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"You have a visitor," they'd said.
It wasn't the first or only time Faith had ever had one. Angel came at least once a month, Wesley every Christmas. Giles just once- when Buffy had died. Notice of Buffy's resurrection had come by letter- there was a lot more bad blood in Sunnydale; made sense that Faith wouldn't get good news in person.
Judging by Buffy's face when Faith is led to where she's waiting- in a private room, the first time any visitor of Faith's has checked one out- Faith wouldn't be getting good news today.
The two watch each other in silence as Faith is uncuffed and the door behind her is locked. There's a buzz and a click and they're all alone in the world, and Buffy's face never moves a muscle.
Faith wants, at least a little, to run to her, hold her hands, touch her hair, blurt out with her usual shitty insensitivity, Jesus, B, you look like shit. What the fuck did they do to you? Something about Buffy's pale white stillness and brittle-looking smile stops her. Faith once found a ruined book in her apartment building's basement, so old and so damaged that the paper crumbled in her hands when she touched it. Buffy's face reminds her a lot of how that felt.
Instead she approaches her slowly, the way you might a scrawny dumpster kitten, afraid of humans and their shoes and their tendency to throw things. She makes no noise. She keeps her hands where Buffy can see them.
The brittle smile becomes just the slightest bit less brittle. "That bad, huh?" Buffy asks, folding her hands in her lap.
Faith sits across from her. "That shocked, at least," she says, which is true even if it avoids answering the question. "They dug you up, what, two, three months ago now?" It's two months, one week, she knows, but it feels like it'd be creepy to let Buffy know she's been counting.
"Something like that," Buffy says. She sounds so distant that Faith regrets trying to downplay her own interest. At least the running clock of The World With Buffy In It might've made her feel attached.
Faith has nothing to fidget with, so she cracks her knuckles one by one and tries to look casual. "I don't know if I'm pissed it took you this long or just shocked to shit that you came at all."
"Could be both," Buffy says, like an offer. "I think you could make a case for both."
"All right," Faith allows. "Both." She puts one foot on the seat of her own chair, hugs her knee but tries not to look like she's hugging it. "What brings you to my humble home? At all and after all this time."
"I hadn't seen you," Buffy says.
Faith laughs, just a little. "You haven't seen me in almost two years, B."
"I hadn't seen you since the whole... dying... thing," she says, quieter. "Kind of has a way of making it seem longer. And weirder."
"Did wonder what time was like, where you were," Faith admits. "Were you gone a thousand years and then came back and it was all the same? Like Rip van Winkle in reverse?"
"I don't know how long it was." The answer is almost painful in its simplicity. How long? Don't know. The kind of answer that should be for laundromats and parking meters and pregnancy tests. Not months, maybe years, of a life. Of an afterlife.
"Long enough it's weird not to see me?"
Buffy shrugs, fragile slipping away in favor of awkward. "Giles said- you were upset."
"A little," Faith says. She'd blamed Giles, herself, and Buffy in that order. She'd punched the glass barricade at the visiting booth. She'd cut her hand to shit and spent two days in solitary.
Buffy's eyes seem to tell a plucky girl detective story. Giles hadn't told her all of that, but she seems to have figured it out anyway. "Right." She lays her hand on the table. Her knuckles are silver with scars that weren't there when last they met.
On impulse, Faith lays her hand next to Buffy's. Her knuckles are pretty identically fucked up.
Buffy tips her hand sideways, so their knuckles touch. So their scars touch.
Faith lays her head down so she can just watch their fingers for a moment and not have to look at how hollowed out Buffy looks. It hurts more than she would have thought. It hurts more than she wants Buffy to see.
There's a silence just long enough to tingle in Faith's spine, nerves flaring under her skin like she's in danger and not just sad and awkward.
"So I came," Buffy says.
Faith turns her head enough to look up at her. "So you came." She hesitates. "Does everybody else know where you are?"
Buffy shakes her head. "Not looking forward to explaining it later." She moves some of her hair away from her face. "Maybe I'll just pretend I went into a recent dead person fugue state."
"The truth would really be that much worse?" Faith raises her eyebrows.
"The truth would be really hard to explain," Buffy says. "I mean- Buffy's not adjusting well to life on Earth, so she went to see the only other person she knows who's equally maladjusted'? Can you say rubber room time?"
"And here for a minute I thought you missed me, B."
"I don't really mean it like that," Buffy says. "But any explanation I try to make to Xander and Willow is going to sound like that to them, so...."
"Better not," Faith says.
Buffy bites her lip. "Yeah."
Faith sits up straight, rolling her neck, and lightly flicks Buffy's fingers. "So you just wanted not to be the craziest one in the room?"
"Yes. No." Buffy shrugs, uncomfortable. "Since I came back, I just kept thinking...."
"Thinking...?" Faith rolls her hands in an out with it gesture that probably isn't as patient as she should be.
Buffy looks more hollow than ever. "Nothing's in control. Nothing makes sense. There's just- pain. And nothing you do means anything."
"Christ." Faith rakes her nails back through her hair. "You know I'm not, like, holding a grudge for that, right? Whatever happened to you, wherever you were, you don't have to come here and be sorry. I'm the one who's sorry."
Buffy's eyes well up, even though her face doesn't change. Crying on autopilot.
All at once, Faith realizes that making amends isn't what brought her here.
"Shit," she says. "Fuck."
Buffy laughs, tired and humorless. "That's about the size of it."
"They haven't noticed?"
"Everybody noticed," Buffy says. "Not the same as actually doing anything." She scoffs. "Like I even know what I want anybody to do, other than go back in a time machine and maybe not drag me back from the dead, like that's even possible and not just about the craziest thing I could ever say."
Faith brings one knee to her chest, then switches off and hugs the other, then puts both feet back on the floor. "I--" She shifts again and again. It's like she no longer fits in the room. "I know we were never touchy-feely huggy friends, but if you want...." She lets the offer dangle, formless.
Buffy spares her having to say more. She gets up and hugs her close, her arms tight around Faith's shoulders, her face pressed into Faith's hair.
Even expecting it for no reason other than Buffy's always been a nice person, Faith is not prepared for the shock of being held by her. Faith hasn't been held at all since she broke down crying on Angel in an alley. If she had had to guess back then what being held by Buffy would have been like, she'd have guessed soft and perfume-scented. That may have been true for Buffy then, but Buffy now is hard and sharp-edged: firm muscle stretched over bones that stick into Faith like stones wherever Buffy's joints are, especially wrists and elbows. Faith doesn't want to think things like wasting away, but it's hard not to when Buffy comes crying to her, barely even making expressions anymore.
"Think we got this backwards," Faith says, before drawing Buffy into her lap. There's nowhere else to put her. She sinks her fingers into Buffy's hair and waits for her to pull away.
Buffy goes with it, putting her head on Faith's shoulder and twining their other hands together. Faith wonders if the reason they've gone so long without ever touching each other except in anger was really because if they made contact, they'd never let go.
"Hey, look at that," Faith says, quiet. "Hugging accomplished."
Buffy lets out the kind of laugh that's more like she breathed extra hard. "And it only took one of us coming back from the dead messed up. Who knows what else we could do?"
It takes Faith a minute to think of something to say. There's a lot of wrong answers here and not many right ones. "You know anybody'd be messed up after that, right? It's not like there's something wrong with you."
"Maybe," Buffy says, though she doesn't look convinced. "It just doesn't really feel like it from my end."
Faith tries, at least, to keep the laugh short and soft. "Why? Because Queen B takes a licking and keeps on ticking, even if her ticker has to get rewound?"
Buffy gives a weak, one-shouldered shrug and asks, very quietly, "Don't I?"
Buffy in a nutshell. Sure, she could- and frequently did- feel sorry for herself. But only if she still did the hard and scary shit she's dutybound to do. If she feels like she can't, if she deep down and for real feels like it's just not gonna happen because she can't find it in her to want to do or know she has to do, then she must be fucking broken. Faith can't imagine the Goddamn Scooby Gang being any help with that. Buffy had rubbed some dirt on it with everything else, why not this, too?
Faith knows a thing or two about being fucking broken. It was other people's expectations that got you there more than anything else.
She squeezes the back of Buffy's neck, presses her forehead to hers. "You needing to be perfect is why it was always hard to be friends with you, you know."
Buffy snorts. "You thinking that Slayers don't have to follow normal people rules is why it was hard to be friends with you."
"Ouch," Faith laughs, but doesn't take the bait. She tucks Buffy's hair behind her ear and asks, quiet and gentle-like, "You think normal people would just walk off going out to the great beyond and coming back?" She hugs her tighter for a moment. "Most of them can't handle it when their favorite show changes timeslots."
"Do they kiss vampires when that happens?" Buffy asks.
"Not exactly something I remember being out of character for you before, B."
"Ugh." Buffy lifts her head. "What about evil ones that I don't even like?"
"Newer," Faith says. "Was it hot?"
"Depressing," Buffy says, regretful. "I think I grabbed onto him so hard because he was the only one who knew the truth."
"What, that you're falling apart?"
"That being dead was kinda nice, actually."
Faith nods. She hadn't even recognized the name of the Scooby who wrote to tell her Buffy was alive, but the letter had briefly mentioned Heaven. She wonders now if it's because they thought Buffy might come to her.
"You don't have anything you want to say about that?" Buffy asks, with a hard edge like she's already defensive.
"No. What's there to say?"
"I don't know." Buffy looks lost. "I was expecting something cutting about me being Little Miss Perfect. Or Little Miss Not So Perfect After All, maybe."
"You're sitting in my lap, B," Faith reminds her. "If I was gonna say something cutting, I woulda done it already."
"God." Buffy winces and pulls in on herself like she just realized where she is and starts to get up.
Faith grabs onto her waist to stop her. Hangs on.
Buffy looks at her, searching. She seems nervous and noise-shy, like she's taken one too many hard knocks lately and one good kick from Faith could finish her. There was a time not that long ago that Faith would have done it, too. Just jumped on Buffy's one moment of weakness to leave her smashed across the floor like a broken china doll. This time, she goes for a different finishing move.
"Did you ever think the reason you were kissing vampires and cuddling murderers was because we can't judge you?" Faith asks.
"I don't think being a murderer ever stopped you from judging me," Buffy says.
Faith shrugs. "Stops my judgment from mattering."
"That's definitely not true," Buffy says. "At least, not to me."
It starts like an itch in her spine. Faith's body wanting it before she realizes she does. She holds Buffy's face in her hands without deciding to do it on a conscious level. She kisses her forehead and both of her temples with only a little more awareness.
But kissing her lips is definitely a choice.
Buffy doesn't pull away, to Faith's surprise. She only kisses back a little- she's shy about leaning into the kiss, about the briefest touch of her tongue to Faith's. Wants but doesn't want, probably feels as fucked up about kissing Faith as she felt about kissing her vampire, and it's for that reason as much as any that Faith tries kissing her harder, pressing their bodies together, and bites Buffy's lip until she gives her her tongue for real.
They're both breathless when their mouths break apart, and Buffy's face is a horrified mix of desire and shame.
"I'm really messed up right now," she says, choked up, with a faint air of apology.
Faith reaches up to pet her hair and tries to make a joke. "I bet you say that to all the girls."
Buffy laughs, then sniffs. It's the second time she's starting to cry.
Faith kisses her lips again, just for a second. "Tell me something, B."
"What?"
"Did you ever wanna do that before?"
Buffy blinks. She hadn't been expecting that question. "What?"
"Back in the day, when we were just Slayer pals," Faith says. "Did you ever want to do that then?"
Buffy actually blushes. "Um. I mean. Maybe once? A little."
Faith wraps her arms around Buffy's waist, loose and companionable. "I wanted to all the time."
It's nice to see Buffy look surprised and distracted, instead of the worldweary existential dread she's been carrying around since she came in. "Why didn't you tell me?"
"Why didn't you tell me?"
"I don't know," she says. "Maybe I just didn't want to enough."
"Maybe." Faith shrugs. "I was just chickenshit."
Buffy laughs again, even though it comes out a bit like a sob. "Maybe I was, too."
Faith leans up and kisses her again. Buffy kisses back with less shyness, more energy, like she feels just a little more okay about wanting to. Faith slides her hands up and down along Buffy's sides, her thumbs just brushing bare skin at her waist where her shirt's ridden up.
"We maybe shouldn't be doing this," Buffy says, between kisses.
Faith considers not doing it for all of a second, then flips them around, pinning Buffy to the floor. "Only maybe?" She kisses her again and starts pulling Buffy's shirt over her head.
Buffy doesn't resist. "I'm still not great," she says. She unhooks her bra herself. "And I might be using you to make myself feel better."
"Then we've got a goal in common, B." She leans down and kisses one nipple.
Buffy's eyes close and her jaw drops, her whole body going into a writhe just from that. Faith cups her breasts, kissing the nipple again, then turning her head to kiss the other. Buffy's hips arch into Faith's and grind.
Faith groans, but retains the presence of mind to grab Buffy's chin. "Look at me."
Buffy does. She's flushed and panting and there's confusion in her eyes, but she holds still and looks.
Faith strokes her cheek. "You gonna hate me tomorrow if I do this?" She slides her other hand under Buffy's skirt, gently pressing her clit through her underwear.
Buffy gasps, then grinds out through clenched teeth, "Kinda cheating to ask me while you're doing that."
Faith presses harder, rubbing slowly in a circle. The cotton of her underwear is rapidly getting wetter. "Yeah, well, when have you ever known me to fight fair?"
Buffy rolls them over, straddling Faith's waist, pressing hard against her hand. "Don't go starting a war, now. You might not win." Buffy finds Faith's nipple with sniper-accuracy, pinching through her jumpsuit and giving a small, sharp twist.
Faith cries out and nearly bucks her off. Jesus, it's been so long since another person touched her. She sits halfway up, planting mindless kisses across both of Buffy's tits. She seizes one nipple in her teeth, biting hard enough to match Buffy's grip on hers. Buffy shudders hard against her and lets her nipple go in favor of grabbing onto both tits and squeezing.
Faith has lost track of who's winning, doesn't even remember what she would've imagined winning fucking looked like. She slides her hand directly into Buffy's underwear, parts her lips with two fingers and starts rocking them directly against her clit.
Buffy rocks back against her hand like her life depends on it and guides Faith's mouth to her tits. Faith grabs onto one nipple and sucks. She actually fucking whimpers when she does it.
Faith sits up, still sucking, and lowers Buffy to her back on the floor. Kisses her way down her belly while she tugs her underwear off. She pushes Buffy's skirt up around her hips and rests her chin on Buffy's mound.
She can actually feel Buffy's knees shaking against her as Buffy gasps out, "Oh God, please."
Faith nuzzles her pubic hair, kisses her thigh.
Gets to work.
They writhe together for what feels like hours. Buffy's thighs squeeze onto Faith's head so hard that Faith's almost afraid to move, scared Buffy might break her neck or tear her head off. She's so Goddamn wet, Faith feels like she could happily drown.
Buffy's gasping, crying out, holding hard on Faith's hair. Her face is red and her nipples are hard. Beads of sweat are dripping down her belly, glistening. Buffy's whole body is a light in the dark.
Faith wants to remember her like this forever.
"Faith, please," Buffy whispers, the corners of her eyes filling with frustrated tears. "Please."
"Come on, baby," Faith murmurs into her skin. "Come on, B. You can. Just let go."
Buffy arches against her face, grinding and pushing, so close and yet so far. "Please, please, please...."
Faith licks her once, twice, sucks hard while she slides a finger just a little into her asshole.
"Oh, God," Buffy moans. "Oh, God, oh, God--"
"Come on," Faith says, licking again, sliding her finger slowly in and out. "You can. You can."
Buffy bows her back, squeezes her own nipples, screams out and comes.
Faith lays her head on Buffy's belly as she slowly goes limp. They're both more exhausted than Faith can ever remember being. She wonders if they'll be able to go again.
She looks up at Buffy for signs of pain or regret. They're mercifully absent. Buffy looks tired, yes, but different tired; a better kind of tired. Spent.
And it's terrible, horrible, a stupid joke, but Faith just can't resist. "Hey, B?"
"Yeah?" Buffy asks, so hazy and sleepy with afterglow that Faith has to dip her head to hide her grin.
"Are you glad you came?"
Buffy sputters for a moment, stares, and for the first time in God knows how long, laughs a real, honest laugh.
Faith nuzzles her belly and drinks it in.
"You know, actually," Buffy says, stroking her hair. "I think I am."