(Untitled)

[watcher_pryce]

Continued from HereDidn't take Faith long to join me in my room. I had to grin when she made another face when she drank from the bottle again. Really not used to the good alcohol I guess. Though, I doubt you can actually get any good stuff in jail. Especially at her age. Not sure though. Maybe when they catch me I'll have a chance to find out.

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[prodigal_slayer]

"Are you sure he wants anything from you?" I asked, when he talked about Giles. He shot me a sharp look and I only matched it with one of my own. What? I wasn't the only one who got to play royal fuck up around here. He was just as bad a mistake as a watcher as I was a slayer. No fair if he got to get off scot free while B was tryin' to toss my ass outta town. Sure, he'd never killed people but he didn't exactly have the super powers to pull that off, now did he? He still sucked as a watcher, and I was sure to never forget it. I was just a little more forgiving than Buffy. Probably because I understood while those big shiny perfect superhero types never did anything wrong. Like stabbing me in the gut. Not that I was bitter.

My eyes lit up quickly when he said he had a theory. Theory? Theories were good, theories were better than what I currently had. Which was pretty much the clothes on my back and a lit cigarette pressed between two fingers. I knew he'd think of something, he was the wicked smart one. He had a plan, he had to have a plan. Cause I just...I was totally fucking useless right now, and I think we both knew it.

What did I want? I blinked a few times at that. No one ever asked me what I wanted. They mostly just told me what to do.

"Hey Faith, get me a beer." "Hey Hanley, time for showers. Move your ass." "Hey Faith, everything you do is wrong. So fucking wrong that you can't make any decisions on your own. Ever again."

"What I want is to get rid of the fucked up ghost...things followin' me around. I'd like to not be crazy. I'd like for B to come over here right now and tell me that she was wrong and that she wants to be best girly pals again. I want Angel to swoop in and save the fucking day like he's supposed to. Also? I also wanted a puppy." Not that I was likely to get any of these things. Overall theme of my life? Faith never gets what she wants.

Shaking my head I forced my eyes up to meet his. "I don't know. I don't know what I'm supposed to do." It was always so hard. Figuring out the 'right' thing, cause deep down I still wanted to be bad. Throw on my leather pants, party and mow down whoever got in the way of my good time. It was so easy.

[watcher_pryce]

A sharp look was tossed into her direction when she asked if I was certain Giles wanted something from me. Yes, I was. I was the one who had talked to him, not she. Though, I have to admit, even if it is only to myself, that he's not told me the whole truth. Or kept things out of his story. And I have to wonder why. Perhaps because he doesn't trust me? Or Faith? Because he thinks we can't handle whatever is going around here? Now there's a thought that piss me off. We'll show him that we can handle anything he and his precious Slayer can.

Her voice rips me out of my thoughts, where I'd already was starting to come up with plans on how to show Buffy and Giles just how good enough Faith and I were. Are. I'm well aware that I'd not only be showing them. I'd be showing my former friends in Los Angeles as well of course. Not that they'd care, they made that perfectly clear haven't they? Arses. And I think the alcohol is finally starting to take effect. It's about bloody time.

Taking a nother swig, hell two, from my bottle, I look at her and non. No idea to what particular part I'm agreeing to, but I don't really care. Doesn't matter really. "A puppy?" I blink at her confused for a moment. And Angel. Angel, Angel, Angel, always Angel. "Didn't see Angel saving you from those Bringers...several times," I mutter under my breath as she moves on.

"What are you...or we, in this case, supposed to do," I echo her question. Good question isn't it? There's only one real answer to that. The right thing. Which leaves us with another question. What exactly *is* the right thing. "We do what we were supposed to do from the start," I say, rather cryptic at that. Frowning at myself, I look at the bottle, shrug and take another swig. Good stuff this.

[prodigal_slayer]

I blinked at him when he bitterly brought up the fact that Angel hadn't saved me from the Bringers. Wes had done that. Well, hell I wasn't sayin' that he didn't. Shit. Didn't mean to bring us to a touchy subject, it was just that I expected Angel to play big strapping hero and he wasn't doin' it. Just what I wanted, and he asked. Didn't mean he had to get all bitter and grumpy over it. Just cause he and Soul Boy had a little misunderstanding about kidnapping his son. Or whatever the fuck it was that had happened.

Frowning I considered what Wesley had said. Do what we were supposed to do? Which was...what exactly? Hang out in this motel room until ghosts drove me fucking out of my mind? Try and figure out what the hell was goin' on and kill it before it killed us? I had no idea. So it all begged the question. What was I gonna do now?

"Kill him." A voice echoed and I glanced up quickly in shock, looking at Angel who was standing just behind Wesley.

"What?" I demanded, widening my eyes at Angel. "Kill who?" No. Why were they always askin' me to do things like this? Always askin' me to hurt people again. I didn't want to, I went to jail so I wouldn't keep hurtin' everyone. I wanted to be better, I wanted to do the right thing.

"Kill Wesley. He stole my son. Do you remember how he turned on you, Faith? Turned you over to the Watcher's Council? He'll try and kill you if you dont' kill him first. Why do you think he slept with you?" Angel asked, crossing his arms over his chest.

"Get a little piece of slayer ass. Even you gotta understand that one." I shot back at him snidely, fully aware that I was actin' crazy again. I didn't care. What did it even matter anymore?

Angel smirked at me before shaking his head. "He's trying to pull you in, trick you. Then when you're not expecting it he'll stab you in the back. You have to kill him."

"No." I said after a minute, taking another step back towards the door.

[watcher_pryce]

With a frown, I looked at Faith and then at the bottle in my hand. Either I had a bit too much, or she was seeing things again. One moment she had been looking thoughtful, probably considering what she was supposed to be doing now. The next there was a shocked look on her face and she was staring at a spot behind me. I raised an eyebrow and craned my neck to glance behind me. Nothing. Hardly surprised.

Sighing, I reached down and pulled the covers over me. For some reason it had gotten a bit chilly in the room. And there may not be anything there, I didn't feel like exposing myself to whatever it was Faith saw now. Then again, whatever it was probably didn't care, and had seen it all already. Still, I had that urge, and saw no reason not to give into it. Faith was otherwise occupied again anyway.

I was about to take another swig from the bottle when she started shouting. "Get a little piece of...pardon?" What the hell? Who was she talking to now? Buffy? The mayor? Angel? Hell, it could be Spike for all I know. It wasn't me this time, that much was certain. "Faith, there's no one there," I sighed.

She looked conflicted and then took a step toward the door. "Walking out of this room isn't going to make them...it...go away," I said, not moving from the bed. I wasn't about to get slugged again, because she mistook me for some one else. Thank you kindly.

"Faith!" I yelled, a little louder, trying to get her attention away from whatever and back to me. "There is no one here but you, me and two bottles of whiskey."

[prodigal_slayer]

Wesley's shouting finally turned my attention sharply back to him. Stopping in my tracks I realized he did have a point. Leavin' the room wasn't gonna make 'em go away. But leavin' the room was gonna be my best bet to not slippin' over the edge and just doin' what Angel wanted me to do. Which was hurt Wesley. Fuck that. How could he ask me to do that? After all his big long winded speeches about redemption. After how he'd tried so hard to get me to try and fix the mess I'd made of my life before. I couldn't hurt anyone else. Not ever again.

"I know." I said nodding at Wes, but my eyes were still fixated on Angel who was lurking dangerously close to where Wesley was laying on the bed. "But he's right there." I pointed at Angel, watchin' Wesley glance up and right through Angel again. "He wants me to hurt you." I saw the surprised look cross Wesley's face but I didn't care if he was scared of me or not. Just thought it would be better to be honest about the whole thing.

"You wanted me to hurt Buffy. The Mayor wanted me to hurt Buffy. Buffy wanted me to hurt you. Angel...wants me to hurt you. Maybe I should just kill you and B and the voices will go away!" I yelled in Angel's direction, only receiving a growl in response from him.

"Pretty stupid idea, huh?" I asked, glancing down at Wesley. "I bet if I kill the two of you they'd just want me to go after someone else again. I'm NOT ANYONE'S LACKEY ANYMORE!" Picking up the ashtray next to me I hurled it at Angel. It went right through his form and connected solidly with the wall behind it. The sound of glass raining down to the floor was the only thing I could hear anymore.

[watcher_pryce]

Angel. Of course she's sees Angel. Always bloody Angel. And the funny thing? I'd still do anything for the git. Even after all that has happened, even after he tried to suffocate me in the hospital. I'd still disregard my live for him. What am I saying, I already had. But it irked me that she was seeing him again. Talking to him. While he's not really here. Why was it always Angel?

Sighing, I shift a little and listen to her talk. At this point I'm not certain who she's talking to. I glance up as she points out this Angel. But as expected, there's nothing there. Narrowing my eyes, I turn back to look at her. So, basically, they want me and Buffy dead. I wonder why. Buffy, I can understand. She's a thread to this...whatever. But me? Curious.

I'm about to interrupt her and...and, I've no idea what I was going to say. Not really. But I never got that far. The next thing I know there's an ashtray hurled at me, or rather behind me I suspect. Ducking, I put my hands over my head. There's she sound of breaking glass and then I can hear and feel it fall down. On the floor, and on the bed. On me.

Sitting up, I stare at the glass around me for a moment before looking back up at Faith with a raised eyebrow. "Feel better now?"

[prodigal_slayer]

"Not really." I answered Wes morosely, my eyes still locked on Angel who was glaring angrily at me. What? He wasn't real! Did he think that the death glare was gonna work on me if he couldn't really take a swing at me? Unless that was how it fought back, maybe it could like melt steel with it's noncorporeal eyeballs or something. Naw. That just sounded wicked stupid. "Don't feel better at all. Sorry." I apologized, my eyes movin' back down to Wes again.

And okay, I'd had about all of that that I could take. No more apologizing. Not to Wesley. I'd already said I'm sorry way too many times to him, and hey...I wasn't the only reason that had more than a few reasons to feel guilty.

"Just go away." I willed Angel outloud, as I took a few more steps towards the bed. "Go away! LEAVE ME ALONE!"

"Faith, when are these temper tantrums going to start getting old?" Angel asked me disapprovingly as he crossed his arms over his chest. With a sigh he shrugged. "Fine. I'll come back later." With that he disappeared, leavin' only the two of us alone together.

Sitting down on the bed I grabbed the bottle that had sorta gotten tossed to the side in all the excitement. Tilting it back, I let the dark liquid run down my throat. Swallow after swallow after swallow until there was hardly anything left and I was good and drunk. There's the key! I'll just stay so drunk all the time that I'd never hurt anyone ever again.

Seemed to work for Wesley.

[watcher_pryce]

No? Well, I could've told her that much. I've done the throwing of things often enough to know. One usually just ends up with a dent in the wall and broken things. At least it's better then a fist through the wall. In my case that is. Her would probably heal within a few sodding hours. Bloody slayer healing.

Brushing the glass out of my hair and moving the sheets to get it off there as well, I give her a blank look. Again with the apologizing. I bet she doesn't even know what she's apologizing for by now. And I hope to god there's no glass in my bed, or I'm going to have a dreadful night. Muttering under my breath, I freeze when she suddenly starts to yell again.

Slowly, I turn back toward her to see she's snagged my bottle. My. bottle. And she's gulping it down rather fast at that. Dismayed I watch as she almost drinks it all. Wonder how long and how much it takes for a Slayer to get drunk. I think I'm about to find out. "Thank you for leaving some for me," I say dryly, getting out of the bed.

Reaching for my jeans, I pull them on and glance back at the bed. There's glass in my bed and I'm not about to sleep there. Grabbing a shirt, I strap on my gun..s. Grabbing the other bottle, I take a few swigs as well before tapping her on her shoulder. "We're moving to your room. I'm not going to sleep in glass. Come on." Well, this bottle is empty. Bugger. Wonder if we can order some.

[prodigal_slayer]

"Hmmm?" I looked up, moving in slow motion and trying to understand what Wesley was sayin'. Was he pissed that I drank all his liquor? Well I already drank all of mine and that was just fine. He could be mad, cause now I was a drunk slayer and a drunk slayer was better than just bein' the waste of a slayer that everyone already thought I was. It was better than bein' the crazy slayer. Now I just felt numb, and kinda dizzy. "Wha?" I narrowed my eyes at him as he pulled on his jeans and headed for the door.

"You afraid I'm gonna hurt you again?" I asked him hazily as he strapped on his guns. Something about a scruffy man with guns strapped to him and I was all kinds of horny again. Or maybe that was the alcohol. No, not the alcohol. Everything made me horny. Why was he movin' so fast? It was time to move slow, I liked moving slow especially when I felt like this. Just numb. Numb and horny, laying back on the bed filled with glass I stared up at the ceiling for a few minutes. If Angel came back I'd find a way to hurt him, make him go away. He didn't get to tell me what to do. Didn't get to make me all crazy again. Wouldn't let him.

I realized that Wes was still movin' towards the door so I sat up suddenly with a frown. "We goin' somewheres?" My voice was slurred as I tried hard to concentrate on what we were doing. Were we doing something? Oh right, fighting ghosts even though B didn't want us to. "She's such a bitch." I muttered to myself again lazily as I fumbled in my pocket for my cigarettes and lighter.

[watcher_pryce]

Am I afraid she's going to hurt me again? I'd laugh at that if it were actually funny. There isn't much she can do which would hurt me. I'm beyond caring about any physical pain and she doesn't have the power over me to hurt me otherwise. No one does, not anymore. Those who did have it, hurt me so bad I've grown numb.

Grabbing my bag, I stare at her as she flops down on the bed. Isn't that just bloody marvelous? She's drunk. She's actually drunk. And I'm not. Well, not as drunk as I'd like to be. Considering I could still feel somewhat. Ruefully, I glance at my shoulder, shrugging it a little. Yup, I can still feel that somewhat. Not drunk enough. But she apparently is. Lovely.

"Yes, Faith. We're going somewhere." I raise my eyebrow and move put my bag on the floor for now. Then I walk over to her and give her a lopsided grin. "Let's get your drunk arse moving shall we?" Grabbing one of her arms, I hoist her up and take hold of her in a fireman's carry. Then I pick up the bag from the floor and start toward my room. "You can tell me all who's a bitch now in your room." Sighing, I open the door, slam it behind me and walk to her room, ignoring the wide eyed look some old tosser gives us as we walk by.

[prodigal_slayer]

"Hey!" I yelled when he grabbed my arm and slung me over his shoulder. "What do you think you're doing?" I asked him through a slur, glancing up through hazy eyes at the dude who was just starin' at us as we walked past. "Just cause we had sex doesn't mean you can just....carry me around." I announced as he opened the door to my room and closed it again behind us. "Even though it was wicked good. Seriously. Where'd you learn to do that?"

I was still lost in the thought as he dropped me on my bed. My head instantly fell back and I closed my eyes for a second before openin' them back up and lookin' up at Wes with the best look I could pass for sultry at the moment. "We gonna go for that other round now?" I asked him coyly as he sat down on the bed next to me. Probably not, huh? Was he all pissed at me cause I drank all his liquor? I couldn't help it, it was tasty and I wanted to get drunk. Did he have any idea how hard it was to get a slayer drunk?

"You're mad that I drank your drink..and stuff. I can get you more. Well no. I'm only twenty so you have to get yourself more." I mumbled as I closed my eyes again. This was nice, this haze. Because when I was lost in this little place in my brain the ghosts didn't come back to talk to me. Didn't wanna talk to Angel no more. He was kinda mean. Actually,they were all kinda mean. Whatever. I was a tough broad, I could take it.

"But I know where the liquor store is...it's over...there." I said, lazily pointing my finger in the direction that I thought I remembered the store being in. "There's more over there. You can get some, but you don't have to." I rambled, sitting up lazily. Where did my cigarettes go?

[watcher_pryce]

Now this? This was amusing. The way she rambled on as I carried her toward her room. Not to mention that the look on that chaps face at her words had been priceless. Opening the door with my elbow, I dropped my bag and tossed her on the bed. Oh yes, she's very, very drunk. Which, could be dangerous, but it might be amusing. Still, she drank *my* bottle. Twit.

"Where did I learn what?" I ask, sitting down on the bed next to her. Raising my eyebrow, I gave her a blank look when she asked if we were going for round two now. Well, we might have, if she weren't so drunk. She obviously doesn't know what she's doing. But perhaps this will keep her ghosts away for a bit. It's worth a try. Though, it had better not become a habit. One drunk in the none team is enough. And that would be me. Sadly.

"I think you've drank enough for the both of us. Seriously, Faith. I'm surprised you've not passed out yet." Slayer or not, she drank enough by now to knock out an elephant. Shedding my coat, I laid back on the bed, leaning on my elbows. I watched he as she sat up and looked for something. "Why don't we try to catch some sleep, Faith," I sighed, letting myself drop back on the bed and staring up at the ceiling.

[prodigal_slayer]

Couldn't find my cigarettes and it was makin' me wicked cranky. Did I leave 'em in the other room? I must've but I didn't have the energy to go back in there and get 'em. I was about to be a cigaretteless slayer for the rest of the night. That was cool though. Hell, I was used to havin' to ask for permission just to use the bathroom. Those eyeless guys had to ruin everything. Now I had to go to the bathroom all on my own. How could I get that redemption thing that Angel always talked about if I could just do everything on my own? Wasn't makin' up for shit. Just wastin' time like I always did. Least I could waste it drunk, and in good company. Well...company anyway.

"Sleep?" I groaned out not likin' that idea one bit. Sleep? Why would he wanna sleep now? Was he tired? Did I tire him out? He was only a man, not a superman like me. Well, less with the man part and more with the super...girl...woman. Whatever. I had super powers and he didn't, but right at the moment I felt the furthest thing away from supergirl, the furthest thing away from Faith. And really? Wasn't that what I was always tryin' to escape? Myself. Damn. Everywhere I go there I am, can't get rid of me. I was stuck with her...me...whatever. I didn't wanna sleep. If I slept then I'd wake up again all sober and possibly hung over and with ghosts whispering secrets to me again. I didn't want them to come back, I wanted to stay in this haze forever and ever. Except I knew I wouldn't last.

"This." I said as I sloppily rolled over so I was on top of him, straddling him halfway as I bent over. "Where'd you learn to do this?" I asked him again, grinding down on him hard. What? Drinking made me horny. Okay. To be fair everything made me horny. "Did you learn it from that lawyer bitch? Or are some people just star fuckers...?" My words were slurred and practically unintelligable as I ran my hands down the length of his naked chest. He was frowning up at me. What? Was I bein' too aggressive? That was just how I was, but I didn't wanna freak him out or nothin'. Not really all that scary right now, was I?

[watcher_pryce]

"Sleep," I echo, watching her from the corners of my eyes. And off she was into thinking land again. I wonder what drunk Slayers think about. Suspiciously, I glance around. As if I can actually see her ghost. I've never seen them before. Then again, it must be very surreal to watch oneself spout such nonsense. I'd rather not, it's hard enough to look in the mirror.

I got torn out of my own thoughts whens she rolls on top of me. I can't help but let out a small gasp as she grinds herself against me. My hand go to her hips automatically, balancing her. Normally, that's not needed, but her being drunk? Slightly off balance. More then. Perhaps I should make note of this and use it for future reference. Though, I seriously doubt she cares. She's a lot like I am now, when it come to that.

Where did I learn to do this? I frown up at her, giving her a blank look. Snorting, I let out a small chuckle. "This? That was nothing." Hell, Lilah may have taught me a thing or two, but I wasn't at all inept before her. "I guess I'm just a natural," I deadpan. Which is a lie, because no one is. Not even Faith. And isn't it funny, that a few months ago I'd be stuttering and blushing by now.

At the moment? I couldn't care less. "Why do you want to know?" Sliding my hands under her shirt, I give her a curious look. What's with the interest suddenly? Oh wait, Slayer. Right. They never taught us this at the Academy of course, but I've read the watcher diaries. Then again, this might well be a Faith thing. Again, I don't care.

[prodigal_slayer]

I couldn't help the snicker that escaped my lips when he told me he was a natural. No one was a natural. Well, maybe he was. But seriously? I tried to picture him gettin' it on the way I used to know him. Back when he was first my watcher and we just met eachother. All sniveling with those stupid glasses and the stupid disapproving look. I bet he couldn't fuck to save his life back then. No way, this musta been all Lilah. Or else someone else, hell I didn't care as long as I got to reap the benefits. His hands steadied me, resting on my hips as his other hand trailed up my shirt and over the swell of my breasts. See? Now this was what I was talkin' about.

"Jus' curious I guess." I said lazily, shrugging a little bit as my hands continued to grab and trail sloppily and greedily. He was awful pretty. How come I'd never noticed that before? Suddenly my attention shifted just as quickly as it usually did, my fingertips trailing lightly over the scar over his throat.

Suddenly his hand was gone from underneath my shirt and was clenching mine tightly. I frowned down at him. What? Was I not allowed to touch it? Did it hurt? Was he still all sensitive about it? It occured to me that I'd never been all that curious about Wesley before. Maybe it was the booze but he was kinda fascinating me at the moment.

"What?" I asked defensively, pulling my hand out of his grip.

[watcher_pryce]

Just curious. Uh hum. Wonder where the sudden curiosity is coming from. She seems very relaxed though. Don't think I've ever seen her this relaxed. But it's fake, it's coming from a bottle. Just as my quite, peaceful frame of mind used to come from a bottle. Until not even that actually worked anymore. Now, it only numbs me, if I drink enough. And I most definitely didn't drink enough now.

Her hands slide over my body greedily and ungracefully. That alone tells me how far she's gone. She's a Slayer, they're usually graceful. Not even I can deny that. But then her finger tips are on my throat, tracing the scar that. It hurts, both physically and otherwise. But I'm used to the physical aspect of pain there. It's the other kind.

My hand shoots out and curls around her wrist in a tight grip while I stare up at her. Stilling my movements, I try to force the images of a battered red head and a flashing knife out of my head. I find it gets easier every time, now if only I could do it so easily in my nightmares.

"Stop playing around," I growl, moving my hands toward her hips again. Call me odd, but touching that scar right now? Not exactly getting me in the mood. Unless one calls walking down memory lane a mood. "Why are you so fascinated with that damn scar?"