes to relationships."

"Why do you think that?"

"Just look at my track record--"

B cut me off. "Your track record tells me one thing: you are looking for someone to love you, to understand you. Completely and totally. And most everyone has fallen short. Family, boyfriends, girlfriends, the Mayor...most of them loved you, or pretended to love you, for what you could give them."

She sat up, looking me straight in the eyes, no bullshit, no pretense. "I love you for who you are. Completely and totally. I know the best about you, and I know the worst about you, too. I've seen it all, first hand.

"I understand you, Faith. And you understand me. You're the first person who really has." She leaned over and kissed me tenderly. I never really knew what that felt like before I was with B. She broke the kiss and went into the bathroom, cutting off any argument I was about to make.

I leaned back and stared up at the ceiling. She was right. Damn, she had a way of looking straight into my soul. I used to look there, too, before I started hating the thing that was looking back at me. Maybe it was time for me to start looking again, and trusting what I found.

So I kissed her goodbye, already having decided on what I was going to be doing this afternoon.

The door chimed a little when I walked into the gallery. I wandered around for a couple of minutes, just looking at all the crap they had up on the walls, and how much cash people were willing to drop for it.

"Hello, may I help--" Joyce cut herself off when she rounded the corner and saw me standing here. "Faith."

"Mrs. Summers." I looked around a little and said, "There somewhere around here we can talk?"

She nodded, and led me back to an office. "What do you want to talk about?"

"Buffy. Look Jo--" I corrected myself immediately. "Mrs. Summers. It's tearing her up that you won't accept us. I know a lot of stuff has happened in the past, and I'm sorry for it. All of it. But I'm not sorry, I won't ever be sorry that I'm in love with your daughter."

I saw her wince a little at that. Tough; she had to get used to hearing it. "It's not that I really mind that Buffy is involved with a girl..."

"I know, it's me," I said, finishing her thought. "If it's any consolation, I didn't believe it either. And I tried not to accept it, I really tried my best to run away from her. But she didn't let me. She knew everything I'd done, everything I was, and she still didn't let me."

I looked Joyce in the eyes, hoping that she saw something there that would let her believe me. "I understand if you don't trust me; shit, most of the time I don't trust me. But I have learned to trust your daughter. I hope you can too."

She stood there, quiet. Thinking. That was good enough for me.

I turned around with a mumbled, "See ya," and walked out of the gallery.

I didn't do it for Joyce, and I sure as hell didn't do it for me. I did it for Buffy. I just hope I got through to her, cuz I hate having these little heart-to-hearts. I know B's mom can be stubborn, but goddammit, so can I.

I sighed. Sometimes I missed the old days. Things were so much simpler when I just beat the crap out of people if they didn't give me what I wanted.