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I'm not sure when I started this damn fic. lol. It's a long abandoned Faith and Cordelia romance fic that had the concept of them falling for each other while Faith while still in prison. Hence the title. I got pretty far with it before I stopped writing for whatever reason. Far enough that I have to split this up into two posts.
Kind of a shame.
TITLE: Nor Iron Bars
AUTHOR: Dreiser
EMAIL: dreise7@yahoo.com
YAHOO IM: dreiser7
MY WEBSITE: http://www.dreiser.net/
CORDELIA & FAITH ML: http://groups.yahoo.com/group/cordyhasfaith/
CONTENT: F/F romance. The stars are Faith/Cordelia. Don't like it, don't like them, please don't read the fic.
SUMMARY: Faith is in prison and one day Cordelia is forced into visiting her.
DISCLAIMER: I own nothing but my boots, which are made for walkin' and that's just what they do but don't worry, I'm sure they won't walk all over you.
Nor Iron Bars
By: Dreiser
Part One...
Clank, clank, clank.
That was the sound of the Officer Sally's baton as it hit the bars. The sound sometimes reminded Faith of an aimless tune from some musical she couldn't recall.
Clang, clang, clang, went the trolley. Ring, ring, ring, went the bell... she didn't know the other lyrics.
Every time Officer Sally went on her usual head count for lights out, her baton hitting the bars of their cells as she did, that song came into Faith's head.
Incomplete lyrics and all.
Sometimes Faith contemplated changing the lyrics to something more fitting to her situation. She could make them something like: Clank, clank, clank, went the baton on the bars. Bring, bring, bring, went the prison alarms.
That was regular Broadway material, right?
"Psssst. Slayer, you alive up there?"
Five seconds. A new world record. Out of boredom, Faith now timed how long it took her cellmate to bother her after Officer Sally went past. Tonight it had taken five seconds.
"No, I'm dead and doing an impression of a live person, Rabbit," said Faith lowly. She then covered her eyes with her arm and tried her level best to block out the unnatural quiet of lights out.
That was the one thing she missed the most. The noise of the outside world, that soft unending babble of sounds that came from living in a city or just a populated area. Faith had grown up in South Boston and she was used to those sounds, so used to them that they were now a comfort to her. Plus when there was noise, when there were sounds, that meant people were around.
And that meant she wasn't alone.
The problem was, as loud as the prison was during the day, with the shouts of the women and the unending fights, that all changed with lights out. Everyone in her block was relatively well behaved and that meant not a peep at night. Which left Faith very unnerved, lying in the darkness and listening to the silence that surrounded her.
"Funny," Rabbit drawled coyly and Faith heaved a sigh as she felt the other girl move out of her bunk to rest her upper body on the top of Faith's. "Talk with me, I can't sleep. Or do something else with me, hmm?"
Faith moved her arm slightly and caught Rabbit's green eyes with her own and scowled. The other girl's name was really Jessica Judith Jamison. Why in the hell her parents named her that, Faith had no idea. As utterly ridiculous as it sounded, that really was her name. But thanks to her eye catching curves and bright red hair, she was called Jessica Rabbit or just Rabbit for short. Her name also probably had to due with the fact that Jessica had the sex drive of a rabbit too.
"I told you," Faith growled somewhat menacingly, but not much, because she actually did happen to like Rabbit when the girl wasn't trying to get into her pants. "I'm off the market. Everyone knows that."
"Disappointment, hurt, sigh," Rabbit said, her voice oozing of drama as she rested her chin on Faith's bed. Moving down to her own bunk, she continued, "Why do you do this to me, Slayer? You know that I lust for you."
"Right," snorted Faith, turning over on her side and making a vain attempt to fluff up her too flat prison pillow. "Just go to bed already, will you?"
"But you're my hero," Rabbit continued on, ignoring Faith's warning. "You saved me from Box and her mutants when I first arrived." Rabbit paused to sniff and said, "As if I'd do anything with them. People think that just because I got paid for it on the outside I'll do it with anyone. I was a call girl. CALL girl. That has some meaning, you know. It means class! And anyway, for what I'm in here for you'd think they'd--"
"Rabbit!! Shut the hell up!"
Wincing now, Rabbit called, "Sorry, Officer Sally! I'll go to bed now, I swear it!"
"Don't swear anything! Go to bed!"
"Should've shut up when you had the chance," Faith said wisely. "Now you're gonna have extra duties."
"You should sleep with me," responded Rabbit sullenly, she disliked letting anyone but her to have the last word. "Everyone is calling you something new." She paused to give a little giggle then said, "Slayer: Warrior Nun."
There was a moment of silence before Faith groaned deeply then muttered darkly, "I'm gonna kill 'em."
"Who?" asked Rabbit curiously. "Everyone?"
"Yeah, everyone, the whole damn prison, starting with you, nosy rodent," Faith whispered dangerously, but a hint of humor rang through.
"Well, you DO work in the library," Rabbit giggled. "How cliche is that, Slayer? You're a prude librarian. Sitting all alone, just reading your books, avoiding human contact."
Instead of replying, Faith heaved yet another sigh and turned over on her side, attempting to get some sleep in spite of the overwhelming quiet of the prison.
Taking her cue, Rabbit fell silent and soon faded off into an easy slumber. This left Faith awake alone, listening to the quiet and the barest hint of Rabbit's soft snores in their cell.
Staring at the ceiling of the cell, Faith wondered what she wondered every night. How did it ever get this far? How did she end up here? And how would she fix it?
Closing her eyes, Faith lost herself to her thoughts until finally, sick of the quiet, she sang softly, "Clank, clank, clank, went the baton on the bars. Bring, bring, bring went the prison alarms..."
Suddenly, she didn't feel quite so alone anymore. But she did feel a hell of a lot more dorky. Ah well, you can't have everything.
---
It wasn't always good to improve yourself, you know. Cordelia was realizing this more and more. Especially when she found herself in situations like this. Where that cursed improvement of her generalized outlook on life was screwing her over and screwing her over royally at that. So with a sigh, Cordelia looked Angel in his big puppy dog eyes he was doing his best at exploiting and switched back into her traditional bitch role.
For her it was sort of like putting on a pair of stylish yet old high heels. The role fit her like a glove, looked good on her, and it was damn comfortable as well. Too bad Angel knew very well that wasn't Cordelia anymore.
Hence her not getting very far with her transformation into ultra bitch. Even if it did disconcert Fred, who was watching them with curious brown eyes as she perched on Cordelia's desk, frowning and trying to follow their conversation.
"Who's Faith?" asked Fred, tilting her head to one side inquisitively.
"You don't need to know, Fred," reassured Cordelia, glaring at Angel for simply bringing up the subject around Fred. The last thing she really wanted to do was explain about the second Slayer when explaining the first was such a huge trial in itself. "All you need to know about Faith is that there's no way in hell I'm visiting her."
"Cordy," Angel said with a sigh, his eyes pleading. "Stop. Don't be like this."
"I'll stop when you stop asking me to do incredibly stupid things," retorted Cordelia.
Angel sighed yet again then said, "You know I wouldn't ask you--"
"You can ask me," said Fred in chipper tones.
At this, Angel and Cordelia looked Fred's way and Cordelia immediately focused her gaze on Angel and growled, "Don't you dare."
"I wasn't!" Angel said haplessly, holding up his hands, although it appeared as if some part of him might have been considering the option, strange as it was.
"And don't ask me again," enforced Cordelia, folding her arms over her chest and leveling Angel with a harsh gaze, "just don't."
"I thought you wanted me to take this case seriously," said Angel and Cordelia frowned, realizing he was now working the practical angle on her. Obviously the emotional aspect wasn't doing it so he moved his focus onto the essential factor in life… money. "You do keep telling me how important this client is. How can I take the case seriously if I have to turn my attention away from it for almost two hours to visit Faith in prison and give her some new books? And I'm supposed to be protecting her too," he shook his head sadly, "not very professional if you ask me."
"Well, here's an idea, dense boy, don't visit Faith at all," Cordelia replied bitingly.
Angel's brow furrowed and he looked off to one side, instantly shifting into his usual brooding state as he murmured, "I can't do that to her." Looking back at Cordelia, he went on, "She trusts me, Cordy, and she doesn't trust many. I always go to see her, each and every week. If I didn't come, she would think something was wrong. Like what happened with…" He trailed off, wincing as he thought of the two women who had been most important to him at one time and the influence they still had over his life. Influence enough to make him forget Faith. Exactly like all of the people before him had done. He couldn't do that again, he simply couldn't. "Please, Cordy," he finished quietly, looking at her with earnest eyes. "Just this once."
Self improvement really was a bitch, Cordelia decided. Meeting his gaze and heaving a huge sigh, Cordelia looked off to one side and said shortly, "Fine." Sensing the wave of happiness, or as much happiness as Angel allowed himself, Cordelia looked back at him and cut him off with a glare. "You owe me though."
"Owe you?" asked Angel warily, stopping in his walk towards Cordelia.
"Yes, owe me," Cordelia now looked very pleased with herself. Quite like the cat who has eaten the canary and the canary was covered in yummy chocolate sauce. Angel didn't like that expression in the least. In fact, it rather frightened him. "I want you to sink every last penny from this case, with the exception of employee salaries of course, into stocks and bonds… intelligent ones, not crazy trendy ones, but the type that will last and just maybe bring in some actual cash for us one day. I want you," Cordelia emphasized as she grinned widely and strutted forward to poke Angel in the chest, "to think about the future for all of us. Unlike you, we'll need to be taken care of in our old age, you know. If we even manage to make it there in the first place."
"You want me to start a retirement fund?" asked Angel a bit incredulously.
"I want you to put our money in the right places," said Cordelia smartly, folding her arms across her chest and looking utterly smug. "Call it my service fee for visiting Faith."
"Service fee… that sounds a little dirty," Fred giggled, speaking up after an unusually long bout of silence. Most likely she had been watching them and analyzing the entire conversation to try and discern whom Faith was.
Which was why the only response Fred got to her comment was Cordelia and Angel looking her way and both of them deciding it was definitely best that Fred didn't visit Faith. There really was no way of telling how their two personalities would mesh. Or if it would be anything good for the people around them.
---
"You always read that book, why is that?"
Looking up, Faith met the eyes of her supervisor and fellow inmate, Rachel Kendricks, known around the prison simply as Ken. She was a lifer… a woman many said had gone over the edge, snapped, and because of it killed her entire family. Ken was in her late fifties, her short cropped hair graying, and deep blue eyes dark with knowledge. Faith found in her a compatriot of sorts. Ken knew what it was to see the darkness and in turn, become the darkness, and what that led to. More than that, Ken understood Faith and her longing for change, to become more than what she was.
To hope someday, somehow, for some level of forgiveness for the insanity that had become her and her life. The same insanity that was her mother's life, the one she had always sworn she'd never fall into. Look at her now though. She had become her mother and everything worse. Still, it hadn't always been this way. There was a brief period when things were good, when she was truly happy.
They had taken away her precious mementos of that time, the bracelet and the picture. But she had her memories and she had this book. Closing it gently, even though it was not the original copy she first saw the poem in, this book was just as important to her.
"Because," said Faith, staring at the cover of the book, "it reminds me of happier times and of someone who really cared about me, y'know?"
"Huh," Ken said as she studied Faith closely. Shrugging, she sat down next to Faith at the small table and continued skeptically, "If you say so, Slayer. Personally I don't think Poe is the type of author most people would read to cheer up."
"Yeah, well, I'm not most people," replied Faith, meeting Ken's gaze and smirking slightly. "I figured that you'd know that by now."
"You would think," Ken said wryly, giving Faith a grin of her own.
She leaned back in her chair and studied the empty library. It was just about time for lunch and that was the dead time of day. Most inmates were working out in the yard or they were in the communal area, watching some television. Very few besides Ken and Faith spent time in the library. Well, Ken had to form another grin as she thought of it, there were the people that the Slayer had saved from Box and the other gang members. They showed up here more times than not simply to stare at Faith with something akin to awe. Ken found it all too amusing but Faith was bothered by it. She wasn't someone to admire. No one was in this place, in her opinion.
"So," said Ken, keeping up her study of her young companion. "How are your classes going? You fix that problem you were having in math?" Ken shook her head and sighed. "I never liked that subject much myself. English was more my area of expertise." With a chuckle, Ken waved her hand expansively around the tiny library. "Which is probably why I ended up in here, don't you think?"
"Yeah, I fixed it," said Faith. "Phillips helped me, y'know. He's a good teacher."
"Uh hmm," said Ken thoughtfully, her blue eyes knowing.
Looking over at Ken and scowling on hearing the tone in her voice, Faith demanded, "What? I know you're thinkin' something twisted, Ken, so you better just spill it."
"Nothing," said Ken innocently. When Faith continued to bore her gaze into her, she heaved a sigh and shook her head. "Fine, but don’t act like you didn't ask me for this, Slayer." Leaning closer, she met Faith's eyes on the level and stated, "The man's only playing goody goody because wants to sleep with you."
"And?" asked Faith in an extremely droll voice.
"And what? That isn't enough?" asked Ken a bit incredulously. She narrowed her eyes and said, "You mean to tell me you knew that this whole time?"
"Yeah," Faith admitted with a shrug. "He wants me, big fuckin' whoop. So does half of this prison. I'm someone people want to lay, that's no goddamn secret." She looked back down at her book and her face darkened as she lightly touched its worn cover. "But I'm not about that anymore so it's not something I'm gonna worry about."
"Even if he tries something," said Ken, sounding altogether ominous. It wasn't like she wanted to bring this up but things had been known to happen in this place.
"He won't try jack," said Faith plainly, meeting Ken's eyes. "Phillips knows not to, just like everyone else who gets in this place knows not to."
"Ah, how could I forget?" Ken chuckled as she leaned back in her chair. "Your new nickname… Rabbit told me. Slayer: Warrior Nun."
For a response, Faith rolled her eyes before she focused back on the book. Lightly tracing the title with her fingertips. Wishing with everything that was in her that she could just turn back time and fix all her mistakes so she wouldn't end up here.
Only, she knew very well there was no way she could.
---
She really didn't want to be here.
Why did she let Angel talk her into this? I mean, did they really need a retirement fund? They had a risky enough business and an even riskier lifestyle. There was definitely an overwhelming chance she wouldn't live long enough to retire so who even cared if they money put away in the bank or not?
Cordelia realized during times like these that still having a modicum of hope for happiness in the future really didn't do her any good. Not when it got her into situations like this. Once again, she stared at the books in her hand. What in the world was Angel doing giving Faith stuff like this? She could understand maybe sending her a few comic books but Charles Dickens, Great Expectations and A Tale of Two Cities? Wasn't he a far too difficult author being as there were no pictures in his stories?
Oh well, it really wasn't her place to decide. She was just here to deliver the books, explain the situation to psycho Slayer, and then hightail it out of the prison before said psycho Slayer tried to break out of her prison home. Sighing yet again, Cordelia looked at the guard and said, "I'm here to visit Faith Spencer."
That was another thing. It was odd to know Faith's last name. Somehow none of them had never found that out in Sunnydale. Then again, had any of them even asked? Most likely the answer to that would be no but still, it was odd… Faith with a last name.
"Seeing the Slayer, huh," said the guard who looked at her evenly.
"What?" Cordelia squeaked and halfway sputtered. They knew what Faith was here? Besides the psychotic killer part? "How do you--"
"Spencer, sorry," the guard said with a lopsided little grin. She shook her head and murmured, "I forget sometimes that you all don't know them by the same names we do. I meant to say you're here to see Spencer, right?"
"You mean Faith?" asked Cordelia hesitantly, unsure what was going on.
"Yeah, Faith Spencer," said the guard, looking at Cordelia as if she was a candidate for extensive brain surgery. "I'm Sally, one of guards in her block. She's one of the good ones in there, you know. We're surprised she doesn't get many visitors. Just tall, dark, and handsome, and now you."
"I'm only visiting her because he couldn't make it," said Cordelia quickly. The last thing she wanted was this woman to think she actually was Faith's friend or something.
"Oh," Sally's expression dropped and she narrowed her eyes a bit. "I see." She was quiet for a moment then shrugged her shoulders. "Anyway, let's get you in there, huh? I gotta say she was surprised… he always comes in on Fridays." Holding her hands out, she went on, "I'll take those. They're from him too, I'm guessing?"
"Yes, they are," said Cordelia coolly, not liking at all how this guard was treating her. The woman was acting as if Cordelia was the bad guy for not wanting to visit Faith. It had to be some sort of adverse reaction from being around prisoners so much. Losing all ability to see actual good people when around them. "Apparently, she likes to read."
"Ought to, working in the library," Sally said as she lightly moved around Cordelia and led her into a room already filled with visitors talking with prisoners through a telephone system that separated them by a thick plastic pane. Both women moved their eyes to lock on Faith, looking almost anxious as she sat there. When dark brown eyes locked onto Cordelia they widened in surprise and it seemed as if the anxiety increased. "There she is," murmured Sally and Cordelia looked back at her, "she doesn't look like she used to, does she? Most don't… after being in here for awhile."
Cordelia slowly walked forward, meeting Faith’s huge brown eyes with her own. Sitting down, she met the Slayer's gaze and frowned as she saw the guilt in her expression. She hadn't been expecting this at all. Somehow she had thought Faith would remain the same… that her confidence would be there, her self assurance and sexual overtones that always bothered Cordelia to no end, and her jaunty smirk.
They were gone though and in their place was an expression of fear and guilt. What was she afraid of though? It wasn't like Cordelia had the power to hurt Faith. She doubted it was even in her ability to do so. Picking up the phone, she tapped on the glass, startling Faith out of her reverie enough to follow Cordelia's suit.
"Queen C," said Faith in very uncertain tones. "What are you doin' here?"
"Angel sent me," replied Cordelia succinctly, "he wanted to let you know that he can't make it into see you this week. He's dealing with an important case but he didn't want you to think he forgot about you, hence him begging me to show up for him."
"Oh," Faith said quietly, ducking her gaze. She coughed and looked away from Cordelia and either at the wall or a fellow inmate as she continued, "So that's why."
"Yes, that's why," said Cordelia as her eyes narrowed. "Why else would I be here?"
"No reason," Faith mumbled, keeping her gaze far from the Seer. "I just… I dunno." Looking back at Cordelia, she swallowed the lump in her throat and murmured, "Since you're here, I wanna tell you I'm--"
"You're sorry, yeah, I know," said Cordelia coolly. "But what are you sorry for? Trying to kill Angel? Torturing Wesley? Assaulting me? Or just all of the above?"
"Yeah, all of the above," said Faith, her voice still quiet, calmly meeting Cordelia's gaze. "I get that you don't wanna forgive me Queen C, I did a lot wrong…"
"A lot? A lot is putting it mildly, Faith! You did everything wrong," said Cordelia. She sighed deeply and looked away from the dark Slayer. "Look, I don't have time to go into this with you. I don't even want to go into this with you. All I was supposed to do was show up, tell you Angel's not coming, and deliver those books for you."
"Books?" asked Faith hopefully, her expression lighting up immediately.
"Yes, books," said Cordelia, eyeing Faith strangely. "He sent you some stuff by that guy who wrote A Christmas Carol." Recalling what the guard had said to her, Cordelia let her ever present curiosity get the best of her and asked, "You really work in the library?"
"Yeah," said Faith and she almost, just almost, appeared to flush at this. Cordelia blinked and observed this in certain amazement. Was Faith actually embarrassed? Faith? The girl who talked nonstop about sex was embarrassed over something like working in a library? Okay… it was official, the world no longer made sense. Focusing back on the Slayer, she listened to the girl speak absently, almost to herself as she murmured, "When I first got in all I did was work out, y'know? Spent all my time in the yard but after awhile it got borin', so I ended up in the library. The chick who runs it is pretty cool and she hooked me up with some wicked books. I told Angel and ever since he's been bringing me stuff he thinks I'd like to read." Faith looked back at Cordelia, forming an absent grin and shrugged. "After that I spent most of my time either workin' out, seeing the shrink, or in the library readin'. Got a job there and it's workin' out."
"Sounds like," Cordelia replied, feeling altogether baffled over Faith's attitude.
Of course, Cordelia still didn't trust her but it did seem as if Faith had gone through some changes. The Faith that she knew didn't like to read. Then again… had she ever really known Faith? Had any of them? Maybe Buffy, but not very much. Was that why she did what she did? Because they weren't there for her and the Mayor was?
Watching the emotions pass over Cordelia's features, Faith frowned then said in soft tones that were also rough, "You want to know, don't ya?"
"What?" Cordelia blinked, honestly lost as to where this was going.
"Why I did it… everythin' back there in Sunny D, you wanna know why," supplied Faith quietly as she watched Cordelia with knowing eyes that were lidded. "Dontcha?"
"Yeah," admitted Cordelia slowly, "I guess I do."
Brown eyes darkened into black and Faith said, "Do you wanna hear it straight, Queen C? Or do you just wanna hear what you'd like best?"
"Give me the real reason behind it all," said Cordelia shortly. "No playing the blame game, no excuses for your actions, none of that. Just the real reason."
A seemingly endless moment of silence passed then a guard approached Faith, lightly touching her shoulder and Faith looked up at her, nodding at whatever she said. Turning her gaze back to Cordelia, her brown eyes mixed with more emotions than Cordelia could make out much less fathom, Faith murmured, "I wanted to be loved."
Then she hung up the phone, quietly allowing the guard to lead her away as Cordelia stared at her with wide eyes. That had been the last thing she could've expected to pass from the Slayer's lips and yet, somehow, it was also the one thing that made the most amount of sense. And that scared Cordelia somehow.
The idea of needing love that much could cause someone to do what Faith had done. But she understood it, she could even relate to it. Which scared her even more as she numbly rose to her feet and prepared to leave the prison.
Cordelia wasn't sure what she thought visiting Faith would be like but she didn't think it would be like this. Nor did she ever think that when it was all over and done with a small part of her would be wanting to come back.
---
After ten minutes, Cordelia finally decided that she couldn't take it anymore and turned to face Angel, arching an eyebrow as she said dryly, "Yes?"
For a response, Angel blinked then formed a guilty expression. "I was wondering how things went today," he explained, nearing her desk, "you know, with Faith."
"Ah, Faith, as if I could possibly forget," Cordelia rolled her eyes then turned back to her computer to continue surfing the internet. "It went exactly like I thought it would… namely it went very badly."
"Really?" asked Angel cautiously, frowning as he studied Cordelia.
"No, I guess not," said Cordelia, shaking her head. She sighed and looked up at him with a frank expression. "I didn't talk to her enough for it to go badly. I went there, told her you couldn't visit her this week, explained why, and left. There wasn't much to it."
"You gave her the books?" Angel asked hopefully.
"No," said Cordelia, glaring slightly at him, "I gave the guard the books."
"Oh, Sally, good," said Angel happily as he smiled widely. Leaning against the front counter, his eyes darkened as he watched Cordelia at her computer. She was way too tense… as if she was worried about something. "Cordelia?" he said softly. When she faced him again, Angel continued, "What happened?"
She stared at him for a long moment before lowering her gaze. Turning around, she rested her head on the back of her chair and stared up at the ceiling. "It was strange to see her again, that's all," murmured Cordelia. "She didn't look the same."
"No, she doesn't," agreed Angel with a quiet solemnity. "Faith has changed, Cordelia, and for the better. She's doing her best to make amends for her past, just like I am."
"Faith isn't like you Angel," said Cordelia, clenching her jaw. "At least when you went all crazy and murder spree inducing you had a reason. You were a soulless evil vampire. It's not like that for Faith. She's human, just like me, and she killed people, ruined their lives, without even a second thought."
"People are capable of as much good as they are evil," said Angel wisely, walking out of the foyer to the Hyperion so he could go check on their client upstairs. "Faith included."
Watching him go for a moment, Cordelia narrowed her eyes and muttered to herself, "I wonder if it's being old that makes him act like such a know it all or it's just a part of his really annoying personality."
"The latter I would think."
Jumping slightly in the air, Cordelia whirled around to see Wesley leaning on the doorframe to his office, smiling knowingly at her. "Don't do that!" Cordelia said huffily as she faced her computer screen once more. "You scared me half to death."
"Sorry," said Wesley, not sounding the least bit apologetic. Moving out of his office, he sat on the edge of Cordelia's desk, peering thoughtfully at her. "You visited Faith?"
"Angel asked me to," replied Cordelia softly now, not wanting to look into his eyes, fearing she'd see the same haunted expression Wesley always wore whenever Faith was brought up. "He wanted me to explain why he couldn't see her this week."
"I see," Wesley murmured after a moment. He averted his eyes from Cordelia, sensing somehow that his gaze was making her uneasy. Focusing across the length of the foyer, he went on, "How did she seem?"
Freezing in midmotion, Cordelia's fingers hovered above the computer keyboard. Quietly, she lowered them against the desk and gripped it as she said, "She's different. I didn't want her to be, Wesley. I wanted to go in there and hate her for everything she's done but I couldn't… I looked in her eyes and I saw…" Cordelia stared at her fingers, watching them pale as she continued to grip the desk's edge tighter. "I saw someone else. Not the same person we're used to dealing with, the person I was prepared to hate. It was strange and… I don't know what to think anymore."
"You want to see her again," stated Wesley. She looked up into his eyes and he smiled at her, trying his best to look reassuring. "It's all right," he said, "I think I can understand why you would. Just… be careful, won't you? People sometimes appear to change but that's not always how it truly is."
"Do you forgive her?" Cordelia asked suddenly, facing him. She did wonder if he had forgiven her and that's why he was being so calm when they were discussing what was always a volatile subject for them both. "For what she did?"
Closing his eyes, Wesley tried to block the images of that night from arising in his mind once more. As he clenched his right hand into a fist, he said evenly, "I wouldn't say I've forgiven her so much as I perhaps have an inkling of why she did it. I wasn't the best Watcher, not by any means, and she thought at the time I was to blame for a great deal of why her life turned out so badly. I haven’t any idea if she still feels this way. Perhaps she doesn't… if she's changed as you've said."
"But do you forgive her?" pressed Cordelia softly, not knowing why she needed to hear the answer so much. She wasn't sure why but she just had to know.
"Not yet," said Wesley finally. Unclenching his hand, he stretched his fingers out and over the side of the desk and continued, "One day I will." Looking at her steadily, he said, "When you see her, you can tell her that if you wish."
"Who says I'm going to see her again?" asked Cordelia, bristling at the idea. She didn't want to see Faith again. Just the suggestion was ridiculous. Okay, she was curious about the changes she had seen but that didn't mean she wanted to see her again.
"Cordelia," said Wesley in almost stern tones, regarding her closely, a curly lock of hair falling into his eyes as he met her gaze. "We're friends, you and I, we shouldn't attempt to hide things from one another, should we?"
Narrowing her eyes at him, Cordelia pronounced, "You're way too attentive. Why can't you be more clueless, like Angel? It would really do me some good."
"Sorry, I'm afraid I possess a pair of sharp eyes and ears," murmured Wesley with a laugh, standing up and walking into his office. "You will think on what I've said, won't you? I don't want you to be hurt by her, Cordelia."
Instead of responding, Cordelia's shoulders slumped and she stared at her hands that lightly rested on the top of her desk. "Again," she whispered to the empty air, adding the missing word to Wesley's warning.
---
Something was going on. Faith knew it as she observed Box and her mutants from the length of the cafeteria. It was lunchtime and she sat in her usual table with Rabbit and Ken along with several hangers on. People Faith had rescued from Box and her gang at one time or another and because of that, sought to at least be near Faith any chance they could get. Even if they couldn’t quite work up the nerve to actually speak with her.
Taking a bite of what the prison referred to as food, Faith studied Box as she laughed heartily at whatever one of her cronies said. She was a large woman, with as much fat as muscle on her body, who had a hardness to her. Her dirty blonde hair was always pulled back in a ponytail, pulled high to reveal the scar on her forehead, the one she’d gotten from Deacon, a rival gang leader, in a recent fight. Her green eyes were sharp and seeking, perpetually looking for something that no one else could see. In a way she reminded Faith of the bullies in elementary school. The ones who grew up way to fast for their bodies and as a result, took their unusual growth spurt out on the normal kids by beating the crap out of them.
One thing was for certain, if it weren’t for Faith being around then Box would probably be a more feared person in the prison. That was something Box knew herself and it was most definitely why she hated Faith. More than once, she’d tried to take the Slayer out of the picture but it always failed. Her girls were never a match for Faith and when she’d tried herself, well…
A month in the infirmary wasn’t something Box wanted to try again.
“Slayer?” asked Rabbit with a frown. It was never a good thing when she wore that expression, Rabbit knew. So far every time she had seen it, something bad had gone down. Something bad the Slayer tried to stop. “What’s up?”
“Box is up to somethin’,” replied Faith simply, her eyes narrowing. “I dunno what but it’s somethin’.” After she said this, her eyes locked with the gang leader who smirked at her. “I’m gonna find out what,” Faith growled, pushing back her chair and rising to her feet.
“Should mind your own business,” murmured Ken as she continued to eat. She didn’t look at Faith as she spoke. “What does it matter what Box is doing? Let the gangs kill themselves, I say. It’s not our problem.”
Stopping in her walk, Faith’s shoulders tensed as she considered Ken’s words. It was true, it wasn’t her business… the gangs had nothing to do with her. She wasn’t a part of that, she never wanted to be, but still… that look in Box’s eyes. That look told her something was going to go down.
Something big.
Faith didn’t want to just sit back and let it happen. Not when in here, something big meant something bad. Something really bad. On her own, she had caused more pain than she wanted to recall and being in here, it was her attempt to fix that, to try and redeem herself for all the sins she committed.
She couldn’t redeem herself and ignore a situation where she knew very well people would end up hurt and possibly dead as it occurred. That’s why Faith straightened her shoulders, talked with the guards at the front of the cafeteria, and left lunch early to go in search of one of her few friends in this place.
One who always knew what was going on.
---
When she approached the open cell, Faith found her friend occupied in the favorite occupation for both of them these days. Namely reading. Tapping lightly on the outside of the cell, Faith grinned when she saw baffled chestnut eyes meet her own. Slipping into the cell, Faith drawled, “Priestess Venda, reading about the white magic. What’re you gonna do? Self impregnate yourself so you can create some sorta super army of lesbian wiccans to take over this place?”
“First of all,” began the Puerto Rican woman who sat on her cot and arched a perfect chocolate brown eyebrow at Faith, “my name is Veronica and you’re the only damn person in this place to actually call me that sometimes, so please use it. Second of all, I’m not a lesbian, so why would I self impregnate? Third of all, what are you doing in my cell when I know very well you should be busy stuffing yourself with that horrible substance they call food right now?”
Nearing Veronica, the smile left Faith’s face as she said, “Box is plannin’ something, Ronnie, and I wanna know what.”
“Hm,” said Veronica thoughtfully, setting down her book on white magic. She leaned back against the wall and crossed her legs. “Why is that? You’ll only get yourself into trouble again, Slayer.”
Faith stared solemnly at Veronica who sighed at this. She was the only one in this place to actually know what Faith’s nickname actually meant. A wiccan seer of the highest degree, Veronica could call upon accurate visions of what was, what is, and even what was to be. Because of this talent and her own rather loose moral values, Veronica decided to start up a psychic hotline.
One that actually predicted things correctly. The problem was that it predicted so correctly that people began to get a tad addicted to it… spending all their money to call up Veronica and the army of seers she’d recruited to work for her. This got the attention of the government and before Veronica knew it, she was being put on trial for conning millions of dollars from the public and had landed herself in here. The other people in her company got off lightly, with a slap to the wrist, but Veronica as the ‘ringleader’ had to serve some time, they said.
More than once, Faith teased Veronica, asking her why she didn’t see this happening and Veronica always gave her a dirty look and said that at the time she was far too busy trying to correctly predict other peoples futures than to give a good look at her own. Something she infinitely regretted now.
Around the prison, she was known simply as Priestess Venda. The television alter ego she used to advertise her hotline. It was a constant annoyance to her and sometimes she wished she practiced black magic instead of white so she could get off a few shots at her fellow inmates. However, she remained a stout disciple of white magic and dealt with the comments.
Besides, with a few eerie predictions here and there, Veronica managed to thoroughly freak out enough prisoners to get them to relatively leave her alone. Before Faith arrived, she kept to herself, never talking much to anyone but when Veronica saw her for the first time, she knew who Faith was and approached her.
Thus began their friendship, one that both women were infinitely grateful for. It was hard to find people to trust in the world and it was even harder in this place. That still didn’t keep Veronica from being truly perplexed about Faith’s motivations. True, it was part of her job to save people, to help them, but what was the point of it in here? It was almost futile… they all got hurt in prison one way or another.
“I gotta,” said Faith quietly, her eyes dark on Veronica, “you know that.”
Sighing again, Veronica shook her head and murmured, “Your redemption, I know. All right,” she said in resigned tones as she leaned over and pulled out a pair of unusually fluffy pink earmuffs from under her cot, “I’ll help you.”
“Thanks,” Faith said with a grin, her eyes twinkling as she watched Veronica put on the ridiculous looking earmuffs. “Ronnie… do you gotta wear those things every time you do this? They make you look damn stupid.”
“You want me to be able to concentrate?” asked Veronica as she stared dryly at Faith who rolled her eyes at this. “Then yes, I have to wear them. Stupid they are but they’re also my only way of attempting to block this place out. It helps me concentrate while I’m focusing on the vision.”
“Right, right,” said Faith, waving her hand along because she’d already heard this a million times before. To tell the truth, she just liked teasing Veronica about those stupid earmuffs she knew the woman loved more than life itself. They were a present from her boyfriend or something. “Just predict already.”
“Bossy thing, aren’t you?” Veronica muttered to herself before she closed her eyes and focused on calling a vision. It was more difficult each time; she was so out of practice.
Before she was in here, she called on visions at least a hundred times a day and now? Maybe once a month if she was lucky. There wasn’t much to try and predict in here, it was so monotonous and seeing her friends and family on the outside was painful for her so she’d stopped calling those visions to her. It was more than one could imagine… being trapped behind bars and yet, still being able to see those you hold most dear, feeling as if you’re with them, but not being able to talk with them or even touch them.
For her own sanity, she had to stop. That’s why Veronica was more than a little rusty when Faith called upon her skills today. Then, with a jolt she saw her. Box talking with her mutants. Laughing over their plan to kill Deacon, the leader of the Disciples, their only true rival gang in the prison, speaking on how with her gone they would have run of the prison and not even Faith could stop them.
She closed her mind off quickly, blocking the vision she was getting from Box. The one of the next murder she had planned, details on Faith’s death, how exactly she wanted it to happen. With a gasp of air, she ripped the earmuffs from her head, lowering her face so her long brown hair covered her face. Gripping her cotton sheets, Veronica squeezed her eyes tightly shut. That’s why she hated calling on her visions while in here. She never saw anything good when it came to this place.
Never.
“Ronnie?” asked Faith in cautious tones, slowly approaching the other woman, sitting down on her cot and lightly touching her arm. “You okay? You never were like that… not the times before. If you want, you don’t hafta do this any--“
“It’s all right,” assured Veronica, taking another breath and lifting her head to smile softly at Faith. “I’m fine, I promise. It just wasn’t fun to see that.”
“See what?” Faith asked as her eyes narrowed. “What does Box got planned?”
“She’s going to get rid of Deacon,” replied Veronica, frowning on thinking of it. She didn’t like the gangs, she and Faith had that in common, but you couldn’t exist in this place and not know Deacon was far better than Box in every way possible. If Box killed Deacon then she would have the run of the prison and that would make the prison a living hell… more than it already was. “Soon.”
“No problem,” said Faith, looking resolved as she rose to her feet. “Because I'm not gonna let it happen. I’ll warn Deacon… fuck, I’ll even protect her sorry ass if that’s what it takes to keep Box from takin’ control.”
“Slayer,” said Veronica almost sharply and Faith looked at her with surprise on hearing that tone in her voice. “You shouldn’t get mixed up with this. It’s a gang war, that means it's gang business. You’ll only dig yourself in a hole if you try and sort it out.”
“I already told you, Ronnie,” said Faith calmly, meeting her gaze. “I gotta do this. I’m not about to let Box have her way around here.”
“You’ll get yourself killed,” Veronica whispered painfully, recalling the vision.
Stilling at this comment, Faith clenched then unclenched her hands, stretching her fingers in the air as she said softly, “Then I die, no big loss. I’ve only got one person waitin’ for me on the outside anyway.”
“That’s more than most,” said Veronica to Faith’s disappearing figure.
---
Deacon stared at the girl in front of her and wished for probably the thousandth time since Faith arrived that the Slayer would join the Disciples. Not one person in the prison didn’t hold some degree of respect for her and having her with them would only add to their reputation.
Too bad Faith didn’t want to join any gangs.
Which led Deacon to wonder why exactly the Slayer had crossed the yard with such determination in her eyes, ignoring the dirty looks from her people, and the louder insulting shouts from Box and her mutants. No, she didn’t let any of that faze her as she walked up to Deacon, stopping a few inches in front of her to meet her in a level gaze that was altogether earnest in its solemnity.
“Slayer,” said Deacon, folding her arms across her chest. “You want something?”
Deacon was a tall woman with dusky caramel skin, she was all legs and deliciously beautiful to top it off. If she weren’t known for having a fierce temper then no doubt her looks would’ve gotten her into some trouble when she first arrived. But Deacon didn't have to deal with that because she was well known due to exactly why she ended up in prison. Her case was once all over the news and still popped up now and again. A single mother who found out her child was being molested by a next door neighbor and instead of dealing with what she felt to be an inept law system, took care of him herself. Namely by murdering him a very slow and painful manner that left body parts missing. It didn’t escape Faith's attention that the father of Deacon’s child had been a former gang leader himself, so it was clear she already knew the ropes. In weeks she had started the Disciples and in months they were Box’s only real worry in the prison since there were so many of them and they were all well united under Deacon’s leadership.
Everyone but Box, her mutants, and a few rare stragglers had respect for her. She was harsh at times but she was always fair. No one could say that Deacon didn’t go after the ones that didn’t deserve it in here. Even Faith agreed with that. Still, she never went out of her way to speak with her. This left Deacon more than a little curious as to why the Slayer was standing in front of her now.
“Box is plannin’ on taking you out,” said Faith simply, not mincing words. “I dunno when it’s gonna happen or how it’s gonna go down but it’s soon.”
“Is that so?” asked Deacon. She looked away from the Slayer and focused on Box and her mutants across the yard. Box wore a definite scowl on her features and green eyes were narrowed decisively at them. She was upset about them talking, that was for sure. But was it because of the reasons the Slayer said? Then again… there was the Slayer herself. She never helped the gangs, just the weaker inmates, the new arrivals who got themselves into trouble. So why would she be helping her now? Looking back at the Slayer, she said, “You want to tell me why you’re giving me this information? You don’t get involved in our shit, you never have, so why start now?”
“Because if Box offs you it’s not just a gang problem, it’s gonna be a problem for the entire prison,” said Faith honestly. “I don’t wanna join up, yeah, but I also don’t wanna see you dead and I sure as hell don’t want Box runnin’ this place.”
Staring at Faith long and hard, Deacon finally gave a low nod of her head. If the famous Slayer was offering her help, she wasn’t about to be stupid enough to turn her down. It was always good to get allies wherever you could. “What are you gonna do then?” she asked, her voice quiet but hard, knowing very well the Slayer had something planned.
“Stop her,” Faith replied rather grimly.
“In any way that you can?” Deacon continued slyly, offering a grin.
It was too much to hope that the Slayer would be taking care of the problem of Box for her by offing the other gang leader. She, like everyone there, knew her deal. As much as Faith was respected and even a bit feared in the prison, it was common knowledge that she kept to herself. Meaning that if you didn’t fuck with her then she wouldn’t fuck with you. Which, most of the time, was a good thing. That’s why the entire concept that the Slayer was helping her now thoroughly baffled Deacon. But still, if the Slayer was going to help then why not try to get her to help as much as humanly possible?
“Right,” Faith gave a derisive snort, “you’re takin’ this a little too far, Deac. You know what I’m about and it’s enough I’m helpin’ you at all.”
“Yeah, I know,” said Deacon, eyeing the Slayer speculatively. She glanced over at her people and saw they were getting increasingly hostile the longer she spoke with Faith. It was time to end the conversation and stop them before they did something stupid. “I’ll see you around. We'll talk more,” Deacon murmured finally.
“Sure,” said Faith easily, her expression unreadable. Like Deacon she didn’t want to give anything away to Box and her mutants. With a smirk, she realized the perfect way to throw them all off and maybe have some fun in the process. Faith strode forward and leaned in, her lips just a inch away from Deacon's, her breath hot and sweet on the other woman’s skin, hands warm on Deacon as they lightly touched her waist. “You'll see me the next time I get lonely,” she drawled sensually.
Deacon wasn’t unfamiliar with the touch of a woman. She didn’t consider herself straight, gay, or bisexual. It was more that when she was on the outside, she had her man, and in here she had her women. That’s why she knew she shouldn’t be reacting the way she was to Faith’s touch. Not with a soft gasp and a quiver from her body as it reacted to the feel of those callused but unbearably soft fingertips on her skin. All the Slayer did was tip up her chin, cupping it so she could look directly into her eyes. Staring down at the Faith, Deacon swallowed the lump in her throat. She was the leader of the Disciples, what would soon be THE gang in the prison, she couldn’t be this way, it wasn’t allowed.
“Lookin' forward to it,” replied Deacon, aware of how unnaturally throaty her voice sounded. Why did the Slayer have to be such a good actress anyway?
Walking away, well aware of all the eyes on her and Faith alike, Deacon approached her people to immediately be greeted with blank and wondering stares that their leader was somehow involved with the ultra private and even more prudish Slayer. Then began all of the dirty jokes and various questions about Faith’s sexual prowess and demands on why they weren’t told about their boss’ big score. While this went on, Deacon answered them best she could, all while observing Faith as she quietly exited the yard, not speaking to anyone as she departed, seeming alone in herself.
She had no idea why the Slayer was helping her. Part of Deacon believed it was for the reasons that she said but there was another, stronger, part of her that said it had to do with something else. Something more important and that’s why Faith put her beliefs about staying away from the gang problems aside to approach her.
Only Deacon had no idea what the real reason could be.
Go To Part Two...
Kind of a shame.
TITLE: Nor Iron Bars
AUTHOR: Dreiser
EMAIL: dreise7@yahoo.com
YAHOO IM: dreiser7
MY WEBSITE: http://www.dreiser.net/
CORDELIA & FAITH ML: http://groups.yahoo.com/group/cordyhasfaith/
CONTENT: F/F romance. The stars are Faith/Cordelia. Don't like it, don't like them, please don't read the fic.
SUMMARY: Faith is in prison and one day Cordelia is forced into visiting her.
DISCLAIMER: I own nothing but my boots, which are made for walkin' and that's just what they do but don't worry, I'm sure they won't walk all over you.
Nor Iron Bars
By: Dreiser
Part One...
Clank, clank, clank.
That was the sound of the Officer Sally's baton as it hit the bars. The sound sometimes reminded Faith of an aimless tune from some musical she couldn't recall.
Clang, clang, clang, went the trolley. Ring, ring, ring, went the bell... she didn't know the other lyrics.
Every time Officer Sally went on her usual head count for lights out, her baton hitting the bars of their cells as she did, that song came into Faith's head.
Incomplete lyrics and all.
Sometimes Faith contemplated changing the lyrics to something more fitting to her situation. She could make them something like: Clank, clank, clank, went the baton on the bars. Bring, bring, bring, went the prison alarms.
That was regular Broadway material, right?
"Psssst. Slayer, you alive up there?"
Five seconds. A new world record. Out of boredom, Faith now timed how long it took her cellmate to bother her after Officer Sally went past. Tonight it had taken five seconds.
"No, I'm dead and doing an impression of a live person, Rabbit," said Faith lowly. She then covered her eyes with her arm and tried her level best to block out the unnatural quiet of lights out.
That was the one thing she missed the most. The noise of the outside world, that soft unending babble of sounds that came from living in a city or just a populated area. Faith had grown up in South Boston and she was used to those sounds, so used to them that they were now a comfort to her. Plus when there was noise, when there were sounds, that meant people were around.
And that meant she wasn't alone.
The problem was, as loud as the prison was during the day, with the shouts of the women and the unending fights, that all changed with lights out. Everyone in her block was relatively well behaved and that meant not a peep at night. Which left Faith very unnerved, lying in the darkness and listening to the silence that surrounded her.
"Funny," Rabbit drawled coyly and Faith heaved a sigh as she felt the other girl move out of her bunk to rest her upper body on the top of Faith's. "Talk with me, I can't sleep. Or do something else with me, hmm?"
Faith moved her arm slightly and caught Rabbit's green eyes with her own and scowled. The other girl's name was really Jessica Judith Jamison. Why in the hell her parents named her that, Faith had no idea. As utterly ridiculous as it sounded, that really was her name. But thanks to her eye catching curves and bright red hair, she was called Jessica Rabbit or just Rabbit for short. Her name also probably had to due with the fact that Jessica had the sex drive of a rabbit too.
"I told you," Faith growled somewhat menacingly, but not much, because she actually did happen to like Rabbit when the girl wasn't trying to get into her pants. "I'm off the market. Everyone knows that."
"Disappointment, hurt, sigh," Rabbit said, her voice oozing of drama as she rested her chin on Faith's bed. Moving down to her own bunk, she continued, "Why do you do this to me, Slayer? You know that I lust for you."
"Right," snorted Faith, turning over on her side and making a vain attempt to fluff up her too flat prison pillow. "Just go to bed already, will you?"
"But you're my hero," Rabbit continued on, ignoring Faith's warning. "You saved me from Box and her mutants when I first arrived." Rabbit paused to sniff and said, "As if I'd do anything with them. People think that just because I got paid for it on the outside I'll do it with anyone. I was a call girl. CALL girl. That has some meaning, you know. It means class! And anyway, for what I'm in here for you'd think they'd--"
"Rabbit!! Shut the hell up!"
Wincing now, Rabbit called, "Sorry, Officer Sally! I'll go to bed now, I swear it!"
"Don't swear anything! Go to bed!"
"Should've shut up when you had the chance," Faith said wisely. "Now you're gonna have extra duties."
"You should sleep with me," responded Rabbit sullenly, she disliked letting anyone but her to have the last word. "Everyone is calling you something new." She paused to give a little giggle then said, "Slayer: Warrior Nun."
There was a moment of silence before Faith groaned deeply then muttered darkly, "I'm gonna kill 'em."
"Who?" asked Rabbit curiously. "Everyone?"
"Yeah, everyone, the whole damn prison, starting with you, nosy rodent," Faith whispered dangerously, but a hint of humor rang through.
"Well, you DO work in the library," Rabbit giggled. "How cliche is that, Slayer? You're a prude librarian. Sitting all alone, just reading your books, avoiding human contact."
Instead of replying, Faith heaved yet another sigh and turned over on her side, attempting to get some sleep in spite of the overwhelming quiet of the prison.
Taking her cue, Rabbit fell silent and soon faded off into an easy slumber. This left Faith awake alone, listening to the quiet and the barest hint of Rabbit's soft snores in their cell.
Staring at the ceiling of the cell, Faith wondered what she wondered every night. How did it ever get this far? How did she end up here? And how would she fix it?
Closing her eyes, Faith lost herself to her thoughts until finally, sick of the quiet, she sang softly, "Clank, clank, clank, went the baton on the bars. Bring, bring, bring went the prison alarms..."
Suddenly, she didn't feel quite so alone anymore. But she did feel a hell of a lot more dorky. Ah well, you can't have everything.
---
It wasn't always good to improve yourself, you know. Cordelia was realizing this more and more. Especially when she found herself in situations like this. Where that cursed improvement of her generalized outlook on life was screwing her over and screwing her over royally at that. So with a sigh, Cordelia looked Angel in his big puppy dog eyes he was doing his best at exploiting and switched back into her traditional bitch role.
For her it was sort of like putting on a pair of stylish yet old high heels. The role fit her like a glove, looked good on her, and it was damn comfortable as well. Too bad Angel knew very well that wasn't Cordelia anymore.
Hence her not getting very far with her transformation into ultra bitch. Even if it did disconcert Fred, who was watching them with curious brown eyes as she perched on Cordelia's desk, frowning and trying to follow their conversation.
"Who's Faith?" asked Fred, tilting her head to one side inquisitively.
"You don't need to know, Fred," reassured Cordelia, glaring at Angel for simply bringing up the subject around Fred. The last thing she really wanted to do was explain about the second Slayer when explaining the first was such a huge trial in itself. "All you need to know about Faith is that there's no way in hell I'm visiting her."
"Cordy," Angel said with a sigh, his eyes pleading. "Stop. Don't be like this."
"I'll stop when you stop asking me to do incredibly stupid things," retorted Cordelia.
Angel sighed yet again then said, "You know I wouldn't ask you--"
"You can ask me," said Fred in chipper tones.
At this, Angel and Cordelia looked Fred's way and Cordelia immediately focused her gaze on Angel and growled, "Don't you dare."
"I wasn't!" Angel said haplessly, holding up his hands, although it appeared as if some part of him might have been considering the option, strange as it was.
"And don't ask me again," enforced Cordelia, folding her arms over her chest and leveling Angel with a harsh gaze, "just don't."
"I thought you wanted me to take this case seriously," said Angel and Cordelia frowned, realizing he was now working the practical angle on her. Obviously the emotional aspect wasn't doing it so he moved his focus onto the essential factor in life… money. "You do keep telling me how important this client is. How can I take the case seriously if I have to turn my attention away from it for almost two hours to visit Faith in prison and give her some new books? And I'm supposed to be protecting her too," he shook his head sadly, "not very professional if you ask me."
"Well, here's an idea, dense boy, don't visit Faith at all," Cordelia replied bitingly.
Angel's brow furrowed and he looked off to one side, instantly shifting into his usual brooding state as he murmured, "I can't do that to her." Looking back at Cordelia, he went on, "She trusts me, Cordy, and she doesn't trust many. I always go to see her, each and every week. If I didn't come, she would think something was wrong. Like what happened with…" He trailed off, wincing as he thought of the two women who had been most important to him at one time and the influence they still had over his life. Influence enough to make him forget Faith. Exactly like all of the people before him had done. He couldn't do that again, he simply couldn't. "Please, Cordy," he finished quietly, looking at her with earnest eyes. "Just this once."
Self improvement really was a bitch, Cordelia decided. Meeting his gaze and heaving a huge sigh, Cordelia looked off to one side and said shortly, "Fine." Sensing the wave of happiness, or as much happiness as Angel allowed himself, Cordelia looked back at him and cut him off with a glare. "You owe me though."
"Owe you?" asked Angel warily, stopping in his walk towards Cordelia.
"Yes, owe me," Cordelia now looked very pleased with herself. Quite like the cat who has eaten the canary and the canary was covered in yummy chocolate sauce. Angel didn't like that expression in the least. In fact, it rather frightened him. "I want you to sink every last penny from this case, with the exception of employee salaries of course, into stocks and bonds… intelligent ones, not crazy trendy ones, but the type that will last and just maybe bring in some actual cash for us one day. I want you," Cordelia emphasized as she grinned widely and strutted forward to poke Angel in the chest, "to think about the future for all of us. Unlike you, we'll need to be taken care of in our old age, you know. If we even manage to make it there in the first place."
"You want me to start a retirement fund?" asked Angel a bit incredulously.
"I want you to put our money in the right places," said Cordelia smartly, folding her arms across her chest and looking utterly smug. "Call it my service fee for visiting Faith."
"Service fee… that sounds a little dirty," Fred giggled, speaking up after an unusually long bout of silence. Most likely she had been watching them and analyzing the entire conversation to try and discern whom Faith was.
Which was why the only response Fred got to her comment was Cordelia and Angel looking her way and both of them deciding it was definitely best that Fred didn't visit Faith. There really was no way of telling how their two personalities would mesh. Or if it would be anything good for the people around them.
---
"You always read that book, why is that?"
Looking up, Faith met the eyes of her supervisor and fellow inmate, Rachel Kendricks, known around the prison simply as Ken. She was a lifer… a woman many said had gone over the edge, snapped, and because of it killed her entire family. Ken was in her late fifties, her short cropped hair graying, and deep blue eyes dark with knowledge. Faith found in her a compatriot of sorts. Ken knew what it was to see the darkness and in turn, become the darkness, and what that led to. More than that, Ken understood Faith and her longing for change, to become more than what she was.
To hope someday, somehow, for some level of forgiveness for the insanity that had become her and her life. The same insanity that was her mother's life, the one she had always sworn she'd never fall into. Look at her now though. She had become her mother and everything worse. Still, it hadn't always been this way. There was a brief period when things were good, when she was truly happy.
They had taken away her precious mementos of that time, the bracelet and the picture. But she had her memories and she had this book. Closing it gently, even though it was not the original copy she first saw the poem in, this book was just as important to her.
"Because," said Faith, staring at the cover of the book, "it reminds me of happier times and of someone who really cared about me, y'know?"
"Huh," Ken said as she studied Faith closely. Shrugging, she sat down next to Faith at the small table and continued skeptically, "If you say so, Slayer. Personally I don't think Poe is the type of author most people would read to cheer up."
"Yeah, well, I'm not most people," replied Faith, meeting Ken's gaze and smirking slightly. "I figured that you'd know that by now."
"You would think," Ken said wryly, giving Faith a grin of her own.
She leaned back in her chair and studied the empty library. It was just about time for lunch and that was the dead time of day. Most inmates were working out in the yard or they were in the communal area, watching some television. Very few besides Ken and Faith spent time in the library. Well, Ken had to form another grin as she thought of it, there were the people that the Slayer had saved from Box and the other gang members. They showed up here more times than not simply to stare at Faith with something akin to awe. Ken found it all too amusing but Faith was bothered by it. She wasn't someone to admire. No one was in this place, in her opinion.
"So," said Ken, keeping up her study of her young companion. "How are your classes going? You fix that problem you were having in math?" Ken shook her head and sighed. "I never liked that subject much myself. English was more my area of expertise." With a chuckle, Ken waved her hand expansively around the tiny library. "Which is probably why I ended up in here, don't you think?"
"Yeah, I fixed it," said Faith. "Phillips helped me, y'know. He's a good teacher."
"Uh hmm," said Ken thoughtfully, her blue eyes knowing.
Looking over at Ken and scowling on hearing the tone in her voice, Faith demanded, "What? I know you're thinkin' something twisted, Ken, so you better just spill it."
"Nothing," said Ken innocently. When Faith continued to bore her gaze into her, she heaved a sigh and shook her head. "Fine, but don’t act like you didn't ask me for this, Slayer." Leaning closer, she met Faith's eyes on the level and stated, "The man's only playing goody goody because wants to sleep with you."
"And?" asked Faith in an extremely droll voice.
"And what? That isn't enough?" asked Ken a bit incredulously. She narrowed her eyes and said, "You mean to tell me you knew that this whole time?"
"Yeah," Faith admitted with a shrug. "He wants me, big fuckin' whoop. So does half of this prison. I'm someone people want to lay, that's no goddamn secret." She looked back down at her book and her face darkened as she lightly touched its worn cover. "But I'm not about that anymore so it's not something I'm gonna worry about."
"Even if he tries something," said Ken, sounding altogether ominous. It wasn't like she wanted to bring this up but things had been known to happen in this place.
"He won't try jack," said Faith plainly, meeting Ken's eyes. "Phillips knows not to, just like everyone else who gets in this place knows not to."
"Ah, how could I forget?" Ken chuckled as she leaned back in her chair. "Your new nickname… Rabbit told me. Slayer: Warrior Nun."
For a response, Faith rolled her eyes before she focused back on the book. Lightly tracing the title with her fingertips. Wishing with everything that was in her that she could just turn back time and fix all her mistakes so she wouldn't end up here.
Only, she knew very well there was no way she could.
---
She really didn't want to be here.
Why did she let Angel talk her into this? I mean, did they really need a retirement fund? They had a risky enough business and an even riskier lifestyle. There was definitely an overwhelming chance she wouldn't live long enough to retire so who even cared if they money put away in the bank or not?
Cordelia realized during times like these that still having a modicum of hope for happiness in the future really didn't do her any good. Not when it got her into situations like this. Once again, she stared at the books in her hand. What in the world was Angel doing giving Faith stuff like this? She could understand maybe sending her a few comic books but Charles Dickens, Great Expectations and A Tale of Two Cities? Wasn't he a far too difficult author being as there were no pictures in his stories?
Oh well, it really wasn't her place to decide. She was just here to deliver the books, explain the situation to psycho Slayer, and then hightail it out of the prison before said psycho Slayer tried to break out of her prison home. Sighing yet again, Cordelia looked at the guard and said, "I'm here to visit Faith Spencer."
That was another thing. It was odd to know Faith's last name. Somehow none of them had never found that out in Sunnydale. Then again, had any of them even asked? Most likely the answer to that would be no but still, it was odd… Faith with a last name.
"Seeing the Slayer, huh," said the guard who looked at her evenly.
"What?" Cordelia squeaked and halfway sputtered. They knew what Faith was here? Besides the psychotic killer part? "How do you--"
"Spencer, sorry," the guard said with a lopsided little grin. She shook her head and murmured, "I forget sometimes that you all don't know them by the same names we do. I meant to say you're here to see Spencer, right?"
"You mean Faith?" asked Cordelia hesitantly, unsure what was going on.
"Yeah, Faith Spencer," said the guard, looking at Cordelia as if she was a candidate for extensive brain surgery. "I'm Sally, one of guards in her block. She's one of the good ones in there, you know. We're surprised she doesn't get many visitors. Just tall, dark, and handsome, and now you."
"I'm only visiting her because he couldn't make it," said Cordelia quickly. The last thing she wanted was this woman to think she actually was Faith's friend or something.
"Oh," Sally's expression dropped and she narrowed her eyes a bit. "I see." She was quiet for a moment then shrugged her shoulders. "Anyway, let's get you in there, huh? I gotta say she was surprised… he always comes in on Fridays." Holding her hands out, she went on, "I'll take those. They're from him too, I'm guessing?"
"Yes, they are," said Cordelia coolly, not liking at all how this guard was treating her. The woman was acting as if Cordelia was the bad guy for not wanting to visit Faith. It had to be some sort of adverse reaction from being around prisoners so much. Losing all ability to see actual good people when around them. "Apparently, she likes to read."
"Ought to, working in the library," Sally said as she lightly moved around Cordelia and led her into a room already filled with visitors talking with prisoners through a telephone system that separated them by a thick plastic pane. Both women moved their eyes to lock on Faith, looking almost anxious as she sat there. When dark brown eyes locked onto Cordelia they widened in surprise and it seemed as if the anxiety increased. "There she is," murmured Sally and Cordelia looked back at her, "she doesn't look like she used to, does she? Most don't… after being in here for awhile."
Cordelia slowly walked forward, meeting Faith’s huge brown eyes with her own. Sitting down, she met the Slayer's gaze and frowned as she saw the guilt in her expression. She hadn't been expecting this at all. Somehow she had thought Faith would remain the same… that her confidence would be there, her self assurance and sexual overtones that always bothered Cordelia to no end, and her jaunty smirk.
They were gone though and in their place was an expression of fear and guilt. What was she afraid of though? It wasn't like Cordelia had the power to hurt Faith. She doubted it was even in her ability to do so. Picking up the phone, she tapped on the glass, startling Faith out of her reverie enough to follow Cordelia's suit.
"Queen C," said Faith in very uncertain tones. "What are you doin' here?"
"Angel sent me," replied Cordelia succinctly, "he wanted to let you know that he can't make it into see you this week. He's dealing with an important case but he didn't want you to think he forgot about you, hence him begging me to show up for him."
"Oh," Faith said quietly, ducking her gaze. She coughed and looked away from Cordelia and either at the wall or a fellow inmate as she continued, "So that's why."
"Yes, that's why," said Cordelia as her eyes narrowed. "Why else would I be here?"
"No reason," Faith mumbled, keeping her gaze far from the Seer. "I just… I dunno." Looking back at Cordelia, she swallowed the lump in her throat and murmured, "Since you're here, I wanna tell you I'm--"
"You're sorry, yeah, I know," said Cordelia coolly. "But what are you sorry for? Trying to kill Angel? Torturing Wesley? Assaulting me? Or just all of the above?"
"Yeah, all of the above," said Faith, her voice still quiet, calmly meeting Cordelia's gaze. "I get that you don't wanna forgive me Queen C, I did a lot wrong…"
"A lot? A lot is putting it mildly, Faith! You did everything wrong," said Cordelia. She sighed deeply and looked away from the dark Slayer. "Look, I don't have time to go into this with you. I don't even want to go into this with you. All I was supposed to do was show up, tell you Angel's not coming, and deliver those books for you."
"Books?" asked Faith hopefully, her expression lighting up immediately.
"Yes, books," said Cordelia, eyeing Faith strangely. "He sent you some stuff by that guy who wrote A Christmas Carol." Recalling what the guard had said to her, Cordelia let her ever present curiosity get the best of her and asked, "You really work in the library?"
"Yeah," said Faith and she almost, just almost, appeared to flush at this. Cordelia blinked and observed this in certain amazement. Was Faith actually embarrassed? Faith? The girl who talked nonstop about sex was embarrassed over something like working in a library? Okay… it was official, the world no longer made sense. Focusing back on the Slayer, she listened to the girl speak absently, almost to herself as she murmured, "When I first got in all I did was work out, y'know? Spent all my time in the yard but after awhile it got borin', so I ended up in the library. The chick who runs it is pretty cool and she hooked me up with some wicked books. I told Angel and ever since he's been bringing me stuff he thinks I'd like to read." Faith looked back at Cordelia, forming an absent grin and shrugged. "After that I spent most of my time either workin' out, seeing the shrink, or in the library readin'. Got a job there and it's workin' out."
"Sounds like," Cordelia replied, feeling altogether baffled over Faith's attitude.
Of course, Cordelia still didn't trust her but it did seem as if Faith had gone through some changes. The Faith that she knew didn't like to read. Then again… had she ever really known Faith? Had any of them? Maybe Buffy, but not very much. Was that why she did what she did? Because they weren't there for her and the Mayor was?
Watching the emotions pass over Cordelia's features, Faith frowned then said in soft tones that were also rough, "You want to know, don't ya?"
"What?" Cordelia blinked, honestly lost as to where this was going.
"Why I did it… everythin' back there in Sunny D, you wanna know why," supplied Faith quietly as she watched Cordelia with knowing eyes that were lidded. "Dontcha?"
"Yeah," admitted Cordelia slowly, "I guess I do."
Brown eyes darkened into black and Faith said, "Do you wanna hear it straight, Queen C? Or do you just wanna hear what you'd like best?"
"Give me the real reason behind it all," said Cordelia shortly. "No playing the blame game, no excuses for your actions, none of that. Just the real reason."
A seemingly endless moment of silence passed then a guard approached Faith, lightly touching her shoulder and Faith looked up at her, nodding at whatever she said. Turning her gaze back to Cordelia, her brown eyes mixed with more emotions than Cordelia could make out much less fathom, Faith murmured, "I wanted to be loved."
Then she hung up the phone, quietly allowing the guard to lead her away as Cordelia stared at her with wide eyes. That had been the last thing she could've expected to pass from the Slayer's lips and yet, somehow, it was also the one thing that made the most amount of sense. And that scared Cordelia somehow.
The idea of needing love that much could cause someone to do what Faith had done. But she understood it, she could even relate to it. Which scared her even more as she numbly rose to her feet and prepared to leave the prison.
Cordelia wasn't sure what she thought visiting Faith would be like but she didn't think it would be like this. Nor did she ever think that when it was all over and done with a small part of her would be wanting to come back.
---
After ten minutes, Cordelia finally decided that she couldn't take it anymore and turned to face Angel, arching an eyebrow as she said dryly, "Yes?"
For a response, Angel blinked then formed a guilty expression. "I was wondering how things went today," he explained, nearing her desk, "you know, with Faith."
"Ah, Faith, as if I could possibly forget," Cordelia rolled her eyes then turned back to her computer to continue surfing the internet. "It went exactly like I thought it would… namely it went very badly."
"Really?" asked Angel cautiously, frowning as he studied Cordelia.
"No, I guess not," said Cordelia, shaking her head. She sighed and looked up at him with a frank expression. "I didn't talk to her enough for it to go badly. I went there, told her you couldn't visit her this week, explained why, and left. There wasn't much to it."
"You gave her the books?" Angel asked hopefully.
"No," said Cordelia, glaring slightly at him, "I gave the guard the books."
"Oh, Sally, good," said Angel happily as he smiled widely. Leaning against the front counter, his eyes darkened as he watched Cordelia at her computer. She was way too tense… as if she was worried about something. "Cordelia?" he said softly. When she faced him again, Angel continued, "What happened?"
She stared at him for a long moment before lowering her gaze. Turning around, she rested her head on the back of her chair and stared up at the ceiling. "It was strange to see her again, that's all," murmured Cordelia. "She didn't look the same."
"No, she doesn't," agreed Angel with a quiet solemnity. "Faith has changed, Cordelia, and for the better. She's doing her best to make amends for her past, just like I am."
"Faith isn't like you Angel," said Cordelia, clenching her jaw. "At least when you went all crazy and murder spree inducing you had a reason. You were a soulless evil vampire. It's not like that for Faith. She's human, just like me, and she killed people, ruined their lives, without even a second thought."
"People are capable of as much good as they are evil," said Angel wisely, walking out of the foyer to the Hyperion so he could go check on their client upstairs. "Faith included."
Watching him go for a moment, Cordelia narrowed her eyes and muttered to herself, "I wonder if it's being old that makes him act like such a know it all or it's just a part of his really annoying personality."
"The latter I would think."
Jumping slightly in the air, Cordelia whirled around to see Wesley leaning on the doorframe to his office, smiling knowingly at her. "Don't do that!" Cordelia said huffily as she faced her computer screen once more. "You scared me half to death."
"Sorry," said Wesley, not sounding the least bit apologetic. Moving out of his office, he sat on the edge of Cordelia's desk, peering thoughtfully at her. "You visited Faith?"
"Angel asked me to," replied Cordelia softly now, not wanting to look into his eyes, fearing she'd see the same haunted expression Wesley always wore whenever Faith was brought up. "He wanted me to explain why he couldn't see her this week."
"I see," Wesley murmured after a moment. He averted his eyes from Cordelia, sensing somehow that his gaze was making her uneasy. Focusing across the length of the foyer, he went on, "How did she seem?"
Freezing in midmotion, Cordelia's fingers hovered above the computer keyboard. Quietly, she lowered them against the desk and gripped it as she said, "She's different. I didn't want her to be, Wesley. I wanted to go in there and hate her for everything she's done but I couldn't… I looked in her eyes and I saw…" Cordelia stared at her fingers, watching them pale as she continued to grip the desk's edge tighter. "I saw someone else. Not the same person we're used to dealing with, the person I was prepared to hate. It was strange and… I don't know what to think anymore."
"You want to see her again," stated Wesley. She looked up into his eyes and he smiled at her, trying his best to look reassuring. "It's all right," he said, "I think I can understand why you would. Just… be careful, won't you? People sometimes appear to change but that's not always how it truly is."
"Do you forgive her?" Cordelia asked suddenly, facing him. She did wonder if he had forgiven her and that's why he was being so calm when they were discussing what was always a volatile subject for them both. "For what she did?"
Closing his eyes, Wesley tried to block the images of that night from arising in his mind once more. As he clenched his right hand into a fist, he said evenly, "I wouldn't say I've forgiven her so much as I perhaps have an inkling of why she did it. I wasn't the best Watcher, not by any means, and she thought at the time I was to blame for a great deal of why her life turned out so badly. I haven’t any idea if she still feels this way. Perhaps she doesn't… if she's changed as you've said."
"But do you forgive her?" pressed Cordelia softly, not knowing why she needed to hear the answer so much. She wasn't sure why but she just had to know.
"Not yet," said Wesley finally. Unclenching his hand, he stretched his fingers out and over the side of the desk and continued, "One day I will." Looking at her steadily, he said, "When you see her, you can tell her that if you wish."
"Who says I'm going to see her again?" asked Cordelia, bristling at the idea. She didn't want to see Faith again. Just the suggestion was ridiculous. Okay, she was curious about the changes she had seen but that didn't mean she wanted to see her again.
"Cordelia," said Wesley in almost stern tones, regarding her closely, a curly lock of hair falling into his eyes as he met her gaze. "We're friends, you and I, we shouldn't attempt to hide things from one another, should we?"
Narrowing her eyes at him, Cordelia pronounced, "You're way too attentive. Why can't you be more clueless, like Angel? It would really do me some good."
"Sorry, I'm afraid I possess a pair of sharp eyes and ears," murmured Wesley with a laugh, standing up and walking into his office. "You will think on what I've said, won't you? I don't want you to be hurt by her, Cordelia."
Instead of responding, Cordelia's shoulders slumped and she stared at her hands that lightly rested on the top of her desk. "Again," she whispered to the empty air, adding the missing word to Wesley's warning.
---
Something was going on. Faith knew it as she observed Box and her mutants from the length of the cafeteria. It was lunchtime and she sat in her usual table with Rabbit and Ken along with several hangers on. People Faith had rescued from Box and her gang at one time or another and because of that, sought to at least be near Faith any chance they could get. Even if they couldn’t quite work up the nerve to actually speak with her.
Taking a bite of what the prison referred to as food, Faith studied Box as she laughed heartily at whatever one of her cronies said. She was a large woman, with as much fat as muscle on her body, who had a hardness to her. Her dirty blonde hair was always pulled back in a ponytail, pulled high to reveal the scar on her forehead, the one she’d gotten from Deacon, a rival gang leader, in a recent fight. Her green eyes were sharp and seeking, perpetually looking for something that no one else could see. In a way she reminded Faith of the bullies in elementary school. The ones who grew up way to fast for their bodies and as a result, took their unusual growth spurt out on the normal kids by beating the crap out of them.
One thing was for certain, if it weren’t for Faith being around then Box would probably be a more feared person in the prison. That was something Box knew herself and it was most definitely why she hated Faith. More than once, she’d tried to take the Slayer out of the picture but it always failed. Her girls were never a match for Faith and when she’d tried herself, well…
A month in the infirmary wasn’t something Box wanted to try again.
“Slayer?” asked Rabbit with a frown. It was never a good thing when she wore that expression, Rabbit knew. So far every time she had seen it, something bad had gone down. Something bad the Slayer tried to stop. “What’s up?”
“Box is up to somethin’,” replied Faith simply, her eyes narrowing. “I dunno what but it’s somethin’.” After she said this, her eyes locked with the gang leader who smirked at her. “I’m gonna find out what,” Faith growled, pushing back her chair and rising to her feet.
“Should mind your own business,” murmured Ken as she continued to eat. She didn’t look at Faith as she spoke. “What does it matter what Box is doing? Let the gangs kill themselves, I say. It’s not our problem.”
Stopping in her walk, Faith’s shoulders tensed as she considered Ken’s words. It was true, it wasn’t her business… the gangs had nothing to do with her. She wasn’t a part of that, she never wanted to be, but still… that look in Box’s eyes. That look told her something was going to go down.
Something big.
Faith didn’t want to just sit back and let it happen. Not when in here, something big meant something bad. Something really bad. On her own, she had caused more pain than she wanted to recall and being in here, it was her attempt to fix that, to try and redeem herself for all the sins she committed.
She couldn’t redeem herself and ignore a situation where she knew very well people would end up hurt and possibly dead as it occurred. That’s why Faith straightened her shoulders, talked with the guards at the front of the cafeteria, and left lunch early to go in search of one of her few friends in this place.
One who always knew what was going on.
---
When she approached the open cell, Faith found her friend occupied in the favorite occupation for both of them these days. Namely reading. Tapping lightly on the outside of the cell, Faith grinned when she saw baffled chestnut eyes meet her own. Slipping into the cell, Faith drawled, “Priestess Venda, reading about the white magic. What’re you gonna do? Self impregnate yourself so you can create some sorta super army of lesbian wiccans to take over this place?”
“First of all,” began the Puerto Rican woman who sat on her cot and arched a perfect chocolate brown eyebrow at Faith, “my name is Veronica and you’re the only damn person in this place to actually call me that sometimes, so please use it. Second of all, I’m not a lesbian, so why would I self impregnate? Third of all, what are you doing in my cell when I know very well you should be busy stuffing yourself with that horrible substance they call food right now?”
Nearing Veronica, the smile left Faith’s face as she said, “Box is plannin’ something, Ronnie, and I wanna know what.”
“Hm,” said Veronica thoughtfully, setting down her book on white magic. She leaned back against the wall and crossed her legs. “Why is that? You’ll only get yourself into trouble again, Slayer.”
Faith stared solemnly at Veronica who sighed at this. She was the only one in this place to actually know what Faith’s nickname actually meant. A wiccan seer of the highest degree, Veronica could call upon accurate visions of what was, what is, and even what was to be. Because of this talent and her own rather loose moral values, Veronica decided to start up a psychic hotline.
One that actually predicted things correctly. The problem was that it predicted so correctly that people began to get a tad addicted to it… spending all their money to call up Veronica and the army of seers she’d recruited to work for her. This got the attention of the government and before Veronica knew it, she was being put on trial for conning millions of dollars from the public and had landed herself in here. The other people in her company got off lightly, with a slap to the wrist, but Veronica as the ‘ringleader’ had to serve some time, they said.
More than once, Faith teased Veronica, asking her why she didn’t see this happening and Veronica always gave her a dirty look and said that at the time she was far too busy trying to correctly predict other peoples futures than to give a good look at her own. Something she infinitely regretted now.
Around the prison, she was known simply as Priestess Venda. The television alter ego she used to advertise her hotline. It was a constant annoyance to her and sometimes she wished she practiced black magic instead of white so she could get off a few shots at her fellow inmates. However, she remained a stout disciple of white magic and dealt with the comments.
Besides, with a few eerie predictions here and there, Veronica managed to thoroughly freak out enough prisoners to get them to relatively leave her alone. Before Faith arrived, she kept to herself, never talking much to anyone but when Veronica saw her for the first time, she knew who Faith was and approached her.
Thus began their friendship, one that both women were infinitely grateful for. It was hard to find people to trust in the world and it was even harder in this place. That still didn’t keep Veronica from being truly perplexed about Faith’s motivations. True, it was part of her job to save people, to help them, but what was the point of it in here? It was almost futile… they all got hurt in prison one way or another.
“I gotta,” said Faith quietly, her eyes dark on Veronica, “you know that.”
Sighing again, Veronica shook her head and murmured, “Your redemption, I know. All right,” she said in resigned tones as she leaned over and pulled out a pair of unusually fluffy pink earmuffs from under her cot, “I’ll help you.”
“Thanks,” Faith said with a grin, her eyes twinkling as she watched Veronica put on the ridiculous looking earmuffs. “Ronnie… do you gotta wear those things every time you do this? They make you look damn stupid.”
“You want me to be able to concentrate?” asked Veronica as she stared dryly at Faith who rolled her eyes at this. “Then yes, I have to wear them. Stupid they are but they’re also my only way of attempting to block this place out. It helps me concentrate while I’m focusing on the vision.”
“Right, right,” said Faith, waving her hand along because she’d already heard this a million times before. To tell the truth, she just liked teasing Veronica about those stupid earmuffs she knew the woman loved more than life itself. They were a present from her boyfriend or something. “Just predict already.”
“Bossy thing, aren’t you?” Veronica muttered to herself before she closed her eyes and focused on calling a vision. It was more difficult each time; she was so out of practice.
Before she was in here, she called on visions at least a hundred times a day and now? Maybe once a month if she was lucky. There wasn’t much to try and predict in here, it was so monotonous and seeing her friends and family on the outside was painful for her so she’d stopped calling those visions to her. It was more than one could imagine… being trapped behind bars and yet, still being able to see those you hold most dear, feeling as if you’re with them, but not being able to talk with them or even touch them.
For her own sanity, she had to stop. That’s why Veronica was more than a little rusty when Faith called upon her skills today. Then, with a jolt she saw her. Box talking with her mutants. Laughing over their plan to kill Deacon, the leader of the Disciples, their only true rival gang in the prison, speaking on how with her gone they would have run of the prison and not even Faith could stop them.
She closed her mind off quickly, blocking the vision she was getting from Box. The one of the next murder she had planned, details on Faith’s death, how exactly she wanted it to happen. With a gasp of air, she ripped the earmuffs from her head, lowering her face so her long brown hair covered her face. Gripping her cotton sheets, Veronica squeezed her eyes tightly shut. That’s why she hated calling on her visions while in here. She never saw anything good when it came to this place.
Never.
“Ronnie?” asked Faith in cautious tones, slowly approaching the other woman, sitting down on her cot and lightly touching her arm. “You okay? You never were like that… not the times before. If you want, you don’t hafta do this any--“
“It’s all right,” assured Veronica, taking another breath and lifting her head to smile softly at Faith. “I’m fine, I promise. It just wasn’t fun to see that.”
“See what?” Faith asked as her eyes narrowed. “What does Box got planned?”
“She’s going to get rid of Deacon,” replied Veronica, frowning on thinking of it. She didn’t like the gangs, she and Faith had that in common, but you couldn’t exist in this place and not know Deacon was far better than Box in every way possible. If Box killed Deacon then she would have the run of the prison and that would make the prison a living hell… more than it already was. “Soon.”
“No problem,” said Faith, looking resolved as she rose to her feet. “Because I'm not gonna let it happen. I’ll warn Deacon… fuck, I’ll even protect her sorry ass if that’s what it takes to keep Box from takin’ control.”
“Slayer,” said Veronica almost sharply and Faith looked at her with surprise on hearing that tone in her voice. “You shouldn’t get mixed up with this. It’s a gang war, that means it's gang business. You’ll only dig yourself in a hole if you try and sort it out.”
“I already told you, Ronnie,” said Faith calmly, meeting her gaze. “I gotta do this. I’m not about to let Box have her way around here.”
“You’ll get yourself killed,” Veronica whispered painfully, recalling the vision.
Stilling at this comment, Faith clenched then unclenched her hands, stretching her fingers in the air as she said softly, “Then I die, no big loss. I’ve only got one person waitin’ for me on the outside anyway.”
“That’s more than most,” said Veronica to Faith’s disappearing figure.
---
Deacon stared at the girl in front of her and wished for probably the thousandth time since Faith arrived that the Slayer would join the Disciples. Not one person in the prison didn’t hold some degree of respect for her and having her with them would only add to their reputation.
Too bad Faith didn’t want to join any gangs.
Which led Deacon to wonder why exactly the Slayer had crossed the yard with such determination in her eyes, ignoring the dirty looks from her people, and the louder insulting shouts from Box and her mutants. No, she didn’t let any of that faze her as she walked up to Deacon, stopping a few inches in front of her to meet her in a level gaze that was altogether earnest in its solemnity.
“Slayer,” said Deacon, folding her arms across her chest. “You want something?”
Deacon was a tall woman with dusky caramel skin, she was all legs and deliciously beautiful to top it off. If she weren’t known for having a fierce temper then no doubt her looks would’ve gotten her into some trouble when she first arrived. But Deacon didn't have to deal with that because she was well known due to exactly why she ended up in prison. Her case was once all over the news and still popped up now and again. A single mother who found out her child was being molested by a next door neighbor and instead of dealing with what she felt to be an inept law system, took care of him herself. Namely by murdering him a very slow and painful manner that left body parts missing. It didn’t escape Faith's attention that the father of Deacon’s child had been a former gang leader himself, so it was clear she already knew the ropes. In weeks she had started the Disciples and in months they were Box’s only real worry in the prison since there were so many of them and they were all well united under Deacon’s leadership.
Everyone but Box, her mutants, and a few rare stragglers had respect for her. She was harsh at times but she was always fair. No one could say that Deacon didn’t go after the ones that didn’t deserve it in here. Even Faith agreed with that. Still, she never went out of her way to speak with her. This left Deacon more than a little curious as to why the Slayer was standing in front of her now.
“Box is plannin’ on taking you out,” said Faith simply, not mincing words. “I dunno when it’s gonna happen or how it’s gonna go down but it’s soon.”
“Is that so?” asked Deacon. She looked away from the Slayer and focused on Box and her mutants across the yard. Box wore a definite scowl on her features and green eyes were narrowed decisively at them. She was upset about them talking, that was for sure. But was it because of the reasons the Slayer said? Then again… there was the Slayer herself. She never helped the gangs, just the weaker inmates, the new arrivals who got themselves into trouble. So why would she be helping her now? Looking back at the Slayer, she said, “You want to tell me why you’re giving me this information? You don’t get involved in our shit, you never have, so why start now?”
“Because if Box offs you it’s not just a gang problem, it’s gonna be a problem for the entire prison,” said Faith honestly. “I don’t wanna join up, yeah, but I also don’t wanna see you dead and I sure as hell don’t want Box runnin’ this place.”
Staring at Faith long and hard, Deacon finally gave a low nod of her head. If the famous Slayer was offering her help, she wasn’t about to be stupid enough to turn her down. It was always good to get allies wherever you could. “What are you gonna do then?” she asked, her voice quiet but hard, knowing very well the Slayer had something planned.
“Stop her,” Faith replied rather grimly.
“In any way that you can?” Deacon continued slyly, offering a grin.
It was too much to hope that the Slayer would be taking care of the problem of Box for her by offing the other gang leader. She, like everyone there, knew her deal. As much as Faith was respected and even a bit feared in the prison, it was common knowledge that she kept to herself. Meaning that if you didn’t fuck with her then she wouldn’t fuck with you. Which, most of the time, was a good thing. That’s why the entire concept that the Slayer was helping her now thoroughly baffled Deacon. But still, if the Slayer was going to help then why not try to get her to help as much as humanly possible?
“Right,” Faith gave a derisive snort, “you’re takin’ this a little too far, Deac. You know what I’m about and it’s enough I’m helpin’ you at all.”
“Yeah, I know,” said Deacon, eyeing the Slayer speculatively. She glanced over at her people and saw they were getting increasingly hostile the longer she spoke with Faith. It was time to end the conversation and stop them before they did something stupid. “I’ll see you around. We'll talk more,” Deacon murmured finally.
“Sure,” said Faith easily, her expression unreadable. Like Deacon she didn’t want to give anything away to Box and her mutants. With a smirk, she realized the perfect way to throw them all off and maybe have some fun in the process. Faith strode forward and leaned in, her lips just a inch away from Deacon's, her breath hot and sweet on the other woman’s skin, hands warm on Deacon as they lightly touched her waist. “You'll see me the next time I get lonely,” she drawled sensually.
Deacon wasn’t unfamiliar with the touch of a woman. She didn’t consider herself straight, gay, or bisexual. It was more that when she was on the outside, she had her man, and in here she had her women. That’s why she knew she shouldn’t be reacting the way she was to Faith’s touch. Not with a soft gasp and a quiver from her body as it reacted to the feel of those callused but unbearably soft fingertips on her skin. All the Slayer did was tip up her chin, cupping it so she could look directly into her eyes. Staring down at the Faith, Deacon swallowed the lump in her throat. She was the leader of the Disciples, what would soon be THE gang in the prison, she couldn’t be this way, it wasn’t allowed.
“Lookin' forward to it,” replied Deacon, aware of how unnaturally throaty her voice sounded. Why did the Slayer have to be such a good actress anyway?
Walking away, well aware of all the eyes on her and Faith alike, Deacon approached her people to immediately be greeted with blank and wondering stares that their leader was somehow involved with the ultra private and even more prudish Slayer. Then began all of the dirty jokes and various questions about Faith’s sexual prowess and demands on why they weren’t told about their boss’ big score. While this went on, Deacon answered them best she could, all while observing Faith as she quietly exited the yard, not speaking to anyone as she departed, seeming alone in herself.
She had no idea why the Slayer was helping her. Part of Deacon believed it was for the reasons that she said but there was another, stronger, part of her that said it had to do with something else. Something more important and that’s why Faith put her beliefs about staying away from the gang problems aside to approach her.
Only Deacon had no idea what the real reason could be.
Go To Part Two...