FIC, Fruits of Her Labor, Scene 2, part 1

[BHV <bighotvirgo@xxxxxxxxx>]

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Song lyrics from "Devil Song by Beth Orton, © EMI Music Publishing,
Ltd., 1999. Lyrics quoted for entertainment purposes, no copyright
infringement intended. 

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I love feedback! 



Scene 2, part 1


When the devil comes blowing through your door
You'll know there's trouble, and he's coming back for more
You better keep what is precious hidden under the floor


Buffy sat in a chair at the kitchen table, taking a breather between
her second and third attempts at wrapping her throbbing, and now
seriously swollen, ankle.  She looked contemptuously at her nemesis, an
uncooperative ace bandage that lay in a tangled pile of loops across
the small table.  Feeling sorry for herself, she whined aloud, Shit! 
I just wish I had someone do this for me!

The doorbell always startled her but when it buzzed at the same
instant, she was more than a little spooked.  Eyebrows furrowed, she
looked around the room, even under the table, and whispered,  & Anya?

The doorbell buzzed again, then several more times in rapid succession.
Not able to sense anything particularly ghostly, she wearily pushed up
out of the chair, grumbling, Anya wouldnt be haunting me anyway,
shed be nagging Xander.  Its probably just the UPS guy.

Im coming! she yelled unsteadily, using doorjambs and furniture to
support herself as she hopped to the living room.  

Well, in that case & take your time, B!

The throaty accent was unmistakable, even muffled by the thick front
door.  Buffy stopped in mid-hop.

Faith?  Here?  Now?  She spoke aloud, as if demanding an answer from
the empty room.  Great.  Just & great. 

She paused and took a deep breath before opening the door for her dark
counterpart.

Well, here comes the emergency.

She swung the door open and there was Faith, standing on the steps,
pizza in one hand, soda in the other, patented smirk firmly in place. 
Hey, girlfriend.  

Buffy found herself a little dumbstruck by the other slayers presence.
Backlit in the late afternoon sunlight, Faith was positively vibrant. 


Jesus & shes & like, radiant & in a pushy & butch & very athletic &
natural born killer kinda way & 

You look good, Faith, she heard herself say.  Cleveland must agree
with you.  

Jeez, how lame do I sound?  No pun intended ...  

So &  As she gathered her wits, Buffy realized she was actually
pretty damn glad to see the other slayer, though more than a little
skeptical about what might have brought her here.  You just driving
by?  

Something like that.  Faith grinned, tossing her hair.  You gonna
let me in, or what?

Flustered, Buffy moved out of the way, forgetting her foot for a
second, then recoiling in pain as she had to reach back to hold the
door for support. 

Sorry ... ankle & stupid accident ... little while ago, she attempted
an explanation through gritted teeth.  

Faith sat the pizza and plastic bottle down on a hallway table, then
reached out to steady the blonde.  So, what didja do to it, anyway?

Buffy lamely gestured toward the back patio, Hurt it swimming.  Its
just cracked a little & I slammed it into the side of the pool.

The darker slayer was taken aback.  Pool?  You have a pool?  Wow,
wouldnt have expected that from the front of the house.  She
backtracked awkwardly, I mean, its a nice house, its just & kinda &
 

Small.  I know, Buffy gave an ironic nod, attempting to set Faith at
ease.  When I was looking at places to rent, all I really cared about
was having a pool.  I dont know what it was, it just felt like what I
needed most, you know?

I guess, Faith shrugged.  Not that much of a swimmer, but ya know,
Im pretty sure they make goggles & so you can see underwater, not run
into the wall and stuff, she grinned good-naturedly at the blonde, who
still stood hanging on to the door.  

Hey, lemme help you here.  You gotta get off that foot, so where
should we get you settled?  Dont know if you ate, but I brought dinner
just in case.  She held out an arm to the smaller slayer, a little
self-consciously.  

Buffy answered just as awkwardly.  Good.  Why dont we eat by the
pool?  I think youll like it out there.  She hesitated a bit, then
reached out and placed an arm over Faiths shoulder, allowing her to
take the weight off the bad ankle.  The two women moved slowly across
the small living room.  Buffy directed Faith, motioning with her head, 
Back through the kitchen here & and by the way, I do know about the
goggles &

Bracing the screen door so the blonde could step down onto the patio,
Faith laughed.  So, when I asked for pineapple, the pizza dude knew I
was headed out your way.  Way to go with the low profile, B.

Yeah, well I doubt Franks got his finger on the pulse of the demon
world, you know?  I mean, I dont think its a And ye shall know thine
enemy by their pizza toppings ... kinda thing.  Buffy smiled up at
Faith who still stood on the top step, looking out over the patio and
pool.  Nice, huh?

Nice.  The brunette nodded slowly, her smile broadening as she took
in Buffys backyard enclave, which was mostly taken up by the pool and
a bit of surrounding patio.  A vine-covered adobe wall encircled
three-quarters of the the pool, then fell away to offer a dramatic view
of the mountains on the western horizon.  Most definitely nice, Buff. 
Very mellow.

Yeah, the pool maintenance is almost as much as the rent, but hey,
Buffy shrugged.  This is where I really live.  Im out here most of
the day, and most nights, too.  This, she motioned to the poolside
table and umbrella, is my office slash dining room slash living room
slash bedroom.

Well, what say we get you settled at the dining room table and chow
down on some pie?  Faith held out her arm again, and Buffy accepted
it, a little more comfortably this time.

--

But looking back in retrospect
Did you ever really get what you'd expect?
Trying to rectify
Got lost a little further


Faith deposited Buffy on the lounge chair, then went back into the
house and collected the bandage and the pizza.  She jettisoned the soda
after discovering the wine rack on the counter.  Pausing in the doorway
and holding a bottle of red wine aloft, she asked, This OK with you?

Yeah, thatll work.  Strictly medicinal, of course, Buffy nodded with
a grin as Faith maneuvered across the patio, carrying the pizza, the
wine, two juice glasses, the ice pack and bandage, rakishly clenching
the corkscrew in her teeth.  

Faith unloaded the armful on the table, handing Buffy the wine bottle
and corkscrew.  Here.  Open.  Ive got to go back for the pillow.

Pillow?  Buffy looked acutely embarrassed, clearly not used to
guests, much less being waited on by them, especially guest that were
Faith.  Faith, really, I dont ... 

Faith waved off her concern, Get over it, princess, and returned to
the house.

Looking around for pillows, she was struck by how spare the other
slayers living quarters were.  Shed expected at least a modicum of
style but Buffy didnt even have throw pillows on the lumpy little
couch.  

'Joyce would rolling in her grave.  Wherever it is, now that the whole
damn town's one big hole.'  

Scanning the empty white walls, wooden floors worn soft with age, a
bare minimum of mismatched furniture, not even any curtains, Faith also
noted that everything was spotless and neat and the sunshine streaming
though the bare windows filled the small rooms with color and a quiet
energy.  She located the small bedroom, and entering, paused to look
around.  It too was all but empty.  

A group of photographs surrounded a large red candle on top of a single
wooden dresser.  Faith recognized two older ones of Joyce, Dawn, and
Buffy together and another familiar group shot of the Scoobs and Giles
from high school.  There was also a picture of Anya and Xander in the
Magic Box, a goofy casual snapshot of Dawn hugging Willow and Tara, and
finally, a more formal picture of just Tara.  Damn, you were really
hot, she whispered to the witchs photo.  Sorry I was such a bitch to
you that time & 

Shaking off that bad memory, Faith turned to collect a pillow off the
bed and head back to Buffy but was stopped by another photo on the
bedside table, this one of Willow alone.  She picked it up to study it,
surprised at the small shiver of arousal it evoked.  

Me.  Being this turned on.  By a picture.  Of Red.  In a frumpy ass
gray sweater.  Something is so definitely not right.'

During the years, sure, there had been the occasional dream or brief
sexual thoughts about the redhead witch  

I mean, hey, cute little butt, and ya gotta love the hair. 

 but nothing like this constant low-grade physical hum that seemed to
just be waiting to burst into flame.  And it had come out of nowhere,
starting the last couple of days at the motel, with the dreams.  

Jeez, the dreams.

The intensity and vivid imagery reminded Faith of slayer dreams and she
was willing to bet Buffy was also having them, or at least her own
version.  

They'd started the day after Buffy left, and continued for seven nights
straight, and oh, the things Willow and Faith did in those dreams ... 

The first few nights, they had still been at the motel and Faith had
found it necessary to just avoid the witch outright after immersion in
the hyper-realistic sensations of those nights.  At least Robin was
back in the saddle by then, though in light of his recent injuries,
she'd been forced to reign herself in.  

'Enthused' my ass!  You don't know the half of it, pretty boy!'  

Fortunately, prison had given her plenty of practice with sublimation.

Once the dreams had started, Faith became convinced that they were
somehow connected to the mysterious symptoms she'd had the day Buffy
left.  It had something to do with Buffy and Willow together, she was
sure of it.  She'd remembered the intense emotional energy between the
pair when she and Dawn had come into the room following her first
episode and, as for the second one, it was obvious what the slayer and
witch had been doing right before they showed up at the cafe for
Buffy's speech, even if Buffy hadn't tried to cover her neck with that
ridiculous bandana.  Her own experience still all too fresh in her
mind, and her body, Faith had known instantly what they had done and
that what she had felt was connected to them.

Definitely some weird mojo in the air.  And she wanted free of it.  She
didn't want to be in any way entangled with anyone that Buffy had
claimed for her own.  She'd been there, barely got out alive, had the
scar tissue to prove it, didn't want a return ticket.

'Well, Red, here's hoping you girlfriend doesn't kick my ass or worse
when I tell her what you and I have been doing in the Land of Nod. 
Faith sat the picture back down, picked up a pillow from the bed and
headed back outside.   

---

But when I found my peace
There was still mistakes
However painfully aware every step I take


Fourth times a charm, Buffy grunted, pulling the last of the bandage
tighter and fastening it above her ankle.  She sat back admiring her
handiwork, took a sip of wine and absently wondered what the hell Faith
was doing inside her house all this time.  The fact that there was
nothing hidden to find and nothing of value to steal, coupled with the
fact that Buffy didnt want to stand up and go find out made it a
fairly non-critical question.  Also, the sun was just about to sink
below the horizon and that was a moment Buffy waited for every day.  

Obviously, the twilight hour had been important during her tenure as
the chosen Slayer. For seven long years, the sunset had signaled the
beginning of her workday.  Shed always paid attention to it but had
seldom given it much deep thought.  But when shed first come here
after the closing of the Hellmouth, shed been acutely aware of it. 
The sunset pulled and pushed at her.  She knew she was no longer bound
to answer its call, and part of her relished the freedom of simply
being a civilian watching the pretty colors in the sky at the close of
day.

But that part, the newly-free contemplative young woman, struggled with
the Slayers innate relationship with the dark, her drive to protect,
to hunt down things in the night.  And the Slayer, so used to getting
her way, had struggled back mightily.  Learning to simply sit with the
struggle had been Buffys first real accomplishment during her time
here in the desert.  Somehow, she knew her job, the first order of
business in her new life, was to simply witness the struggle, not
resolve it one way or another.

In one direction lay the abstract concept of her identity, a myriad of
thoughts and explanations, and beyond that, the seductive extremes of
denial and distraction.  In the other direction, the reflexive impulse
to pure action, non-thinking physicality, and beyond that, the release
of violence without justification.

So every day at sunset, she simply sat and witnessed the light and the
dark and the in-between, inside and out.  No matter how bad the day
might have been, if she could manage to sit still for the sunset, she
felt like shed done something.

As the last bright red sliver flinched below the mountains at the edge
of the horizon, she glanced over at Faith.  Shed heard her come out a
few minutes ago, had realized that she, too, was watching and
struggling.  

About to speak, Buffy thought better of it, and both Slayers remained
silent for a few more minutes, as the sky went from turquoise to
indigo.  The lights in the pool flickered and came on, bathing the
patio in pale green light.  Faith raised a quizzical eyebrow at Buffy,
expecting her to speak.  

Nothing, Buffy shook her head, just fighting the impulse to ask
something stupid like, Was it hard being in prison? 

This time of day, always, Faith mused quietly, watching the
shimmering reflections from the surface of the pool bounce around the
walls of the patio.  Other times, not always.  Most times, yeah.  By
the end, it was kinda just routine, with the occasional explosive
random act of violence to break up the monotony.  Motioning for the
blonde to raise her foot, Faith slipped the pillow underneath it, then
positioned the ice pack on top of it.  She walked over to the edge of
the patio and picked up a folded chair, bringing it over to the table
and setting it up.  Pizzas gotten cold. 

Mmmm, good, just the way I like it.  Buffy reached for a slice,
pulling up the stringy cheese that stretched off the side, and piling
it on top before taking a bite.  Her mouth full, she said, I was
starting to worry that you were casing the joint when you went back
inside. 

Not much to case in there, B, Faith grinned and took a long swallow
of wine.  Gwendolyn Post was the one who told me all about the
Spartans, but you bring it to a whole new level, ya know?  She paused,
and finding no reason to lie, added I was looking at your pictures, in
the bedroom.  She finished her glass of wine and poured another. 
Howd you end up with that many pictures, anyway?  I mean, we just
barely got out with the clothes on our back. 

Giles.  Buffy said with a fond smile.  They were his, he had them at
home in England.  He sent them to me after I moved in here, as a
housewarming gift.

And they do.  Faith smiled.  Warm the house. 

Yeah, they do. Buffy smiled back.  And as for the spartan, she held
out her glass for a refill.  It helps me keep my mind clear. 

And is it? Faith poured the wine, then sat the bottle back down. 
Clear?  Your mind?

More than before, Buffy reached to snag the pizza box, and pulled it
over, reaching in for another slice.  Which is good, cause before? 
Not clear.  Nothing clear for a long time.  She shoved the box back to
Faiths side of the table.  

I dont know, Faith said, chewing, seemed like you had it pretty
together last spring.

Thats sarcasm, right?  Buffy looked out at the surface of the water,
feeling the prickly, scratchy blanket of guilt begin to wrap around
her.  

Thanks, Faith.  And fuck you.

Not at all, B, really. Faith assured her, continuing, In the end,
you figured it out.  Before, yeah, you made some mistakes, Faith
shrugged.  Welcome to the human race. 

Yeah, Buffy took a deep swallow of wine. Thats what I tell myself.


Right before you see Xander looking at you with his one big puppy dog
eye, right? Faith looked steadily and deliberately over at the blonde.

Usually, thats the first picture, yeah. Buffy nodded, holding
Faiths glance, trying to will away the images and the sounds that were
starting to rush up through her consciousness.

Well, thats the mind for you.  Its a relentless little bastard. 
Faith finished off the second glass and poured another, holding the
bottle, motioning with a nod of her head for Buffy to finish her own.  

You going somewhere with this, Obi Wan?  Buffy smiled grimly, then
finished her glass, holding it out.  Faith poured, and Buffy drank half
the glass in one swallow.

Take that, bad pictures.

Sweat popping out on her brow, she finished the other half.  Faith
raised an eyebrow, but didnt offer a refill.  Buffy reached for the
bottle and filled her own glass as the brunette just shook her head. 

For the record, I do get it.  Buffy sat the bottle down for emphasis.
Self-forgiveness. I know its important to let things go.  Its just
hard.  She hiccuped.  Its a struggle. 

Faith didnt respond, just continued to eat her pizza. 

Whats the word I want?  The Oz thing.  Thats what shes doing. 
Inscrutable. 

You get that, right?  Buffy had to ask.  That its hard?

Faith chewed and finally swallowed, washing the pizza down with more
wine.  I think what I get more ... now, I mean ... is why struggle?

Youre telling me you dont struggle, every day, all the time, with
all thats happened, all youve done? Buffy asked, her attempt at
cynicism thwarted by another slight hiccup.

Big liar.

I dont buy it, Faith. Buffy managed to swallow back the next hiccup.

Not saying I dont struggle.  Faith wiped her mouth with the back of
her hand, and paused in thought before proceeding.

I mean theres the consequences from ... all that, everything ... and
having to deal with it.  Even now, still dealing with it, every day ...
and the the amends ... plus the day in day out not killing of people
whenever I feel like it ... all thats a lot of work.  Taking another
swallow, she considered the remaining pizza, then grimaced and shut the
box, pushing it away.  

But the self-acceptance, self-esteem, self-forgiveness, whatever you
wanna call it ...   Faith rose out of the chair, stretching, popping
her neck.   ... I mean, first off, vice-president of the I Went Way
too Far and Did Really Bad Unforgivable Things Club here, B, she said
waving her hand.  So I know of what I speak, OK? 

Buffy nodded, queasily watching as Faiths waving hand blurred a
little.  OK.

I really shouldnt drink, at least not this fast.  

So, whos the president? she asked Faiths back as the brunette
walked away.

Huh?  Faith turned back toward her.

Of the club.  Buffy asked,  You said you were the vice president. 

The brunette just smiled.  Think about it.

When Buffy didnt answer, Faith held out her hand. About so high, cute
... good kisser? 

Good kisser?  Unforgivable?

Spike? Buffy hiccuped again.   

Faith rolled her eyes, and just shook her head. You know the answer. 
Maybe itll come to you later.

Frowning at the effort it was talking to follow the other slayers line
of reasoning, Buffy just watched Faith as she strode to the diving
board and sat down, putting her glass to one side. 

Faith began to remove her boots.  See, whether your minds clear or
not, whether anyone else forgives you or not, it comes down to whether
youre going to keep on living with yourself.  She pulled off the
boot, peeled off her sock, stuck it inside, and tossed the boot toward
the house. Or not.  

Faith removed the other boot and sock, and threw them away from the
pool area, then climbed up on the board and walked out to the end,
sitting down with the grace of a cat, knees up in front of her chest.  

So you keep going along, living with yourself, consciously, knowing
what youve done, what it cost, who you hurt, whatever, Faith
continued, talking as much to herself as to Buffy now.  

Every day, you get up and every night you go to sleep, and if you just
keep doing it, at some point, you stop and realize that somewhere
inside you, theres a part of you that accepts what youve done, thats
decided that, no matter what anyone else thinks, its not so bad that
you deserve to die.  

Faith kicked her legs out to the side, making the board bounce a little
harder, holding her glass out to the side to keep from spilling wine.  

And that part of you keeps getting up and living, taking care of
yourself, brushin your teeth, doin laundry, makin breakfast.  She
shrugged.  So why struggle?  Thats just your head ... mind ... brain
... whatever,  she pointed to her own head.  Up here?  Not big on the
forgiving.   

So, youre saying listen to my heart?  Buffy asked, cautiously. 

Im saying from where I sit, looks like your heart doesnt have a
problem with the forgiving, Faith finished off the glass of wine and
looked back over at Buffy.  

How would you know?  Buffy countered, a little defensively.  

Why am I playing along with this, anyway?

Cause ... the president?  Faith bounced again.  Of the I Went Way
too Far and Did Really Bad Unforgivable Things Club?  One more bounce.
Her pictures on your night stand.  

In one seemingly effortless motion, Faith rose and stood at the very
end of the diving board, arms out for balance, wine glass in one hand,
toes curled over the edge of board.  

Buffy just watched her silently.  

Look at her up there .... all ta-daaaa ... so pleased with herself,
just like Spike whenever he made one of his stupid little points ...
that were usually right ... about something that was right under my
nose ...

If you can forgive her, why cant you forgive yourself? Faith asked
quietly, before executing a nimble about-face and hopping back down to
the patio.  

Huh?  B?  When Buffy didnt answer, Faith turned and headed for the
house, calling over her shoulder,  Gotta take a leak, back in a few. 

Still silent, Buffy just watched as she went inside, carelessly letting
the screen door slam behind her.



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Willow: "It's a good fight, Buffy, and I want in."
Buffy:  "I kinda love you."
                     'Choices'

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