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>Disclaimers and Notes: Mutant Enemy owns the >characters; I just borrow them to play. Written for >the first Buffy Lyric Wheel. Lyrics courtesy of Lore. > Sorry, Lore, this isn’t probably what you’re hoping >for, but the music said something different to me. > >Posted early with permission - I'll be at Norwescon >this weekend and won't have 'net access until next >week. > >I don’t consider Angel and Buffy to be separate shows >since they’re in the same universe. Spoilers lie >ahead. Caveat lector. > >-------------------------- >Not the Weather >By Alice in Stonyland >ali@stormy-night.org >------------------------- > >Faith remembers a different Willow, one who was >quicker to babble than the one who is behind the wheel >of a late-model Chevy, competently driving with the >stereo playing a mix CD of artists Faith can't name, >had never heard before, and probably won’t remember >come morning. The beat is good, though, perfect for >driving, and Faith finds herself wondering if Willow >would tell her more than she ever needed to know about >the band, if she were to ask. She doesn’t ask, >doesn’t want to break this companionable silence that >filled the last twenty minutes since they left the >Hyperion. Some not-so-small part of Faith is afraid >that if she breaks the silence, all the hurtful things >the other woman could say would come spilling out, and >Faith would be left with no defense. > >Instinctively, though, Faith knows that just as she’s >changed, so has Willow. The Willow Faith recalls was >nowhere near the assured, confident witch Faith met >less than 36 hours ago. She’d always thought of >Willow as a kind of shadow to Buffy, someone who could >look stuff up but never quite was a fighter in her own >right. The Willow Faith remembers was someone whose >ass she could easily kick, someone whose magic >wouldn’t be anything worth mentioning. Faith knows >she wouldn’t make the same assumption now. For a >moment, Faith wonders who else has changed, wonders >what kind of welcoming – if any – she’ll get when she >gets to Sunnydale. The dreams she’s had lately have >told her that she’s needed, that she wants to live, >wants to keep on kicking ass, but they haven’t exactly >given her much hope. > >Faith wants badly to believe that what she’s going to >face is worth living for, but she’s not altogether >sure Willow’s going to give her the strength she >needs. It hurts to admit that weakness: she’d made a >habit out of believing that she didn’t need to lean on >others, didn’t need someone else to give her anything. > The last few days, though, have proven one thing: she >couldn’t have faced Angelus alone. She isn’t entirely >sure, either, that she’s quite ready for what life is >going to throw at her next, but as was true of all of >her life, what lay ahead had to be better than what >she’d left behind, and if it was worse, well, she knew >how to handle worse. She sighs without realizing it, >wishing desperately that she could believe that her >life wouldn’t be more than trying to survive. >Wishing, really, that she wasn’t just leaving the only >people she knew believed she’d done something good, >something worth celebrating, to go and fight alongside >the people who remembered her best at her worst. > >For a moment, she wonders why she’s here, in this car, >headed for a destination known, a fate certain, and >straight into another apocalypse. Then she chuckles >sardonically. She’s a Slayer; she was born to die >fighting. There’s little else she knows how to do >well, save getting fucked and fucking up, and she’s >tired of that. She sighs again, more deeply this >time, and tries to settle more comfortably in the >too-stiff cushion of the bucket seat. > >"You OK over there?" Willow asks, glancing in Faith's >direction. The car is dark, the highway not well lit, >but there’s just enough illumination that Faith can >make out her features. > >"Yeah." Faith hesitates, finally finds the words to >name the restlessness crawling through her, making her >want to jump out of the car. She knows to do so would >hurt her physically, but death has never frightened >her. There’s trouble ahead, too much darkness, and >maybe if she left now the night would lose all sense >of fear, of foreboding. She feels naked, stripped to >the bone despite her success with facing up to the >fact that she hadn’t wanted to give up and die like >she’d always thought she would, if given the chance to >die a Slayer. Despite the warmth of the car’s heater, >she shivers a bit and pulls the edges of the too-new >denim jacket closer together. > >"Just...it's weird to be going back to Sunnydale. I >guess I kinda thought I’d be in L.A. for a while." > >"I can imagine. I wasn’t expecting to come here, >either, not with everything going on.” Willow glances >at Faith, shrugs. “I don’t mind. I just wish they’d >called me sooner – I would’ve found a way to keep >Angel’s soul from getting misplaced.” > >“You’re like major wicked with the witchiness now, >huh?” > >“Yeah.” There’s a certain sadness in the >acknowledgement Faith isn’t sure how to touch, so she >doesn’t, and silence falls again save for the sound of >a haunting soprano backed by a rhythm guitar coming >out of the speakers. > >When Willow speaks again, several miles later, Faith >has to turn the volume of the stereo back down. > >“Sometimes, when I get out on the highway like this, I >think about never coming back.” > >"So why don't you?" > >Willow doesn't answer for a moment. It worries Faith >more than she’s willing to admit, that the woman >behind the wheel isn’t as quick to speak as Faith >wants her to be. It’s just one more sign of how >things have changed, and Faith isn’t sure she likes >the constant reminder. > >“I had it all figured out, once. I was going to go >off to college, go to Harvard.” Willow sounds faintly >wistful, as if it’s a dream she hasn’t quite let go >of, but knows she will never get a chance to make it >come true. > >“What stopped you? You've always been the brainy >one.” > >“I used to think it was because Buffy needed me.” >Willow shrugs. “Then it was because Tara was there.” >Willow takes a breath. “Tara was. . . Tara made me >believe I could do anything, be anything. Now, now - >I'm not sure, except that Sunnydale is where I'm >needed. It's home.” She keeps her eyes on the road, >doesn’t look at Faith. "You could take off, y'know. >No one would know. They just know that something >happened in L.A. and my help was needed." > >"You honestly think anyone would believe you if you >told them I took a hike?” > >“Maybe.” > >The answer doesn’t come as quickly as Faith would have >expected, nor was it the one she expected. “Why are >you offering?” Faith probed. “You don’t think Buffy’s >gonna freak out when I show up, do you?” > >“No. Maybe. I don’t know. I used to know.” Willow >stops, exhales deeply. “I called the house and said >we were coming back, but Buffy didn’t take the call. >I’m not sure if the message got relayed or not.” > >“You don’t know? Why don’t you know? I always >thought the two of you were best friends.” > >“Until I brought her back from the dead and pulled her >out of heaven we were.” Willow’s voice is flat, >resigned. > >“You what?” > >“Didn’t Wesley tell you? Didn’t you feel something >happen? Buffy died a second time, about a year ago.” > >Faith inhales deeply. She’d known she’d suddenly >gotten a hell of a lot stronger, and the >Slayer-related dreams had been more intense than they >used to be, but she’d shrugged them off, told herself >Buffy could handle whatever trouble was out there. It >hadn’t occurred to her that Buffy had died, and all >Wes had told her was that Buffy had problems of her >own, that she couldn’t have dealt with Angelus this >time. Faith digests this information, then asks, “So >you couldn’t have just let her be? We’re Slayers >–we’re supposed to die young; that’s part of the job >description. We don’t get to live forever…just heal >faster and hurt more often than you, if you aren’t >fighting the demons, too.” > >“I know – we knew that.” Willow’s voice is soft, >regretful. “We were just were so sure she was in >hell, so Anya, Xander, and I found the spell to >resurrect her. Except we didn’t check to see if she >was actually in a hell dimension or not, we just >assumed she had to be. She jumped, you see, to close >a portal into a hell dimension.” > >“And she wasn’t?” > >“She doesn’t think so. She doesn’t talk about it >much, but then Xander released a demon who made >everyone sing and dance and the truth…just came out.” > >“I would’ve assumed she’d go to heaven.” Willow >flinches a bit at the remark, and Faith instantly >feels bad for it. “Sorry, but I would have. She >never murdered anyone.” > >“Yeah, well, grief does strange things to people.” > >There’s nothing Faith can say to that, save for, “I >heard that can happen.” > >Willow shrugs again. “We didn’t think, either, about >how the line of succession’s through you – that when >you die, the next Slayer gets activated. Or at least, >that’s how it was supposed to work.” > >“And now?” > >“Now, if Buffy dies, there’s a chance one of the >Potentials get called. It’s…fucked up.” > >“When isn’t it in Sunny D?” Faith retorts. “Seems >like I remember B saying that it’s not the weather >that’ll make you crazy, it’s the having to save the >world before midnight on Tuesday.” > >“You could still back out, you know.” Willow stops >the car a half hour outside of town, and turns on the >dome light. > >“Scared, Willow? Think I can’t cut it?” > >“You didn’t see Spike after the First got through with >him. You weren’t there to patch Xander up. Last >anyone knew you, you were helping the Mayor and using >Buffy’s body. So no, it’s not that I don’t think you >can cut it, I just don’t know if everyone else is >ready to believe people –” Willow glances at Faith, >hesitates. “That you can change, that you have >changed. There’s been so much of that happening, >lately. No one’s who anyone thought they were.” She >snorts. “Someone keeps forgetting that we’re not in >high school anymore.” > >Faith’s hand is on the door latch; her other hand is >on her seatbelt. She hadn’t locked the door, and the >car wasn’t the kind that automatically locked the >doors when it was put into gear. One small wrist >motion, and she can escape. Just like she’d escaped >all those times before, when things got too rough for >her to handle. Out of the corner of her eye, she >notes that Willow is staring steadfastly ahead. > >Faith lets go of the door latch and the seatbelt >release, turns slightly in her seat to face Willow as >a snippet of conversation pops into her head. That, >combined with the sudden edge in Willow’s voice, makes >Faith stop. For a moment, Faith assesses the other >woman, seeing a weary bitterness in her that she >hadn’t noticed before. > >“Let me guess, B was so shocked to discover just what >an angry bitch you can be. She didn’t remember you >gotta always watch out for the quiet ones.” > >Startled, Willow looks at Faith. > >Faith smiles humorlessly. “Must’ve shook you up >something big to find out they still believed in you. >Maybe B didn’t want to make the same mistake she made >with me. Maybe what you did was worse than anything I >could’ve dreamed of. Oh, yeah, don’t look so startled >– Wes mentioned you’d become this Big Bad until Xander >stopped you.” > >“He mentioned crayons,” Willow says in a small voice. >“I didn’t remember. Not anything, not anyone. I >just….” > >“Didn’t want to think about what was going to happen?” >Faith asks wryly. “Or thought you had it all figured >out?” From the way Willow’s hands suddenly tighten on >the wheel, Faith knows she’s scored a direct hit. “I >can’t claim innocence with evil – I don’t think any of >us can, really, not anymore, least from what I heard >from Wes earlier and what you told me. So if you’re >scared, Willow, whatever we’re up against is kick-ass >B-A-D.” Faith grinned. “But you’re not alone here. >You got me, a whole bunch of Potentials, B, and the >Scooby Gang. Way I figure it, the odds are on our >side.” > >Willow chuckles. “Rah, rah, go team go from the >Slayer no one expected?” > >“If you wanna see it that way, sure. I got nowhere >else to go, and I’m not going back. Not giving up, >either. So, girlfriend, you’d better put that car in >gear before I decide I’m better off walking into town >and showing up that way.” > >“I’m not your girlfriend, Faith,” Willow retorts >sharply. From the suddenly sheepish look on her face, >Faith knows that she didn’t quite intend to speak so >harshly. > >Faith laughs. “Don’t worry about it, Willow. I’ll >get over my heartbreak later.” > >“I didn’t realize you were-” Willow starts, only to >take another look at Faith and realizes that she’s >been had. Suddenly, she chuckles as she puts the car >back into gear. “You know, Xander bet you and Buffy >were doing it, back before you went rogue.” > >Amused, Faith leans back in her seat as Willow pulls >the car onto the highway. “Yeah, well, I seem to >remember he never won anything he bet. So, tell me, >why the hell did Buffy rescue Spike? Last I knew he >was still a soulless vamp.” > >“Long story,” Willow counters, then proceeds to hit >the highlights, managing to catch Faith up even more >with recent history. She ends with, “Never thought >I’d say this, but – I’m glad you’re here, Faith.” > >Faith quirks an eyebrow. “Maybe I should’ve just >given up when I had the chance,” she jokes. “That >sounded damned serious, like >get-the-hell-out-of-Dodge-while-you-can.” > >“Too late now, my pretty,” Willow retorts. “You had >your chance back there and you blew it.” > >“Not from where I’m sitting,” Faith murmurs, half to >herself. “Not from where I’m sitting.” > >Finis >April 12, 2003 > >Lyrics used starred below. > >Leather >Sung by Tori Amos > >look i'm standing naked before you >don't you want more than my sex >i can scream as loud as your last one >* but i can't claim innocence > >oh god could it be the weather >oh god why am i here >if love isn't forever >* and it’s NOT THE WEATHER >hand me my leather > >i could just pretend that you love me >the night would lose all sense of fear >but why do i need you to love me >when you can't hold what i hold dear > >oh god could it be the weather >oh god why am i here >if love isn't forever >and it’s NOT THE WEATHER >hand me my leather > >i almost ran over an angel >he had a nice big fat cigar >"IN A SENSE" he said "you're alone here >so if you jump you best jump far" > >oh god could it be the weather >oh god why am i here >if love isn't forever >and it’s NOT THE WEATHER >oh god could it be the weather >oh god its all very clear >if love isn't forever >and it’s NOT THE WEATHER >hand me my leather

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