Garden: Aftermath
"She must be down this way."
That's the first sound I hear when I start coming to after a long night of almost end of the world festivities. Still chained up like a damn dog, I couldn't do anything but watch when the big rumble went down. I gotta admit, I thought we were all toast for a while there. The second that big rock came to life with the swirling vortex, I saw my whole miserable life flash before my eyes. Everything from mom's drinking to the night I lost my virginity played across the movie theater in my head like a fuckin' 3-D IMAX flick.
I was ready for the grim reaper to take my hand drag me down to Hell with Buffy and Angelus when the fireworks fizzled and Angelus was dust. B ran out with her boytoy trailing after her like a trained puppy and I was left here, in the crypt, half-conscious and freezing my ass off. You think they could've at least covered me up with something thicker than a sheet, you know?
I spent the next few minutes cruising in and out of consciousness, delirious from pain and blood loss. Couldn't even feel my wrists at that point; couldn't really feel much of anything. Just cold and with this wicked ache in my bones. I knew I looked like Hell -- all pale from blood loss and bruised a pretty shade of black-and-blue. B's little prank with that headstone didn't help much with my look either. Princess is so gonna pay for that the second I get out of here and can stand on my own feet again. Girl totally played me! Made me think that she was all over the two of us being together when all she really wanted was to clock me in the head and feed me to her vampire boyfriend. Wonder how her perfect whitebread boyfriend is gonna react to that one. Bet Giles won't be too thrilled to hear about it, either. So when I hear the old man's voice, I'm fuckin' ecstatic!
"Over here, Willow, this looks like the room."
The voice is decidedly British and pompous -- a clear sign that the G-man is here to come to my rescue. I try to open my mouth to say something, but the only sound that comes out is this wicked wimpy sounding moan. If I wasn't seven shades of white right now, I'd so be blushing. I mean, here I am, tied up and naked, barely able to lift a hand or open my mouth, and my heroes come in the form of a fifty something British priss and his geeky little red-haired teacher's pet.
Man, if Wesley's here, I'm gonna hope that the hits I took in the head cause permanent brain damage and I end up taking that trip to the great beyond after all. The last thing I need is that wuss seeing me like this and lecturing me on how I should've been more careful. I know, okay? I let my guard down and I paid. Got one incredible orgasm out of it, but it didn't really beat out all the rape and torture afterwards. I'm still trying to wrap my head around that one. I played the part of a vampire's bitch for the better part of the night, I *know* I fucked up at this point. Next times I decide to run off half-cocked, I'll take back up.
"Are you sure, Mr. Giles? I mean, I don't see.... OH GOD!" I hear the brainiac squeak out. Guess that means they found me, huh? I'm so bummed out about it that I fake unconsciousness. "Is she...?"
And just as she's about to ask if I'm kibbles 'n bits, I feel Giles warm fingers press up against the pulsepoint on my neck.
"No," he answers with a hint of relief. I'm almost touched that the old man actually gives a damn beyond the head I gave him last month after class. "Her pulse is steady. A touch weak, but it's there."
There's a long silence that follows. I hear some shuffling as Giles gets back up on his feet and the sound of Red's heavy breathing. I must be pretty bad off if the chick's practically hyperventilating. Then I hear it, the sound of disbelief in her shaky tone.
"Did Buffy really do all this?" she asks... and the bitch couldn't be more naive. You'd think that after B beat her up, she'd get the clue that her bestest pal had gone bad.
No reply from Giles, but there is the clank of metal hitting metal and then my numb hands hit the ground, free from their shackles. Way to go, Giles! Pulling out the big guns to free naughty slayer Faith. Still can't feel a damn thing, but I'll take this over being tied up any day. Warm hands cover up my cold ones as they start to massage the life back into them. Aww, check that out -- I even get the tender love 'n care stuff from the guy. Maybe he really does dig me after all.
"Willow, if it's possible, do you think you could look around and see if there's some more... adequate covering for Faith?"
A pause, and then: "Oh, yeah, sure. Definitely! I'll, um, just go and check back in the bedroom. I think I saw blankets there."
The scurry of feet across cement signal Willow's exit and then it's just me and Giles. I wonder how bad I look, but don't get much time to linger when Giles starts speaking to me.
"Faith, Faith, are you alright?" He sounds wicked concerned; ends up pulling my head in his lap so his hands can move up to caress my face. I keep on faking long enough to get a, "Faith, come on, love, you're safe now. We're all here to bring you back to the Academy."
"You're late," I croak out, my eyes still squeezed shut. "Where were you six hours ago?"
I open my eyes then to shoot an accusatory look at him. Yeah, it's all good and nice that the cavalry's here for the aftermath, but where were they when Angelus had me backed up against a wall, ramming into me so hard I could see the blood streaming down my legs afterwards? Where were they when he bit down on me and practically drained me to death? With all the holes in my body, I'm surprised I'm still here to see the sun rise. I know it ain't fair to play the blame game, but I'm really not seeing the wrong in it after all I've been through.
"Yes, yes, I know... and I really am quite sorry. We all are... we just hadn't the faintest idea that Buffy and Angelus had captured you at first or that the ritual was starting so soon. By the time we realized what had happened and formulated a plan, it was, well, too late as you must be thinking right now."
"You don't have any idea what I'm thinkin' right now," I reply back gravely.
I'm too tired for this shit. I don't want apologies. All I want is to get the feeling back in my legs so I can get up, walk out of this town, and never look back. I knew this whole set up would end up being a total bust. A better life, they said -- that's what they could give me. Well, I'm really feeling that right now. You can change the scenery, hand out better food and give me a decent place to stay, but it's still all the same bullshit. You can dress it up how you want, but it doesn't change the fact that I'm curled up naked on a cold cement floor, not any better off than I was in South Boston.
"You're right," Giles gives in with a deep sigh. "I probably don't understand what you could possibly be going through right now, but I want you to know that I am here. We all are."
Blah, blah, blah. Cut the crap, Grandpa. I don't have the energy to argue, so I just close my eyes and turn away. It's the best I can do at this point. Giles sighs again and the redhead comes back with some blankets. No one says a word as Gramps covers the sheet with a big fat comforter and rolls me up in it like a human burrito. I'm fading fast by the time he hoists me up into his arms and calls out to someone about bringing the car around. If they bring me to a hospital, I'll fucking kill somebody. They're just flesh wounds, you know? Give me a hot bath, something to eat, and slayer healing will do the rest.
* * * * *
I don't wake up again until it's dark outside. I'm alone, and in a bedroom that sure as Hell ain't mine. The bed is huge, probably king-sized, and smells funny. Like tea and old books and... whiskey? Whatever. I'm just glad that I'm somewhere in the Academy and not in a fucking hospital bed somewhere. Giles must've cleaned me up and found me clothes, because when I look down at myself under the pile of blankets covering me up; I'm clean, bandaged, and covered up in somebody's old T-shirt and a pair of sweat pants. Man, whoever put these clothes on me sure as fuck doesn't know a thing about fashion. I feel like a fucking prude in this get up. Bet it was Wes; he's *always* telling me to cover up and wear something more slaying appropriate... like sweatpants. I can kick in my leathers, so I don't get what his deal is. It's not like I'm out there in platform shoes and miniskirts like B. Makes for a fun patrol when I get a peek at her panties, but I'll never get how she can run in those heels.
Something cold and angry wells up in me at just the thought of Buffy and I curse to myself, the memories of last night all coming back to hit me in a red hot fury. I have to get out of here. Out of this school, out of this town, out of this whole fucking state. I don't want to deal with this people, knowing what happened and looking at me like I'm some poor helpless victim when I'm the goddamned slayer over here! I don't need their pity. I don't need anyone's fucking pity! I just got tricked, you know? I thought we'd fuck and then fight a little and go home. I didn't expect B to have some master plan in mind when we met up in that cemetery. I didn't even think vamps were into doing... doing that. I mean, the guy wanted to end the world. Where does fucking fit into that equation? He's got his blonde bitch for that. Buffy too, if she ever dropped the prude act long enough to actually enjoy herself. What happened was a fluke, a total and utter fluke. It wasn't supposed to go down like that. If I just get out of here, put enough distance between his dust and my feet, then maybe I can forget this whole thing ever happened.
I'm already in my room, tossing clothes and weapons into a bag when I hear a loud knock on my door. I freeze mid-packing and wait. If I'm quiet enough, maybe they'll just go away. But then there's another knock, this one louder, and with a voice attached to it. Fuck. Here I thought this would be easy.
"Faith?" Giles calls out. "I know you're in there. I brought you some tea if you'd like something to drink."
Tea, fucking tea. Who does he think I am? Another watcher? I laugh bitterly and shake my head, yelling back, "Get lost, Gramps. Not in the mood to play tea party with you and Wes right now."
And then the bastard opens my door and steps inside, uninvited, with a steaming hot mug of tea gripped securely in his hands. He looks surprised to see me up on my feet already, and even moreso to see me packing. "Going somewhere?"
"Yeah," I reply, tone cold and flat. "Out of here."
Maybe he'll get the hint now. He just looks at me, concerned as fuck, and loses the mug on the Academy issues dresser that was in every potential slayer's bedroom. I ignore his stare the best I can, flinging my clothes in my duffel with little care for neatness. Just gonna get dirty anyway, so why bother? I chuck a few stakes from the chest at the end of my bed in there, just for good measure, and start pulling out my bras from the top drawer. Maybe the sight of a few wonderbras and thongs will be enough to get him out of my hair. But he stays, not even turning his head as I empty the drawer. Man, what a dirty bastard! I knew that uptight thing of his was just an act. He gets off on watching me and B train; I've seen it in the way he looks at me sometimes. Wes too, but it doesn't take much to get him blushing. Boy needs to get laid and bad.
"Do you mind?" I ask, completely irritated by his unwavering presence in the doorway. "Don't you have other slayers to panty raid?"
"Where are you going to go, Faith, at this time of night and in your condition? How will you even pay for a motel room? Or a bus ticket?"
"I'll figure something out," I reply tersely.
The bags all packed, so I zip it up and toss it on the floor. There's one outfit left lying out on the bed for me -- low slung blue jeans and simple white tank. Got my leather jacket there, too. Now I just gotta change. The shirt's long enough that when I slip the sweats off, it keeps me covered up from mid-thigh up. I slide into the jeans quickly, wincing when I feel a slight pull between my legs. Fuckin' Angelus, just had to screw me to the point of feeling like a recently popped virgin all over again. So much for it only hurting the first time.
"No one blames you for what happened," he says softly in a voice meant to soothe, but it just pisses me off more.
"Dude, if you think that's why I'm leaving, then you're blinder than I thought. Might want to check up on that prescription, Giles, because you're about a million miles away from the truth. I don't give a fuck what you, or they, or anybody thinks! You took too long, so I went after them on my own and got screwed over. That's all there is to it. If anybody's at fault here, it's all of you for not seein' that B went off the deep end sooner! I'm not even her friend and I knew she was seriously losin' it over the whole mom thing. So don't even talk to me about blame, I'm the one that got caught in the crossfire for *your* mistake."
Giles stays cool while I fly off the handle, screaming my head off and tossing the rest of my stuff around like I'm staging a remake of the Boston Tea Party. His arms cross and he stares at me in that steely British way, annoying the crap out of me for the millionth time since he walked through my door.
"Then enlighten me. Since I am far too near-sighted to see the reason for your departure, why don't you inform me of your reasons? We're all adults here, Faith. We can talk this out reasonably. If you are unhappy with the way we run things here at Garden, perhaps we can find a more agreeable assignment for you. There's evil all over the world; there's no reason why you must stay here. The Council would be happy to reassign you to another city."
Hmm, tempting offer, but I'm gonna have to pass. Who's to say this whole damn operation isn't a bust? I'm done with Academies and Watchers and Apocalypses. There's a reason I dropped out of high school, you know? I don't do good with authority. We just don't click. I do even worse in organized set ups like this. I know how to fight; I don't need all this training bullshit.
"Your precious Council is exactly why I want out!" I shoot back in a yell. "I don't need some old man telling me what to do every second of my life! I can do this gig on my own. I never asked to be taken out of Boston and brought out to some bumfuck little town like this. Your Council dragged me out here against my will! I was doin' just fine before I got shouldered with all this save the world crap. I'm leaving because I gotta take care of me, not some world that I'm supposed to give myself up to because somebody out there waved their magic wand and decided to give me a little extra something with my Wheaties one morning."
"So you have one bad night and want to throw it all away? You're going to let one bad night destroy everything you could be if you only tried? The slayer I knew wouldn't have given up so easily. Dare I say, the slayer I knew would have risen to the occasion. But I can see that she no longer exists and if that really is the case, then you are free to leave. I'm sure Kennedy will be more than happy to take over the responsibilities of the slayer once you are out of the picture."
"I'm not giving up!" I snap back. And then on second thought, I ask, "Are you threatening me now, Giles?"
But some of what he says sticks. Why the fuck am I so hung up on leaving this place? I mean, all pity parties aside, the man's got a point. When did I start caring about what that band of freaks thinks? So I got fucked by a vampire, big deal. At least I'm still here standing to tell the tale. Would've liked to be the one to stake Angelus myself, but I guess when you weigh my situation against B's, hers kinda wins out. Sucks what happened to me, but Buffy lost her fucking mom to him! If anybody deserved to stake that undead bastard, it was her. I'm still not a big fan of the buff, but I get it. He knows how to play with your head, make you feel like you're nothing; like you've got no choice but to lay there and take it while he does his worst. I get now why she fell off the deep end. Hell, I got pretty close there myself and I'm not even new to this stuff -- I've been gettin' screwed like this my entire life. Giles is right; I'm not one to back down easy.
"No," he replies quickly after my accusation. "I was simply stating that -- "
"Save it," I interrupt with a wave of my hand. "I'll stay."
"You-you'll what?"
"I'll stay," I repeat louder. God, is he deaf now too? "You won, okay? I'm not going anywhere. Not today, not tomorrow, and not next week. I still want to be a slayer; I just didn't want to deal with the rest of you. But I guess you watchers come along as part of the slayer package, huh? And the gang too, even if we never clicked that much. Willow did help me out back there."
Giles looks pleased with himself -- that smug son-of-a-bitch -- but as soon as he catches the sour expression on my face, he clears his throat and start cleaning his glasses. Is it just me, or does he just do that so he can avoid looking at us when he's embarrassed?
"Er, well, it was never about winning or losing, it was about salvaging a slayer... a very good one at that."
His head is still down as he says that, and I gotta smile despite all the drama. Then I ask it, the real question that's been on my mind all night. I figure since Gramps here was the one to clean me up and patch my wounds that he's gotta know what went down with me and Angelus. It's everybody else I'm shaky on.
"Do they know?" I ask in a quiet voice, wishing I had my own pair of glasses to clean right about now.
He gets what I mean right away and shakes his head. "No, Wesley and I have not yet spoken to the rest of the Academy about what happened with you, Buffy, Angelus, and Acathla. We thought it'd be best to wait until morning, but I would never release any information on the, er, personal affairs of last night. That is your business and yours alone, Faith. I don't even think Willow understood what went on beyond Buffy and Angelus capturing you. For all she knows, you received your injuries fighting them off."
I breathe out a sigh of relief. Good. I can deal with Mr. Ignores the Obvious knowing about it. Giles can be badass when he needs to be, but most of the time? The guy's a total wuss. He's not gonna grill me on what happened if I don't want to talk about it.
"Cool. You know, for an old guy, you're not so bad after all." I grin over at him and he manages a grin back. The moment lasts about five seconds before I start feeling a Hallmark Card moment coming on and put a stop to it before we end up hugging or something. "Now beat it," I demand playfully. "Unless you want to offer a hand."
I hold up one of the bras and the tank top I flung on the bed earlier. Giles turns a wicked shade of red and begins a quick retreat backwards. I don't get it; we've already had a couple of flings. He should be used to seeing me naked by now. Guess he's only into me when there are desks and rulers involved. Must fulfill his teacher punishes the naughty student fantasy or whatever it is that gets him going in the classroom. Man, he's even kinkier than I thought!
"I had better get going and allow you to get your rest. I have a few things I must discuss with Wesley before tomorrow's meeting."
With that, he shuts the door behind him. Funny, he practically broke down my door getting inside and now he can't wait to get out. I'm still beat from everything that happened and my bed is looking pretty sweet right about now. I'll deal with cleaning up and unpacking tomorrow; all I want to do now is cruise around dreamland for a while. I lose the jeans but keep the T-shirt finding it comfortable enough to sleep in. The mug of tea goes untouched as I huddle under my own set of blankets and drift off the second my head meets my pillow.
That's the first sound I hear when I start coming to after a long night of almost end of the world festivities. Still chained up like a damn dog, I couldn't do anything but watch when the big rumble went down. I gotta admit, I thought we were all toast for a while there. The second that big rock came to life with the swirling vortex, I saw my whole miserable life flash before my eyes. Everything from mom's drinking to the night I lost my virginity played across the movie theater in my head like a fuckin' 3-D IMAX flick.
I was ready for the grim reaper to take my hand drag me down to Hell with Buffy and Angelus when the fireworks fizzled and Angelus was dust. B ran out with her boytoy trailing after her like a trained puppy and I was left here, in the crypt, half-conscious and freezing my ass off. You think they could've at least covered me up with something thicker than a sheet, you know?
I spent the next few minutes cruising in and out of consciousness, delirious from pain and blood loss. Couldn't even feel my wrists at that point; couldn't really feel much of anything. Just cold and with this wicked ache in my bones. I knew I looked like Hell -- all pale from blood loss and bruised a pretty shade of black-and-blue. B's little prank with that headstone didn't help much with my look either. Princess is so gonna pay for that the second I get out of here and can stand on my own feet again. Girl totally played me! Made me think that she was all over the two of us being together when all she really wanted was to clock me in the head and feed me to her vampire boyfriend. Wonder how her perfect whitebread boyfriend is gonna react to that one. Bet Giles won't be too thrilled to hear about it, either. So when I hear the old man's voice, I'm fuckin' ecstatic!
"Over here, Willow, this looks like the room."
The voice is decidedly British and pompous -- a clear sign that the G-man is here to come to my rescue. I try to open my mouth to say something, but the only sound that comes out is this wicked wimpy sounding moan. If I wasn't seven shades of white right now, I'd so be blushing. I mean, here I am, tied up and naked, barely able to lift a hand or open my mouth, and my heroes come in the form of a fifty something British priss and his geeky little red-haired teacher's pet.
Man, if Wesley's here, I'm gonna hope that the hits I took in the head cause permanent brain damage and I end up taking that trip to the great beyond after all. The last thing I need is that wuss seeing me like this and lecturing me on how I should've been more careful. I know, okay? I let my guard down and I paid. Got one incredible orgasm out of it, but it didn't really beat out all the rape and torture afterwards. I'm still trying to wrap my head around that one. I played the part of a vampire's bitch for the better part of the night, I *know* I fucked up at this point. Next times I decide to run off half-cocked, I'll take back up.
"Are you sure, Mr. Giles? I mean, I don't see.... OH GOD!" I hear the brainiac squeak out. Guess that means they found me, huh? I'm so bummed out about it that I fake unconsciousness. "Is she...?"
And just as she's about to ask if I'm kibbles 'n bits, I feel Giles warm fingers press up against the pulsepoint on my neck.
"No," he answers with a hint of relief. I'm almost touched that the old man actually gives a damn beyond the head I gave him last month after class. "Her pulse is steady. A touch weak, but it's there."
There's a long silence that follows. I hear some shuffling as Giles gets back up on his feet and the sound of Red's heavy breathing. I must be pretty bad off if the chick's practically hyperventilating. Then I hear it, the sound of disbelief in her shaky tone.
"Did Buffy really do all this?" she asks... and the bitch couldn't be more naive. You'd think that after B beat her up, she'd get the clue that her bestest pal had gone bad.
No reply from Giles, but there is the clank of metal hitting metal and then my numb hands hit the ground, free from their shackles. Way to go, Giles! Pulling out the big guns to free naughty slayer Faith. Still can't feel a damn thing, but I'll take this over being tied up any day. Warm hands cover up my cold ones as they start to massage the life back into them. Aww, check that out -- I even get the tender love 'n care stuff from the guy. Maybe he really does dig me after all.
"Willow, if it's possible, do you think you could look around and see if there's some more... adequate covering for Faith?"
A pause, and then: "Oh, yeah, sure. Definitely! I'll, um, just go and check back in the bedroom. I think I saw blankets there."
The scurry of feet across cement signal Willow's exit and then it's just me and Giles. I wonder how bad I look, but don't get much time to linger when Giles starts speaking to me.
"Faith, Faith, are you alright?" He sounds wicked concerned; ends up pulling my head in his lap so his hands can move up to caress my face. I keep on faking long enough to get a, "Faith, come on, love, you're safe now. We're all here to bring you back to the Academy."
"You're late," I croak out, my eyes still squeezed shut. "Where were you six hours ago?"
I open my eyes then to shoot an accusatory look at him. Yeah, it's all good and nice that the cavalry's here for the aftermath, but where were they when Angelus had me backed up against a wall, ramming into me so hard I could see the blood streaming down my legs afterwards? Where were they when he bit down on me and practically drained me to death? With all the holes in my body, I'm surprised I'm still here to see the sun rise. I know it ain't fair to play the blame game, but I'm really not seeing the wrong in it after all I've been through.
"Yes, yes, I know... and I really am quite sorry. We all are... we just hadn't the faintest idea that Buffy and Angelus had captured you at first or that the ritual was starting so soon. By the time we realized what had happened and formulated a plan, it was, well, too late as you must be thinking right now."
"You don't have any idea what I'm thinkin' right now," I reply back gravely.
I'm too tired for this shit. I don't want apologies. All I want is to get the feeling back in my legs so I can get up, walk out of this town, and never look back. I knew this whole set up would end up being a total bust. A better life, they said -- that's what they could give me. Well, I'm really feeling that right now. You can change the scenery, hand out better food and give me a decent place to stay, but it's still all the same bullshit. You can dress it up how you want, but it doesn't change the fact that I'm curled up naked on a cold cement floor, not any better off than I was in South Boston.
"You're right," Giles gives in with a deep sigh. "I probably don't understand what you could possibly be going through right now, but I want you to know that I am here. We all are."
Blah, blah, blah. Cut the crap, Grandpa. I don't have the energy to argue, so I just close my eyes and turn away. It's the best I can do at this point. Giles sighs again and the redhead comes back with some blankets. No one says a word as Gramps covers the sheet with a big fat comforter and rolls me up in it like a human burrito. I'm fading fast by the time he hoists me up into his arms and calls out to someone about bringing the car around. If they bring me to a hospital, I'll fucking kill somebody. They're just flesh wounds, you know? Give me a hot bath, something to eat, and slayer healing will do the rest.
* * * * *
I don't wake up again until it's dark outside. I'm alone, and in a bedroom that sure as Hell ain't mine. The bed is huge, probably king-sized, and smells funny. Like tea and old books and... whiskey? Whatever. I'm just glad that I'm somewhere in the Academy and not in a fucking hospital bed somewhere. Giles must've cleaned me up and found me clothes, because when I look down at myself under the pile of blankets covering me up; I'm clean, bandaged, and covered up in somebody's old T-shirt and a pair of sweat pants. Man, whoever put these clothes on me sure as fuck doesn't know a thing about fashion. I feel like a fucking prude in this get up. Bet it was Wes; he's *always* telling me to cover up and wear something more slaying appropriate... like sweatpants. I can kick in my leathers, so I don't get what his deal is. It's not like I'm out there in platform shoes and miniskirts like B. Makes for a fun patrol when I get a peek at her panties, but I'll never get how she can run in those heels.
Something cold and angry wells up in me at just the thought of Buffy and I curse to myself, the memories of last night all coming back to hit me in a red hot fury. I have to get out of here. Out of this school, out of this town, out of this whole fucking state. I don't want to deal with this people, knowing what happened and looking at me like I'm some poor helpless victim when I'm the goddamned slayer over here! I don't need their pity. I don't need anyone's fucking pity! I just got tricked, you know? I thought we'd fuck and then fight a little and go home. I didn't expect B to have some master plan in mind when we met up in that cemetery. I didn't even think vamps were into doing... doing that. I mean, the guy wanted to end the world. Where does fucking fit into that equation? He's got his blonde bitch for that. Buffy too, if she ever dropped the prude act long enough to actually enjoy herself. What happened was a fluke, a total and utter fluke. It wasn't supposed to go down like that. If I just get out of here, put enough distance between his dust and my feet, then maybe I can forget this whole thing ever happened.
I'm already in my room, tossing clothes and weapons into a bag when I hear a loud knock on my door. I freeze mid-packing and wait. If I'm quiet enough, maybe they'll just go away. But then there's another knock, this one louder, and with a voice attached to it. Fuck. Here I thought this would be easy.
"Faith?" Giles calls out. "I know you're in there. I brought you some tea if you'd like something to drink."
Tea, fucking tea. Who does he think I am? Another watcher? I laugh bitterly and shake my head, yelling back, "Get lost, Gramps. Not in the mood to play tea party with you and Wes right now."
And then the bastard opens my door and steps inside, uninvited, with a steaming hot mug of tea gripped securely in his hands. He looks surprised to see me up on my feet already, and even moreso to see me packing. "Going somewhere?"
"Yeah," I reply, tone cold and flat. "Out of here."
Maybe he'll get the hint now. He just looks at me, concerned as fuck, and loses the mug on the Academy issues dresser that was in every potential slayer's bedroom. I ignore his stare the best I can, flinging my clothes in my duffel with little care for neatness. Just gonna get dirty anyway, so why bother? I chuck a few stakes from the chest at the end of my bed in there, just for good measure, and start pulling out my bras from the top drawer. Maybe the sight of a few wonderbras and thongs will be enough to get him out of my hair. But he stays, not even turning his head as I empty the drawer. Man, what a dirty bastard! I knew that uptight thing of his was just an act. He gets off on watching me and B train; I've seen it in the way he looks at me sometimes. Wes too, but it doesn't take much to get him blushing. Boy needs to get laid and bad.
"Do you mind?" I ask, completely irritated by his unwavering presence in the doorway. "Don't you have other slayers to panty raid?"
"Where are you going to go, Faith, at this time of night and in your condition? How will you even pay for a motel room? Or a bus ticket?"
"I'll figure something out," I reply tersely.
The bags all packed, so I zip it up and toss it on the floor. There's one outfit left lying out on the bed for me -- low slung blue jeans and simple white tank. Got my leather jacket there, too. Now I just gotta change. The shirt's long enough that when I slip the sweats off, it keeps me covered up from mid-thigh up. I slide into the jeans quickly, wincing when I feel a slight pull between my legs. Fuckin' Angelus, just had to screw me to the point of feeling like a recently popped virgin all over again. So much for it only hurting the first time.
"No one blames you for what happened," he says softly in a voice meant to soothe, but it just pisses me off more.
"Dude, if you think that's why I'm leaving, then you're blinder than I thought. Might want to check up on that prescription, Giles, because you're about a million miles away from the truth. I don't give a fuck what you, or they, or anybody thinks! You took too long, so I went after them on my own and got screwed over. That's all there is to it. If anybody's at fault here, it's all of you for not seein' that B went off the deep end sooner! I'm not even her friend and I knew she was seriously losin' it over the whole mom thing. So don't even talk to me about blame, I'm the one that got caught in the crossfire for *your* mistake."
Giles stays cool while I fly off the handle, screaming my head off and tossing the rest of my stuff around like I'm staging a remake of the Boston Tea Party. His arms cross and he stares at me in that steely British way, annoying the crap out of me for the millionth time since he walked through my door.
"Then enlighten me. Since I am far too near-sighted to see the reason for your departure, why don't you inform me of your reasons? We're all adults here, Faith. We can talk this out reasonably. If you are unhappy with the way we run things here at Garden, perhaps we can find a more agreeable assignment for you. There's evil all over the world; there's no reason why you must stay here. The Council would be happy to reassign you to another city."
Hmm, tempting offer, but I'm gonna have to pass. Who's to say this whole damn operation isn't a bust? I'm done with Academies and Watchers and Apocalypses. There's a reason I dropped out of high school, you know? I don't do good with authority. We just don't click. I do even worse in organized set ups like this. I know how to fight; I don't need all this training bullshit.
"Your precious Council is exactly why I want out!" I shoot back in a yell. "I don't need some old man telling me what to do every second of my life! I can do this gig on my own. I never asked to be taken out of Boston and brought out to some bumfuck little town like this. Your Council dragged me out here against my will! I was doin' just fine before I got shouldered with all this save the world crap. I'm leaving because I gotta take care of me, not some world that I'm supposed to give myself up to because somebody out there waved their magic wand and decided to give me a little extra something with my Wheaties one morning."
"So you have one bad night and want to throw it all away? You're going to let one bad night destroy everything you could be if you only tried? The slayer I knew wouldn't have given up so easily. Dare I say, the slayer I knew would have risen to the occasion. But I can see that she no longer exists and if that really is the case, then you are free to leave. I'm sure Kennedy will be more than happy to take over the responsibilities of the slayer once you are out of the picture."
"I'm not giving up!" I snap back. And then on second thought, I ask, "Are you threatening me now, Giles?"
But some of what he says sticks. Why the fuck am I so hung up on leaving this place? I mean, all pity parties aside, the man's got a point. When did I start caring about what that band of freaks thinks? So I got fucked by a vampire, big deal. At least I'm still here standing to tell the tale. Would've liked to be the one to stake Angelus myself, but I guess when you weigh my situation against B's, hers kinda wins out. Sucks what happened to me, but Buffy lost her fucking mom to him! If anybody deserved to stake that undead bastard, it was her. I'm still not a big fan of the buff, but I get it. He knows how to play with your head, make you feel like you're nothing; like you've got no choice but to lay there and take it while he does his worst. I get now why she fell off the deep end. Hell, I got pretty close there myself and I'm not even new to this stuff -- I've been gettin' screwed like this my entire life. Giles is right; I'm not one to back down easy.
"No," he replies quickly after my accusation. "I was simply stating that -- "
"Save it," I interrupt with a wave of my hand. "I'll stay."
"You-you'll what?"
"I'll stay," I repeat louder. God, is he deaf now too? "You won, okay? I'm not going anywhere. Not today, not tomorrow, and not next week. I still want to be a slayer; I just didn't want to deal with the rest of you. But I guess you watchers come along as part of the slayer package, huh? And the gang too, even if we never clicked that much. Willow did help me out back there."
Giles looks pleased with himself -- that smug son-of-a-bitch -- but as soon as he catches the sour expression on my face, he clears his throat and start cleaning his glasses. Is it just me, or does he just do that so he can avoid looking at us when he's embarrassed?
"Er, well, it was never about winning or losing, it was about salvaging a slayer... a very good one at that."
His head is still down as he says that, and I gotta smile despite all the drama. Then I ask it, the real question that's been on my mind all night. I figure since Gramps here was the one to clean me up and patch my wounds that he's gotta know what went down with me and Angelus. It's everybody else I'm shaky on.
"Do they know?" I ask in a quiet voice, wishing I had my own pair of glasses to clean right about now.
He gets what I mean right away and shakes his head. "No, Wesley and I have not yet spoken to the rest of the Academy about what happened with you, Buffy, Angelus, and Acathla. We thought it'd be best to wait until morning, but I would never release any information on the, er, personal affairs of last night. That is your business and yours alone, Faith. I don't even think Willow understood what went on beyond Buffy and Angelus capturing you. For all she knows, you received your injuries fighting them off."
I breathe out a sigh of relief. Good. I can deal with Mr. Ignores the Obvious knowing about it. Giles can be badass when he needs to be, but most of the time? The guy's a total wuss. He's not gonna grill me on what happened if I don't want to talk about it.
"Cool. You know, for an old guy, you're not so bad after all." I grin over at him and he manages a grin back. The moment lasts about five seconds before I start feeling a Hallmark Card moment coming on and put a stop to it before we end up hugging or something. "Now beat it," I demand playfully. "Unless you want to offer a hand."
I hold up one of the bras and the tank top I flung on the bed earlier. Giles turns a wicked shade of red and begins a quick retreat backwards. I don't get it; we've already had a couple of flings. He should be used to seeing me naked by now. Guess he's only into me when there are desks and rulers involved. Must fulfill his teacher punishes the naughty student fantasy or whatever it is that gets him going in the classroom. Man, he's even kinkier than I thought!
"I had better get going and allow you to get your rest. I have a few things I must discuss with Wesley before tomorrow's meeting."
With that, he shuts the door behind him. Funny, he practically broke down my door getting inside and now he can't wait to get out. I'm still beat from everything that happened and my bed is looking pretty sweet right about now. I'll deal with cleaning up and unpacking tomorrow; all I want to do now is cruise around dreamland for a while. I lose the jeans but keep the T-shirt finding it comfortable enough to sleep in. The mug of tea goes untouched as I huddle under my own set of blankets and drift off the second my head meets my pillow.