October 1st, 2001 - the Magic Box
Sometimes Faith would slip out of the magic shop through the back door; sometimes Spike would. Seldom together, though Xander was pretty sure they left for the same reason. Just a guess; he’d never followed either of them, ‘til tonight.
There was just something heavy in the shop tonight, the tension and sadness that was always present at some level strong enough this evening to choke you if you took too deep a breath. If you were Spike, of course, you didn’t have to breathe, but Xander wasn’t, and he wasn’t Willow with her nose buried in a spellbook, or Giles trying not to look over Willow’s shoulder at which spellbook she had her nose buried in and failing so miserably even Xander could tell what he was doing.
It was just too much, of…whatever it was, and Xander finally couldn’t take it, told them he was leaving, got a nod and an absent murmur in reply before he pushed the door open and walked out.
The crisp, mildly cool air out back, even with Faith’s cigarette smoke drifting up towards the sky, made Xander’s lungs feel ten tons lighter as he leaned against the back door and took one long, slow breath after another. Faith didn't look over, though she gave something like a nod before taking another drag and continuing to stare out at the night, or possibly the bit of Sunnydale that was visible through the open end of the alley.
Quiet was good and calm and easy, scarily easy considering the company, and because he was Xander, that could only last for so long before some crazy urge to mess it up possessed him, and he asked before he knew what he was saying, “Whatcha looking at?”
“Your car,” Faith answered without moving or looking over at him. He’d parked around back; the rear bumper was just visible past the corner of the building facing them. “Thinking how far I could get on what I’ve got in my pocket if I hotwired it and headed off towards Vegas. Maybe Reno. Tijuana.”
“Fake ID won’t get you into Mexico; you’d need a passport,” he said, more steadily than he expected of himself.
“Pick the right border guard, these are all the passport I need,” Faith answered, stretching her arms over her head and giving a little shake of the these in question. It was kind of a halfhearted shake, though, and she brought her hands down quickly, taking another puff on her cigarette.
“Play that game often?” Xander asked. He didn’t mean bribing guards, though he wouldn’t be surprised if she took it that way, or if the answer was yes.
“Most nights.” Faith stubbed the cigarette out on the wall next to her and reached into her jeans pocket. “Beats playing What’s Willow Wishing She Could Turn Me Into Today.” She tapped another smoke from the pack and lit it.
Xander breathed again, and smiled slightly, a little amazed that it hadn’t gotten any harder to do so. “I had a friend at my old school whose Journalism teacher used to do that. Every week she’d turn him into a different animal. Or a hat, once; that was a little disturbing.”
Faith did look over at him now. “Guess I’m lucky Red’s not that strong, then.”
“I wouldn’t count on it. When I was in Fandom, Willow was training at the same school that teacher came from. If you’re not a hat, I’d say it’s because she doesn’t want you to be a hat.”
“Well, now I can sleep easy at night; thanks. 'Least til Larry starts snoring.” Faith turned her gaze back to the alleyway, and Xander’s car.
“You think you’ll do it, some night?” he asked, and again with the words moving faster than the brain. “Not that you have to tell me exactly when, but like, a vague timespan so I’d know to put aside money for a rental?”
She glanced over her shoulder at him, and he almost thought she was at a loss for an answer. “Maybe. Might.” Faith shrugged, then took a deep breath that didn’t involve the cigarette in her hand, for once. “I don’t know. Don’t *plan* to, but if I got it all laid out in my head, then…” She shrugged again.
“Then if you need it, you don’t have to think about it.” Somewhere in the back of Xander’s brain there were a couple hundred plans like that, probably burnt into place by now. Some were as old as the days when he didn’t know there was anything to run from in this town besides the people who lived in it, some as recent as the road trip he never took, that senior summer that had turned into fall in Fandom instead.
“Don’t want to need it,” she said, looking away again. “I want to be stronger than that, y’know?”
He didn’t. Couldn’t have told you what Faith Lehane Not-really-Harris thought about anything if you’d offered him a million dollars and Buffy back for a correct answer. And yet the second he heard it, he did know. Something - he couldn’t say what, but something he hadn’t known before.
“You really did turn yourself in.”
“What, B’s word not good enough for you?” She rolled her eyes at him, then took another puff. “Yeah. I wanted to…try to make things right. And I thought maybe I could do that here, but fuck if I know, now. I don’t even know if I’ll be here tomorrow, some nights.”
Xander walked over to her, though he wasn’t stupid enough to try to touch her or anything; he just leaned on the wall next to her and looked out at his car and the night beyond it. “I think you will, for what it’s worth. I don’t know; hell, you might still decide to kill me in my sleep. But I think you’ll stay.”
Faith snorted, looking down at the gravel of the alleyway. “Oh, well as long as I got your vote of approval…”
“How ‘bout my car keys?” He held them up in front of her, and was childishly pleased to see a look of true, sheer WTF on her face.
“Huh?”
“Seems like a nice night for a drive.” Xander dropped them into her hand.
Faith continued to stare at him, for at least…oh, ten seconds, before she curled her fingers around them and headed for the end of the alley.
Xander followed her. “Put out the cigarette; no smoking, no drinking, no onion blossoms unless you’re parked because it just doesn’t work, trust me I speak from experience, and oh yeah, you get pulled over we switch seats, because that ID probably won’t stand up to a DMV check either.”
Faith turned around after pulling the key from the driver’s side door. “You’re coming with me.”
“I think you’ll stay; doesn’t mean I’m stupid.” Xander opened the door for her, then walked around to the passenger side. “And it does seem like a good night for a drive.”
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[Not for RP, since I realize that wasn't clear; OOC quite welcome.]
There was just something heavy in the shop tonight, the tension and sadness that was always present at some level strong enough this evening to choke you if you took too deep a breath. If you were Spike, of course, you didn’t have to breathe, but Xander wasn’t, and he wasn’t Willow with her nose buried in a spellbook, or Giles trying not to look over Willow’s shoulder at which spellbook she had her nose buried in and failing so miserably even Xander could tell what he was doing.
It was just too much, of…whatever it was, and Xander finally couldn’t take it, told them he was leaving, got a nod and an absent murmur in reply before he pushed the door open and walked out.
The crisp, mildly cool air out back, even with Faith’s cigarette smoke drifting up towards the sky, made Xander’s lungs feel ten tons lighter as he leaned against the back door and took one long, slow breath after another. Faith didn't look over, though she gave something like a nod before taking another drag and continuing to stare out at the night, or possibly the bit of Sunnydale that was visible through the open end of the alley.
Quiet was good and calm and easy, scarily easy considering the company, and because he was Xander, that could only last for so long before some crazy urge to mess it up possessed him, and he asked before he knew what he was saying, “Whatcha looking at?”
“Your car,” Faith answered without moving or looking over at him. He’d parked around back; the rear bumper was just visible past the corner of the building facing them. “Thinking how far I could get on what I’ve got in my pocket if I hotwired it and headed off towards Vegas. Maybe Reno. Tijuana.”
“Fake ID won’t get you into Mexico; you’d need a passport,” he said, more steadily than he expected of himself.
“Pick the right border guard, these are all the passport I need,” Faith answered, stretching her arms over her head and giving a little shake of the these in question. It was kind of a halfhearted shake, though, and she brought her hands down quickly, taking another puff on her cigarette.
“Play that game often?” Xander asked. He didn’t mean bribing guards, though he wouldn’t be surprised if she took it that way, or if the answer was yes.
“Most nights.” Faith stubbed the cigarette out on the wall next to her and reached into her jeans pocket. “Beats playing What’s Willow Wishing She Could Turn Me Into Today.” She tapped another smoke from the pack and lit it.
Xander breathed again, and smiled slightly, a little amazed that it hadn’t gotten any harder to do so. “I had a friend at my old school whose Journalism teacher used to do that. Every week she’d turn him into a different animal. Or a hat, once; that was a little disturbing.”
Faith did look over at him now. “Guess I’m lucky Red’s not that strong, then.”
“I wouldn’t count on it. When I was in Fandom, Willow was training at the same school that teacher came from. If you’re not a hat, I’d say it’s because she doesn’t want you to be a hat.”
“Well, now I can sleep easy at night; thanks. 'Least til Larry starts snoring.” Faith turned her gaze back to the alleyway, and Xander’s car.
“You think you’ll do it, some night?” he asked, and again with the words moving faster than the brain. “Not that you have to tell me exactly when, but like, a vague timespan so I’d know to put aside money for a rental?”
She glanced over her shoulder at him, and he almost thought she was at a loss for an answer. “Maybe. Might.” Faith shrugged, then took a deep breath that didn’t involve the cigarette in her hand, for once. “I don’t know. Don’t *plan* to, but if I got it all laid out in my head, then…” She shrugged again.
“Then if you need it, you don’t have to think about it.” Somewhere in the back of Xander’s brain there were a couple hundred plans like that, probably burnt into place by now. Some were as old as the days when he didn’t know there was anything to run from in this town besides the people who lived in it, some as recent as the road trip he never took, that senior summer that had turned into fall in Fandom instead.
“Don’t want to need it,” she said, looking away again. “I want to be stronger than that, y’know?”
He didn’t. Couldn’t have told you what Faith Lehane Not-really-Harris thought about anything if you’d offered him a million dollars and Buffy back for a correct answer. And yet the second he heard it, he did know. Something - he couldn’t say what, but something he hadn’t known before.
“You really did turn yourself in.”
“What, B’s word not good enough for you?” She rolled her eyes at him, then took another puff. “Yeah. I wanted to…try to make things right. And I thought maybe I could do that here, but fuck if I know, now. I don’t even know if I’ll be here tomorrow, some nights.”
Xander walked over to her, though he wasn’t stupid enough to try to touch her or anything; he just leaned on the wall next to her and looked out at his car and the night beyond it. “I think you will, for what it’s worth. I don’t know; hell, you might still decide to kill me in my sleep. But I think you’ll stay.”
Faith snorted, looking down at the gravel of the alleyway. “Oh, well as long as I got your vote of approval…”
“How ‘bout my car keys?” He held them up in front of her, and was childishly pleased to see a look of true, sheer WTF on her face.
“Huh?”
“Seems like a nice night for a drive.” Xander dropped them into her hand.
Faith continued to stare at him, for at least…oh, ten seconds, before she curled her fingers around them and headed for the end of the alley.
Xander followed her. “Put out the cigarette; no smoking, no drinking, no onion blossoms unless you’re parked because it just doesn’t work, trust me I speak from experience, and oh yeah, you get pulled over we switch seats, because that ID probably won’t stand up to a DMV check either.”
Faith turned around after pulling the key from the driver’s side door. “You’re coming with me.”
“I think you’ll stay; doesn’t mean I’m stupid.” Xander opened the door for her, then walked around to the passenger side. “And it does seem like a good night for a drive.”
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[Not for RP, since I realize that wasn't clear; OOC quite welcome.]