Complicated Grief | By : PencilNeck Category: -Buffy the Vampire Slayer > FemmeSlash - Female/Female Views: 3194 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 1 |
Disclaimer: I do not own Buffy the Vampire Slayer (BtVS), nor any of the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story. |
Chapter 2: Denial
“I’m not going in there.” Buffy crosses her arms.
“Suit yourself.” Faith turns away and walks through the open doors. “Faith! I can’t go in there!” Buffy points to the sign. World of Sex. In bright red glowing letters. She whispers, like it’s a secret. “It’s a sex shop!” Faith turns back, exasperated. “B! There’s a bar upstairs. I need a drink, and we need to lay low for a while.” Buffy cringes as she follows Faith through the store. Refusing to look as Faith laughingly points out her favorite DVD titles. Grateful for the empty elevator up to the third floor. “You’re doing this on purpose.” Buffy leans against the mirrored wall. Then thinks better of it, and pushes off again with an emphatic “Eww!” Faith ignores her. “Faith!” Buffy stomps. “You better start talking, or else…” “Or else what?” Faith looks at her. “You’re out of options. It’s either hang with me… or you go downstairs, try to hide that pretty blonde hair in a gimp mask, and take your chances.” The doors open, and Faith calmly strolls up to the bouncer at the door. “Hey Willie!” Faith smacks down on Willie’s upturned hand. “Hey yourself, hot stuff!” It sounds funny in Willie’s thick German accent. “Me and my girl need a private booth…” She nods over at Buffy, brows worming up and down on her face. “Es ist no problem.” He hands her a keychain, and looks Buffy over. “Sie ist schön!” Faith winks at Buffy. Then turns back to Willie, and with all seriousness. “Das schönste.” Willie waves them through, a big grin on his face. “What were you saying? Was it about me?” Buffy follows closely beside Faith. She doesn’t want to be alone in here. “How come you speak German?” “Here.” Faith hands her the keychain, and points to a door. “Go in there. Lock the door. Wait for me. I’ll be back in a sec.” “Where are you going?” Buffy clutches the key, fear all over her face. “To the bar, Twinkie.” Faith pushes her to the door. “Go. Lock the door. I mean it.” Buffy does what she’s told. She unlocks the door, and walks into a tiny room. Just a bed and a small table. An ashtray. And lots and lots of mirrors. Sure, it looks clean… She closes and locks the door behind her. She won’t sit. She taps her foot on the tile floor. Crosses her arms. Uncrosses them. How long can it possibly take to get… “B!” It’s barely a whisper. “Lemme in!” Buffy opens the door. Faith’s standing there with a giant tray full of cocktails and shooters, plus a mammoth pitcher of beer. “I didn’t know what you wanted…” Faith puts the heavy tray down on the table. Checks the door. Grabs a shot of something brownish-yellow and throws it back. Flops her butt down on the bed. Takes the pitcher and starts to pour it out into two enormous glass mugs. “Relax, B. We’re safe in here.” “Not from chlamydia!” Buffy looks around with disgust. “Do you know what people DO in here?” “In detail. And here’s a tip. If it grosses you out, you’re doin’ it wrong.” Faith looks at her over the rim of her giant beer stein. “The place is clean. So sit. Grab a drink. And I’ll get you up to speed.” Buffy sits gingerly on the bed. Grabs the second mug and takes a hesitant sip. “OK. I’m sitting, I’m drinking. Your turn.” Faith looks up at the mirrored ceiling. Pulls a cigarette from her jacket pocket. “Twilight.” She lights it, ignoring Buffy’s look. “What about them?” “Simone’s in it with them. Way over her stubbly head. She’s takin’ the risks, and Twilight’s takin’ the cash. I’m not sure what for.” “How do you know?” “They’re doing big jobs. Big safes full of money. But then they still gotta jump people for their wallets? Makes no sense. Plus, the guys at the airport weren’t part of her crew.” “So you don’t know anything for sure.” “Know more than you!” Faith grabs another shot and downs it. This time it’s blue. “I think they’re planning another job. It’s gonna be big.” “How big?” “Like ‘Anarchy in the E.U.’ big. But with Simone Vicious on lead and her Pistols backing her up.” “You’ve been working on that one, haven’t you?” “Kinda, yeah.” “It’s good. Paints a picture.” “Glad you appreciate the effort.” Faith reaches for two shots. One green, one a vivid purple. “Take your pick.” Buffy takes the green. ***** “Bleaagh!” Buffy downs another shot. Slams it back on the tray with a giggle. “Faith?” She flutters her lashes. “Yeah, B?” Faith’s voice is smoky. Mostly from the smoking. “We’re out of pretty colours t’drink.” Buffy points. “We should get more.” “Think you’ve had enough.” “Had th’same as you!” Buffy pouts. She waves her hand in the general direction of Faith. “Hey!” Faith waits. An amused look on her face. “You kissed me!” Buffy tries to look menacing. It doesn’t work out. “Sure did.” “Did I hit you?” Buffy can’t remember. “Not even a little.” Faith’s smile widens. Just for a moment. “Always figured I’d hit you…” Buffy’s lost in thought. “So you’ve thought about me kissing you?’ Faith’s eyebrows jump up. “NOOOO! Not… Well…” Buffy face gets a drunken version of serious. “Shut up! You’re bad. Bad Faith!” “Actually, I’m feeling pretty good about now.” Faith chuckles to herself. “So, we can have more tasty colours?” Buffy looks hopeful. “Nah. We should get moving. Can’t stay here all night.” Faith sits up slowly. “They’d charge me for that.” “I have a hotel room!” Buffy to the rescue. “They have tiny bottles in baby fridges. We can go there!” “The one you reserved under your REAL name?” Faith laughs. “Don’t think so.” “So where we gonna go?” Buffy starts to whine. “It’s covered. I got a place. Should be safe-ish.” Faith stands. Blinks. “C’mon.” Buffy tries to stand. “Can’t.” Buffy’s voice loses its playful tone. “Oh god.” She sways. Falls back on the bed. Looking pale. “I don’t feel so good.” “I’ll get you some water. And a bucket.” Faith rushes out. “Don’t move.” “No problem.” Buffy tries not to let her airplane breakfast out with that sentence. Buffy tries the trick that Riley taught her. Breathe in deep and fast. Push the air out through your mouth. Dig your nails into your palm. Concentrate on that. Feel anything but the nausea. Don’t think about the nausea. Don’t think about Riley… Buffy waits for the wave to pass. She sees her bag lying at the foot of the bed. Cell phone peeking out at her. Taunting her. She grabs it. Squints at the display. Finds the number. Presses the little green phone button. “Hello?” “Hey you.” Buffy’s voice is sappy. “Buffy?” “Yup! Was thinking ‘bout you.” A little lie. “That’s really sweet, but…” “Was thinkin’ ‘bout kissing. You. I like kissing you. Issoft. And your tongue tastes like cimmanon... cimm… cin-na-mon.” Buffy slurs. “Are you drunk?” “Jus’ a li’l teeny bit.” Buffy cringes when the sigh comes through the line. “Buffy. I have to go…” “Satsu?” Buffy looks at her phone. Puts it back to her ear. “SATSU?” She doesn’t hear Faith come in. She’s too busy re-dialing. It rings. And rings. And switches over to voicemail. “Satsu? We got cut off… I jus’ wanted to say hi. So… Hi. I guess…” Buffy tries to think of why she called. But Faith pulls the phone out of her hand and clicks it shut. “You’re using your CELL PHONE?” Faith chucks it into Buffy’s bag. “Did you say anything? Where you are? Who you’re with?” Buffy shakes her head. It’s a bad idea. Faith gives her the bucket just in time. “Geez B.” Faith holds her hair back. “Isss…” Buffy tries to talk. But the bucket beckons again. Once it’s nothing but dry heaving, Faith hands her a big bottle of water. She takes a big swallow, and rinses her mouth with it. Spits it in the bucket. “Issallyerfaultanyway…” “Sure. Sure. It’s all my fault.” Faith pets her head as Buffy gulps down the bottle of water. “It is! S’all your fault!” Buffy’s looking better. She tries to stand. It’s wobbly, but she’s upright. “Look, I gotta use the john. I’ll take care of this and then we’ll go.” Faith takes the bucket from Buffy’s hands. “Me too!” Buffy staggers to the door. “Fine. Just don’t expect me to wipe your ass for you.” “So gross, Faith.” Faith helps Buffy to the door. Her free hand holding the offending bucket away from them both. Walking down the hall, Buffy turns to Faith. “Hey!” A solemn look in her eye. “Whassa gimp mask?” ***** Faith wakes up. From a good dream for once. She stretches her legs out over the arms of the couch. Cracks her neck. Couches are for chumps. She stands and shuffles her way to the dresser. Pulls out a couple of clean tanks, a well-worn pair of black jeans, and a new-ish looking pair in dark blue. “B?” She yawns and peeks over to the bed. It’s empty. “Buffy?” She sets one tank and the blue jeans down on the end. Buffy can wear them and be grateful. The bathroom door is closed. Faith knocks. “You alright in there?” “Don’t come in!” Buffy’s voice is pure panic. “I’m just getting in the shower.” “Wasn’t gonna.” Faith chuckles to herself. “Last night’s bathroom fun was enough for me. Left you some clothes. Lemme know when you’re done.” “Okay!” It’s strangled, but calmer. Faith lies down on the bed. Crosses her legs, her head resting on her arms. She can smell Buffy on the sheets. On the pillow. She breathes in deep. Then, cursing herself, she gets up. Her eyes narrow as they pass over the nightstand. Buffy’s cell phone. Faith flicks it open. Checks it quick. No calls out. No texts out. Good. She hears a little metallic voice. “Hello?” Faith puts the phone to her ear. “Yeah. Uh, hi?” “Buffy?” “Who’s this?” Faith can’t be too careful. “I’m a friend of Buffy’s. Is she around?” “Are you in Scotland?” Faith wants to make sure. “How do you know where I am? Who is this?” “Oh. Right. I’m Faith.” “Faith! THE Faith? Jesus! Where the hell is Buffy? What have you done to her?” Faith grins. She’s famous… or infamous, it would seem. “She’s fine. She’s in the shower. Who’s this?” “Put her on the phone right now!” “Okay. Whatever you say.” Faith opens the bathroom door. Holds the phone up to the curtain. Which remains stubbornly opaque, no matter how much Faith tries to see through it. “Buffy, you got a call!” “Get out of here!” Buffy screams. Then she pokes her head out. “Who is it?” Faith shrugs. “She wouldn’t tell me. Seriously gotta work on her phone etiquette.” Buffy grabs out for the phone, losing her grip on the curtain. A flash of wet skin and curves. Faith tilts her head a little. Big eyes and big smile. “I was wrong. This beats last night hands down.” She ducks a bar of soap that comes flying at her head. She shuts the door behind her, but not before she hears Buffy’s quiet voice. “Satsu?” ***** “What did you say to her?” Buffy comes storming out, wearing last night’s clothes. A towel wrapped around her head. “Say to who?” Faith is sitting on the couch, watching German cartoons. “My friend! On MY phone!” Buffy blocks her view, waving the slim pink device in Faith’s face. “The phone you answered!” “It was an accident. I was checking to make sure you hadn’t used it again.” Faith responds calmly. Leaning over to catch the action on the screen. “It musta picked up her call when I flipped it open. And when did you get a puppy?” “Huh?” Buffy’s a little thrown. She walks to the bed, taking the outfit Faith’s laid out for her. Hides behind the partition, and changes her clothes. “You got a dog, right? You said something about a Shih-Tzu. Last night and this morning. Just like you to get a little lap dog.” “She’s not a lap dog. She’s my friend!” The tank fits alright. But the jeans are a little big. The waist is loose, hanging low on her hips. She reaches down to roll up the fabric pooling at her feet. “Man’s best!” Faith is getting excited. “But get a real dog. One you can’t vacuum up by mistake. Like a Pit Bull or a Rottie. Not some tiny piece of barking lint!” “Pay attention. I did not get a dog. You were talking to Satsu.” Buffy comes out in her new gear. Holding her shoes and her bag in one hand. “Sott-Soo! Not Shit-Soo. Satsu! Who is a human-sized girl. Not a pet.” She pronounces each word with spite. “Now, what did you say to her?” “Nuthin’!” Faith tears her eyes away from the TV. Looks up at Buffy. “I swear!” “You must have said something.” Buffy mumbles, caught on the edge between tears and anger. Faith watches the battle fight its way across her face. It’s familiar. She runs through her mental Rolodex of Buffy expressions… Pieces start falling into place. And suddenly, she gets it. Faith tries. She deserves some credit for that. She tries to hold it in. But the first snort sets her off. And she’s laughing. Laughing and she can’t stop. Buffy glares at her. She howls louder, pointing at Buffy’s stern face. Almost falling off the couch. “WHAT!?” Buffy screeches. “What did you do?” Faith trails off into a deep low cackle. “N-nothing… Seriously!” “Then what’s so funny?” “You… Mfffff…” Faith sucks in the air. Wipes her eye. “You… and Satsu! You… Phffft… You DID get a new lap dog!” Buffy’s look almost sends her off again. Watching the rage turn into shock. The shock turn into pure red-faced humiliation. It’s a perfect moment. Really. “Shut up!” Buffy walks up to the couch, threateningly. “You don’t know anything about anything.” “Oh really?” Faith stands. Still smiling. But there’s no joy. “I know you Buffy. And I know that whoever this poor girl is? She doesn’t stand a chance.” “You just stay out of it!” Buffy pokes her in the chest. “You don’t get to…” “Room Service!” A pleasant voice behind the door. “Just a sec!” Buffy watches Faith grab her jacket, a dark look on her face. “Where do you think…” “B! Are you retarded?” Faith whispers, pulling Buffy into a low crouch. She pushes her toward the window. “This is a hostel. They don’t have room service.” Buffy’s lips form an “Oh.” They both duck out the window to the fire escape. As Faith closes it behind her, she can hear something scraping inside the lock.
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