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THIS IS THE SECOND POST! Don't read this first! Go HERE.
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 Two...
Faith was pretty sure that after getting herself involved in a potential gang war all because she was sticking her nose into stuff she had long promised she wouldn’t there was nothing else that could surprise her for the day. Then Sally came to her cell to inform her that she had a visitor.
Staring at the figure who sat across the plastic shield from her, Faith picked up the phone as she furrowed her brow and said dimly, “You came back.”
“Thank you, Captain Obvious,” said Cordelia in droll tones. “If our little talk continues like this then I just know I’m going to be filled with sparkly amusement.”
“Why did you come back?” asked Faith softly, genuinely puzzled over the situation. Her expression fell, face darkening as she looked off to one side and said, “He’s not comin’ again, is he? Y’know… if he doesn’t wanna come at all, he doesn’t have to. I’m grateful to the guy and all but I don’t want to be some pity case so--“
“Faith,” interrupted Cordelia quickly, surprised at how quickly the Slayer had assumed Angel didn’t want to visit her anymore, “it isn’t that.”
A long moment passed as Faith studied Cordelia with sharp eyes that drew over the planes of her face, trying to determine if the other woman was telling her the truth. “You mean it?” she said finally, her voice sounding small.
“Yes,” said Cordelia with nod. Again, this wasn’t what she expected. Not that she was expecting much of anything this time around. But she didn’t think right off she would once again see proof that Faith had changed. The girl that she had known… or at least seen before in Sunnydale would never allow anyone to view her as vulnerable as that. Especially not Cordelia. “The case is finished with and he’ll be in here next week, books in clammy vampire hands.” Cordelia frowned, scrunching up her nose as she tilted her head to one side, “I hope you don’t expect me to have any for you now. The only thing I have that’s close to reading material is an old copy of Vogue in my car.”
“No thanks,” said Faith with a drawl, calming down on realizing that her only real friend on the outside was still there for her when she needed him. Now the real question was, if Angel was coming to visit her then why exactly was Cordelia here right now? “So,” Faith inspected Cordelia with dark eyes, “what’s up? Why did you come back to visit the big bad Slayer stuck in the big house?”
“I happen to be here because I want to talk with you,” replied Cordelia, ignoring Faith’s attitude the best she could, but having a snippy reaction despite herself.
“About what?” asked Faith a little suspiciously. She couldn’t figure out for the life of her why Cordelia was here. Out of everyone she had done wrong the list for Cordelia was pretty short. Yes, she tortured Wesley and she tried to kill Angel, two good friends of hers, but all she had actually done to Cordelia herself was punch her. And that wasn’t special, Faith happened to punch a lot of people. It was really nothing personal. “I already apologized to you once so if you’re here to get me to beg forgiveness or some shit then you better get ready to be disappointed, stretch.”
“First of all, don’t call me stretch,” began Cordelia huffily as she narrowed her eyes and leaned back in her seat, “second of all, I’m not here to get another stupid apology. I couldn’t care less about that. Third of all…” Cordelia trailed off and paused to look slightly sheepish as her brain caught up with her always active mouth. “I don’t have a third of all,” she admitted.
The expression Faith wore on her face was a mixture of wariness and incredulity. She was pretty good at figuring people out but for the life of her she didn't have a clue about what Cordelia could possibly want from her. “What do you want to talk to me about?” she asked in a quiet demand, preparing for the worst.
"I…" Cordelia was at a loss for how to word why she was there. She knew in her heart why she was in the prison, visiting Faith again, but explaining it in a way where she didn't sound like a total idiot? Well… that was a tad difficult. "I've been thinking about what you told me last week. The reason why you've done everything you have."
"Yeah?" said Faith, her face unreadable as she stared at Cordelia with brown eyes that darkened into black from their sheer intensity. "What've you been thinkin'?"
"That I can maybe understand a little of why you acted that way," murmured Cordelia honestly, searching Faith's expression for some sign that the Slayer was truly listening to her. She found it in the slight widening of Faith's eyes as they looked at one another. "I never really loved anyone before Xander," she confessed wryly. Laughing now, she tilted her head, leaning into the phone as she spoke. "And if you don't know how that went, he cheated on me and we broke up. Having trust issues but still wanting to have someone really and truly love you is something I definitely have experience in."
"Who says I got trust issues?" asked Faith gruffly, scowling at Cordelia. So what if she was being polite… she didn't want some ex-cheerleader she barely knew analyzing her personality like some sort of hot Dr. Laura.
"Please," Cordelia rolled her eyes, "don't even start with me. You're not that scary, you know. In fact," hazel eyes narrowed and Cordelia studied Faith closely before forming a slow smile, "you're kind of cute in orange."
Faith arched an eyebrow and wondering if Cordelia had just flirted with her only to dismiss the thought with a shake of her head. "Don't make me break the plastic and come after you, stretch," she warned, her voice echoing with slight amusement.
"I told you not to call me that," Cordelia reminded in offended yet humorous tones. Reaching out, she tapped on the glass with an elegantly painted fingernail. "Besides, if you were really going to break the plastic I don't think you'd warn me first."
"Running start," drawled Faith with a smirk, leaning back in her chair and resting the phone on her shoulder. "I gotta give you one. Wouldn't be fair if I didn't."
They were silent for a moment and Faith froze as she met Cordelia's hazel eyes that were looking warmly at her. No one had looked at her like that. Not since…
Observing Faith wince painfully and her formerly happy expression darken, making her look years older than she actually was, Cordelia said softly, "Faith? What is it?"
"Why are you here?" asked Faith finally, staring Cordelia down. Her voice was rough as she continued on, "The real reason. No bullshit this time."
Drawing backwards from the strength of Faith's voice, the conviction that lay inside it, Cordelia ducked her head, looking at the counter for a long while. When she lifted her head and looked at the Slayer again, Cordelia whispered, sounding lost, "I don't know. Honestly I don't. I just wanted to see you… talk to you. Maybe so I can understand."
"Understand what? Why I'm such a murdering psycho loser?" Faith snarled, jerking backwards and preparing to hang up the phone on Cordelia.
"No!" Cordelia exclaimed loudly. So loudly that several prisoners and visitors cast looks their way and the nearest guard stepped closer to Faith. It also caused Faith herself to pause in her movement and freeze in her chair to meet Cordelia's eyes again. "I want to understand why everything's happened the way it has."
"Cordelia…" said Faith in wondering tones, sighing to herself as she ran her fingers through her thick and messy hair. "There's nothin' to understand. I was screwed up then, I didn't get how things really were and I hurt a lotta people. I'm in here to try and make up for it the only way that I know how. That's all you gotta know."
"No," Cordelia repeated, shaking her head, "it isn't."
Raising an eyebrow and wearing a clearly skeptical expression, Faith asked, "What else is there to wanna know? Tell me that."
"You," replied Cordelia simply. "I want to know you. The real you, not the Slayer, not the ultra slut, not the murdering psycho - I want to know Faith Spencer."
Gaping at Cordelia for what seemed like an eternity, Faith finally regained enough of her senses to clear her throat then ask in husky tones, "Why?"
"I already told you why," Cordelia smirked at Faith, tapping her fingernail on the plastic again. Her smirk widened as she said, "I want to understand."
Shaking her head in disbelief, Faith looked ready to reply when she looked back at the guard and her expression dropped before she nodded her head. Facing Cordelia with a look of disappointment, she said, "Time's up." She started to rise to her feet but stopped in her motion, something occurring to her as she moved. Looking Cordelia right in the eyes, Faith's gaze was dark and almost pleading. "You'll come back?"
"Yes," Cordelia was replying before she even realized what she was saying.
A wide smile spread across Faith's features as she walked away with the guard and despite herself, Cordelia couldn't stop herself from returning it. Or the warm feeling that filled her entire being from just seeing it directed at her. She did, however, fail to think about why that was. Most likely because she wouldn't like the answer.
---
Cordelia sat at her desk, looking at the computer but not really typing. She was thinking about her trip to see Faith and her promise to come back. Something in her really did want to see the other woman again; she just didn’t know exactly why she felt that way.
She couldn’t hate Faith anymore. Not that she really ever did hate her… she didn’t approve of what she did, certainly, but most of what happened didn’t deal with her precisely. Part of her was still angry, yes, over what Faith had done to Wesley and Angel, but another part wasn’t. Another part could see the pain in those dark eyes and she wanted to help soothe it.
But Cordelia had absolutely no idea why this was.
Maybe she had more of a mothering instinct than she ever thought. That could have to do with her reaction, certainly, but somehow she doubted that. So with a sigh, Cordelia stared blankly at her computer monitor and continued not typing.
That’s when a warm hand clasped her shoulder and she jumped in the air on feeling it. Whirling around, Cordelia came face to face with Wesley who wore a wry expression on his features due to her reaction. “Sorry to surprise you,” he said, his lips quirking up in a smile, “I hadn’t realized you were so distracted.”
“I’m not distracted,” Cordelia replied rather indignantly. When Wesley rewarded her with a dry look she said huffily, “I’m not! I was just thinking - that’s all.”
“Oh?” asked Wesley, tipping his head to one side, studying Cordelia as he perched on the edge of her desk. “Can I ask about what?”
“You just did,” pointed out Cordelia, leaning back in her chair and sighing inwardly. She really didn’t want to talk with Wesley about Faith. She knew it wouldn’t be anything good but still… he was her friend and she didn’t want to keep anything from him. It wouldn’t be right. “I saw Faith again,” she said, avoiding looking him in the eyes as she did so.
The only reaction Wesley gave was to tense slightly. Then reaching up to adjust his wire rim glasses, he looked at Cordelia earnestly and murmured, “I see. How was it?”
“Very weird,” confessed Cordelia, looking at her computer, hair falling to obscure her features as she spoke. Pushing a few locks past, she said, “I’m still confused, Wesley. I don’t know who she is and I’m starting to think I never did… that none of us did.” Staring at the computer screen, seeing his face reflected in it as he rose to stand behind her, she continued, “I think that maybe I want to know her now but I don’t know why.”
“We help people, Cordelia,” replied Wesley solemnly. “That’s what we do and I rather think that it has, for the most part, become our entire lives. Perhaps when you went to see her you saw a person in need, someone who you knew you could help and you, like Angel before you, want to be there for her. I can’t fault you for that. In fact,” he smiled gently at her, “I find myself admiring you because I’m not quite up to that task as of yet when it involves Faith.”
“No one expects you to,” said Cordelia quickly, turning around to face him. “It’s enough that you’ll talk to me about her. What she did to you…” Trailing off, Cordelia felt a wave of nausea hit her and she whispered, “It makes me think maybe I’m wrong for wanting to help someone who could do that.”
“You say she seems to have changed and Angel, well,” Wesley laughed quietly and shook his head. “He’s been saying it for months, hasn’t he? I do trust your judgment; the both of you, I just find myself unable to interact with her yet. Part of me thinks that if I tried I would only think back onto what she did to me and all the changes you see would slip past my eyes.” Directing his eyes across the length of the hotel lobby, he said, “Better to wait until that has finally left me, I think.”
Unable to reply, Cordelia simply nodded her head and blinked back the tears she knew were forming. It was really too bad Wesley was like a brother to her because he did make quite the catch. Genuinely sensitive men were so hard to find, after all. He gave her another soft smile then excused himself, saying he had a bit of paperwork to attend to and left her alone.
At least, for a few seconds. Then Fred popped out of nowhere, her head appearing over the front counter, a huge smile on her features and a curious look plastered all over her face. “You saw her then?” Fred demanded.
“Saw who?” asked Cordelia even though she knew who Fred was referring to.
“Faith,” said Fred, resting her chin on the tops of her arms and peering at Cordelia with her unbearably curious eyes. At times Fred really reminded her of a precocious child genius. There was something undeniably adorable about Fred and the demeanor she had. The one where she seemed to just want to know everything about everything. Normally Cordelia found it charming in an odd way but today she really didn’t want to deal with it. “You saw her, didn’t you?” Fred continued on as her eyes sparkled now. “How was it? Did she explain things? Or did she just glare at you, all grrrr?”
Arching an eyebrow and wondering exactly whom Fred had spoken with when it came to the dark Slayer, Cordelia said, “She didn’t do any of that.”
“What did she do then?” asked Fred, rising up and down as she stood on her tip toes then lowered herself back down to her heels. From her manner, part of Cordelia thought Fred had a little too much caffeine in her system again. “Was she sexy? Angel showed me pictures of her, she looked sexy in them.”
Cordelia was now gaping at Fred, there was no other word for it. That was all she was capable of doing at this point. Stare at Fred and gape. It took her some time but she regained her senses and cleared her throat then half said and half squeaked out, “He showed you sexy pictures of Faith?”
“Well, a picture of her, I don't think she was trying to be sexy but she still was,” said Fred, frowning as she thought back on it. “I’m not sure where he got it from… it was of her and another woman. She was sexy too. And it was so romantic,” Fred sighed, remembering the picture’s nature. “I think that he’s keeping the photo for her. That and some other things.” Tilting her head to one side, Fred looked at Cordelia. “She doesn’t seem all that bad in the picture. Did she really do all of those terrible things?”
“Yes, she did,” said Cordelia, regaining her bearings and trying to get a hold of herself. What picture? What woman? Why did Angel have Faith’s things in the first place? Obviously she had to have a talk with a certain broody vampire. “I know she regrets it though. That’s why she turned herself in.”
“Uh huh,” Fred nodded her head in agreement although Cordelia was certain Fred that wasn’t sure what she was agreeing with. “Were you friends with her back in Sunnydale?” She piped up suddenly. “You did know her then.”
Blinking at this, Cordelia sputtered, “No… I mean… no. Faith wasn’t really friends with anyone in Sunnydale. She had a crush on Buffy but--“
“Buffy?” Fred repeated with a frown. “You mean Angel’s girlfriend?”
“Angel’s ex-girlfriend,” corrected Cordelia with a sigh. She really hoped she didn’t have to end up explaining the all too complicated personal relationships of everyone in Sunnydale because that could take weeks. “They broke up awhile ago. Before she…” Cordelia trailed off, not wanting to say the words. That was something else she’d have to speak with Faith about. Given the dark Slayer’s feelings for Buffy, she wondered how she was taking her death.
“She died,” supplied Fred, her voice quiet with respect. She didn’t know Buffy but anyone whose death had such a large effect on the people closest to her in the entire world was someone she had to respect.
“Yeah, that,” said Cordelia, swallowing back the emotion she felt at it. She was never close with Buffy, not particularly but still, she was Buffy. That was all there was to it. Even if she had a job as dangerous as being a Slayer, the concept of her not being there, her dying, was completely foreign to all who knew her. Buffy was life and Buffy was happiness, her lying cold in the ground, unable to quip and give a smile… it was painful to think about. Really and truly. “Anyway, Faith had a crush on Buffy. I’m not sure Buffy ever knew. She could’ve been in denial over the whole thing but I could see it pretty clearly and I’m sure Willow knew.” With a roll of her eyes, Cordelia thought back on how jealous Willow had been over Faith and Buffy’s relationship before it combusted. The Slayer ‘thing’ had truly bothered the redhead more than anything and it wasn’t much of a surprise to Cordelia to find out Willow was now batting for the other team. “Yeah," she smirked slightly, "Willow definitely knew.”
“So Faith liked Buffy,” processed Fred, mulling over the information she now had. Faith was the sexy Slayer from the photograph who came to Sunnydale, met Buffy, had a crush on Buffy, then went bad and worked for a demon, was in a coma, woke up, caused more trouble, left Sunnydale, went to L.A., caused even more trouble as she tried to kill Angel and tortured Wesley. Then after all of that, she turned herself into the police for her crimes. Frowning now, Fred bit her lip and tried to analyze the situation. “Buffy never said she liked her back?”
“I don’t know… but I don’t think so,” said Cordelia hesitantly. She wondered what was going through Fred’s mind right about now. The way that her brain worked was totally different than everyone else in the world. That would probably explain why Fred had a genius level intelligence. She approached things from new angles. “Why?”
“That probably hurt her feelings,” said Fred thoughtfully. “If you knew how she felt and that girl, Willow, knew too then Buffy not knowing, well,” Fred gave her anxious quick laugh that she got whenever she figured something out, “I bet Faith thought Buffy was ignoring her feelings on purpose or just plain didn’t care. I’m not an expert but that just might make someone go bad. The idea of the person you love not carin’ one bit about you. Plus when you add in other factors as well…” Fred trailed off and shook her head. “It’s human nature and all.”
“What is?” asked Cordelia blankly, now utterly lost as to what Fred meant.
“Being hurt by others, letting them, and their actions and reactions to control your life and how you do things,” replied Fred easily. She sighed deeply, knowing that she was a victim to it as well. Everyone was on some level. “I’m thinkin’ that Faith knew what she did was wrong, even as she did it, but well… when you’re in a situation like that all you can do is what’s wrong sometimes because it looks like it's your only choice.”
Shaking her head, Cordelia closed her eyes briefly, squeezing them tight at the headache she was developing. She loved Fred, honestly she did, but the woman could be truly frustrating and absolutely confusing at times. “Fred…” she said in soft tones, hoping she didn’t sound totally exasperated. “Why don’t you go spend some time with Gunn? Have him take you out on a date.”
Fred looked at Cordelia as if she were totally insane before she laughed yet again; this time it was a noise of sheer amusement and delight. “Why would I want to go on a date with Wesley’s boyfriend?” Shaking her head at Cordelia, she walked away from the Seer to wander up to her room. “You’re so silly, Cordelia.”
The only response Cordelia had was none at all. Then she snapped out of it and was angry at herself for not figuring out earlier. The complicated slaps of their hands, the cute nicknames, and namely Wesley’s sensitive nature. Added to the fact that they were good men and good men, besides being hard to find, had a knack for being gay and in love with each other. Thus was the circle of life.
---
It wasn’t often that people visited Faith in the library. Sure, it happened almost daily that people came in there to stare and or threaten her, but to visit? No, that was a true rarity in her life. Which is precisely why Faith was surprised to see Veronica walking in with a determined look on her features.
“Ronnie,” said Faith slowly, her expression darkening, “what’s up?”
“Bad news,” replied Veronica as she came to a stop in front of Faith who paused in her daily task of rearranging the shelves in their intended alphabetical order. Leaning slightly on the cart of books, she said with quiet solemnity, “Box hired Low Tax to do the hit.”
Despite herself, Faith jerked backwards and looked at Veronica with a surprised expression, which quickly faded. Turning off to one side, her gaze away from her friend, Faith murmured, “Musta been one hefty bill. That chick don’t work cheap, y’know?”
“The Mafia usually doesn’t,” muttered Veronica nervously. “Look, Slayer, I know you’ve got the super powers gig going on and I appreciate what you’re trying to do. Keeping up with that duty you say you forgot about on the outside and all but… this is Low Tax you’ll be screwing with now. She’s not the same as Box. We know who she works for, hell, it wasn’t even work! Low Tax was like his right hand woman, number one killer, and long lost daughter mixed up in one screwed up package. No one fucks with her!” Directing a solemn gaze at Faith, she added meaningfully, “Not unless they want to end up dead.”
Matching Veronica’s gaze, Faith said simply, “I gotta do this. You know why.”
“Slayer,” Veronica attempted a plea then sighed, shaking her head. “Fine.” Lifting her head, she smiled half heartedly at Faith and said, “Don’t get yourself killed.”
“Now c’mon, Ronnie, would I go and do somethin’ stupid like that?” asked Faith arrogantly, arching an eyebrow and giving her very best smirk. Her expression faded as she looked at the bookshelf in front of her and lightly touched a volume in front of her. “I just gotta wonder what Low Tax is gettin’ outta this, y’know? Never known her to get involved in the shit that goes on in here.”
“You do have that in common with her,” said Veronica wisely, gaining a thoughtful expression. Leaning into the book cart again, she rested her chin in the palm of her hand and continued, “Far as I know, Low Tax never had much interest in increasing her time in the pen. She knows damn well she’s not about to get out, unless her boss pulls some wicked strings… which everyone knows he’s working on right now, so I figure that’s why she’s kept so quiet. Which makes me think that he’s behind this somehow. I mean, Low Tax doesn’t take orders from anyone except her head honcho.” Veronica smirked at Faith and drawled humorously, “Not even her muse.”
“Muse,” Faith snorted, giving Veronica a sardonic look, “y’know, for a straight chick you sure talk the talk of a huge fuckin’ lesbo, Ronnie. Anyway,” she shrugged, taking a book from the cart as she went back to her work while they talked, “why would he order Deac to get hit? It’s not like she’s got any hook ups on the outside he’d care about. Yeah, Low Tax and Deac both come from gangs, you’d gotta say that, but they’re worlds apart. Deac’s people don’t exactly drive around in Mercs and wear Gucci.”
“Then it’s someone else,” said Veronica, her eyes widening a bit. “Someone that maybe her boss owes a favor and they want Deacon out of the picture for whatever reason.”
“Yeah,” said Faith slowly. She ran her fingers down, over the spine of the book, the material soft and familiar on her hands as she looked at the name of the author. “It’s that or maybe somethin’ else.”
“What, Slayer?” asked Veronica, feeling altogether anxious. The last thing she wanted was to get involved in this, in the messy affairs of the prison gangs, but she couldn’t just leave it to Faith alone. They were friends and despite it all, they did understand each other. To Veronica, that was a true rarity, and she had to stick by Faith as a friend due to it. “What are you thinking about?”
Locking her gaze with Veronica’s as she formed a frown, Faith murmured, “Nothin’. I’m hoping that it won’t turn out that way so I won’t say it. Maybe that’ll help somehow.”
“What?” Veronica repeated, blinking at Faith in confusion. Putting her hands on her hips, she scowled deeply and said, “You’re not making any sense, Slayer.”
“Yeah, well, it’s not the first time, huh?” responded Faith with a chuckle, turning back to her work wearing a smile that soon faded as she returned to her previous line of thought.
Faith wasn’t the type to be self absorbed. Part of that is why she went so crazy back then, she hated it… knowing she wasn’t the center of anyone’s world. Knowing that all in all, no one cared, that she didn’t matter. Not at all, not even as a Slayer. Because of this she never tended to think anything was about her.
That’s why she couldn’t fathom the thoughts she was having now. That maybe, Low Tax’s involvement had to do with her. It didn’t make sense really… the Mafia wanting Deacon out of the picture or them owing Box of all people a favor. No, it had to be someone on the outside. Someone big enough to pull some wicked strings that Box just didn’t have. Someone that maybe wanted Faith involved in all this.
---
“You bring me presents?” asked Faith, grinning as she sat down and met Angel’s eyes across the plastic barrier. “C’mon, give. Who’s my author of the moment?”
“Homer,” said Angel, giving into the urge and returning the smile. Faith’s smiles were infectious and he really couldn’t help catching them sometimes. “The Odyssey and the Iliad. I think you’ll enjoy the last one more though. It’s about war.”
“And the other one?” Faith raised an eyebrow at him.
“Water logged road trip from hell,” replied Angel in dry tones.
Snickering at this, Faith shook her head and said, “You got a whacked sense of humor, Dead Boy, you know that, right? But you’re probably on target, I’ll like the war one best.”
They were quiet for a moment then Angel met her eyes, looking at her for a long moment before he said quietly, “How are you?”
“Damn,” muttered Faith, turning away from him. “You really can read a person can’t you? Or is it just me that’s like one of those open books?”
“I’d like to think it’s because I know you,” murmured Angel. “Well,” he said, looking at her still, silently willing for her to talk to him about whatever was bothering her, “what is it?”
“Something’s about to go down,” said Faith finally, looking at him steadily now. “Somethin’ with the gangs. I dunno why… but there’s been a hit put out and the person doing it, she’s not someone to be messed with. I’m thinkin’ I might be the only one around here that has a chance of stoppin’ her, y’know?” Staring down at the table, stretching the fingers of her left hand out and over it, she continued quietly, “I don’t wanna get involved in this. Gangs aren’t my deal. I just wanna do my time, try to make up for all that shit I did so maybe I can get outta here someday and go back to doin’ exactly what I was meant to. But… if I don’t get involved in this, a lotta folks are gonna end up hurt, a lot are gonna die even.” Lifting her gaze to look upon Angel’s solemn features, she finished, “So I figure it’s my duty to stick my nose into this, y’know?”
“Yeah, I think I do,” said Angel softly as he gave a slight smile of comfort. “What are you going to do? Protect the person that’s supposed to be killed?”
“Something like that,” Faith said, averting her eyes from his, hoping the guilt wouldn’t come but knowing full well that it would.
She didn’t want to kill anyone, she never did in the first place, she had just lost control of herself… she knew that now. But this time, she had a choice, screwed up as it was. If it did come down to Low Tax dies or a mess of people do… well, she knew the answer to that. No one was exactly innocent in prison, that was true, but also Faith figured the law of numbers applied in this situation. Low Tax was one person and one was a hell of a lot less than the amount that would suffer if Deacon died.
“Faith,” Angel drew her name out and sighed quietly. Deciding that a lecture really would be pointless and moreover, it wouldn’t do any good in the first place, he said instead, “Be careful and do what you think is right. Let your conscience be your guide.”
Releasing a snort at this, Faith gave an ironic laugh and said, “I gotta wonder if I still have one of those. I think I mighta lost it after all the shit I’ve done.”
“You have one,” said Angel softly, confident as he looked at her steadily, making her meet his gaze and her expression fill with surprise on seeing the regard in which he held her. “If you didn’t then you wouldn’t be feeling the way you are now.”
“Yeah?” Faith swallowed the lump in her throat, her voice hoarse. “And what’s that?”
“Afraid, guilty, nervous over whether or not what you’re doing is really right. Hoping that you can make a difference this time,” Angel continued, speaking everything that was in Faith’s heart and knowing precisely what it was because he felt it too, every day. “All you can do is what you think is right. Let that be your guide, Faith.”
Forming a slow smile, Faith sighed quietly and tilted her head into the phone as she studied Angel’s kind features. “You’re such a fuckin’ softie for a vamp,” she accused. “I gotta wonder why we’re such buds, you bein’ that way and all.”
“You love me because of it,” said Angel lightly, his tone slightly humorous. He leaned back in his chair, sensing that Faith needed a change in topic, his expression turned almost evil, smiling as he said, “I hear that Cordelia visited you again. How did that go?”
The only response Faith had was to sigh in exasperation.
---
Lia Pontiero never much heard her name spoken on the lips of people. In fact, she could really only think of a handful people in her entire life that ever used it frequently. It was a short list to be certain as it consisted of her parents, Sal Zito, his daughter, Mary Angela, and of course, the Boss. They were the only ones who called her Lia and really, they were the only ones who mattered to her when it came down to it.
They were the only ones who knew her, really and truly. Who looked beyond the rough surface and saw her heart. Sal said she was a good kid, mixed up and a little confused when he first took her to the Boss. She remembered what the Boss said in reply, she could never forget. He said, “Not anymore. No one I look out for is.”
Everything changed after that. She devoted her life, herself, to the Boss and what he wanted. Because he was the one who rescued her, he was the one who took care of her, and most of all, he was the first one to really care about her after her parents died. That’s why she was in here. She protected the Boss, taking the fall to the Feds, and she would stay in here until he got her out. Till then, she wouldn’t be hearing her real name being spoken very much because no one here used it. No one here was allowed to.
Anyone who called her Low Tax wasn’t someone important to her. They were just potential prey. Someone, given the price or the order from the Boss, she’d turn on as easy as a dime. That even included the girl who was walking towards her now, eyes powerful, almost burning into her as she continued in her work out in the yard, acting as if she didn’t notice that stare or the person behind it.
But that’s all it was, acting. Because she, like most people in this place, couldn’t deny the Slayer’s presence when it came right down to it. There was something about the girl that was unnerving. A sense of power, strength, and it made Low Tax wonder why she didn’t use it to improve her position here. To take the place over instead of hiding away in the library stacks and ignoring most of the prison politics.
Still, maybe she wasn’t totally aloof to what went on. Why else would she be standing here now? Next to her weight bench as Low Tax continued to lift, her gaze looking up at the sky, not bothering to glance the Slayer’s way.
“Slayer,” said Low Tax in her low drawl, husky voice full of a glimpse danger. “You don’t like to socialize and neither do I. Lets not play games then. What do you want?”
“I know Box hired you to take out Deacon,” said Faith simply, agreeing with Low Tax that it was best not to play games and get right to the heart of the matter.
“And…?” drawled Low Tax again, a hint of a smile playing on her lips. She allowed the weight bar to fall with a clank against its rest and ducking her head under and around it, sat up slowly to look into the Slayer’s dark eyes that matched her own. Pushing a lock of short black hair from her forehead, she murmured, “It’s business, Slayer. I thought that you knew enough not to get into other people’s business. Especially mine.”
“I guess you thought wrong,” replied Faith in hard tones, her gaze even and unwavering as she matched Low Tax’s. She had faced what, to her, was the devil itself and she had seen him tear everything she loved to pieces, so she was damned if she would ever be scared of some two bit Mafia Princess who carried a pistol. “You know it’s gonna cause a lot of bad shit, takin’ Deacon out. Why do it? I doubt Box is payin’ you enough.”
“It’s not about pay,” Low Tax said, not sure why she was telling the Slayer anything. There was something about this girl though. The look in her eyes maybe, it reminded her of times long past… being lost before Sal found her and took her to the Boss. What was it Mary Angela always said? That life had a crossroads and depending on which way you took, everything was decided. Shit… this girl was making her philosophical. Rising to her feet, she smirked at how she towered over the Slayer. How young was she really? It was hard to tell. She still looked like a kid. “It’s a matter of honor, you understand.”
“Not really,” Faith growled, staring Low Tax down. “I don’t wanna do this, y’know. The last thing I want is a throw down with you but if that’s what it comes to, then that’s how it’s gonna be because I’m not lettin’ you off Deacon, that’s for sure.”
Blinking at Faith’s words, Low Tax laughed quietly but her volume increased and when she was finished and Faith was feeling altogether pissed at her reaction, she said, “You say whatever you like, don’t you, Slayer?”
“When it’s important,” acknowledged Faith, keeping her gaze steady. “Well?”
“Tell you what,” said Low Tax with a small smile that barely tugged at the edges of her lips. “We can make a deal. You give me what I want and I’ll forget all about Deacon.”
Immediately, Faith’s expression turned to surprise only to quickly darken. She clenched her jaw, restraining her rage as she bit the words out, “Fine. When do you want to do it?”
“Slayer,” Low Tax laughed again, shaking her head now. The taller woman sighed deeply, folding her arms across her tall frame in a smooth catlike motion. “You know, you’re starting to disappoint me. I don’t care about your body, although it is nice,” she paused to smirk. “No, I’m more interested in your potential.”
“Potential?” echoed Faith, frowning at Low Tax. No one talked with this lady, no one. So that meant no one really knew what she was like and Faith was starting to find out that a key part of Low Tax’s personality was causing others to get confused.
“Join me,” said Low Tax in low husky tones that reverberated with promise and excitement at the prospect. “You’d fit into the organization perfectly and together we’d own the prison. No one could stand against us, you know that.”
“Yeah,” said Faith slowly, her frown increasing. She looked away from Low Tax, across the yard and at Deacon who had been watching their entire exchange.
Distantly, she still heard Low Tax speaking to her. Saying that if she joined her, Deacon would be safe, and she would be too. That the Boss would take care of her, just like he did for Low Tax. That it was a better life, really it was. It was then that Faith realized she heard these words before, from the lips of the Mayor, and she wasn’t about to repeat her mistakes of the past. Not while she was in here to redeem for them.
“Not happening,” Faith answered, turning to meet Low Tax’s gaze as time appeared to slow. She watched Low Tax form a surprised look that faded into her usual unreadable face as Faith said, “I won’t do it… not again. If that means you’re gonna keep your deal with Box and take out Deacon, well,” Faith gave her best confident smirk and continued on, “I’m just gonna have to stop you.”
With that, Faith turned on her heel and walked away, feeling Low Tax’s eyes burn into her just as Low Tax had felt her own stare just minutes before. Watching Faith go, Low Tax smiled to herself and murmured, “Good luck trying, Slayer.”
---
Lately it seemed to Lilah Morgan that her days were getting longer and longer. She wasn’t quite sure if it was her harried lifestyle or her increased workload that made her think that way but still, there it was. Frankly, Lilah was getting sick of her job and all of the ‘people’ that surrounded her there.
Now would be a great time for a vacation, in her humble opinion.
That happening wasn’t very likely though. Not with all of the projects she was involved in and the fact that a vacation hadn’t been approved for her. And at Wolfram and Hart, well, it was a good idea to get everything you did approved. Unless you had a death wish, that is. Lilah definitely didn’t have one of those.
Sighing as she dropped into her plush Italian leather chair, Lilah spun around and stared out at the L.A. cityscape. It was almost pretty, the sunset making the city less dismal to a person who knew far better than to see it as anything but. Resting her head back as she felt her eyes droop, Lilah almost missed the shrill ringing of her cell phone.
Almost but not quite.
Giving another sigh, Lilah turned slightly, not looking back as she grasped for her phone, answering it with a bitchy, “Lilah Morgan. What do you want?” Seconds after saying this, Lilah straightened up in her chair, her eyes widening. “Oh, it’s you! I didn’t expect to hear from you so soon. Well? How did it go?” Lilah asked now, regaining her former position of a lazy panther as she sunk into her chair. Chuckling at their response, Lilah watched the pink and peach of the skyline and murmured, “She is stubborn. I suppose you’ll just have to go through with our original plan then.” Pausing now, Lilah’s voice gained a coy tone as she continued, “Unless you want to give it another try?”
Another pause and Lilah was chuckling again, tapping her beautifully painted nails on the armrest of her chair. “Mm, I had thought as much. You don’t have the patience for negotiation. That’s all right,” Lilah purred now, a smile spreading on her lips. “I think I’ll handle that aspect of the plan, if you wouldn’t mind. Ahhh,” Lilah chuckled, shaking her index finger at her conversation partner, “you’re bad. No wonder I’m so fond of you.”
“Well,” Lilah turned in her chair, facing her desk and smiling still, “I do thank you for the call, Lia. It’s rare that we get to chat these days and I must say I miss your company.” A moment of silence and Lilah grimaced slightly before she said, “Yes, call you Low Tax, of course I remember. I had just thought… well, that’s fine then. Goodbye.”
Hanging up the phone, Lilah’s grimace turned into a scowl of annoyance and pushing several stray locks of hair back in an elegant gesture, she muttered, “Mafia assassins. I don’t know who’s worse. Them or actual blood sucking demons. At least the latter has some version of standards when it comes to what they eat.”
Heaving yet another sigh then spinning around in her chair to face the dwindling sunset, Lilah smiled slowly and murmured, “It’s fine though. Because of her I’m going to get what I’ve wanted for a very long time indeed.”
---
For as long as Cordelia could remember the thing she hated most was waiting. She wasn't the type to just sit around and wait for things to happen. No, she was a doer. It was just in her personality to want action and if there wasn't action, well, she damn well caused it. After all, anything was better than waiting around for things to happen.
Maybe that's why she was getting so fidgety as she waited to be let into see Faith. Bad enough she had no idea why she came back yet again, other than the obscure promise she'd made to do so, but the waiting to see her, that just made it worse. Cordelia hated waiting partially because it gave you time to think about your actions or what you were about to do. And sometimes she just didn't want to do that.
Especially when she stopped to think every answer she came up with told her what she was doing made absolutely no sense and she should stop it right now. Yet, she was still here, looking at Officer Sally who arched an eyebrow at her as she smirked.
"Ready to see her?" inquired Sally with a drawl. "She's all ready to see you. Even been looking forward to it, I expect. How about you? Do you feel the same?"
"I'm here," Cordelia answered, her eyes lidded as she stared at Sally. She wasn't sure if she wanted to keep coming back if she got interrogated by this lady every time.
"Uh huh," said Sally, giving a snort. Leading Cordelia into the visiting room, she turned to face her while Cordelia stared at the waiting figure of Faith. "Try and stay that way."
Sally then turned and walked away as Cordelia walked over to Faith, sitting down and picking up the phone. The Slayer wore a confused expression, apparently lost about whatever had occurred between guard and Cordelia. "What's up?" she asked.
"She cares about you," said Cordelia dryly.
Flushing a bit, Faith looked off to one side and murmured, "Sally's cool. She's like that with a lotta people, the few that get their heads screwed on right. One of the few honest people workin' in this place, y'know? I sorta wonder why she's not a cop."
"Flunked the exam?" suggested Cordelia with a slight smirk, causing Faith to chuckle then tilt her head at the other woman. "I came back," she said after a moment of silence.
"Yeah," said Faith quietly, looking slightly surprised at the situation as she spoke, "you did." Smiling now, she leaned in her seat and continued, "I gotta admit, I didn't think you would keep your promise, stretch. I mean, a promise to me, what sorta promise is that?"
"A promise is a promise," Cordelia murmured, meeting Faith's eyes steadily. "I always keep mine. No matter who I make them to. Besides," she smirked and tapped on the plastic separating them, "haven't I already told you that you're nowhere as bad as you seem to think you are? And not to call me stretch?" she tagged on with a teasing frown.
"Keep sayin' that after you visit me a few more times," retorted Faith with a snort. Dark eyes inspected Cordelia and she said quietly, "I could be foolin' you. This could be some sorta act. How do you know that's not true?"
"Angel," said Cordelia, reminding Faith of their mutual friend as the Slayer's face darkened on remembering her relationship with him. Of course that was the reason why Cordelia came back, that Cordelia had any sort of trust for her. "Also," Cordelia said as she watched the transformation on the Slayer's face and not liking it one bit, "my own eyes. I can see you feel guilty about what you did, Faith. I can even see that you've changed, that you want to make up for all you've done. That's how I know this isn't some sort of act and that's also how I know something's bothering you now."
Jerking her head back, Faith looked at Cordelia with surprise then sighed. Turning back to the Seer, she murmured, "You're a pretty observant chick."
"I work for a death filled detective agency and I get mind numbingly painful visions," reminded Cordelia, arching an eyebrow. "I think that I should get some good things out of the deal, including some degree of observational skills." She studied Faith for a moment longer then asked, "What's going on?"
"I already told Angel," said Faith absently as if she meant to use this for some type of excuse. Turning away from Cordelia, she closed her eyes, recalling his belief in her and her ability to choose the right solution for the situation she was in.
"Then it won't be a big deal telling me too," replied Cordelia easily. When Faith kept her gaze away from her, she sighed and tapped on the plastic with her painted fingernails. A pair of dark eyes met her and Cordelia smiled softly on seeing them. "Please?"
Releasing a short bark of laughter, Faith returned the smile, small as it was, and leaned into the phone as she murmured, "You know what strings to pull, don't you?"
"No avoiding," Cordelia commanded, matching Faith's gaze, "just tell me what's wrong."
"Stretch… I can’t tell you," said Faith reluctantly, looking quietly back to Sally then towards where she knew a hidden video camera was. “Just ask Angel, huh?”
“Okay,” said Cordelia softly, knowing somehow she shouldn’t argue with the other girl about this. “I promise I’ll ask him.” They were silent for a moment then Cordelia sighed and asked with a wry smile, “Anything else to tell me?”
Smirking at this, Faith leaned into the phone and her dark eyes traced over Cordelia’s features before she murmured, “I’m glad you came back, y’know.” She paused and gave a chuckle at Cordelia’s light blush. “Real glad.”
“I said I would,” replied Cordelia simply.
“Yeah,” Faith smiled again, studying Cordelia, “you did.” Releasing a snort, she shook her head and said, “I saw my shrink this week…he said the same as you.”
“Mmm, I told you, trust issues abounds,” Cordelia drew the words out, smiling widely at Faith who rolled her eyes at the taller girl.
“Somethin’ about you told me that you’d brag when you’re right about stuff,” Faith commented causing Cordelia to pout at this statement.
(This is where I stopped writing.)
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 Two...
Faith was pretty sure that after getting herself involved in a potential gang war all because she was sticking her nose into stuff she had long promised she wouldn’t there was nothing else that could surprise her for the day. Then Sally came to her cell to inform her that she had a visitor.
Staring at the figure who sat across the plastic shield from her, Faith picked up the phone as she furrowed her brow and said dimly, “You came back.”
“Thank you, Captain Obvious,” said Cordelia in droll tones. “If our little talk continues like this then I just know I’m going to be filled with sparkly amusement.”
“Why did you come back?” asked Faith softly, genuinely puzzled over the situation. Her expression fell, face darkening as she looked off to one side and said, “He’s not comin’ again, is he? Y’know… if he doesn’t wanna come at all, he doesn’t have to. I’m grateful to the guy and all but I don’t want to be some pity case so--“
“Faith,” interrupted Cordelia quickly, surprised at how quickly the Slayer had assumed Angel didn’t want to visit her anymore, “it isn’t that.”
A long moment passed as Faith studied Cordelia with sharp eyes that drew over the planes of her face, trying to determine if the other woman was telling her the truth. “You mean it?” she said finally, her voice sounding small.
“Yes,” said Cordelia with nod. Again, this wasn’t what she expected. Not that she was expecting much of anything this time around. But she didn’t think right off she would once again see proof that Faith had changed. The girl that she had known… or at least seen before in Sunnydale would never allow anyone to view her as vulnerable as that. Especially not Cordelia. “The case is finished with and he’ll be in here next week, books in clammy vampire hands.” Cordelia frowned, scrunching up her nose as she tilted her head to one side, “I hope you don’t expect me to have any for you now. The only thing I have that’s close to reading material is an old copy of Vogue in my car.”
“No thanks,” said Faith with a drawl, calming down on realizing that her only real friend on the outside was still there for her when she needed him. Now the real question was, if Angel was coming to visit her then why exactly was Cordelia here right now? “So,” Faith inspected Cordelia with dark eyes, “what’s up? Why did you come back to visit the big bad Slayer stuck in the big house?”
“I happen to be here because I want to talk with you,” replied Cordelia, ignoring Faith’s attitude the best she could, but having a snippy reaction despite herself.
“About what?” asked Faith a little suspiciously. She couldn’t figure out for the life of her why Cordelia was here. Out of everyone she had done wrong the list for Cordelia was pretty short. Yes, she tortured Wesley and she tried to kill Angel, two good friends of hers, but all she had actually done to Cordelia herself was punch her. And that wasn’t special, Faith happened to punch a lot of people. It was really nothing personal. “I already apologized to you once so if you’re here to get me to beg forgiveness or some shit then you better get ready to be disappointed, stretch.”
“First of all, don’t call me stretch,” began Cordelia huffily as she narrowed her eyes and leaned back in her seat, “second of all, I’m not here to get another stupid apology. I couldn’t care less about that. Third of all…” Cordelia trailed off and paused to look slightly sheepish as her brain caught up with her always active mouth. “I don’t have a third of all,” she admitted.
The expression Faith wore on her face was a mixture of wariness and incredulity. She was pretty good at figuring people out but for the life of her she didn't have a clue about what Cordelia could possibly want from her. “What do you want to talk to me about?” she asked in a quiet demand, preparing for the worst.
"I…" Cordelia was at a loss for how to word why she was there. She knew in her heart why she was in the prison, visiting Faith again, but explaining it in a way where she didn't sound like a total idiot? Well… that was a tad difficult. "I've been thinking about what you told me last week. The reason why you've done everything you have."
"Yeah?" said Faith, her face unreadable as she stared at Cordelia with brown eyes that darkened into black from their sheer intensity. "What've you been thinkin'?"
"That I can maybe understand a little of why you acted that way," murmured Cordelia honestly, searching Faith's expression for some sign that the Slayer was truly listening to her. She found it in the slight widening of Faith's eyes as they looked at one another. "I never really loved anyone before Xander," she confessed wryly. Laughing now, she tilted her head, leaning into the phone as she spoke. "And if you don't know how that went, he cheated on me and we broke up. Having trust issues but still wanting to have someone really and truly love you is something I definitely have experience in."
"Who says I got trust issues?" asked Faith gruffly, scowling at Cordelia. So what if she was being polite… she didn't want some ex-cheerleader she barely knew analyzing her personality like some sort of hot Dr. Laura.
"Please," Cordelia rolled her eyes, "don't even start with me. You're not that scary, you know. In fact," hazel eyes narrowed and Cordelia studied Faith closely before forming a slow smile, "you're kind of cute in orange."
Faith arched an eyebrow and wondering if Cordelia had just flirted with her only to dismiss the thought with a shake of her head. "Don't make me break the plastic and come after you, stretch," she warned, her voice echoing with slight amusement.
"I told you not to call me that," Cordelia reminded in offended yet humorous tones. Reaching out, she tapped on the glass with an elegantly painted fingernail. "Besides, if you were really going to break the plastic I don't think you'd warn me first."
"Running start," drawled Faith with a smirk, leaning back in her chair and resting the phone on her shoulder. "I gotta give you one. Wouldn't be fair if I didn't."
They were silent for a moment and Faith froze as she met Cordelia's hazel eyes that were looking warmly at her. No one had looked at her like that. Not since…
Observing Faith wince painfully and her formerly happy expression darken, making her look years older than she actually was, Cordelia said softly, "Faith? What is it?"
"Why are you here?" asked Faith finally, staring Cordelia down. Her voice was rough as she continued on, "The real reason. No bullshit this time."
Drawing backwards from the strength of Faith's voice, the conviction that lay inside it, Cordelia ducked her head, looking at the counter for a long while. When she lifted her head and looked at the Slayer again, Cordelia whispered, sounding lost, "I don't know. Honestly I don't. I just wanted to see you… talk to you. Maybe so I can understand."
"Understand what? Why I'm such a murdering psycho loser?" Faith snarled, jerking backwards and preparing to hang up the phone on Cordelia.
"No!" Cordelia exclaimed loudly. So loudly that several prisoners and visitors cast looks their way and the nearest guard stepped closer to Faith. It also caused Faith herself to pause in her movement and freeze in her chair to meet Cordelia's eyes again. "I want to understand why everything's happened the way it has."
"Cordelia…" said Faith in wondering tones, sighing to herself as she ran her fingers through her thick and messy hair. "There's nothin' to understand. I was screwed up then, I didn't get how things really were and I hurt a lotta people. I'm in here to try and make up for it the only way that I know how. That's all you gotta know."
"No," Cordelia repeated, shaking her head, "it isn't."
Raising an eyebrow and wearing a clearly skeptical expression, Faith asked, "What else is there to wanna know? Tell me that."
"You," replied Cordelia simply. "I want to know you. The real you, not the Slayer, not the ultra slut, not the murdering psycho - I want to know Faith Spencer."
Gaping at Cordelia for what seemed like an eternity, Faith finally regained enough of her senses to clear her throat then ask in husky tones, "Why?"
"I already told you why," Cordelia smirked at Faith, tapping her fingernail on the plastic again. Her smirk widened as she said, "I want to understand."
Shaking her head in disbelief, Faith looked ready to reply when she looked back at the guard and her expression dropped before she nodded her head. Facing Cordelia with a look of disappointment, she said, "Time's up." She started to rise to her feet but stopped in her motion, something occurring to her as she moved. Looking Cordelia right in the eyes, Faith's gaze was dark and almost pleading. "You'll come back?"
"Yes," Cordelia was replying before she even realized what she was saying.
A wide smile spread across Faith's features as she walked away with the guard and despite herself, Cordelia couldn't stop herself from returning it. Or the warm feeling that filled her entire being from just seeing it directed at her. She did, however, fail to think about why that was. Most likely because she wouldn't like the answer.
---
Cordelia sat at her desk, looking at the computer but not really typing. She was thinking about her trip to see Faith and her promise to come back. Something in her really did want to see the other woman again; she just didn’t know exactly why she felt that way.
She couldn’t hate Faith anymore. Not that she really ever did hate her… she didn’t approve of what she did, certainly, but most of what happened didn’t deal with her precisely. Part of her was still angry, yes, over what Faith had done to Wesley and Angel, but another part wasn’t. Another part could see the pain in those dark eyes and she wanted to help soothe it.
But Cordelia had absolutely no idea why this was.
Maybe she had more of a mothering instinct than she ever thought. That could have to do with her reaction, certainly, but somehow she doubted that. So with a sigh, Cordelia stared blankly at her computer monitor and continued not typing.
That’s when a warm hand clasped her shoulder and she jumped in the air on feeling it. Whirling around, Cordelia came face to face with Wesley who wore a wry expression on his features due to her reaction. “Sorry to surprise you,” he said, his lips quirking up in a smile, “I hadn’t realized you were so distracted.”
“I’m not distracted,” Cordelia replied rather indignantly. When Wesley rewarded her with a dry look she said huffily, “I’m not! I was just thinking - that’s all.”
“Oh?” asked Wesley, tipping his head to one side, studying Cordelia as he perched on the edge of her desk. “Can I ask about what?”
“You just did,” pointed out Cordelia, leaning back in her chair and sighing inwardly. She really didn’t want to talk with Wesley about Faith. She knew it wouldn’t be anything good but still… he was her friend and she didn’t want to keep anything from him. It wouldn’t be right. “I saw Faith again,” she said, avoiding looking him in the eyes as she did so.
The only reaction Wesley gave was to tense slightly. Then reaching up to adjust his wire rim glasses, he looked at Cordelia earnestly and murmured, “I see. How was it?”
“Very weird,” confessed Cordelia, looking at her computer, hair falling to obscure her features as she spoke. Pushing a few locks past, she said, “I’m still confused, Wesley. I don’t know who she is and I’m starting to think I never did… that none of us did.” Staring at the computer screen, seeing his face reflected in it as he rose to stand behind her, she continued, “I think that maybe I want to know her now but I don’t know why.”
“We help people, Cordelia,” replied Wesley solemnly. “That’s what we do and I rather think that it has, for the most part, become our entire lives. Perhaps when you went to see her you saw a person in need, someone who you knew you could help and you, like Angel before you, want to be there for her. I can’t fault you for that. In fact,” he smiled gently at her, “I find myself admiring you because I’m not quite up to that task as of yet when it involves Faith.”
“No one expects you to,” said Cordelia quickly, turning around to face him. “It’s enough that you’ll talk to me about her. What she did to you…” Trailing off, Cordelia felt a wave of nausea hit her and she whispered, “It makes me think maybe I’m wrong for wanting to help someone who could do that.”
“You say she seems to have changed and Angel, well,” Wesley laughed quietly and shook his head. “He’s been saying it for months, hasn’t he? I do trust your judgment; the both of you, I just find myself unable to interact with her yet. Part of me thinks that if I tried I would only think back onto what she did to me and all the changes you see would slip past my eyes.” Directing his eyes across the length of the hotel lobby, he said, “Better to wait until that has finally left me, I think.”
Unable to reply, Cordelia simply nodded her head and blinked back the tears she knew were forming. It was really too bad Wesley was like a brother to her because he did make quite the catch. Genuinely sensitive men were so hard to find, after all. He gave her another soft smile then excused himself, saying he had a bit of paperwork to attend to and left her alone.
At least, for a few seconds. Then Fred popped out of nowhere, her head appearing over the front counter, a huge smile on her features and a curious look plastered all over her face. “You saw her then?” Fred demanded.
“Saw who?” asked Cordelia even though she knew who Fred was referring to.
“Faith,” said Fred, resting her chin on the tops of her arms and peering at Cordelia with her unbearably curious eyes. At times Fred really reminded her of a precocious child genius. There was something undeniably adorable about Fred and the demeanor she had. The one where she seemed to just want to know everything about everything. Normally Cordelia found it charming in an odd way but today she really didn’t want to deal with it. “You saw her, didn’t you?” Fred continued on as her eyes sparkled now. “How was it? Did she explain things? Or did she just glare at you, all grrrr?”
Arching an eyebrow and wondering exactly whom Fred had spoken with when it came to the dark Slayer, Cordelia said, “She didn’t do any of that.”
“What did she do then?” asked Fred, rising up and down as she stood on her tip toes then lowered herself back down to her heels. From her manner, part of Cordelia thought Fred had a little too much caffeine in her system again. “Was she sexy? Angel showed me pictures of her, she looked sexy in them.”
Cordelia was now gaping at Fred, there was no other word for it. That was all she was capable of doing at this point. Stare at Fred and gape. It took her some time but she regained her senses and cleared her throat then half said and half squeaked out, “He showed you sexy pictures of Faith?”
“Well, a picture of her, I don't think she was trying to be sexy but she still was,” said Fred, frowning as she thought back on it. “I’m not sure where he got it from… it was of her and another woman. She was sexy too. And it was so romantic,” Fred sighed, remembering the picture’s nature. “I think that he’s keeping the photo for her. That and some other things.” Tilting her head to one side, Fred looked at Cordelia. “She doesn’t seem all that bad in the picture. Did she really do all of those terrible things?”
“Yes, she did,” said Cordelia, regaining her bearings and trying to get a hold of herself. What picture? What woman? Why did Angel have Faith’s things in the first place? Obviously she had to have a talk with a certain broody vampire. “I know she regrets it though. That’s why she turned herself in.”
“Uh huh,” Fred nodded her head in agreement although Cordelia was certain Fred that wasn’t sure what she was agreeing with. “Were you friends with her back in Sunnydale?” She piped up suddenly. “You did know her then.”
Blinking at this, Cordelia sputtered, “No… I mean… no. Faith wasn’t really friends with anyone in Sunnydale. She had a crush on Buffy but--“
“Buffy?” Fred repeated with a frown. “You mean Angel’s girlfriend?”
“Angel’s ex-girlfriend,” corrected Cordelia with a sigh. She really hoped she didn’t have to end up explaining the all too complicated personal relationships of everyone in Sunnydale because that could take weeks. “They broke up awhile ago. Before she…” Cordelia trailed off, not wanting to say the words. That was something else she’d have to speak with Faith about. Given the dark Slayer’s feelings for Buffy, she wondered how she was taking her death.
“She died,” supplied Fred, her voice quiet with respect. She didn’t know Buffy but anyone whose death had such a large effect on the people closest to her in the entire world was someone she had to respect.
“Yeah, that,” said Cordelia, swallowing back the emotion she felt at it. She was never close with Buffy, not particularly but still, she was Buffy. That was all there was to it. Even if she had a job as dangerous as being a Slayer, the concept of her not being there, her dying, was completely foreign to all who knew her. Buffy was life and Buffy was happiness, her lying cold in the ground, unable to quip and give a smile… it was painful to think about. Really and truly. “Anyway, Faith had a crush on Buffy. I’m not sure Buffy ever knew. She could’ve been in denial over the whole thing but I could see it pretty clearly and I’m sure Willow knew.” With a roll of her eyes, Cordelia thought back on how jealous Willow had been over Faith and Buffy’s relationship before it combusted. The Slayer ‘thing’ had truly bothered the redhead more than anything and it wasn’t much of a surprise to Cordelia to find out Willow was now batting for the other team. “Yeah," she smirked slightly, "Willow definitely knew.”
“So Faith liked Buffy,” processed Fred, mulling over the information she now had. Faith was the sexy Slayer from the photograph who came to Sunnydale, met Buffy, had a crush on Buffy, then went bad and worked for a demon, was in a coma, woke up, caused more trouble, left Sunnydale, went to L.A., caused even more trouble as she tried to kill Angel and tortured Wesley. Then after all of that, she turned herself into the police for her crimes. Frowning now, Fred bit her lip and tried to analyze the situation. “Buffy never said she liked her back?”
“I don’t know… but I don’t think so,” said Cordelia hesitantly. She wondered what was going through Fred’s mind right about now. The way that her brain worked was totally different than everyone else in the world. That would probably explain why Fred had a genius level intelligence. She approached things from new angles. “Why?”
“That probably hurt her feelings,” said Fred thoughtfully. “If you knew how she felt and that girl, Willow, knew too then Buffy not knowing, well,” Fred gave her anxious quick laugh that she got whenever she figured something out, “I bet Faith thought Buffy was ignoring her feelings on purpose or just plain didn’t care. I’m not an expert but that just might make someone go bad. The idea of the person you love not carin’ one bit about you. Plus when you add in other factors as well…” Fred trailed off and shook her head. “It’s human nature and all.”
“What is?” asked Cordelia blankly, now utterly lost as to what Fred meant.
“Being hurt by others, letting them, and their actions and reactions to control your life and how you do things,” replied Fred easily. She sighed deeply, knowing that she was a victim to it as well. Everyone was on some level. “I’m thinkin’ that Faith knew what she did was wrong, even as she did it, but well… when you’re in a situation like that all you can do is what’s wrong sometimes because it looks like it's your only choice.”
Shaking her head, Cordelia closed her eyes briefly, squeezing them tight at the headache she was developing. She loved Fred, honestly she did, but the woman could be truly frustrating and absolutely confusing at times. “Fred…” she said in soft tones, hoping she didn’t sound totally exasperated. “Why don’t you go spend some time with Gunn? Have him take you out on a date.”
Fred looked at Cordelia as if she were totally insane before she laughed yet again; this time it was a noise of sheer amusement and delight. “Why would I want to go on a date with Wesley’s boyfriend?” Shaking her head at Cordelia, she walked away from the Seer to wander up to her room. “You’re so silly, Cordelia.”
The only response Cordelia had was none at all. Then she snapped out of it and was angry at herself for not figuring out earlier. The complicated slaps of their hands, the cute nicknames, and namely Wesley’s sensitive nature. Added to the fact that they were good men and good men, besides being hard to find, had a knack for being gay and in love with each other. Thus was the circle of life.
---
It wasn’t often that people visited Faith in the library. Sure, it happened almost daily that people came in there to stare and or threaten her, but to visit? No, that was a true rarity in her life. Which is precisely why Faith was surprised to see Veronica walking in with a determined look on her features.
“Ronnie,” said Faith slowly, her expression darkening, “what’s up?”
“Bad news,” replied Veronica as she came to a stop in front of Faith who paused in her daily task of rearranging the shelves in their intended alphabetical order. Leaning slightly on the cart of books, she said with quiet solemnity, “Box hired Low Tax to do the hit.”
Despite herself, Faith jerked backwards and looked at Veronica with a surprised expression, which quickly faded. Turning off to one side, her gaze away from her friend, Faith murmured, “Musta been one hefty bill. That chick don’t work cheap, y’know?”
“The Mafia usually doesn’t,” muttered Veronica nervously. “Look, Slayer, I know you’ve got the super powers gig going on and I appreciate what you’re trying to do. Keeping up with that duty you say you forgot about on the outside and all but… this is Low Tax you’ll be screwing with now. She’s not the same as Box. We know who she works for, hell, it wasn’t even work! Low Tax was like his right hand woman, number one killer, and long lost daughter mixed up in one screwed up package. No one fucks with her!” Directing a solemn gaze at Faith, she added meaningfully, “Not unless they want to end up dead.”
Matching Veronica’s gaze, Faith said simply, “I gotta do this. You know why.”
“Slayer,” Veronica attempted a plea then sighed, shaking her head. “Fine.” Lifting her head, she smiled half heartedly at Faith and said, “Don’t get yourself killed.”
“Now c’mon, Ronnie, would I go and do somethin’ stupid like that?” asked Faith arrogantly, arching an eyebrow and giving her very best smirk. Her expression faded as she looked at the bookshelf in front of her and lightly touched a volume in front of her. “I just gotta wonder what Low Tax is gettin’ outta this, y’know? Never known her to get involved in the shit that goes on in here.”
“You do have that in common with her,” said Veronica wisely, gaining a thoughtful expression. Leaning into the book cart again, she rested her chin in the palm of her hand and continued, “Far as I know, Low Tax never had much interest in increasing her time in the pen. She knows damn well she’s not about to get out, unless her boss pulls some wicked strings… which everyone knows he’s working on right now, so I figure that’s why she’s kept so quiet. Which makes me think that he’s behind this somehow. I mean, Low Tax doesn’t take orders from anyone except her head honcho.” Veronica smirked at Faith and drawled humorously, “Not even her muse.”
“Muse,” Faith snorted, giving Veronica a sardonic look, “y’know, for a straight chick you sure talk the talk of a huge fuckin’ lesbo, Ronnie. Anyway,” she shrugged, taking a book from the cart as she went back to her work while they talked, “why would he order Deac to get hit? It’s not like she’s got any hook ups on the outside he’d care about. Yeah, Low Tax and Deac both come from gangs, you’d gotta say that, but they’re worlds apart. Deac’s people don’t exactly drive around in Mercs and wear Gucci.”
“Then it’s someone else,” said Veronica, her eyes widening a bit. “Someone that maybe her boss owes a favor and they want Deacon out of the picture for whatever reason.”
“Yeah,” said Faith slowly. She ran her fingers down, over the spine of the book, the material soft and familiar on her hands as she looked at the name of the author. “It’s that or maybe somethin’ else.”
“What, Slayer?” asked Veronica, feeling altogether anxious. The last thing she wanted was to get involved in this, in the messy affairs of the prison gangs, but she couldn’t just leave it to Faith alone. They were friends and despite it all, they did understand each other. To Veronica, that was a true rarity, and she had to stick by Faith as a friend due to it. “What are you thinking about?”
Locking her gaze with Veronica’s as she formed a frown, Faith murmured, “Nothin’. I’m hoping that it won’t turn out that way so I won’t say it. Maybe that’ll help somehow.”
“What?” Veronica repeated, blinking at Faith in confusion. Putting her hands on her hips, she scowled deeply and said, “You’re not making any sense, Slayer.”
“Yeah, well, it’s not the first time, huh?” responded Faith with a chuckle, turning back to her work wearing a smile that soon faded as she returned to her previous line of thought.
Faith wasn’t the type to be self absorbed. Part of that is why she went so crazy back then, she hated it… knowing she wasn’t the center of anyone’s world. Knowing that all in all, no one cared, that she didn’t matter. Not at all, not even as a Slayer. Because of this she never tended to think anything was about her.
That’s why she couldn’t fathom the thoughts she was having now. That maybe, Low Tax’s involvement had to do with her. It didn’t make sense really… the Mafia wanting Deacon out of the picture or them owing Box of all people a favor. No, it had to be someone on the outside. Someone big enough to pull some wicked strings that Box just didn’t have. Someone that maybe wanted Faith involved in all this.
---
“You bring me presents?” asked Faith, grinning as she sat down and met Angel’s eyes across the plastic barrier. “C’mon, give. Who’s my author of the moment?”
“Homer,” said Angel, giving into the urge and returning the smile. Faith’s smiles were infectious and he really couldn’t help catching them sometimes. “The Odyssey and the Iliad. I think you’ll enjoy the last one more though. It’s about war.”
“And the other one?” Faith raised an eyebrow at him.
“Water logged road trip from hell,” replied Angel in dry tones.
Snickering at this, Faith shook her head and said, “You got a whacked sense of humor, Dead Boy, you know that, right? But you’re probably on target, I’ll like the war one best.”
They were quiet for a moment then Angel met her eyes, looking at her for a long moment before he said quietly, “How are you?”
“Damn,” muttered Faith, turning away from him. “You really can read a person can’t you? Or is it just me that’s like one of those open books?”
“I’d like to think it’s because I know you,” murmured Angel. “Well,” he said, looking at her still, silently willing for her to talk to him about whatever was bothering her, “what is it?”
“Something’s about to go down,” said Faith finally, looking at him steadily now. “Somethin’ with the gangs. I dunno why… but there’s been a hit put out and the person doing it, she’s not someone to be messed with. I’m thinkin’ I might be the only one around here that has a chance of stoppin’ her, y’know?” Staring down at the table, stretching the fingers of her left hand out and over it, she continued quietly, “I don’t wanna get involved in this. Gangs aren’t my deal. I just wanna do my time, try to make up for all that shit I did so maybe I can get outta here someday and go back to doin’ exactly what I was meant to. But… if I don’t get involved in this, a lotta folks are gonna end up hurt, a lot are gonna die even.” Lifting her gaze to look upon Angel’s solemn features, she finished, “So I figure it’s my duty to stick my nose into this, y’know?”
“Yeah, I think I do,” said Angel softly as he gave a slight smile of comfort. “What are you going to do? Protect the person that’s supposed to be killed?”
“Something like that,” Faith said, averting her eyes from his, hoping the guilt wouldn’t come but knowing full well that it would.
She didn’t want to kill anyone, she never did in the first place, she had just lost control of herself… she knew that now. But this time, she had a choice, screwed up as it was. If it did come down to Low Tax dies or a mess of people do… well, she knew the answer to that. No one was exactly innocent in prison, that was true, but also Faith figured the law of numbers applied in this situation. Low Tax was one person and one was a hell of a lot less than the amount that would suffer if Deacon died.
“Faith,” Angel drew her name out and sighed quietly. Deciding that a lecture really would be pointless and moreover, it wouldn’t do any good in the first place, he said instead, “Be careful and do what you think is right. Let your conscience be your guide.”
Releasing a snort at this, Faith gave an ironic laugh and said, “I gotta wonder if I still have one of those. I think I mighta lost it after all the shit I’ve done.”
“You have one,” said Angel softly, confident as he looked at her steadily, making her meet his gaze and her expression fill with surprise on seeing the regard in which he held her. “If you didn’t then you wouldn’t be feeling the way you are now.”
“Yeah?” Faith swallowed the lump in her throat, her voice hoarse. “And what’s that?”
“Afraid, guilty, nervous over whether or not what you’re doing is really right. Hoping that you can make a difference this time,” Angel continued, speaking everything that was in Faith’s heart and knowing precisely what it was because he felt it too, every day. “All you can do is what you think is right. Let that be your guide, Faith.”
Forming a slow smile, Faith sighed quietly and tilted her head into the phone as she studied Angel’s kind features. “You’re such a fuckin’ softie for a vamp,” she accused. “I gotta wonder why we’re such buds, you bein’ that way and all.”
“You love me because of it,” said Angel lightly, his tone slightly humorous. He leaned back in his chair, sensing that Faith needed a change in topic, his expression turned almost evil, smiling as he said, “I hear that Cordelia visited you again. How did that go?”
The only response Faith had was to sigh in exasperation.
---
Lia Pontiero never much heard her name spoken on the lips of people. In fact, she could really only think of a handful people in her entire life that ever used it frequently. It was a short list to be certain as it consisted of her parents, Sal Zito, his daughter, Mary Angela, and of course, the Boss. They were the only ones who called her Lia and really, they were the only ones who mattered to her when it came down to it.
They were the only ones who knew her, really and truly. Who looked beyond the rough surface and saw her heart. Sal said she was a good kid, mixed up and a little confused when he first took her to the Boss. She remembered what the Boss said in reply, she could never forget. He said, “Not anymore. No one I look out for is.”
Everything changed after that. She devoted her life, herself, to the Boss and what he wanted. Because he was the one who rescued her, he was the one who took care of her, and most of all, he was the first one to really care about her after her parents died. That’s why she was in here. She protected the Boss, taking the fall to the Feds, and she would stay in here until he got her out. Till then, she wouldn’t be hearing her real name being spoken very much because no one here used it. No one here was allowed to.
Anyone who called her Low Tax wasn’t someone important to her. They were just potential prey. Someone, given the price or the order from the Boss, she’d turn on as easy as a dime. That even included the girl who was walking towards her now, eyes powerful, almost burning into her as she continued in her work out in the yard, acting as if she didn’t notice that stare or the person behind it.
But that’s all it was, acting. Because she, like most people in this place, couldn’t deny the Slayer’s presence when it came right down to it. There was something about the girl that was unnerving. A sense of power, strength, and it made Low Tax wonder why she didn’t use it to improve her position here. To take the place over instead of hiding away in the library stacks and ignoring most of the prison politics.
Still, maybe she wasn’t totally aloof to what went on. Why else would she be standing here now? Next to her weight bench as Low Tax continued to lift, her gaze looking up at the sky, not bothering to glance the Slayer’s way.
“Slayer,” said Low Tax in her low drawl, husky voice full of a glimpse danger. “You don’t like to socialize and neither do I. Lets not play games then. What do you want?”
“I know Box hired you to take out Deacon,” said Faith simply, agreeing with Low Tax that it was best not to play games and get right to the heart of the matter.
“And…?” drawled Low Tax again, a hint of a smile playing on her lips. She allowed the weight bar to fall with a clank against its rest and ducking her head under and around it, sat up slowly to look into the Slayer’s dark eyes that matched her own. Pushing a lock of short black hair from her forehead, she murmured, “It’s business, Slayer. I thought that you knew enough not to get into other people’s business. Especially mine.”
“I guess you thought wrong,” replied Faith in hard tones, her gaze even and unwavering as she matched Low Tax’s. She had faced what, to her, was the devil itself and she had seen him tear everything she loved to pieces, so she was damned if she would ever be scared of some two bit Mafia Princess who carried a pistol. “You know it’s gonna cause a lot of bad shit, takin’ Deacon out. Why do it? I doubt Box is payin’ you enough.”
“It’s not about pay,” Low Tax said, not sure why she was telling the Slayer anything. There was something about this girl though. The look in her eyes maybe, it reminded her of times long past… being lost before Sal found her and took her to the Boss. What was it Mary Angela always said? That life had a crossroads and depending on which way you took, everything was decided. Shit… this girl was making her philosophical. Rising to her feet, she smirked at how she towered over the Slayer. How young was she really? It was hard to tell. She still looked like a kid. “It’s a matter of honor, you understand.”
“Not really,” Faith growled, staring Low Tax down. “I don’t wanna do this, y’know. The last thing I want is a throw down with you but if that’s what it comes to, then that’s how it’s gonna be because I’m not lettin’ you off Deacon, that’s for sure.”
Blinking at Faith’s words, Low Tax laughed quietly but her volume increased and when she was finished and Faith was feeling altogether pissed at her reaction, she said, “You say whatever you like, don’t you, Slayer?”
“When it’s important,” acknowledged Faith, keeping her gaze steady. “Well?”
“Tell you what,” said Low Tax with a small smile that barely tugged at the edges of her lips. “We can make a deal. You give me what I want and I’ll forget all about Deacon.”
Immediately, Faith’s expression turned to surprise only to quickly darken. She clenched her jaw, restraining her rage as she bit the words out, “Fine. When do you want to do it?”
“Slayer,” Low Tax laughed again, shaking her head now. The taller woman sighed deeply, folding her arms across her tall frame in a smooth catlike motion. “You know, you’re starting to disappoint me. I don’t care about your body, although it is nice,” she paused to smirk. “No, I’m more interested in your potential.”
“Potential?” echoed Faith, frowning at Low Tax. No one talked with this lady, no one. So that meant no one really knew what she was like and Faith was starting to find out that a key part of Low Tax’s personality was causing others to get confused.
“Join me,” said Low Tax in low husky tones that reverberated with promise and excitement at the prospect. “You’d fit into the organization perfectly and together we’d own the prison. No one could stand against us, you know that.”
“Yeah,” said Faith slowly, her frown increasing. She looked away from Low Tax, across the yard and at Deacon who had been watching their entire exchange.
Distantly, she still heard Low Tax speaking to her. Saying that if she joined her, Deacon would be safe, and she would be too. That the Boss would take care of her, just like he did for Low Tax. That it was a better life, really it was. It was then that Faith realized she heard these words before, from the lips of the Mayor, and she wasn’t about to repeat her mistakes of the past. Not while she was in here to redeem for them.
“Not happening,” Faith answered, turning to meet Low Tax’s gaze as time appeared to slow. She watched Low Tax form a surprised look that faded into her usual unreadable face as Faith said, “I won’t do it… not again. If that means you’re gonna keep your deal with Box and take out Deacon, well,” Faith gave her best confident smirk and continued on, “I’m just gonna have to stop you.”
With that, Faith turned on her heel and walked away, feeling Low Tax’s eyes burn into her just as Low Tax had felt her own stare just minutes before. Watching Faith go, Low Tax smiled to herself and murmured, “Good luck trying, Slayer.”
---
Lately it seemed to Lilah Morgan that her days were getting longer and longer. She wasn’t quite sure if it was her harried lifestyle or her increased workload that made her think that way but still, there it was. Frankly, Lilah was getting sick of her job and all of the ‘people’ that surrounded her there.
Now would be a great time for a vacation, in her humble opinion.
That happening wasn’t very likely though. Not with all of the projects she was involved in and the fact that a vacation hadn’t been approved for her. And at Wolfram and Hart, well, it was a good idea to get everything you did approved. Unless you had a death wish, that is. Lilah definitely didn’t have one of those.
Sighing as she dropped into her plush Italian leather chair, Lilah spun around and stared out at the L.A. cityscape. It was almost pretty, the sunset making the city less dismal to a person who knew far better than to see it as anything but. Resting her head back as she felt her eyes droop, Lilah almost missed the shrill ringing of her cell phone.
Almost but not quite.
Giving another sigh, Lilah turned slightly, not looking back as she grasped for her phone, answering it with a bitchy, “Lilah Morgan. What do you want?” Seconds after saying this, Lilah straightened up in her chair, her eyes widening. “Oh, it’s you! I didn’t expect to hear from you so soon. Well? How did it go?” Lilah asked now, regaining her former position of a lazy panther as she sunk into her chair. Chuckling at their response, Lilah watched the pink and peach of the skyline and murmured, “She is stubborn. I suppose you’ll just have to go through with our original plan then.” Pausing now, Lilah’s voice gained a coy tone as she continued, “Unless you want to give it another try?”
Another pause and Lilah was chuckling again, tapping her beautifully painted nails on the armrest of her chair. “Mm, I had thought as much. You don’t have the patience for negotiation. That’s all right,” Lilah purred now, a smile spreading on her lips. “I think I’ll handle that aspect of the plan, if you wouldn’t mind. Ahhh,” Lilah chuckled, shaking her index finger at her conversation partner, “you’re bad. No wonder I’m so fond of you.”
“Well,” Lilah turned in her chair, facing her desk and smiling still, “I do thank you for the call, Lia. It’s rare that we get to chat these days and I must say I miss your company.” A moment of silence and Lilah grimaced slightly before she said, “Yes, call you Low Tax, of course I remember. I had just thought… well, that’s fine then. Goodbye.”
Hanging up the phone, Lilah’s grimace turned into a scowl of annoyance and pushing several stray locks of hair back in an elegant gesture, she muttered, “Mafia assassins. I don’t know who’s worse. Them or actual blood sucking demons. At least the latter has some version of standards when it comes to what they eat.”
Heaving yet another sigh then spinning around in her chair to face the dwindling sunset, Lilah smiled slowly and murmured, “It’s fine though. Because of her I’m going to get what I’ve wanted for a very long time indeed.”
---
For as long as Cordelia could remember the thing she hated most was waiting. She wasn't the type to just sit around and wait for things to happen. No, she was a doer. It was just in her personality to want action and if there wasn't action, well, she damn well caused it. After all, anything was better than waiting around for things to happen.
Maybe that's why she was getting so fidgety as she waited to be let into see Faith. Bad enough she had no idea why she came back yet again, other than the obscure promise she'd made to do so, but the waiting to see her, that just made it worse. Cordelia hated waiting partially because it gave you time to think about your actions or what you were about to do. And sometimes she just didn't want to do that.
Especially when she stopped to think every answer she came up with told her what she was doing made absolutely no sense and she should stop it right now. Yet, she was still here, looking at Officer Sally who arched an eyebrow at her as she smirked.
"Ready to see her?" inquired Sally with a drawl. "She's all ready to see you. Even been looking forward to it, I expect. How about you? Do you feel the same?"
"I'm here," Cordelia answered, her eyes lidded as she stared at Sally. She wasn't sure if she wanted to keep coming back if she got interrogated by this lady every time.
"Uh huh," said Sally, giving a snort. Leading Cordelia into the visiting room, she turned to face her while Cordelia stared at the waiting figure of Faith. "Try and stay that way."
Sally then turned and walked away as Cordelia walked over to Faith, sitting down and picking up the phone. The Slayer wore a confused expression, apparently lost about whatever had occurred between guard and Cordelia. "What's up?" she asked.
"She cares about you," said Cordelia dryly.
Flushing a bit, Faith looked off to one side and murmured, "Sally's cool. She's like that with a lotta people, the few that get their heads screwed on right. One of the few honest people workin' in this place, y'know? I sorta wonder why she's not a cop."
"Flunked the exam?" suggested Cordelia with a slight smirk, causing Faith to chuckle then tilt her head at the other woman. "I came back," she said after a moment of silence.
"Yeah," said Faith quietly, looking slightly surprised at the situation as she spoke, "you did." Smiling now, she leaned in her seat and continued, "I gotta admit, I didn't think you would keep your promise, stretch. I mean, a promise to me, what sorta promise is that?"
"A promise is a promise," Cordelia murmured, meeting Faith's eyes steadily. "I always keep mine. No matter who I make them to. Besides," she smirked and tapped on the plastic separating them, "haven't I already told you that you're nowhere as bad as you seem to think you are? And not to call me stretch?" she tagged on with a teasing frown.
"Keep sayin' that after you visit me a few more times," retorted Faith with a snort. Dark eyes inspected Cordelia and she said quietly, "I could be foolin' you. This could be some sorta act. How do you know that's not true?"
"Angel," said Cordelia, reminding Faith of their mutual friend as the Slayer's face darkened on remembering her relationship with him. Of course that was the reason why Cordelia came back, that Cordelia had any sort of trust for her. "Also," Cordelia said as she watched the transformation on the Slayer's face and not liking it one bit, "my own eyes. I can see you feel guilty about what you did, Faith. I can even see that you've changed, that you want to make up for all you've done. That's how I know this isn't some sort of act and that's also how I know something's bothering you now."
Jerking her head back, Faith looked at Cordelia with surprise then sighed. Turning back to the Seer, she murmured, "You're a pretty observant chick."
"I work for a death filled detective agency and I get mind numbingly painful visions," reminded Cordelia, arching an eyebrow. "I think that I should get some good things out of the deal, including some degree of observational skills." She studied Faith for a moment longer then asked, "What's going on?"
"I already told Angel," said Faith absently as if she meant to use this for some type of excuse. Turning away from Cordelia, she closed her eyes, recalling his belief in her and her ability to choose the right solution for the situation she was in.
"Then it won't be a big deal telling me too," replied Cordelia easily. When Faith kept her gaze away from her, she sighed and tapped on the plastic with her painted fingernails. A pair of dark eyes met her and Cordelia smiled softly on seeing them. "Please?"
Releasing a short bark of laughter, Faith returned the smile, small as it was, and leaned into the phone as she murmured, "You know what strings to pull, don't you?"
"No avoiding," Cordelia commanded, matching Faith's gaze, "just tell me what's wrong."
"Stretch… I can’t tell you," said Faith reluctantly, looking quietly back to Sally then towards where she knew a hidden video camera was. “Just ask Angel, huh?”
“Okay,” said Cordelia softly, knowing somehow she shouldn’t argue with the other girl about this. “I promise I’ll ask him.” They were silent for a moment then Cordelia sighed and asked with a wry smile, “Anything else to tell me?”
Smirking at this, Faith leaned into the phone and her dark eyes traced over Cordelia’s features before she murmured, “I’m glad you came back, y’know.” She paused and gave a chuckle at Cordelia’s light blush. “Real glad.”
“I said I would,” replied Cordelia simply.
“Yeah,” Faith smiled again, studying Cordelia, “you did.” Releasing a snort, she shook her head and said, “I saw my shrink this week…he said the same as you.”
“Mmm, I told you, trust issues abounds,” Cordelia drew the words out, smiling widely at Faith who rolled her eyes at the taller girl.
“Somethin’ about you told me that you’d brag when you’re right about stuff,” Faith commented causing Cordelia to pout at this statement.
(This is where I stopped writing.)