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She Sends Kisses	By : Prophecy Category: -Buffy the Vampire Slayer > FemmeSlash - Female/Female > Buffy/Faith Views: 3032 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Buffy and I do not make any money from this story.

Chapter List
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Part Five: Drifting

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All I know is that I'm here, drifting somewhere in the vast

Somewhere in eternity, and I never want to leave.

Where do I put the books? There's so many I could read

But they all are filled with lies.

Where do I put the lies? There's so many I could say

But it seems they're in the books.

I have faith that you're out there, living high up in the vast

Somewhere in eternity, and you're never going to leave

Have I been telling lies to myself?

- VAST, 'Here'

I start thinking crazy, like maybe it's all a plot to get her on the inside so she can kick my ass. She's gotta be coming here, why else would the warden have been asking me about our relationship? At least I already got a cellmate. That'd be all I need--Buffy and her snotty attitude sleeping in the top bunk. Like she doesn't already think she's higher than me.

I stay awake all night, thinking and worrying about it. By the time the morning bell goes off, I've torn the pictures off the wall and shoved them under my mattress to stop her eyes from looking at me accusingly. Blearily I reach up and tap Jay's leg a few times, and she sits up with a yawn.

I head to the showers, my mind still churning. I imagine Buffy sitting in a cell with four or five other women, waiting to be brought here. She'd be at county, maybe. Probably the roundhouse, though. Where they hold you 'til your paperwork catches up with you. If they're on schedule, they should be bringing a busload in today, including her.

As I shower, I wonder what it'll be like. When she walks in, hears the chants of "fresh meat". The girls playing grabass behind the guards' backs. I wonder if she'll cry, or if she'll just do her best to ignore them. I wonder how she'll survive. If she'll survive.

I wonder how the hell I do.

Two Slayers active at the same time--the council's best wet dream come true, right? But now what? Us in here, them out there.

"We can't save the world in jail."

Those were my words, coming back to haunt me now. It's not like I have this huge sense of sacred duty or something, but I've seen an apocalypse or two in my time. From the stories I've heard, every one that Buffy stopped was a close call, too. Just barely wrenching the earth back from the clutches of hell. Now what'll happen, next time some demented demon opens a portal or some vamp has a vision of enslaving the human race?

It's a little overwhelming. It makes me look up at the high, barred windows in the shower room and wonder if I could break out, even if I wanted to. Not that I like being here, but there's a kind of.. inner peace, that comes from knowing you're being punished for something you did.

But is this really a punishment? By sitting in a dank little cell all day, getting my meals and toiletries for free, having a roof over my head and clothes on my back.. is that gonna change what I did? I wonder if it'd be worse for me being out there, fighting for my life every night. Watching everyone else go around with friends or family, going on dates and getting jobs, while I'm stuck picking demon goo out from under my nails and trying to breathe with broken ribs every morning.

How is this life worse than that one?

Maybe Angel's been leading me down the wrong path all this time. He keeps telling me this is the road to redemption, the path to righteousness, whatever. But what the hell am I making up for here? It doesn't bring back the people I killed, it just gets more people killed. At the end of my twenty-five to life sentence, I wonder how many people will be dead that might not be if I was out there fighting for my redemption instead of waiting for it to fall into my lap.

I feel like I wanna scream loud as I can that I don't deserve to be here. Not like it'd be the first time they heard it, but it might be the first time the follow up was "Prison's too good for me."

All this time I thought the clink was the answer, that I was finally doing something right. But all I've done is take the easy way out, again.

My thoughts get to be too much and I slam my fist into the wall of the shower, breaking off a couple of the ugly green tiles, and causing everyone around me to stop and stare. Twenty naked women of all shapes and sizes, staring directly at me and lookingwigged.

One of them mumbles the word "freak" under her breath, and I feel myself racing head-on towards a total breakdown. I quickly stick my head under the water, rinsing the last of the soap from my hair, and walk away, pulling on my uniform without even bothering to dry off, and pull my hair up into a rubber band.

Why do I keep putting her on a pedestal she doesn't deserve?

What makes her better than me? She killed someone, same as me. She's gonna spend the rest of her young life in prison, same as me. She's always been better than me, at everything. Having friends, keeping friends, slaying, functioning. Only thing I've ever been good at is reeling a guy in and being a convict. Faith, the model prisoner. Sure, she busted a few heads at first, but now the other girls keep away from her, which is just how she likes it. Makes her bed, keeps her cell clean, turns in all her flatware at meals.

Maybe I'm just terrified that Buffy'll be better at me than this, too. That inside a week, she'll have the girls repenting and finding God and swearing to live a better life if and when they ever get out. Maybe she'll turn this whole place upside down, make the chicksthat've lost everything think they have something again. Buffy Summers and her brilliant prison outreach plan. I can hear thesoundbites on the news already, as they interview her in her cell. She'll squeeze out a few sympathetic tears, toss that golden blonde hair of hers--soft and shiny despite the cheap soap they give us, and engage the American viewing public.

"It's like that song, you know? I once was lost, but now am found. We can't change the past, so we all just have to make better choices for the future."

Gag me with an entire tea set for eight.

I'll tell you one thing, though. I sure won't be worshipping at the altar of Little Miss Our-Lady-of-Sunnydale.

No way.
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She Sends Kisses