FIC: Forge: Strike When the Iron is Hot

[Mad-Hamlet@xxxxxxx]

Disclaimer: All this belongs to Joss Whedon and Mutant 
Enemy(Grrr..arrgh.)



Drain Brameged Inc. Proudly presents.
A Mad-Hamlet Production



Forge
Strike When the Iron is Hot


I cried last night.


It's a wonder I havn't worn channels in my skin but I take 
care of it. Use Oil of Olay Nightime formula. 'Helping me look 
younger'. No, not really. It's some herbal thingie I got in a book. 
Wiccan stuff..makes me clean. Keeps me clean. 

Wish I felt clean.

Spike's story was just so awful though.
It's easy to forget just what he is even though there's a steady 
stream of reminders, his attitude, his cocky demeanor, all can be 
explained away by the mind as just 'A Punk'. He's not a punk though, 
he's a demon..a monster. Something less than human. Then again, humans 
can and do far worse. I know. Believe me I know.

So I cried and Buffy cried, we both cried. I think the reasons 
were diffrent though. She was crying for me, because she was sad for 
me being sad, she didn't ..she wasn't crying because of why I was. I'm 
not absoutly positive why I was either. I think I know though. 

I wasn't crying because of what had happened to me, and I 
wasn't crying for the girl in Spike's story. I wasn't crying because 
of nightmares and I wasn't crying because of guilt. I think.. I think 
I was crying because I was scared. 

Not of Spike, not of his 'reasoning'. I was scared because of 
his warning. That's what he was doing you know, giving me a warning. 
Except for the fact that I have friends, that I have a family..I could 
have become like that rich, beautiful woman in nineteenth century 
London. 

The way Spike tells it she was more undead than he could ever 
be.

That's not now though, now is lunch time, now is a break from 
classes, now it time to rest and put down my 'I'm fine now, no nothing 
happened to me ever' mask. It's..it's really hard. I'm more aware of 
everyone around me all the time. How close they are, how far they are. 
Are they going to touch me? Are they going to brush up against me when 
I'm not looking? 
Illusions..I get illusions too. Every conversation I can't quite hear 
or person I can't quite see..I feel like the center of attention and I 
have never wanted to be the center of attention. 

Actually I lied, the break is over, Buffy just left for a 
class and I still have a while before my next one. So I'm just sitting 
here, outside the lunch room. It's a nice day..it's always a nice day. 
Sitting at a park bench, got the remains of my lunch in front of me. 
Half eaten burger, some fries, no ketchup. Hate ketchup on my fries. 
Bleah. Mustard? Mmm..mustard and fries..yummy, but they're out of 
mustard today.

People all around me, some sitting, others standing, moving, 
some with food to eat, others with empty trays going to the garbage. I 
can hear laughter, over to my left. Pretty girl..she's got all these 
guys around her. They're joking, talking, smiling, laughing. One of 
them just offered her his coke. What a nice young man. Are you a nice 
young man? Are you a nice young man when the sun goes down? 

Goddess Willow, morbid much?

Yes.

If I was in her place I'd be screaming. But I'm not, so I'm 
not. Just..looking at the few uneaten fries in front of me. 

"I'm not here for anything. The bus doesn't leave for LA till 
four and I'm broke. Figured I'd swing by here and you could buy me 
lunch."

I don't jump though I am surprised.

"Hi Faith."

**

I'll never be able to get my library organised. Every time I 
try something happens. If I believed in coincedence I'd think it was a 
plot. Oh..wait I do believe in coincedence..hmmm.

So she comes crashing through my door hey willy-nilly without 
so much as a by-your-leave your grace. Not that I mind, she's always 
welcome I just wished she'd be a tad more..restrained?

"Giles, we need to talk!" She says.

"Eh..Hello Buffy, of course, care for a glass of tea?"

She just levels a look at me.

"No, I suppose not then." I say. "Well, I do happen to have a 
bottle of cola as well. It was for Spike, he says he sometimes liked 
his food to fizz."

"That was just so beyond the realms of helpful.." She begins.

"Yes I gathered, have a seat."

She does. 

"It's Willow" She says.

She has my absolute attention now. "Go on." I say.

"Something happened last night and it's got me worried, 
something to do with what happened to her and her powers. I think 
she's losing control."

She spends the next ten minutes telling of the events of the 
night before. 

"And after she collapsed in your arms?" I ask.

"I..I took her home. She was asleep so I put her to bed and 
..we went about our day today." She says. 

Buffy's talents are amazing, she can analyse a situation and 
come up with a viable and survivable plan of action in seconds. While 
she is reluctant to do so, what she learns she retains so if she meets 
a monster of a type she's fought before she remembers the best way to 
defeat it. However, lying has never come to her as gracefully.

I am positive there is more to her story but I will respect, 
for the moment, her 'privacy'. 

"And your concern is that what she might to do if scared?" I 
ask.

"No I'm worried what she'll do if she doesn't get her daily 
mocha fix!" She snaps at me. "Of course I'm worried about what she'll 
do. Imagine what might happen is some poor schmo taps her on the 
shoulder asking for notes or something? She'll smear him over the 
wall! I mean, don't your books talk about something like this? Some 
calming ritual or herbal knicknack? Maybe something will sever her 
powers temporarily? Anything?"

I let her rant for a bit she doesn't meant to be harsh but her 
frustration has got to find an out somewhere, just bad timing I had to 
be in the vicinity I suppose. 

Ah, she's run out of breath. 

"Well," I say. "To anwer in the order the questions were 
asked. I don't know, I don't know again and the last would probably be 
a very bad idea. You have to understand that Willow is now connected 
to the world in ways beyond a normal human, or did you think all those 
rituals, spices and candles were just for show?"

Buffy just looks at the floor.

"I guess..I never really thought about it." She finally 
mutters.

"Try to keep that in mind then for you have to understand that 
somehow severing her connection would be the same thing to you or me 
as ..well.. she's not expierenced enough yet for such a drastic 
analogy as say, plucking out an eye but Willow is well on her way. To 
sever that connection would probaby just add to her state of 
distress." 

Buffy shrugs. "That makes sense..I guess. Doesn't answer the 
question how can I help her? Can't be there all the time even though I 
want to. I know I can't protect her from everything..."

"Buffy." I say but she rides over me.

"...I feel like I have to do more, be there more, stand by her 
and protect her but that's not reasonable. There are other things too, 
the very ..what happened to her scares the hell out of me. How can I 
talk about it? I just want it to go away! To have things back to 
normal but that's not realistic either."

She gets up and starts pacing.

"It's some sort of vicious cycle. Happy, scared, happy, 
scared..it's like she doesn't believe she should be happy. And now 
this..magic thing. How do I help her with that? Magic isn't my area. I 
kick butt, not use eldritch forces!"

"Buffy." I say again but she just continues her tirade.

"To add to the whole mess is that I'm not sure protecting her 
is the right thing but then she gets all worked up again and I have to 
step in, have to make sure nothing happens. I love her Giles, don't 
ask how or why and don't you dare question the truth of it either. So 
I'm stuck in this loop of doubt, inaction and action. Well..hell with 
it then, if I have to protect her that's what I'll do. In every way I 
can."

She stops her pacing, seemingly pleased with her decision and 
now looks to me for a reaction, possibly support. 

"Buffy," I say. "Have you thought about maybe not so much 
being in front of Willow but more along the lines of being beside 
her?"

She looks at me.

**


"Hi to you too I guess." Faith says. "What is this little 
ritual called..no..wait, don't tell me..it's on the tip of my tounge." 
She snaps her fingers a few times. "Oh that's right, manners!"

I bite my tounge. Babbling or being witty right now would be 
bad.

"Right. Manners, okay so I pretend that I care and that you're 
the one thing I've been looking foward too all day and you buy me 
lunch. Sweet." She sits down across from me.

"Or," She says, grabbing my coke and taking a large swallow. 
"Ah, thanks, needed that. Or we can skip the manners crap and go 
straight to you buying me lunch. Either works."

I sigh and reach for my cash. This'll wipe me out for the day 
which means no mocha. Well, this weekend is off to a great start.

"Here." I say handing her the money. "Lines behind you. They 
don't care about student ID's so you shouldn't have any trouble."

"What?" Faith says snatching the money out my hand. "You're 
not going to actually get it for lil' ol' me? Whatever happened to 
manners?"

"I..uh..would..but..." Yeah, but what? How can you tell 
someone you spend, on average, the entire morning preping yourself up 
so you don't freak while standing in the cafateria line? More often 
than not Buffy get's my food for me while I sit at a very empty table, 
usually surrounded by empty tables. Safer that way.

Faith seems to catch on 'cause for a second her hard eyed look 
fades. But just for a second. "Chill Red, I got it." She gets up.

"Maybe someone will try to cop a feel eh? I havn't had to 
break someone's arm in ages." She beams at me and goes to the line.

I would be lying if I said my feet were not itching like crazy 
to go somewhere else. I have some 'emergency funds' back at the dorm, 
I could run there, grab a five and have a mocha wouldn't have to deal 
with this whatever it is.

She's back in under five minutes which is an impossibility, at 
best the line takes ten minutes to get through. She must have used her 
'feminine wiles' to cut. She sets the tray down in front of me. Three 
burgers, three helpings of fries and a pile of those little ketchup 
packets a good two inches high.

"You say anything about 'me liking fries with my ketchup' I 
will smack you." Faith says as she sits across from me.

"I'd rather you didn't." I say. "Smack me I mean. Cause it 
would hurt and I'm tired of hurting and if you hurt me I might..I 
dunno..go a little crazy and what with all the crap I've..we've had to 
go through lately, a 'little crazy' might wind being somthing really 
nasty and really nasty things..uh.. and that would be kinda bad. Don't 
ya think?"

I'm not trying to be threatening, or scary, I'm just nervous 
and my mouth runs away like it's prone to. Faith just looks at me for 
a second before tearing off the corner of a ketchup packet with her 
teeth. She spits the piece out.

"Yeah Red." She says. "It just might be."

I don't say anything as she dumps her fries all over the tray 
then, using one of fry cartons, empties every one of her ketchup 
packets into it creating a lake of the red stuff. Ugh, looks like 
cogealed blood. She catches me eyeing her 'labors', I'm sure I look a 
little squeamish.

"Ah, ah, ah, Red. No commentary please." She says. "It's just 
lunch, not a social event." 

"You've been to social events?" I ask. 

She raises an eyebrow. "Sarcasm miss you much?" She asks back. 

Chastised I fall quiet and let her eat. She inhales the first 
two burgers which are oozing ketchup and as if that wasn't enough she 
also dips the things into her lake-o-tomato.

She doesn't say anything, seemingy content to eat.
I don't say anything as I don't know what to talk about.

Leaving half her fries behind and the third burger she gets up 
to leave.

"Thanks for the lunch." She says before pausing for a minute. 
"Good conversation too." 

"Well..what did you want me to say?" I ask. "The only thing we 
seem to have in common isn't the best thing in the world! I don't even 
like ketchup on my fries and here you are drowning the damn things!"

She stops. 

"No Red, it's not one of the best things in the world. It is, 
in fact, one of the worst things and thats why I didn't want to be 
here." She says. Then. "You don't like ketchup on your fries?"

Without wanting to I find myself giggling. "Nope." I stammer 
out. "Can't stand the stuff."

She sits back down. "Blasphemy." She says with a smile.

We here an outraged squeal of laughter and turn to see the 
girl I noticed earlier, surrounded by boys, is half-heartily beating 
on one of them. He must have said something embarassing but she's 
pleased anyway, she's laughing while pounding. They're all sitting and 
laughing and having a good time. Faith and I just watch them for a 
while.

"When was.." I begin then falter off. Swallowing a few times I 
try again. "When was the last time you felt that safe?" I ask.

She sits silently for a minute.

"I can't remember." She finally say.

"Sometimes I wonder if I'll ever feel that safe again." I say.

Faith turns to look at me. Her dark eyes, which are usually 
either closed off, or full of passion and humor, are strangly hollow 
now. She looks tired. She looks like me.

"You never will." She says.

Once again I'm stuck in the woderful land of 'What do I say 
Now'. 

Faith sits for a few minutes staring at the the people at the 
other table for a few minutes.

"She's got 'Victim' written all over her." She finally say. "A 
statistic waiting to happen."

I'm still stuck in the 'never feel safe again' line of 
not-thinking. Faith gets up to leave.

"No!" I suddenly shout then more quietly. "Don't go. Please."

"Why not?" She asks. "You're not saying anything and, while 
you are a treat on the eyes I have better things to do."

"Because I.." I start before faltering off.

"Because you what Red?" Faith says. "I've done most of the 
talking while you've just sat quiet and harmless, and about as 
intresting I might add, as a mouse."


"BecauseI'mtiredofbeingscaredandquietandhavingnightmaresandmessingupan
dlosing
controlandjumpingateverylittlesoundI'mtiredofbeingaloneeventhoughevery
oneisaroundmeallthe
timeIjustwanttoudnerstand!!" I say in one quick breath.

Faith sits back down. "Why didn't you say so?" 

"How do you do it?" I ask again. 

"Do what exactly?" 

"Well..you're just..I mean so here and you're not worried that 
..uh..someone might touch you or that something might happen."I can 
feel a babble coming on. "You're relaxed and..and..I..normal, yeah 
you're acting normal so I'm thinking to myself 'how does she do that' 
so with that in mind I'll uh..ask..er..how do you do that?"

Brilliant. If I didn't feel so pathetic I'd probably be 
depressed. Wait..that doesn't make any sense.

"Being sober one day in three helps a lot." Faith says.

"Yeah but..that's not an option." I say. "When..uh.."

"Control." She says.

"What?" 

"Control. That's the secret. I'm in control of everything 
around me. If you breath a word of this to anyone.."

"I'll be mum." I say.

"I wake up scared, I spend the day scared and I go to bed 
scared. But I don't let it control me. I control it, I control 
everything, it's easier that way. It's easier if people expect the 
worst of you, easier to control them. That way I can almost feel safe. 
Almost." 

She grabs one of her leftover fries and drops it in the 
ketchup. Slowly, it sinks into the red stuff, just swallowed up by it.

"I am the french fry." Faith say. "But I won't let myself 
drown."

"But.." I say. "But what if another fry helped the drowning 
one?"

Faith cocks an eyebrow.

"I mean.. what if someone reached out to help yo..the fry?" I 
say.

Faith sits quietly and just stares at ketchup lake in front of 
her. One tiny tip of the fry can still be seen peeking above the 
surface.

"I don't know." She says then carefully pokes the tip of the 
fry with a finger driving it under the ketchup. "No one ever asked." 

She licks the ketchup off her finger.

"What..what if they asked now?" I say.

She shakes her head.

"You're lucky." She says. "You have B. Speaking of which when 
did that all start anyway?"

"Uh..." Yes! Four point Oh GPA, thousands of books read, large 
vocabulary and I can actually get out a 'Uh'.

"You love her." Faith declares.

Easy answer, I can answer that. Yes I can. "Yes." I say. 

See? Easy.

"And she loves you." 

"Yes...I.." Umm..

"Has she shown you?" Faith says.

"That's..er..that's kinda personal." I stammer.

Faith drums her fingers on the table.

"and.. well..yes. Yeah, I mean she's always there and she 
holds me and..y'know..other stuff nothing..I mean nothing major." I 
say. Why am I telling her this?

"No, I mean has she shown you?" Faith asks again.

Whoa! Hey, now that is getting really personal! What buisness 
is this of hers, what has this got to do with the topic of 
conversation?

What ..is the topic of conversation?

"No." I say.

"But you want her too." Faith says. She looks bored.

My mouth moves without me wanting it to. 

"Yes." I say.

"Why?" 

"I..that is..um.. it's ..more than desire?" I ask. 

"I believe you." Faith says. "But what more do you mean?"

"I..uh..I'm not sure." I stammer. And I'm talking and talking 
and I can't stop myself, I don't want too. "Safe..warm..good memories. 
I want good memories. I don't just want to wait for things to become 
good, I want to ..I want..to make good memories, to make good times. I 
don't know why, but I'm just tired of waiting and waiting and ..people 
being nice and not caring. I want..I need something special! I don't 
want to drown but I'm tired of swimming and the ketchup is all so red 
and sticky and I hate ketchup, really I do and I don't want to sink 
but I'm getting so tired!"

Faith gives me a small smirk. "Ketchup?" She asks.

I smile, at..least I think I smile. It's been a while and I'm 
not sure what those feel like anymore. "I really..um..don't like 
ketchup."

"Now you know what you want at least." Faith says.

"I..do?" I say. "Yeah..I guess I do."

"So..tell her." Faith says.

"No no no no no no..not telling, can't tell, wouldn't work, 
couldn't do that." I babble.

"Why not?"

"Cause..maybe..I'm scared?" I say.

"Two choices then Red." Faith says as she stands up. "The 
first is simple. Be scared, you could always wind up like me. Which, 
now that I think about it might be kind of fun." She licks her lips 
while looking me right in the eyes.

"Don't..don't do that." I say.

"Just making sure I get all the ketchup." She snaps back. 

"The second choice?" I ask. Who is she? One minute caring the 
next..slutty. Is this what she means by 'control'? That if she says 
such and such and moves like so and so no one can get close to her? 

"The second choice?" She repeats. "Well, you tell B, or I 
will. Ta!" And she walks off.

"Faith!" I shout. She ignores me.

"Faith! Don't you dare say anything to B..I mean Buffy!"

Without turning around she just tosses me a wave. I sit back 
down and look at the two trays still on the table. One is still has a 
hamburger on it and a few fries along with a tub of ketchup. There's a 
french fry somewhere down there and I wouldn't trade places with it 
for anything in the world. 

Was this a good lunch or a bad lunch?


Authors Notes: I like ketchup.