Here's the thing about birthdays, in Faith's opinion. If you grew up in a place that didn't suck, you probably dig them. You got one year older and everybody threw a party to celebrate that just like everyone else, you managed to get born. You're an inch closer to dying but screw it, they got you cake
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"Would you prefer a partner who fights back?" Punching bags can't exhaust Faith as satisfyingly as Godric can.
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"If you'd rather not share, you know I won't insist upon it." But that doesn't mean he won't ask, nor does it mean he won't stop her from hurting herself if she takes it that far. He's also not above seeking information from other sources if he believes it's important enough. And if Faith is upset, it's important enough.
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The amusement fades at that, and she sighs. "Seriously, nothing to talk about." Which is grade-A bullshit, but whatever.
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Much later that day, Godric follows his instincts to Faith. He carries a box wrapped in shining paper with a tasteful bow on top. It seems he's a cheater in more ways than one, and not above asking Angel why Faith is upset.
"Happy Birthday," he intones softly.
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"Dude, really? I'm gonna kill Angel."
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"Open your gift first. It might help." Not that he's actually encouraging Faith to go inflict bodily harm on Angel, but the high-quality set of throwing knives in the package seem to pair well with death threats.
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