Title: Sick Daze
Author: Lowdeen
Disclaimer: Faith, Buffy, all characters and the show all belong to Joss Whedon, Fox, and Mutant Enemy. The story contains implied love between two women, so if such things offend you, don't read it and upset yourself.
Spoilers: Up to and including the Third Season.
Author's Notes: Seventh in the Daze series. Alternate universe set up. Freshman Buffy --- senior Faith. Major badness has gone down with the Watchers and this is the aftermath.
Rating: R

"Where am I?"

"You're home." I turn around and see Faith, standing there with a soft smile on her face.

"Really?" I look around and realize it's true. I'm standing in the middle of my living room. How did I get here? The last thing I remember ... the last thing I remember ...

I can't remember the last thing I remember. Odd. "This ... doesn't feel real."

"Why's that, B?"

"It just ... doesn't."

"That's not much of an answer." Faith's voice comes from behind me as her arms wrap around my waist. When did she move? "Try again," she urges with a smile in her voice.

"Am I dreaming?" The arms tighten a bit and I can feel her body pressing against my back, warm and solid.

"Do I feel like a dream?" Her whisper caresses my ear and my eyes start to close involuntarily.

"I need ... " What was it I needed again? I can't remember.

"It's all right now, B. I won't let anybody hurt you."

I let out a soft sigh as I relax, leaning my body against hers. "I know, Faith."

And it really didn't matter that everything around us was starting to grow fuzzy and out of focus because Faith was still there. As long as she was there, why did anything else matter?

****

I hate myself.

I hate you.

And, basically, if you want to generalize, I hate the whole fucking world.

If the world were about to come to an end tomorrow, I wouldn't lift a damn finger to save its sorry ass. You know what I'd say? I'd say, "Screw you world. What the fuck have you ever given me?"

And then of course, I would look down at you and I'd wish I'd never met you. Cause you know what? I know for certain, I wouldn't hurt this much if I'd never laid eyes on you, if we'd never become friends, if I'd never fallen in love with you ... if I hadn't fallen so damn hard.

And just when I think I'll get swallowed up by this hate, I look down again and all my anger rushes out of me like a popped balloon cause I know it's all my fault. It's because of me you're lying there, trapped in your own body. Because of me and my shit murdering self. Because of me, I'm hurting now.

I can almost hear you too. "It's not your fault, Faith," you'd say but dammit, B, it *is*. Stop trying to protect me cause I screwed up. We both know it. I should've been more careful, I should've told you everything sooner, I should've dealt with my mistakes instead of running away, I should've stopped you from coming with me, I should've seen that asshole reach for the gun, I should've ... I should've ... I should've ...

I should've pushed you away when I had the chance. What was I thinking? I don't deserve someone like you. All I'm ever good for is hurting people ... hurting you. I swear if you wake up, I'll never hurt you again, B. Please wake up.

Just ... please?

****

My neck was starting to get a crimp from staring up for so long but I never expected the thing to be this friggin huge. Maybe I should've paid more attention to Giles when he was talking it up before but it's not like I can do anything about it now. And the way I figure it, everything blows up ... with the judicious application of enough explosives, that is.

I just really, really hope Xander got enough explosives cause dying wasn't on my to do list for today. Sitting through a boring graduation speech, getting ready to kick ass, and doing it all before six so I could go back to the hospital --- those were on the list ... definitely not getting eaten by a 50 foot snaky demon. Who would've thought that a couple of minutes ago, this had been the Mayor? But there wasn't any time to think about it now --- just enough time to make sure Willow and everybody else were holding their own against the vamps that had decided to come out and take advantage of the sudden darkness before I joined Angel who was crouched off to the side. He'd come back right after Buffy had gone down, sticking right through till now. Couldn't say I wasn't glad for the back up but fat chance of me actually saying it to him though.

"Ready?" His scowl was already in place so I knew he meant business. I nod back and he picks up the javelin lying next to him, launching it with a grunt at the former Mayor's midsection. It hits its mark, right below what I'm guessing is the thing's throat which makes it squeal like a pig before the slaughter.

The plan was pretty simple actually. Make it mad enough to act stupid ... stupid enough to run after Angel who was gonna lure him to the room we'd chocked full of explosives. Only thing was, it didn't give chase even with Angel waving his arms like a manic crossing guard, trying to get its attention. So what else could I do? Stand there and watch the only fucking plan we had come apart at the seams?

I don't think so.

The knife I had strapped to my boot was already in my hand as I ran full tilt towards it. I was completely winging it on the fly as I ran around to its back, climbing as far up as I could. With all the bucking and slithering and all around smoothness of its skin, it wasn't too damn easy.

It was totally pissed off too --- you could tell by the thrashing and the howling and it wasn't making it any easier to climb the stupid thing. So I ended up halfway between the head and the tail and seeing as I was about to get thrown off anyway, sank the length of the blade into its flesh. It didn't like that much either, judging by how far it threw me. I'd say a hundred feet easy.

Lying there, crumpled up on the grass, waiting for my lungs to draw in air again, I could've sworn I heard Buffy call my name. "Faith." Almost a whisper. Maybe my mind's playing games on me. Maybe I got threw harder than I thought.

Even so, I wanted to answer, 'I'd get up, B but my legs don't seem to be working ... give me a few minutes.'

"We don't have time, Faith." That's not Buffy. "Come on." I was pulled up, half standing, half leaning as Angel dragged me towards the school while a giant snake slithered after us. Did you get that? I bet even if I got pictures of this, people still wouldn't believe me when I tell them this was what happened during my graduation. "We're almost there," the big guy says.

That was the last thing I remember clearly --- everything after that kinda blended into a big, blurry, B-movie mess. When Will filled me in afterwards, I was only sorry to have missed the big explosion. It's not like you get a chance to blow up your school everyday. And I heard it was a big one too.

"... so that's what happened, B," I finished, brushing my thumb across her cheek. "Can you believe the crap I have to deal with when you're not around? You've always been better at this Slayer gig than me."

The doctors were trying to grab their asses in the dark, trying to explain how Buffy might never wake up --- how this coma might end up lasting months or years. What the fuck do they know anyway? "You're a hell of a lot tougher than they'll ever know," I whisper, wondering why my breath was catching in my throat all of a sudden.

Sometimes, it was just easier for me to sit here and not say anything at all. Then I could pretend Buffy was asleep and she'd wake up like she always did, stretching like a cat and looking up at me with that adorably grouchy scowl on her face.

Sometimes, I'd have to get up and walk out of the room because I'd remember that Buffy wasn't *just* sleeping.

And sometimes, I'd have to get out cause I knew if I stuck around any longer, I'd end up shaking her or worse, trying to wake her up because this wasn't just anyone we're talking about. This was Buffy friggin Summers for God's sake and how the fuck ... how in the name of fuck could she get taken out by some lame ass Watcher?!

My hands balled into fists as I tried as hard as I could not to think about that day. What was the point anyway? I couldn't do anything about it. I couldn't make it so that Buffy wouldn't be lying in this bed today. I couldn't save her then and I sure as hell can't save her now. All I can do is sit here and hope that it even makes a bit of a difference. Do you know that I'm here, Buffy? Would it matter even if I weren't?

****

"Faith?"

At least that's what I think I said. What it actually came out sounding like was more of a cross between a croak and a squeak. It hurt my own ears to hear myself speak so I decided the best thing to do was to shut up and try to open my eyes which I hadn't realized until then were still closed.

Bad idea.

Nauseous, nauseous, stabbing, headachy, and did I mention nauseous, pain shot through my skull, beating an agonizing path down my body to land smack dab in the pit of my stomach. Let's just say, if there were a worse way to wake up, I'd rather be dead. I had to actually spend a couple of minutes just trying to suppress the urge to retch all over myself.

"Faith?" I gasped in between dry heaves that seemed to shake my whole body. Where was she? Why wasn't she here? Did something happen to her? The thought sent an additional chill down my spine. What had happened? The last thing I remember ...

Come to think of it, I couldn't really remember anything clearly. What *had* happened? Why am I lying in a hospital bed? Why do I feel like a herd of elephants had stomped their way across my body? And again, where's Faith? Where's anybody for that matter?

Painfully --- slowly, I eased myself into a semi-upright position, having to wipe the sweat from my brow at periodic intervals as the droplets formed and rolled into my eyes. I comforted myself with the thought that it couldn't possibly get any worse than this, hoping all the while that I wasn't jinxing myself. And just when I thought I finally had the situation in hand, the door opens and Faith walks in. We just kind of looked at each other for a minute --- me on the bed and her frozen in the doorway until I put on a crooked sort of smile asking half as a joke and half in relief "Where were you?"

"I ... I was ... " She vaguely gestured outside, her eyes still locked on mine and without wasting another word, rushed into the room, wrapping me up in her arms. In any other situation, I'd welcome the embrace but at that moment, the nausea resurfaced again, almost gagging me with its intensity as it took a firm grip on my stomach.

Faith backed away slightly until I got myself together again at which point, she hugged me again, making sure not to hold me too tight this time. I buried my face in her neck, the soft strands of her hair caressing my cheek as I breathed in the familiar scent that was all 'Faith' and no one elses'. It felt so right and safe in her arms that I could've stayed in that position for hours if it weren't for the fact that 'something' was off. I'm not saying I'm the most intuitive person in the world but when it concerns Faith, it just comes natural.

My nose scrunched up as I detected another scent mixing insidiously with the all too familiar one --- one wrapped itself around me like an old security blanket; the other made me want to back away. "You smell like smoke," I said, feeling my stomach starting to flip out again. I waited for an explanation which didn't come and after a few moments of silence, something else caught my attention.

I could feel Faith trembling. "Faith? Faith, what's wrong?"

Those words seemed to unleash a torrent of emotions as she suddenly buried her face into the fabric of my hospital-issue gown --- sobs wracking her body, shaking her with each breath. In all the time I've known her, I'd never seen her like this --- frail, vulnerable, undone ... so not Faith. What was going on?

I pulled her closer, ignoring the pain flaring in my back which eventually dulled to a manageable ache as we gently rocked back and forth, the motion seeming to calm her down. Eventually she straightened up, wiping a hand across her eyes. The gesture was so childlike that I grinned in spite of the situation.

"B ... shit ... I - I ... "

"Deep breaths," I coaxed, placing my hands over her shoulders and gently trying to rub some of the tension away. She looked up, her eyes shimmering with tears and smiled a crooked smile that wavered every now and then.

Just then, my stomach decided to speak up, grumbling its way into the conversation which immediately elicited a worried glance from Faith.

"Are you hungry?" She asked, straightening up. "Do you need anything? I should get the doctor. Wait here." And she's out the door before I could even get a word in.

There really wasn't anything wrong with me as far as I could tell ... well, aside from the earlier nausea and the ache whenever I moved more than an inch from my semi-upright position. Okay, so maybe getting the doctor in here wouldn't be such a bad idea. And getting something to eat would definitely shut my stomach up. But why was I in here in the first place? Why did I feel like I'd been worked over like tenderized meat? And why did Faith look like she was applying for membership amongst the living dead?

I wanted answers but it didn't look like I was going to get them anytime soon because just then, the doctor rushes in --- does his whole poking and prodding, 'hmming' and 'ahhing' routine with little breaks in between to order tests done on me. By the time he'd finished, mom and Willow had come in. Both had cried, both had given me hugs, and both looked more haggard than I was used to seeing either of them.

"Here you go, Buffy," Willow offered, holding out a glass of water which I gratefully accepted and then proceeded to guzzle down. I hadn't realized how thirsty I was until the first cool drops hit my tongue and made its way down my parched throat. When I finally put the glass down, I realized something else. They --- all three of them --- were staring at me.

"All right," I said, drawing out those two words as I looked around the room. "Can someone please tell me what happened? Clue me in on what I'm doing in the hospital?"

Willow frowned as she perched on the side of my bed. "You don't remember, Buffy?"

I slowly shook my head, trying to think back but only coming up with fuzz. Faith suddenly straightened up from where she'd slouched against a wall and folded her arms across her chest.

"We were in the airport," she started, her voice clipped, a few locks of hair dropping down to obscure her eyes as she stared down at the floor. "They were already waiting for us there and ... I didn't know they had guns." The last part of the sentence came out strangled and I knew she was reliving the events all over again.

"Faith ..." I tried reaching out to her but she didn't hear me or at least pretended not to.

"I tried to warn you," she continued in a rush. "But everything happened so fast and then you were down on the ground and I couldn't do anything about it and they ... fuck, those bastards were already gone." Her hands balled up into fists as she unfolded her arms to let them hang tensely at her sides. "I couldn't do *anything*," she repeated hoarsely, finally lifting her head up to look at me. I opened my mouth to say something but her stare made me mute. What could I possibly say to her if I couldn't even remember what had happened?

Her jaw clenched as she turned her head away again, moving towards the door.

"Faith!" I called out, finally finding my voice.

She paused for a second, her hand already on the door knob and, just for that second, I was sure she would stop. But without another word or even a backward glance, she pushed the door open the rest of the way and left the room.

"I'm sure she just needs some time, honey," mom said, patting me on the hand. "It's been hard on her."

"She practically camped out next to your bed ever since they brought you in," Willow added. "She'll be back. I don't think she could stay away even if she wanted to which ... she definitely doesn't."

"Will?"

"Yes, Buffy?"

"How long *have* I been out?"

She looked at me blankly for a moment before sharing a glance with mom. "A..A month."

"A month," I dully repeated, trying to grasp the implications of it. Was I really out that long? I've been in the hospital for four weeks? I've been lying in this bed for thirty days? It just didn't seem possible.

Mom brushed the hair back from my eyes, something she hadn't done since I was a little girl. "Everything is going to be okay now, sweetie," she said, smiling at me reassuringly. I nodded along but really --- is that true? Is everything 'okay'? Call me crazy but I found it a little hard to believe. But I just kept on nodding because it was the easiest thing to do.

"I'm kind of feeling tired," I said, looking from one concerned face to the other. And even though it was true for the most part, it was more of an excuse to be left alone --- at least until I could make sense of everything in my head without having to pretend to be fine.

"Get some rest then. We'll come back a little later." Mom smiled, patting my hand one last time before leaving with Willow. It was only after they'd walked out that I remembered I still had one more question I'd forgotten to ask them. And it was a pretty important one too. I know I'd been shot. I know I ended up in a coma and that it lasted a month. What I still didn't know was who'd shot me.

Yeah, that was kind of an important detail.

****

I was up to a pack a day. Exactly one pack every day for the last three weeks. Knowing Buffy, she'd probably find some way to make me quit once she found out my dirty little habit. Couldn't have a girlfriend who was a chain smoker after all --- not to mention a high school dropout, a grade-A bitch, and someone who can't watch your back for shit. Just tack another one onto the list. I'm used to it.

I've waited by her bedside for a month, praying --- frigging praying that she'd wake up. And what happens when she does? I'm the first one out the door.

Fuck.

I flick the cigarette away, watching as it arcs lazily across the ground, landing on the grass a couple of feet away. I guess I should go back to the hospital now, seeing as I've already avoided it for a couple of hours already, preferring to hang out in the cemetery. For some reason, being here made me feel less lonely. Like I said, I'm fucked.

My mouth tastes like shit and the back of my throat burns like a desert. That's why I quit smoking in the first place. But the habit --- lighting up, taking that first deep drag, tapping off the ash --- there's just something comforting in it. I shake my head, trying to get off the tangent and back on track.

The hospital. That's where I needed to be.

Buffy. That's who I had to face.

But just a few more minutes wouldn't hurt. It's fucking amazing how much I'm not looking forward to this chat we're gonna have --- cause there's gonna be a chat, there's no question about that. When isn't there a fucking chat. Me? I'm more of a do it and forget it kind of girl. Buffy fits into the do it, talk about it and then talk about it some more category. Why couldn't we just keep it inside? I don't understand why people tell you it's not healthy to keep it bottled up. Works fine for me.

... I need another cigarette.

So it's actually two butts later that I finally drag my sorry ass back to the hospital but who's really counting? I took the long way partly cause I needed to air out a little, partly cause I was still trying to avoid the whole thing for as long as possible. Hopefully, she wouldn't say anything about me smelling like an ashtray.

The hospital was ridiculously easy to get into even though it was after hours. No one tried to stop me, mostly cause there was nobody around. A couple of nurses here and there, sure, but they didn't even bother looking up when I passed. I guess you had to be bleeding like a fountain if you wanted to get attention around here.

Damn --- didn't want to think of that. It just reminded me of when I had to bring Buffy in here ... so much blood everywhere, all over my hands and on my clothes. I'd been out of my fucking mind that night, just waiting for her to come out of surgery. And if she hadn't? If she'd died ...

My feet stopped in front of Buffy's door. I'd walked this route so many times, I could've come here blindfolded. I just stood there for a few minutes, staring at the doorknob before reaching out and turning it. The room was still lit and my eyes immediately went to the bed where Buffy was lying, her eyes closed and her chest gently moving up and down with each breath.

All of a sudden, I had to ask myself exactly what I'd been avoiding all night. Just being near her makes me feel normal again --- like there's not a huge, gaping hole in my chest because there's no question she fills it. She fills *me*.

"Are you coming in or do I have to get up and drag you here?" The corners of her mouth turn up slightly as her eyes open. "Come here, Faith." The softly spoken command makes my feet move until I'm standing beside the bed, nervous beyond belief as if I'm standing in front of the Principal or something --- not like I ever felt like this in front of any Principal before.

Then she smiles at me and just like that, everything's okay again. How fucking amazing is that? Her hand reaches out and I meet her halfway, grabbing onto her as I crouch down, feeling her warmth and closing my eyes cause all these emotions rising inside make me feel like I'm drowning.

I feel her stroking my hair ... and it feels so good that I never wanted to move again. Even when I heard the door opening and someone coming in, I stayed right where I was, kneeling on the floor, my head pillowed on Buffy's chest with her heartbeat against my ear.

"Angel?"

That one word jerks me up as soon as it leaves Buffy's lips and wouldn't you know it? The King of Brood picks that exact moment to pop up unannounced. The exact moment when I'm actually feeling happy. It's not like I have anything against him --- he did save my ass and all with the Mayor. But he sure can pick the worse possible times to show his face.

"I heard you woke up," he said, closing the door behind him and nodding to both of us. "I just wanted to see that you were all right."

"Well ... I almost but didn't quite throw up earlier so I guess I'm better than I could be." Her hand's still running through my hair and I wonder if she even notices. Either way, I hope she doesn't stop.

"That's good," he says, nodding along as I put my head back on Buffy's chest. After a pause, he continued, "I also wanted to let you two know that I'm going to be moving to LA."

"When?" I don't have to look at her to tell that she's frowning.

"Tomorrow." I gotta say, I didn't expect that.

"Ditching us already?" I muttered, deciding to get in on the conversation.

"It's not that ... " he trails off.

"Then what is it?" Her hand's stopped. Damn.

"It's just ... something I have to do." Talk about vague. I've had fortune cookies tell me more.

"Then I guess this is good-bye."

I heard him shuffling around a little bit before he walked out the door and then everything's quiet again.

"That was kind of abrupt," she finally said, breaking the silence.

I grunted something as I tried to get closer to her without actually getting onto the bed.

"You're so cute when you're snuggling, Faith," she giggles, rubbing her fingers against the nape of my neck.

I grunted something else which only made her giggle some more and I couldn't help smiling at the sound. I'd missed it.

"Faith?" Uh-oh, here comes the serious stuff. "I love you."

I couldn't help it. "What?" My head popped up and I looked at her and she was just smiling at me.

"I love you," she repeated, giving me a tiny smirk as she placed both hands on either side of my face and pulled me in for a kiss. I had trouble swallowing as she finally pulled away and I started wondering if those were real stars I saw dancing in front of my eyes.

"B?" Is that my voice? It doesn't sound like me. "I'm sorry," I choked out. For every time I've screwed up, for every time I've made you cry, for every time you've been hurt, for being a screw up.

"Don't say that," she says, her eyes staring into mine as if she could tell what I was thinking --- who knows, maybe she could. "I might not remember what happened but I *know* you did everything you could to make sure I didn't die. Right, Faith?"

"But it shouldn't have come to that. I --"

She stopped me before I could get into all the reasons for how I'd fucked up. "Whatever you think you did to me, whatever you're blaming yourself for --- stop." She tilts my chin up so that I have no choice but to look at her. "Stop putting everything on yourself. And if, in the end, you still feel like you did something wrong then know that I forgive you, Faith ... at least know that."

"B ... " What could I say to that? "... I love you." There's that smile again and I could feel myself drowning from it.

"If you *really* love me, you'll get me out of here," she stated, making a face and breaking the serious mood. "I hate hospitals."

"A woman after my own heart."

****

I don't know what it is --- maybe something happened in my brain while I was in that coma. It's not impossible, right? Freaky stuff like that always seem to gravitate towards me like I'm some kind of magnet for the abnormal. But every time Faith even comes within a foot of me, I feel myself involuntarily reaching out and pulling her in for a hug. It's not like I'm freaking out because I *like* hugging my girlfriend --- actually, I like it a lot. I mean, who wouldn't like hugging Faith with that body and those looks and ... okay, I need to cool my hormones down for a minute because I'm getting majorly sidetracked.

Anyway, yeah, I like hugging Faith. I like touching her. I like being near her. And there's absolutely nothing wrong with wanting to kiss her either except that I don't ever remember being so ... obsessive before. That's one word to describe it. Whenever she's not around, I'm inevitably thinking about her and when she *is* around, there might as well be nobody in the world besides the two of us. Obsessive.

"Hey, Buff. Buff?" I turned to look over at Xander who's got this concerned expression on his face. See, this is exactly what I mean. I was so busy thinking about Faith again that I ended up in my own little world.

Trying to cover up the mental lapse, I smiled at him, asking, "Sorry. What was that again?"

"I was just asking if you were sure you're up to entertaining us so soon."

"Entertaining you? Maybe not. But letting you smooch off my food and lay around my house like a couple of squatters, I think I can manage," I smirked.

He immediately smiled that patented goofy grin as he laid back on the couch with Oz and Willow next to him. True to her word, Faith had gotten me out of the hospital the very next day which was actually yesterday. So, despite the grumblings from everybody, including mom who thought a few more days of hospital food wouldn't hurt, I'm now comfortably ensconced at home.

Coming back to the house was the only way mom would agree to it in the end. I didn't mind though because Faith had moved back too --- temporarily, at least. I curled up against my human pillow, feeling her arms wrap tighter around my waist as we sat on the recliner. I might still have fuzzy edges around my memory, incompletes next to my courses, and a body that's still banged up but I wouldn't have traded it for the world.

Just when I'd snuggled into the perfect position against my Faith, the doorbell rings. I was glad Xander bounced up to get the door because I sure wasn't about to move from my comfy spot. A couple of seconds later, he comes back in with Cordelia who was looking even more pissed off than usual --- wonder if she missed out on a sale or something? I hadn't seen her much since waking up but I couldn't really say I was surprised. This *was* Cordy after all even if she wasn't quite as bitchy as the Queen C of old.

"I'm here," she announces as if we're all blind and can't see her standing right there. "So let's bond already so I can get back to, you know, more *important* stuff. Oh and Buffy?" She adds, taking Xander's seat on the couch. "Sunlight ... it's your friend."

Glad to see some things hadn't changed. I guess that's comforting in a screwed up sort of way. "Hard to get a tan when you've been lying on a bed for the last month but I'll take that advice to heart," I sniped back.

As soon as we're all settled down again --- Xander having relocated to the floor next to Cordelia--- we started talking about what's been going on these last couple of weeks. So I didn't really have much to say but it was nice to catch up. It was such a 'normal' scene too --- just a couple of friends enjoying each other's company and talking about vampires and demons. Your typical Sunnydale Thursday, granted 'typical' is a subjective term.

"Now that we're all caught up with the past," Willow began, taking advantage of a lull in the conversation."What are we going to do about the future ... I mean, with the Watcher's Council and all?"

As soon as the last two words left her lips, I could feel Faith tensing up behind me. I turned around enough to look into her face which had turned into a deathly still mask, barely hiding the anger and contempt flashing behind her eyes.

"What about them?" She asked, her voice carefully modulated as if she was trying hard to keep from screaming. "As far as I'm concerned, there is no us and them anymore. They made it what it is and if I even see one of those rat bastards again ... "

"Shh ... " I sat up, bringing our faces together so our noses were almost touching. "It's all right, baby ... it's all right now," I repeated, trying to calm her down.

"B ... "

I smiled at her, feeling her muscles starting to relax as I placed gentle kisses across her face.

*AHEM*

There's that awful noise. It always means we have to stop whatever it was we were doing. I don't want to stop.

*AHEM*

I turned my head, glaring at everybody behind me but especially Cordy because she was the one who actually made the noise.

"Touching as it is to see you two groping each other," she proceeded, allowing my 'look of death' to wash over her without even batting an eye. "Can you two restrain yourselves and put aside the heavy petting until *after* I leave?"

"Do the words stick and ass mean anything to you?" Faith asked right back. But before it could devolve into an all out bitchfest, Willow held up her hands as if refereeing between two spoiled children.

"Okay, stop it," she said, turning a glare at both of them. We all knew her well enough to know when *not* to mess with her. This was one of those times. "If you want to fight like children, go outside. If you want to talk like adults then you can stay here." Not surprisingly, no one moved. "Good. Rational discussion is a good thing. Now let's talk -- but without the sniping," she added quickly.

"Like I said," Faith started, holding me tighter. "There's nothing to talk about when it comes to Watchers. They made their bed and now they can fucking die in it."

When the others turned to look at me, I simply shrugged, implicitly agreeing. "Whatever she said."

It's funny --- well, not funny in a laugh out loud way but still, it's strange there's so much more hatred on Faith's part than on mine. After all, I was the one that actually got shot. But I guess if it were the other way around --- if Faith had gotten shot ... the thought alone sends a cold shiver through my body and I lean back even further, reassuring myself that my girlfriend's still there. So if you think of it that way, it's not funny --- more like blindingly frightening.

"So that's a big ixnay on the Watcher's Council," Xander summarized, as sharply concise as ever, pausing for a second. "But you're still gonna fight the baddies right?"

"Right," Faith said.

"Of course," I added.

"Just making sure," he said, blowing out a breath he probably didn't even realize he was holding. "So aside from that big bit of badness, everything else remains the same."

His voice lifted up at the end, making it sound more like a question than a statement so I answered in the affirmative. "Especially if you count taking the same courses over again because you missed the finals due to a totally unforeseeable circumstance that you would have totally avoided if you could --- everything is totally, depressingly the same ... definitely."

"Okay, great," Cordy said with a false and chipper smile as she suddenly stood up. "I think that was my cue to get out of here before I become a permanent resident in this post-adolescent wallow party cum pit of despair ... oh, and by the way," she added, casually flipping her hair, already sauntering out of the room. "I'm moving to LA. Bye."

The silence that inevitably followed that bombshell of an announcement was accompanied by a menagerie of open mouths and furrowed brows. Cordy was by no means a model of tact and finesse at the best of times --- having never been required to hone those particular skills in her previous social circle but that was blunt even by her standards. Xander was the first to react to the news, albeit it did take him a couple of minutes to go from sputtering in confusion to actually getting up and going after his girlfriend.

"Did I miss something or is this a surprise to everybody else too?" I had to ask it even though, from the looks on their faces, it probably blindsided them as much as me. First Angel. Now Cordelia. Was there something special going on in LA I didn't know about.

"No ... total surprise being experienced here," Willow answered, shaking her head as though she still couldn't quite believe what had just happened.

"Same here," Oz added with his usual laconic expression still in place although I could swear there was the ever so slight cocking of one eyebrow.

Faith shifted behind me, sitting up straighter. "Can't say it's not her kinda scene though," she said, shrugging one shoulder. "I mean, think about it. The girl's a glamour queen. And where else would she go but a city that prides itself on being the fame whore of America."

"Faith ... "

"If it's what she wants to do, it's what she wants to do, B."

****

I don't know what made me think this was a good idea but it wasn't like I could take it back now cause Cordy had already spotted me and was walking towards the bench I'd staked out. Maybe she didn't want to be here either cause she was moving wicked slow. That only gave me more time to think about what I was doing --- which is never good no matter what Buffy says.

And no matter what anyone might've thought, when I first heard the news that she was moving to LA, it was like someone took a cheap shot at me. But to cover it up, I made it sound like I couldn't give a shit either way --- that's always been how it works with me. Show the world you care and you get stomped all over the ground so you might as well show nothing. With Buffy, it doesn't usually work cause she seems to see right through it. But it's still hard to open up to anybody else even though I know they're my friends and they're not out to screw me at the first sign of weakness. So that's basically why I'm sitting on a park bench in the middle of the night waiting for Cordy to show up. It's my own little way of showing I care ... but without the Hallmark Card cause that would just be cheesy.

She finally finishes walking up to me and takes a seat. At least part of her ass is in the seat ... a very small part cause she was looking like she was ready to bolt any second.

"Hey," I finally say when it looked like she wasn't about to speak first.

My innocent 'Hey' must've sparked something in that demented brain of hers cause she suddenly whips her head around to face me and asks "What do you want Faith?" No. 'Asks' wasn't the right word for it --- demanded, now that was closer to what it was.

If I was still the same person I was before I came to Sunnydale, I would've just snapped back, would've cursed her out while I was leaving, maybe even slapped her around a bit but I guess I wasn't that person anymore cause I didn't do any of that. "C, no matter what happens, you know I'm your friend and I'm gonna have your back but you really gotta lay up on the Queen Bitch act before you get slapped down." So I wasn't gonna get promoted to sainthood anytime soon but the girl was really starting to get on my bad side.

"So you called me out here to threaten me with physical violence? Gee Faith, ever heard of a telephone? It would have saved me the gas."

In the immortal words of Popeye, 'That's all I can stands, I can't stands no more'. "I know you need the money C but you don't have to rag on me just cause your daddy got his hand caught in the cookie jar." Soon as the words left my mouth, I wanted to reach out and grab them and shove 'em back inside me where they couldn't hurt anyone. Watching Cordy's face go from shocked to hurt to angry and finally to blank, I just wanted to rip my own tongue out and apologize. "I'm sorry." One out of two was a start at least.

The thing is, what nobody knows besides Xander and me is that Cordy's not rolling in the dough anymore. We kinda stumbled into her when she was working in that clothing store being bitched out by her boss. I was on a cigarette run, Xander wanted to tag along, and that incident was never mentioned again ... until now.

She didn't say anything --- didn't even look at me. "I'm sorry for being such a jerk," I try again. "You know how words come straight out of my mouth without stopping at my brain first. I--"

"Stop!" She holds up one hand. "Just stop. Tell me why you called me out here so I can go."

"Well ... that's just it," I said, rubbing a thumb across my right brow, trying to find the right words. Screw it. "I-I don't want you to go. I mean *we* don't want you to go. Shit, C, you can't just say you're going to LA and then dump us like that. We're your friends. We *do* care about you in case you haven't noticed."

"We're friends?" She spits out, the corners of her mouth twisting as she looks at me. "We're not friends, Faith. We were never friends. We're people that tolerate each other --- nothing more, nothing less. So don't bother airmailing me any house warming gifts. I'm leaving."

I grabbed her when she was about halfway standing, pulling her back down to the seat. Have you ever seen Cordy pissed off? Not a pretty sight. "That's a bunch of bull, C. We *are* friends," I stated, squeezing her arm a little tighter, hoping it'd get through that thick skull of hers. "Whether you like it or not, we care about you --- we care about what happens to you, we care about what you think, we care about how you feel. So deal with it and tell me the reason you're really moving."

We sat there staring at each other. She looked about ready to slap me so imagine my surprise when she pulled me into a hug instead. And this wasn't an ordinary hug --- this was a 'squeeze so hard, your breath comes out in a whoosh' type hug. Not having a clue how to respond, I figured I couldn't go wrong if I went with the flow so I hugged back. I felt tiny shudders running through her body and knew she was crying but I really couldn't do anything about it the way we were sitting except to hold on tighter. We stayed that way for a little bit until I felt her pulling away.

She brushed a hand across her cheeks, looking anywhere but at me. "Sorry 'bout that," she muttered, digging out a tissue from her small handbag and using that to dab at her eyes.

"It happens," I said, shrugging. Now was the time I really wished Buffy were here or even Willow cause they would've known what to do in a situation like this. I was so busy digging through my brain for something to say that I almost missed what she said next.

"What am I going to do here, Faith?" she asked, staring into the distance. I wasn't sure what she meant so I didn't answer, waiting for her to either say something else or get up and leave. It took a while before more words followed and when they did, they were hushed like she was searching for them as she was saying them. "All my life --- everything that I am, is gone. The house, the cars, my parent's marriage, my future. Gone." She furrowed her brows, still staring blankly in front of her as if she still couldn't believe it was true.

"Cordy ... " I didn't know what to say so I settled on her name. She turned, facing me and the broken look in her eyes made something painful twist inside me and all I knew was that I had to make it go away. "Come on," I said, taking her hand and pulling her up. "I know what'll make everything look better."

I couldn't sit and talk to her and make everything better like Buffy could. I couldn't offer her any great advice like Giles could. I couldn't even make her laugh like Xander could. The least I *could* do was drink her under the table and make everything seem all right for at least one night.

****

Mother hen: If you look that up in a dictionary, you'll see a picture of my mom, complete with her patented worried/anxious/weary expression not to be used in a facetious manner as it will result in immediate guilt on the party said expression is directed at. In this case, 'the party' is me and the guilt is overwhelming. My mom has never really come to terms with the whole Slayer thing even though she tries really hard to understand what I am and what I have to do because of who I am. But everything has its limits and I think mom's limit was breached a while ago.

It's not like I can blame her for how she's acting around me but I'd be lying if I said it didn't bother me either. I'm not five years old but she's treating me as if I am. And whenever I try to say something about it, there's that patented look and my mouth opens but nothing comes out. All I can do is hope it blows over soon or at least level off so she's not interrogating me every time I try to go out.

Faith says it'll take time for mom to deal with things and I understand that but still ...

And speaking of Faith, where *is* she anyway? She said she was taking a walk but that was twelve hours ago. Did she decide to take a walk to San Francisco?? For God's sake, she didn't even call. I keep thinking something terrible's happened and she might be in trouble --- maybe even hurt. And that thought's sent me running to the window more than a dozen times last night only to turn back when I've climbed halfway through because she might be on her way home right then and if I go, I'll miss her. How soap-opera would that be?

So instead of doing something, I'm lying here in my bed, staring at the clock which keeps blinking 8:03, waiting for my girlfriend to show up so I can yell at her for making me worry before I hug her because she's all right. I'm sure there's a parallel with the relationship I have with mom in there somewhere but I'm too tired for deep thoughts right now.

It wasn't until 9:11 that I finally heard the front door opening and you haven't seen anyone fly down the stairs so fast. By the same token, you haven't seen anyone dodge so fast either because as soon as I got downstairs, Faith had somehow gotten around me and was running upstairs. While I didn't get a good look at her, I couldn't have missed the smell of cigarettes and booze hanging in the air even if I had a cold. So to say I got pissed off that I spent all night worrying about her while she was out partying and god knows what is really an understatement.

I stomped upstairs which is hard to do in slippers and walked right into her room, all ready to spew my anger but she didn't even have the common decency to be there so I could spew. Instead, she'd locked herself up in the bathroom.

"Faith." I tried. I really tried to keep my voice in check. "Let me in ... honey." That last term of endearment came out sounding strained beyond belief. I heard something from behind the door but there was still no answer. "Fai--" The door swings open before I could yell her whole entire name and I see her standing there, her eyes downcast and her face a sickly pallor.

"H-Hey B." It's almost a whisper which makes me think maybe something *had* happened.

Reaching out, I tilted her chin up so she's actually looking at me. I'm not saying I could read her mind --- Slayer powers don't include psychic powers but I'd have to be blind to see that whatever had likely happened had been very, very bad. And when something really, really bad happens, Faith tends to do one thing really, really well --- clam up. Emotionally, verbally, physically ... she withdraws into herself. So I wasn't surprised that she shrank back from my touch. Hurt? Yes. Surprised? No.

"Hey ... um, look. I'm sorry I didn't call. I guess I forgot but I'm really tired right now so can we talk later?" Inching past me the whole entire time she was talking, she took off for her room as soon as the last word was out of her mouth and left me still standing there, still with my mouth half open and about to object.

So should I go after her? Should I leave her alone for now and grill her later? Should I just go to sleep? Think brain. Think.

But my brain must have been on hiatus or on strike because after finding out that Faith was all right --- at least physically --- the adrenaline had rushed out of my body, leaving a very tired Slayer who was still recuperating from a month long coma no matter how rough and ready a front she put up in front of everybody. Later sounded like a good plan as I shuffled back to my room, stopping only briefly to glance at the closed door to Faith's room before plodding on.

We definitely needed to talk but it couldn't hurt to wait awhile or at least until my eyes didn't keep closing of their own accord every couple of seconds. Long recovery times well and truly suck.

****

OH MY GOD!!! OH MY GOD!!! OH MY GOD!!! OH MY GOD!!! SHIT! What the FUCK is she doing in my bed?? Wait ... this isn't my bed. Where the HELL am I? And why the HELL is she next to me? Asleep? Naked? Next to me? OH MY GOD!!! OH MY GOD!!! Buffy. Gotta get out of here. SHIT, she's waking up. What am I gonna do? PLEASE DON'T WAKE UP. PLEASE DON'T WAKE UP. Where's my shoes? My shirt? My pants? Underwear? Fuck it. Gotta get out. Gotta get out.

I've been replaying the whole fucked up morning-after scene since ... well, since this morning and no matter how I look at it, I'm screwed. I'd slap myself but I can't seem to do anything but lie in my bed, stare at the ceiling, and wonder whether it was the fifteenth or the sixteenth drink that things started to go NC-17. I'd swear up and down to anybody that'd listen that I only wanted to cheer Cordy up when I took her out drinking. But I don't think that'll matter much when it comes time to tell Buffy.

Did the thought of keeping it from her ever cross my mind? Constantly. Every couple of minutes, I'm wondering what good it'll do to tell her --- I mean, it was a mistake --- a total one time thing that would never have happened if I was sober. So what good will it do for her to know?

How long have I laid here like this? An hour? Two maybe. All this time and I still haven't figured a damn thing out. Not about Cordy, not about Buffy, not about anything important cause I'm too bent on feeling sorry for myself.
My heart about gave out when the knock finally came at the door and since I froze up as soon as the sound came, Buffy eventually just let herself in. No one, I repeat, no one is as single mindedly focused as Buffy when she's fixating on something. And when she came in, sat on my bed, pulled me up to a sitting position, and stared at me with that hard line look, I knew I couldn't hide anymore ... wasn't doing that great of a job anyway.

"So spill," she said, holding my hands in hers with her eyes still boring into mine. All I could think was that this was it, no fucking way can she forgive me for this. But, seriously, could I blame her? I nearly went psychotic when she kissed Angel and this was definitely a hell of a lot more than a kiss. What right do I have to ask for forgiveness when I could barely do it when the tables were turned? "Faith?" She said my name, snapping me out of my daze.

"II ... um .." Really great start. Only way I'll top this is if I start drooling on myself.

"Let's start with last night," she interrupts cause I guess she figured I needed some help ... which I did. "What happened, Faith?"

She said my name again and I know it's just a name --- *my* name actually but still, I couldn't help looking away. "About last night ... " Taking a deep breath, I plunge on cause I couldn't see myself dragging it out any longer. "I slept with Cordy last night. I was so fucking drunk out of my mind and I know that's not an excuse but I don't even remember what happened. We were just drinking and I was trying to cheer her up but the next thing I know I'm waking up next to her and -- "

I didn't expect the slap. I didn't expect the tears either until they leaked out of my eyes. Yeah, the slap hurt but it was nothing compared to the look in Buffy's eyes. It told me everything I needed to know about myself that I'd started forgetting. I'm a low rent loser. Knew that even as a kid and I should have remembered that nothing I touched ever turned out gold. The look in her eyes finally made me realize it again.

"How could you do that to me?" Her voice comes out laced with acid as she keeps staring at me like I'm a stranger she's just now noticed living in her house. What probably makes it even worse is that she's the one who let me have the key. "You know what? Forget I asked that. I don't even want to know what went through your brain because I'm sure it wasn't much to begin with."

"B, I never--"

"SHUT UP! Shut up, Faith! Don't talk to me, don't look at me. Just get out!" She didn't wait for me to do what she'd said, instead turning and walking out the door. Every muscle in my body's screaming for me to run after her, to go on my knees and fucking beg her to give me another chance even if I didn't deserve it. But instead, I packed a bag with a few clothes and left. I don't even know why I packed --- it's not like I needed any of the stuff lying around. I guess I just wanted something normal to do so I didn't have to think about what had just happened. Did I really just piss on the only good thing that'd happened to me in my life? Or was this some nightmare I'd wake up from any minute with Buffy holding me and telling me everything was going to be all right?

Oh God, please be a nightmare.

Someone, please wake me the fuck up.

Single Daze