Title: My Addictions
Author: Lowdeen
Disclaimer: The characters and show do not belong to me. The story contains love between two women, so if such things offend you, don't read it and upset yourself.
Author's Note: This is a sequel to "My Unexpected Detour". If you haven't read that, you probably won't understand what's going on. This is an AU story. I decided to play with these characters so they only hold a passing resemblance to those on the show. Faith is a high school student. Buffy is a college student. They meet and this is what happens afterwards.
Rating: R

My name is Buffy Summers and there is nothing in my life that has taken me higher or shoved me down deeper than my addictions. At my lowest low, I was passed out in a dirty apartment with fifteen other people, lying in my own puke, not caring if I woke in the morning -- almost wishing I wouldn't. That was just two years ago. And a lifetime has passed since then but still, in the back of my mind, I carry around this knowledge that I can destroy myself so easily. All it'd take was one bottle, one bad day, one good excuse, and I'd be back in that alley. You know that old saying every ex-junkie, whether it's from cigarettes to heroin, have tatooed on their forehead -- 'one day at a time'? Well, sometimes, it becomes one hour at a time, one minute, the next few heartbeats.

It must be something in the genes. My mother has subsisted on a steady diet of prescription anti-despressants and top shelf wine since the beginning of time. Kind of defeats the purpose of lecturing me when she can't even begin to help herself. But that's never stopped her before. Father has his own vices --women and work, work and women. The two of them make quite the pair. They elevate 'looking the other way' into an art form. There's no doubt I am my parents' child. It was pretty much a no-brainer I'd follow in their footsteps.

Anyway that was two years ago. I haven't touched anything stronger than soda or aspirin since then. It was probably one of the hardest things I've done in my life -- to quit. Some addictions though, you can't just cut off. I mean, how do you cut off your parents? You can move across the state, make up some excuses when it comes to visiting, try to screen your calls ... oh wait, that's what I did already

And still, still they try to run my life. So why do I let them? Nine hundred miles away, you'd think they'd have less pull over my decisions but twenty four years of habit is a hard thing to erase. Every veiled look, every vocal inflection, every hinted disapproval, I breathe it all in and hate myself more and more because there's a singularly unchangable part of me that still thinks they're right.

But I can live with all that. Because there's one thing I have now that I didn't before.

It was the strangest sort of day. I forgot to set the alarm the previous night and woke up half an hour late which, of course, made me rush like a maniac to my morning class. I walked by Starbucks having every intention of passing up that first cup of java goodness but the line leading to the register was nonexistent. It was just too tempting. Five minutes tops, I reasoned. It's not like I wasn't already late.

So there I was. Paying for my coffee while juggling with a book in one hand and turning to walk towards the condiments counter where the cream and sugar were located when someone stepped in front of me. I tried to stop but my momentum still caused the coffee to spill onto a pristine, white T-shirt.

"Ohmigawd!" I heard myself say, watching almost in rapt fascination as the liquid spread and spilled down rounded valleys and flat planes. I shouldn't be thinking about the tightness of the fabric pulled taut over a full pair of breasts, I thought. Then I absolutely stopped thinking when I looked up into two incredibly large brown eyes.

That was the start of my new addiction, my new adoration. I knew it the first time I saw her. Like a lightning strike, I hadn't felt anything like it before and nothing like it since. I live for her touch and I covet her presence. There was no explaining it. I only knew I was never so happy as when she was with me and never so lost as when she was gone. It was one of those things I accepted without question.

Her name is Faith, I found out later when I brought her back to my apartment. All thoughts of making it to my morning class became moot since there was no way I was going to let her go without extracting a promise of seeing her again at a later date. She likes telling the story of how we met to people but I don't think she knows just how much I wanted her from the very start.

Like I told her in the beginning, I'd never thought about whether I was gay, straight, or bi. The question just never occurred to me. I had a boyfriend and I hadn't been unhappy with him but of course, we didn't really spend that much time together. I'd known him way before I started dating him. We spent two months together during the summer and off he went back to his college. He called a few times during the semester but we didn't make any definitive plans to visit each other. So it took me completely by surprise when I found him waiting at my doorstep one afternoon.

****

"Toby!" If I looked shocked, it was only because I was. "What are you doing here?"

"If I didn't know better, I'd say you weren't glad to see me, Buff," he said with his characteristic rakish grin. He stepped up, placing a light kiss on my lips before I could react. "Hey baby. I had a couple of days off so I thought I'd drop by and surprise you ... Surprise!"

Oh definitely. "Come in," I finally said, snapping out of a momentary daze. I flipped on the lights and put my books away on the nearest available surface all while on automatic pilot. "So how have you been?" I asked, more as a way of trying to focus than any interest on my part.

"It's been good. The usual academic bullshit but nothing I couldn't handle." He placed a black duffel bag by the door and looked around the room with a raised eyebrow. "Still the same Buffy, huh? Do you even own a chair?" He asked in a teasing tone.

I laughed, trying not to sound as tense as I felt. "So how long are you staying?" I asked, changing the subject.

He went over and sat on the couch. "I want to spend at least a couple of days with you. Cold son of a bitch as I am, I've still missed you, you know?"

"Do you want something to drink?" I was already at the fridge, grabbing two bottles of water before he'd even had a chance to answer.

"So tell me what you've been up to," he said, accepting the drink. "Fill me in."

There it was. An opening to tell him about the last few weeks. "Funny you should ask," I said, suddenly feeling very nervous. This was someone who'd known me and my family for longer than I could recall and as much as I didn't want to admit it, his opinion mattered to me because of that fact.

"Oh, hey," he interrupted with a snap of his fingers. "Did I tell you I talked to your mother the other day?"

"What? My mother ... no."

"Yeah. Actually, I got the idea of visiting you from her. She was worried about you."

I was speechless, struck dumb by this little fact. I'd talked to Mother only a couple of days ago. As usual, it was the same passive-aggressive dance we did everytime we talked but she'd never so much as hinted at having talked to Toby or that she was going to. Anger finally forced me to speak. "So that's why you came here? Because my mother asked you to check up on me?"

"You know that's not the only reason."

Yes, but it's the main one. Instead of saying that, however, I settled on a noncommital nod. It really shouldn't have surprised me that Mother had a hand in all of this. She always liked playing matchmaker too much and meddling was almost second nature to her. I realized I'd been silent too long when I noticed Toby studying me intently. "What?" I asked, a bit on the defensive side.

"Nothing ... " He gave me a tiny grin. "You know, I'm sort of feeling grimy. Let me clean up first and then we'll talk, okay?"

I absently nodded, showing him to the bathroom.

This was going to be an interesting couple of days.

****

I looked from Faith to Toby and back again. She wasn't supposed to be here yet. At least not until I figured out how to explain the situation better. I bit my bottom lip, trying desperately to find the words that would explain everything -- how walking in on a half naked stranger in your girlfriend's apartment really isn't as it seems. At least Faith's friend had left so there was one less person to witness this awkward situation I'd created.

"Toby, I need to tell you something," I finally said, opting for the direct route. He remained silent so I plowed on ahead. "I'm ... I'm breaking up with you."

His eyes widened ever so slightly at the news. "Excuse me if I'm a little shocked and surprised by this sudden revelation that's blindsided me like a truck, Buffy but where is this coming from?"

"I'm sorry, Toby. I really am but I've met someone else."

"Who?"

My eyes flashed to Faith who had been sitting silent until then. At his question, she stood up and answered, "Me."

"You?" Toby's face was a humourless mask as he took in the both of us through lowered brows.

I moved closer to Faith and wrapped one arm around her waist, leaving no doubt as to where I stood. "Yes, Toby. We're in love."

"Well ain't this a kick in the fucking nuts," he said in an oddly calm voice. "Buffy Summers, college lesbian ... You sure this isn't some infatuation or another one of your little rebellions against the parentals?"

"Don't be crass, Toby."

He snorted in disblief. "I guess you've been so busy screwing your girlfriend, you haven't gotten around to telling your mother yet about your great life conversion."

"What I tell my own Mother is my own business --"

"Not if it has any impact on me it's not," Toby interrupted. "I have no intention of being anybody's beard, not even yours."

Faith's arm tightened around my shoulder and I gave her a reassuring squeeze in return. "I'm not asking you for anything, Toby. I'm only sorry I didn't tell you sooner."

"Save your pity. Don't you think I know this routine already." He stood up and for a brief moment, I thought I spied a look of pain in his eyes before he turned away. "Well, guess I'll be going then -- wouldn't want any awkward situations arising ... oops, too late." Bitter, thy name is Toby.

He stormed out of the apartment five minutes later but not before imparting some final words. "A word of advice, Buff? I'd tell your parents about your extracurricular activities before they hear about it second hand."

Faith snarled at his retreating back and immediately slammed the door behind him. "Jerk," she muttered under her breath. She looks utterly adorable when she's being protective. "... Buffy, did you hear me?"

"Wha-Sorry," I apologised, blushing a little that I'd been caught ogling her in this situation.

She flashed me a lopsided grin and suddenly tackled me around the waist, bringing us both down on the couch with her lying on top of me. "I don't like your boyfriend," she said before placing a small kiss on my nose.

"Ex-boyfriend," I automatically correct her. "And I hadn't thought you would."

****

As much as I hate myself for it, a part of me still craves my Mother's approval. A nearly impossible task as I've been nothing but a disappointment to her since the day I was born. I've even asked her during some of my less lucid moments why she bothered having me in the first place since she didn't ever seem to want me around. Maybe I've just repressed the memory but I can't remember if she's ever answered.

So why, I ask myself daily, do I still feel this instinctual need to make her proud of me even though years of therapy should have made me know better? I rubbed my eyes in frustration as I stare at the phone. I've been staring at it for the last fifteen minutes, trying to get up the nerve to call my mother. I knew I'd been putting it off long enough, just like I'd put it off with Toby but I was never good with confrontations. They make me queasy.

"Okay, what's the worst thing that can happen?" I ask myself rhetorically. I tend to do that whenever I'm trying to psych myself up to do something really nasty. "I call, we talk, she threatens to disown me -- hah, no big deal. If I don't call her, Toby's probably going to have a little talk with her and she'll know anyway ... And she is not going to make me compromise how I live my life," I declared, my voice a lot steadier than my emotions at the moment.

Even so, it took another five minutes for me to actually dial and not hang up before I pressed the last number into the pad. Maria, our housekeeper answered the phone on the third ring and transferred me to my Mother.

"Buffy, what a surprise to hear from you." My Mother's not so veiled comment that I don't call her enough made me clench the phone tighter.

"Hello Mother. How are you?"

"I'm fine dear. The benefit we're holding for the Historical Society is still keeping me very busy. You know Toby's mother is also on the committee. Is he with you right now? He mentioned that he might visit you this week when we talked."

All right. Now or never. "He visited but he went back already. Mother, I--"

"Oh?" She interrupted. "I thought he would have stayed longer. Did something happen?"

"Yes actually. I have something really important to tell you and I know this is probably going to come as a shock to you. It kind of surprised me too. But I'm not going to try and hide who I am anymore because it wouldn't have been fair to anyone -- not Toby and not me ... Mother, I'm in love with a woman. Her name's Faith. And I broke up with Toby yesterday."

I hold my breath. The only thing I could hear on the line was her breathing. I couldn't stop pacing as I listened tensely for her voice. It seemed like hours before she said anything but it was probably closer to a couple of minutes.

"I can't believe you're doing this to me," she rasped in an angry near whisper.

"You can't believe ... What?!"

"First the drugs and the alcohol and now you're ... Why do you do this to us, Buffy? Your father and I tried our best to raise you to be a good and upstanding member of society but you rebel against us at every turn."

I was getting angry and I stomped harder on my circuit around the room. "Good and upstanding member of society?" I was repeating her a lot, I realized, adding further to my frustration. "You make it sound like I kick babies and steal from orphans in my spare time. I'm gay, Mother. That's not a crime and you're not going to make me feel bad about who I am and how I want to live my life.."

"You don't know what you're talking about. You sound hysterical -- have you been taking your pills?"

"Fuck the pills, Mother." I could hear her sharp intake of breath at the other end. "I'm not depressed and I'm not going to keep taking medication to cure something I don't have. And this has nothing to do with me being gay. For once in my life, can you just support me and not brush this off?"

I waited for her to say something but the next thing I heard was the dial tone. I stared at the phone in my hand like it was about to bite me and I almost ended up throwing it across the room, I was so angry.

She hung up on me.

My Mother ... hung up on me.

****

I've spent the last fourteen hours in my bed, the last two of which was spent with a pillow over my head. This might not seem strange -- I am a college student, after all. But it is strange that I haven't slept a wink in all that time. So what did I do? Mostly just looked up at the ceiling, trying not to think about my parents, my life, or the fact that I felt really grungy.

The phone rang a couple of times but I couldn't find the energy to drag myself out of bed and hold a conversation. All I wanted to do was forget the past two days but little bits and pieces kept slipping past, kept dragging me down into myself. I really wanted Faith there with me. I wanted to feel her arms holding me. I wanted to feel safe and warm against her body. But I also didn't want her to see me like this.

As if conjured from the very power of my very thoughts, the door to my bedroom suddenly swung open and Faith was standing there. I peeked at her from under my pillow and cringed when I saw her looking back at me. She walks slowly over to the side of my bed and drops down on one knee so she can peer into my eyes.

"Buffy?" I love the way she says my name. All throaty and sweet and loving. "Are you all right?"

"Why do you ask? Don't I look all right?" My own voice comes out sounding scratched and a notch too low from lack of use.

She just looks back at me. Her eyes start to tear up and her lower lip starts trembling. I don't even think twice about throwing the covers and pillow off and drawing her into my arms. "Please don't cry, baby." I continue murmuring soothing words into her ear as I feel her arms wrap tight around my waist. "I want so much to take your pain away. Please tell me what's wrong, Faith."

"I was so worried about you, Buffy," she said into my shoulder. "When I called you and no one answered, I thought -- God, I don't know what I thought. I just had to see you again and I don't know why I'm blubbering like a baby right now. Shit, I can't stop."

Faith. My wonderful, beautiful, sweet Faith. I've never felt as loved as I did then, having this girl in my arms, crying because she was worried about me. Has anybody ever cried worried tears for me before? I felt my own tears slipping past my eyes and mingling with hers as she pulled me into a deep kiss that felt like sunshine eveloping my whole body.

There were no words as I touched her and she touched me. Only the sighed moans and harsh breaths broke the silence as we both took and gave exactly what we each needed. Later, as we laid wrapped in each others' arms, Faith asked me again if I was all right and I told her what had happened. One look into her flashing brown eyes told me she was furious on my behalf and I placed a tender kiss on her cheek, letting her know how much her presence meant to me.

"I'm so sorry, B. I can't believe she would do that to you," she said, her tone showing clear contempt.

"That's because you don't know my Mother, Faith."

"I don't think I'd want to either. I don't think I could hold back from telling her exactly what I think of her."

"... Thank you, Faith."

"For what?" She asked, confusion written across her face.

"For being here for me -- for loving me." A bright grin lit up her face at that which in turn brought about a happy little flip of my heart.

"I couldn't imagine doing anything else, Buffy. I love you"

****

I hadn't expected any more contact from my parents for a while and there wasn't. This was always their way. A tactical withdrawal as my father would say, until such time as they thought I'd come to my senses and do the things they thought were right. They could have saved themselves the trouble.

It wasn't going to happen.

I was happier than I ever remember being and I wasn't stupid enough to give that up. Everything was going so well, in fact, that I kept looking over my shoulder, wondering when the other shoe would drop. Even meeting my girlfriend's family hadn't turned out to be the nerve-racking event I'd envisioned. It helped that they were nothing like mine and of course, Faith was there the whole time making sure I was at ease. But, their idea of family dinner did kind of bear getting used to. It was more of a contest to see how fast and how much one could eat in one sitting. I found myself staring more than once in equal parts astonishment and amusement at Faith's haording and almost territorial "guarding" of her food from straying hands.

Have I mentioned how the terms "endearing" and "adorable" often crop up in my mind whenever I think about her? And I think about her a lot. I've even caught myself writing her name in my notebook when I should've been taking notes in class. I've fallen so hard for this girl so fast, it should probably scare me to death but I feel like the moment I saw her for the first time was the moment I finally woke up from a long drawn out dream. Everything around me became so much clearer, so much more defined -- alive. I wonder if she'd run away screaming if she knew just how much I've already come to need her and depend on her. Sometimes, my insecurity gets the better of me and I hold her a little bit tighter, a little bit longer, afraid she'll walk out of my life if I let her slip from my arms.

****

I rubbed my hands together for the hundredth time, trying to get some feeling back into my frozen digits. "Why is it that I'm sitting in the frigid cold, watching a sport I don't even know the rules to?" I asked through chattering teeth. At least I could still shiver. I've read somewhere that it's when you stop shivering that it becomes a medical emergency.

Faith sat next to me, a wide grin plastered on her face. Couldn't she even pretend to sympatise with my suffering? "Like my old man says. A little fresh air never killed anybody. But if you're really cold ... " She slipped an arm around me and I gladly snuggled up. "Better?"

I hummed in contentment as the crowd sitting around us exploded into another cheer. I guess our side scored again ... or something. We were at a college football game. I didn't even know my college had a football team. Simon and Faith were originally going to go but Simon had something come up at the last minute and here I was, her sporting substitute. How was I supposed to resist those big brown pleading eyes when she asked me to come? It was just embarassing how quickly my resolve crumbled.

By the end of the game, which by the way, she tells me our side won, both our faces were ruddy with cold and her voice had sunken to a lower register with all the yelling she'd done. I didn't forget to mention to her that I found that rather sexy either. To my immense relief, we eventually made it back to my apartment -- my warm, toasty, cozy apartment.

"You know something, B?" She went on without pausing for breath as she started taking off her jacket, gloves, and scarf. "That was fun. I like hanging out with you even though you do act a little wimpy when it comes to the cold . Oww!" She rubbed her side where I'd just poked her.

"That was not just cold. That was frigid," I countered. "It was downright arctic. You'd have to be a penguin to sit in that for two hours." I sat down on the couch and she immediately laid down, placing her head on my lap.

"Does that mean I'm a penguin?" She asked playfully with one eyebrow raised and a smirk on her lips.

"No, you're an exception. You're just hot-blooded. Although I could picture you in a tux and tails."

She raised up enough to look me in the eyes with a saucy grin plastered across her face. "You like me butch, huh?"

"Oh yeah darlin'," I teased back. "Get yourself a crew cut, slap on some flannels and Birkenstocks and you'd make a cute little baby dyke."

She reared back and made a face. "Thanks but no thanks. I'd rather stick with jeans and Nikes."

"You'd still be a cute little baby dyke."

"Good. As long as I'm yours."

I smiled and pulled her into a soft kiss. "You can be so sweet sometimes."

She smiled back, looking quite pleased with herself as she laid her head back on my lap. I started running my fingers through her hair, enjoying the silkiness of the thick strands.

"You know," she mumbled. "If you keep doing that, I'll fall asleep."

"And that's a bad thing, why?"

"Uh ... curfew, dad, grounding? These words mean anything to you, B? I'm still reeling from the last time I lost track of time around you." I couldn't help laughing. "What?" She asked, furrowing her brow. "What's so funny?"

"I just would've never pictured this. I'm twenty-four years old and I'm dating a high school student ... with a curfew. That's kind of funny." She frowned. "Okay, maybe it's just me." When her expression still didn't change, I grew a little concerned. "You're usually a lot more receptive to my quirky sense of humor. Faith, what's the matter?"

"I didn't know you were twenty-four."

It took a couple of seconds for that simple statement to sink in and when it did, the best I could come up with was an oh so articulate "Oh." Brilliant, wasn't I?

After a few more seconds of raging silence, she sat up, tapping her fingers thoughtfully against her thighs. "I should know that, you know? I should know how old my own girlfriend is. Come to think of it, I should know a lot more stuff about you than I do. I don't know anything about your family except that you don't get along with your parents. I don't know where you grew up. Hell, I really don't know shit about you."

I shrugged and tried not to fidget under her intense stare and agitated manner. "What's there to know? It's no big deal, Faith. It's just the little details."

"So if it's just the little details and it's no big deal then how come you never want to talk about it with me. Whenever I try to bring up anything about you past the last two years, you clam up and try to change the subject. Did you think I wouldn't notice?"

To be honest, that's what I'd been hoping.

"I just don't like talking about it, okay? It's not just you. I don't like talking about it with anyone." I knew I wasn't doing a very good job at explaining this but I didn't do very well under pressure. I never did well on pop quizes either.

"That's twenty-two years of your life I know fuck all about. It's twenty-two years you want me to write off as nothing special." She swallowed hard and I could tell she was trying to keep her voice from rising. "Look, Buffy. I'm in love with you, okay? I've never been in love with anyone. You're the first one, the only one and I want to know everything about you -- all the good, all the bad, everything in between cause I wanna be as close to you as I can without actually being attached to you at the hip. Does that make sense?"

Irrational as it might have been, I felt like I was being backed into a corner and I proceeded to make a complete ass out of myself. "Have you ever thought that maybe I'm not ready for that kind of commitment yet? I mean, how long have we really known each other Faith?" God, shoot me now. I want to shut up but the words just seem to keep streaming out. "You think you can be my therapist now just because we sleep together a couple of times. So I don't want to bring up every dirty little secret I have. So what? It's not like you tell me everything either, right?"

I wanted to crawl in a hole and die when I saw the brief flash of devastation and hurt come over her face before a mask of anger replaced it. "I'd tell you whatever you asked me, B. I thought you knew that but I guess that's the difference between you and me. I'm not trying to hide myself from the person I love. But I guess I could be wrong about that too since you've made it quite clear that I'm only the person you sleep with -- occassionally." She got to her feet with a snarl. "Well, FUCK THAT and fuck you too!"

Almost as a reflex, I sat still and kept silent even as every nerve inside my body screamed for me to stop her from leaving and apologise for all the boneheaded things I'd just said. But I said nothing and I did nothing as my girlfriend stormed out the door, leaving my apartment in aching silence that threatened to swallow up whatever sanity I had left.

****

I didn't know what to do. What was I supposed to do? I've never been in this kind of situation before. How do other people apologise for acting like a jackass to their significant others? Flowers, cards, candy, jewelry? I'd try anything if someone just told me. I was sure she wouldn't even look at me, much less talk to me after what I'd said to her. Mostly though, I had no idea what to say if, miracle of miracles, she did let me talk to her. I didn't know where to start. What would she think about me if she knew even half the stuff I'd done?

So basically, I was a walking mess for an entire week. Everyday, I'd psych myself up a little bit more into finding her and begging her for forgiveness if that was what it took. Everyday, I got a little closer to that goal until on the seventh day, I finally found myself walking towards her neighborhood. I've never said I was very brave. Why do you think I procrastinated for so long?

In the end, when I finally talked myself into taking action, I decided not to call ahead and see if she was home before going there. If she knew I was coming, she'd probably take off before I got there, I reasoned. It remained a good idea until I actually found myself standing in front of her door. Then all those nagging doubts came cruising into my mind. What if she slammed the door in my face before I could even say a word? Would she be that mad? Could I really blame her?

The sound of footsteps behind the door nearly gave me a panic attack. And when it suddenly opened, I felt my heart literally skip a beat as I stared into eyes that seemed just as surprised as mine to see me standing on her doorstep before that expression closed down into an unreadable mask.

"Hi," I said, thanking whatever god existed that I hadn't stuttered over that one little word.

"What do you want?" Okay. I can work with this. It wasn't like I expected this to be easy or anything. Faith had a temper but she usually got over things pretty quickly.

"Can I just talk to you for a few minutes ... please?"

"So talk and make it fast cause I got someplace to be." She folded her arms and leaned on the doorframe, obviously not willing to give an inch.

"God, where do I start? I just opened my mouth the other night and inserted both feet. I didn't mean that stuff I said -- none of it. And the only reason I said those things was because ... " I swallowed, trying to push the words out of my throat even as I looked everywhere but at her. "Because I was scared. I was terrified of what you'd think of me if you really knew the person I was before. You're the only one in my whole life who's ever loved me and I just became so scared that you'd leave when you found out that I decided to push you away first before you could do it." I couldn't even admit to myself in my most private thoughts that that's what I was doing until I said it out loud right then. I could've kicked myself if I had been a circus acrobat and my leg reached that far behind.

She seemed to mull over what I'd said for a couple of seconds before she shrugged. "Okay."

"Okay? Is that an okay, I forgive you or an okay, drop dead?" Let it be the former. Please let it be the former.

"No, it's an okay, you can come in cause I have a feeling this is gonna take more than a couple of minutes." One corner of her mouth quirked up ever so slightly and I could tell she was trying hard to fight off an urge to grin. I could almost hope that she wasn't as pissed as I'd thought.

She led me inside and got me a bottle of water which I took with a quiet thanks. Then we stood around awkwardly in the kitchen, neither one of us sure of what to say now that the perfunctory gestures were concluded.

"So," she finally said, the word sounding loud after the preceding quiet. "I was really pissed off at you, y'know?"

I felt my heart sink. "Yeah, I'd be pissed at me too."

"Damnit Buffy, I was more than pissed. What was I supposed to think? You all but told me to take my feelings and go to hell the last time I saw you which was, by the way, a goddamn week ago and now you're here telling me what? That you said all that so you could leave me before I left you? That you thought I was lying when I said I loved you? Cause that's the only way you could think I'd ever leave you -- if you thought I didn't love you as much as I did -- as much as I do."

I bit my bottom lip, unable to think of anything to say but an inadequate, "I'm so sorry, Faith."

She ran an agitated hand through her hair before releasing a measured breath. "Just come here." She grabbed me around the waist with one arm, pulling me into a crushing hug. After my initial surprise, I eagerly returned it, pressing my body against hers. For the first time in days, I breathed in deep and inhaled Faith's scent, letting it surround me, making me almost dizzy with relief.

"I've missed you. So much." I buried my nose in the crook of her neck, not wanting to let go but knowing with no small amount of dread that we still had a lot to talk about.

****

"So where should I start?" I asked rhetorically. We had migrated from the kitchen to Faith's bedroom and were now seated across from each other on the bed. With a deep breath, I started. "I grew up in Maryland. My parents married in '75. A year later, they had me. I'm pretty much positive they actually liked each other some time around that period but that's just my guess because they can barely stand each other now. I think part of the reason I'm an only child is because they couldn't even stand to be in the same room with each other after they had me. I went through my childhood and early adolescence trying to be the 'perfect' daughter. Private schools, piano lessons, top of my class, I did everything they wanted me to. I guess some part of me believed that if I did that and if I was good enough at it, they'd love me like all the other kids' parents I saw." I smirked, remembering how naive I had been or maybe I was just innocent.

"I got over that though. By the time I hit puberty, I'd done a complete one-eighty. I was the poster child for rebellious teenagers. It was almost too easy. I had too much time, too much money, and next to no supervision. You could say I went wild. It started small but then it just ... " I twirled my fingers, trying to find the right word. "Spiralled. I couldn't control myself anymore. Truth is, I didn't really want to. It took a long time before I got my act back together," I said, deciding to leave out the excruciating details. "But I finally got my high school diploma and decided to come here for college."

I waited for Faith to say something and forced myself not to look away when she did. "So you thought if I knew all this stuff about you, I'd suddenly stop loving you and leave you?"

I flinched at how it sounded. "I know it's stupid and you don't know how sorry I am for hurting you. If you give me another chance, I promise the next time my old insecurities and doubts surface, I'll talk to you about it instead of trying to push you away."

She hesitated as if gauging my sincerity. "I love you, Buffy," she said with conviction. "Even when I was mad at you, I still loved you. It doesn't matter what you did or how messed up you were in the past because that isn't the person I fell in love with. The woman you are now -- that's who I love." Her eyes had become watery, the same as mine. "So come here and kiss me already and promise me you'll never do that shit again or I swear to God, I won't even open the door to you the next time."

"I promise," I said, finally letting the tears fall as I lunged into her arms and kissed her for all I was worth.

We stayed in each other's arms for what seemed like hours, both content to just be near each other. When Faith shifted on the bed to lay back, I shifted with her so that we were both lying down, side by side. Her hand came up and her thumb gently stroked my cheek.

"So that was our first fight, huh?" She asked with a twinkle in her eye.

"No, that was our first make-up after our first fight," I informed her as I turned my head to kiss her palm.

"Yeah, well. If it's all the same to you, can we not repeat that for awhile? I haven't felt that bad since I took a tumble down the stairs, broke my leg, and spent two months convalescing."

"And when was this?"

"A couple of months ago. You should've seen me. I was deadly with that crutch."

I chuckled as much from the mental image as from the relief that we were bantering again. As long as I'm with you, I wanted to say, as long as I'm with you, I can breathe again. Instead, I just smiled and reveled in her words.

****

Finals comes around like monsoon season in southeast asia, leaving me gasping for breath and discombobulated more often than not. Papers and tests, tests and papers -- it wouldn't have been so bad if it all didn't converge in that last week or so before classes officially ended. I knew I'd been short-tempered and not very good company but I swore I'd make it up to Faith who had been surprisingly patient during the whole thing.

Of course, she probably had other precoccupations on her mind. She was graduating high school after all. It was a momentous event and clearly needed to be celebrated as such. When the big day finally came, I went to her graduation ceremony, and along with her dad and brothers, we managed to snap off a few rolls of film of her in her cap and gown even though she kept insisting in that half snarky, half embarassed way of hers that it was at most a five-picture occasion. Not.

We'd planned a post graduation party at a local restaurant later. Her family was going to be there as well as Simon and his family and a couple of her other friends. I was running a little late as usual because I'd spent the last fifteen minutes trying to find a missing earring and so the last thing I needed was the phone ringing just as I was about to walk out the door.

"Hello, Buffy speaking," I said, eyeing my watch and hoping it wasn't another telemarketer.

"Hey baby. Guess who this is. Betcha never thought you'd hear from me again, huh?" If someone were to pull the rug out from under me, I think my world would still spin less than it did at that moment.

"What .. how ... what ... " I sputtered incoherently as I sank down onto the couch which thankfully was nearby or else I would've ended up hitting my ass on the hard floor.

"Don't get so excited," that voice continued, its silkiness crawling down my spine and settling like a rock in the pit of my stomach. "It's good to know I still have this effect on you ... it's been a long time."

Not long enough. Just when my life is starting to bear a striking resemblance to normal, something from my past has to rear his ugly head and remind me that nothing is ever that easy. "Why are you calling me?"

"Honestly? ... I missed you."

"No, why did you really call me?"

He laughed out loud and I could almost picture him in my mind, all sleek elegance and raw energy, his black eyes laughing without a trace of humor.

"Look," I said, cutting him off mid-snigger. "I don't really care why you called but I don't have anything to say to you so if that's all, I'm going to hang up now."

"I want to see you again," he said abruptly before I could do what I threatened. "I have missed you, Buffy. You have no idea how much."

"Angel ... "

****

There are only two people I've ever fallen in love with. If I were to be objective about it, a hard thing to do considering how non-objective the whole love thing is, both affairs have been pretty similar. We met, I fell head over heels, and the sex was mind blowing. Almost as straightforward as painting by numbers but it's when you look deeper that you find the differences.

Before Faith, there was Angel. Kind of like before there was fire, there was darkness.

Angel showed me what it is to be consumed, to desire, to lust. He wasn't like anyone I'd ever met before. He wasn't safe, wasn't a bore, and he certainly wasn't someone I'd bring home to mother. All good things if you were trying very hard to be very bad. How much more perfect of a boyfriend could I have gotten? Oh right, there was that little thing called love. It was all one directional, no matter what he says or what he believes. I was the one in love, not him.

It took me awhile to see that. And when I did, it took me awhile to accept it. But the question now became why was he calling me after all this time?

****

I almost didn't go to the party after Angel's call, freaked out as I was, but I knew Faith would worry. After that blowout we had about me keeping things from her, I considered telling her about Angel but decided it would just dredge up bad memories. I'd made it clear I didn't want anything to do with him anymore so in my mind, that part of my past was over and done with.

All in all though, I still felt anxious and jumpy the whole night like I was waiting for something else to happen. Something nasty. Not that anyone really noticed my odd behavior, what with the circus atmosphere. At one point in time -- I believe it was somewhere between desert and Simon's dad breaking into showtunes -- I decided that I needed a vacation. Badly.

Maybe it was a combination of finals, Angel's phone call, and my lack of a sex life for the last two weeks, but I thought it was time for a break. At the earliest opportunity, I pulled Faith aside and hinted none too subtly that I still hadn't given her her "graduation present" yet. After a moment of confusion, she leered at me and made some excuse to her dad about being tired and spending the night at my place. I caught her brother, Dave winking at her before we left and I couldn't help but chuckle -- it was such a Faith thing to do. I guess it runs in the family.

"What's so funny?" She asked with a grin, her arm draped comfortingly across my shoulder.

It was a gorgeous night. The moon was nearly full, lighting everything in a pale white glow. There was just a hint of a breeze, enough so it was comfortably warm.

"I'm just happy to be alone with you at last," I said, not wanting to share my previous observation.

"Keep up the sweet talk and you'll be making me blush."

"I can think of other things I can do that can make you blush."

"You planning on doing some of those things tonight?" She suddenly nipped at my earlobe, making me squeal out loud. "Hmm, you taste nice and you smell even better."

"You really know how to make a girl feel like a food group, don't you?"

"Yep, that's me. Sauve is my middle name."

"And here I thought it was Marie."

"Yeah, chuckle it up, Buffy Anne."

"Okay, okay," I said, raising my hands in mock surrender. "Let's call a truce or this could get bloody. And by the way, how would you like to take a little vacation with me?"

She stopped right in the middle of the sidewalk. "Who, what, when, where and occasionally why? Gee, slow down, Buff. You're changing topics so fast you're giving me whiplash."

"So does that mean you don't want to go with me?"

She rolled her eyes, waving away my pout. "Stick that bottom lip back. First of all, where are we going and second of all, what brought this on?"

"Well, I thought it'd be nice to relax a little, y'know, after graduation and finals and ... everything." I hooked my arm through hers and continued our stroll. "Plus, I think it'll be fun going to Massachusetts. We can do a little sailing, do a little touring, and, bonus points, my grandparents have a house there we can stay at."

She got a little frown on her face and then asked, "I thought you said your grandparents have a house in Maine ... "

"Uh ... they do."

"So they have a house in Massachusetts and in Maine." It came out sounding more like a statement than a question but I chose to answer anyway.

"Yeah." And though she hadn't asked, I felt the need to elaborate. "My parents usually take time off and visit them in Maine around this time every year so that's not really where we want to be going if we want to relax."

"Oh, okay ... how are we supposed to get there?"

"We'll fly of course, silly," I said, picking up the pace a bit. I really did want to give her her graduation present.

****

Faith's only plane riding experience came when she was eleven and her whole family decided to take a summer vacation to Disneyworld in Florida. She says she doesn't remember much of the trip except that it was really hot, really humid, and the lines were really damn long -- her words. She also said that her little eleven year old heart nearly thumped out of her chest when she got to meet Tigger but she swore me to secrecy on that fact lest Simon get more ammunition to tease her with.

We boarded our flight at 12:30. There was a slight delay, something to do with mechanical problems. Not something you want to hear just when you're about to entrust your life to a big metal shell to safely transport you from point A to point B. But at least Faith didn't seem bothered by it. In fact, she was nearly vibrating out of her seat with excitement. If her butt wasn't moving, it was her hands and if it wasn't her hands, it was her lips -- not that I was complaining since her enthusiasm was doing a very good job of rubbing off on me.

The plane took off thirty minutes late but the rest of the flight went by without a hitch. The meal was nice. The on board movie was so-so. Faith kept playing with the overhead light. Everything was going fine. That was, until we were an hour or so out of Boston and the plane started shaking like someone had just tossed it inside a giant blender and pushed the on switch.

Faith turned to me and asked in calmer voice than I could've come up with, "We're not gonna drop out of the sky now, are we?"

"Well, I hope not," I said, sinking deeper into my seat. The fasten seatbelt sign flashed on and the buzz of panicked voices rose in volume the longer there was silence from the pilot as to what was going on. Faith's hand reached out and wrapped around my own and I looked over in gratitude for the gesture.

The plane continued rattling for a good five minutes and by this time, I could feel the pressure building in my ears as we started to descend.

"This is your pilot speaking," came the oddly laconic voice from the PA system. That was good, I guess. He didn't sound like someone about to divebomb into the ground. "There's a mechanical problem with one of the plane's wings. We will be making an unscheduled stop in New York in about ten minutes. Please remain seated and have your seatbelts on until the fasten seatbelt sign is turned off ... " I closed my eyes, pulled Faith's hand into my lap, and prayed this wasn't our last day together.

It seemed to take forever for the plane to glide down onto the tarmac. And glide is probably too gentle a word for what it actually felt like -- a controlled tumble seems a better fit. Every jerk and jostle rattled my brain. It was like riding a really old wooden roller coaster. You know, the ones that look like they're about to fall apart if even one more car rattles along its tracks.

When it finally stopped, I think there was a collective sigh of relief from everybody on board. Faith grabbed me in a big hug and gave me a sloppy kiss as I started giggling uncontrollably.

"Shit!" She said, shaking her head and running a hand through her hair. "That's a hell of a way to start a vacation, huh?"

"What? You mean staring your own mortality in the face isn't a normal occurrence?"

She scoffed. "Nah, I usually schedule way in advance."

Faith looked out her window and noticed that people were starting to gather around our plane. By the time we disembarked, I was still shaking and it was ten at night. There were still people milling around. Some of them I recognized as some of the passengers from our plane.

"Hey, let's sit down for a minute, okay?" She sat us both down on a couple of seats and wrapped an arm around me. "You okay?"

"I will be. I'm just kinda still getting over it right now." We sat quietly for a few minutes until I felt myself relax a little. "So we got a couple of choices now. We could stay here, go to a hotel for the night and catch another plane to Massachusetts in the morning ... "

Faith pulled a face and chewed lightly on her bottom lip. "Can we skip planes for awhile. I don't think I could get on one so soon after."

"Me neither," I agreed immediately. "We could rent a car and drive the rest of the way or just stay here for a couple of days. I mean this is New York. I'm sure we could find something to do here."

"Yeah, why not?" She visibly brightened. "Could we do that?"

"Of course. Let's go find a hotel. I am so totally dead on my feet right now."

****

We had spent three days in New York doing all the things that tourists do plus a few things we made up along the way. All in all, very fun. I especially liked our impromptu groping session in the dressing room of Saks and surprisingly, I even enjoyed Faith's idea of going to a baseball game. Having never gone to one myself, it was an experience that would no doubt curl itself up in a warm corner of my memories. Who knew heckling could be so much fun? There's a lot of those though. The good memories, I mean. And they all started accumulating the day I met Faith. It's a pretty sure bet there's a correlation.

We planned on leaving in another two days and renting a car to drive up to Boston. Faith insisted on picking the model because she didn't want to ride around in a "cutey-ass" car which I took offense to and rightly so. Like I would ever pick a car that people would snicker at?

It was our last night in New York and appropriately, we were back at a club we'd found our first night out. Faith whipped out a remarkably good fake ID along with a quirky grin and struts inside leading me by the hand like she owns the place. Nobody would ever describe her as humble. She had a self-assurance that came across as arrogance for those who didn't know her. To me, she's just being honest. She puts herself out there for all the world to see -- no hidden agendas, no games. It's one of the many things I love about her.

It's smoky. It's dark. It's loud. It's familiar.

"I'm gonna get something to drink. Bottled water okay for you?" She asks, her lips brushing across my ear as she leans into me.

I nod and watch as she makes her way to the bar. My eyes roam across the room and it seems that nothing has changed from the last time we were here. There is a large dance floor occupying most of the room and there is no doubt in my mind she'll want to spend a lot of time on it before the night's done. I was so engrossed with watching the figures on the dance floor that I almost jumped out of my skin when an arm draped possessively across my shoulders. The second I felt it I knew it wasn't Faith.

Hard in all the wrong places. Too tall. Too tight. The smell of aftershave is strong.

Then comes the familiar purr in my ear and it's all I can do not to shiver in disgust. I don't though. I went with every instinct in my body and shoved that loathsome body away from me. He looks surprised, like he didn't expect it from me. It shocked me too, the level of revulsion I felt at his presence. I never realized how much I hated him until I saw him face to face again.

"Not happy to see me?" He asks with a lopsided grin.

"Shoving you back isn't obvious enough?" I have to nearly shout to be heard over the music. I think I would have shouted anyway even if we were in an empty room by ourselves. Not that I ever want to be in an empty room with him. The thought alone makes me shiver again.

"I just want to talk to you, Buffy." The fact that he has one of those voices that lets him talk normally without shouting in a loud room is really starting to tick me off.

"I don't want to talk to you. I don't want anything to do with you. Get out of my life and stay out." Could I have made myself any clearer? I would think not and yet his grin still hasn't slipped a fraction, like he thinks what I'm saying is funny. That starts ticking me off too. Then, just as I'm about to lose my temper, another arm drops across my shoulders, only this time, my body automatically relaxes against the familiar one beside me before my mind even registers there's someone there.

"Here Buffy. Got it just for you." She places a bottle in my hand while her eyes never leave the black clad man in front of us. She whispers in my ear, "You wanna get out of here or do you want me to take him out back and kick his ass?"

I chuckle at the oddly chivalrous offer. Picturing Faith beating up on a man a foot taller and ninety pounds heavier than her -- I'd pay to see that. "Let's go," I say instead. I could only hope he didn't decide to follow us out and luckily, he didn't.

We're a block away from the club before she asks, "Would I be way off if I thought you knew that guy?"

"No, you wouldn't."

"Ex-boyfriend?"

"How'd you guess?"

"He was looking at you like I would have."

"No Faith. Never. When you look at me, I see the love in your eyes. I've never seen it in his."

She seems to accept this easily and just when I wonder if she's going to let the subject drop, she stops.

"Hold on." She pulls me into a convenience store. "I want to get something." She then proceeds to walk around the store and grab up an armful of snacks. Chips, candy bars, sunflower seeds, cupcakes, even a couple of Slim Jims.

She chuckles, probably from the puzzled expression on my face and takes my hand while her other one holds a large plastic bag of her purchases. "Sometimes, I just get these urges to snack," she explains with a shrug.

"Have I ever told you how I find your little quirks and eccentricities adorably cute."

"It's when you don't I should start worrying."

"I think it's safe to say you'll never have to worry about that, darling."

"Well, that's nice to know, honey."

We wear matching grins all the way back to our hotel room. Tomorrow, we'll leave for the car rental place, get a car that meets with Faith's approval and drive to my grandparent's place in Boston. And if I'm extremely lucky, I won't ever see Angel in my life again. Twice in one week, even if that once had only been a phone call, was plenty enough for me. I plan on making this the best summer vacation Faith has ever taken and no unwelcome ex-boyfriends will mess that up for us.

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