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Okay. Third time's the charm. Not happy to be here!

Angel persuaded me. Anyone else, I would have said "screw that!" In fact, the first time she wrote to me, that's basically what I wrote back. Not very nice, I suppose, but I don't care.... so then she tried a second time. The bitch wrote to Angel and Angel called me.

Waiting in this same line again. I hate this place. The line's as far as I got the second time. Who knew they'd search my bag? Eight hours later, I drove back home with some of my weapons returned to me, thank you very much! That little jerk grilled me like I was planning on going on some rampage with a spiked club and some stakes. With all these guns around? Get a clue. Can't a girl carry her private things around and not wind up under interrogation?

Maybe I should have tried to come back the very next day, but I was too pissed. And any excuse to put it off, I guess. She didn't write again until a month later. Third try–just a sentence or two, same as before. No idea what she's after.

Even without my pointy toys, I'm still dreading getting up to the check-in desk.

"Name?"

"Buffy Anne Summers." I hand over the carbon copy with all the details. It all goes smoothly this time. Funny, the dread's still there. Don't think it's really just the check-in that has me freaked. Fact is, I never wanted to think about her again. There's nothing but pain there. Since I died and came back, I can barely deal with getting up in the morning, much less this.

With a sigh I join the people headed for the phones. What now? Looks like each phone has a number... must be a number on my slip. Can't find one, though. Crap, I don't know what I'm supposed to do. Can I see her from here? Don't think so, but they all look alike. Someone over there's crying. What a crappy place. Get me outta here now, please! Maybe she changed her mind... that would be too easy.

"Miss? Summers?"

I turn around. The woman's pissed. And wearing a uniform. What now? They think I can hide a weapon in this skirt? Maybe a sewing needle!

"CV's this way."

CV? "But I..." I gesture helplessly toward the phones, getting more confused and nervous by the minute.

She frowns. "The phones? Not much point, is there? Come on. Through there."

Another hallway, another desk... no line though. Hand over the slip? OK. Rubber stamp. "CV" and the date and some other nonsense. Whatever. Can we get on with this please? I bite my tongue and smile... not his fault I'm here. So... they're gonna send me back out to the phones? Or someplace we won't need phones? Frankly, the phone thing is just fine by me. Minimal contact, in and out.

Six chairs, but just me waiting. I have to read this sheet and sign it. Weird stuff... really weird. Like this whole place. I check off the boxes to answer some very personal questions. Medical stuff, et cetera. Is the government allowed to ask this stuff? Screw it, I don't even care. Signed and dated.

"Now what?"

The guy laughs. Annoying! "Easy there, doll, you've waited this long, what's another half hour?"

Hate this place. Hate the walls, hate the smell, hate it hate it hate it.

 

---

 

Why am I even here? Fifty minutes! She's changed her mind. Are they even gonna tell me? That's it, I'm outta here. I stand up with a yawn.

Oh no. Perfect timing. I bet that guard's here for me.

"Miss Summers? Your papers?" I show the carbon slip yet again. "This way, ma'am." I don't like his smirk one bit.

We're not headed back to the phones. We're going... outside? Not exactly. A courtyard with high walls. We're talking high. All the fun of the great outdoors and none of the sunshine. How could they make it any more depressing? Why, add a pair of trailers painted army green, with the wheels missing! And the windows taped over. Lovely. "CV-1" painted on the side of one, "CV-2" on the other.

Where to next on the Scenic Tour?

Right to one of the trailers. CV-1. Another guard is smoking on a bench to one side. She gives me a surly stare and leads me to the door, hauling out a key for the giant padlock.

You have got to be shitting me. "CV." Gotcha.

She mutters her little speech, almost too fast to hear it. "Two hours. Buzzer inside the door. Buzz and I'll let you out. Don't buzz in two hours, I come in." She pulls the door open and waves impatiently.

No way. Whatever game this is, I don't have time for it. Sorry, Angel. Not happening.

"Buffy?"

Wow. Never thought I'd hear that voice again. I step up into the trailer, against my better judgment. I don't see anyone at first. The door closes unexpectedly behind me and I go for the buzzer.

"Wait!"

My eyes are getting used to the dim light. She's sitting on a bed built into the far end of the trailer. I thought she'd be in orange like everyone else, but they let her wear civilian clothes. Or what passes for civilian clothes for her. I bet back in Boston she had a big fluffy winter coat that showed cleavage down to her belly button.

Faith. After all this time. I don't know what I'm supposed to think or do.

We stare at one another. Nobody says a thing. How weird did I think this would be? Well, it's even weirder. She looks like she doesn't even want to be here herself. Well, duh. Here with me, I mean.

She better say something. This was her idea, and I've come a long way. Twice! Not for her, either. I promised Angel. He says she's "repented." He of all people should know better, but she turned herself in, and that impresses him more than it impresses me.

As expected, she starts right off with her trademark blend of attitude and cruelty. "Uh... Thanks for coming, B. I'm... sorry about your mom."

I stare at her in shock, then lunge for her. Blinding rage. "You bitch!"

She's just going to let me hit her! OK, calm down. I swear she's about to cry. Damn it! She's serious, isn't she?

Deep breath. "Sorry. I thought you were... anyway. Um. Thanks, I guess."

"I mean it. She was an awesome lady. I wished she was my mom."

I nod. I can try to be civil if she can. But what exactly is this all about? "So what's with the whole 'conjugal visit' thing? You said you wanted to see me and then... this!"

"Sorry. I only get to have one CV partner. I didn't even fill out the form when I first got here. I don't have anyone. But later I wanted to see you... so I forged your name on the paperwork and I wrote to you. I'm sorry. I thought you knew that's what it was." She is nervous.

"I had no idea! It just said something about a visit. 'CV'? How would I know?! But Faith... what... why... ?"

She smiles for the first time. I'm so glad my discomfort brings her some joy. "Hold it right there, B! All I wanted was to talk to you alone. It was sweet of you to explore that gray area between 'skirt' and 'wide belt,' but I'm not interested!"

She refrains from commenting on my tank top... that would be the pot calling the kettle black! But she is really pissing me off. "I didn't want them to search me for weapons! That's why I didn't get in to see you last time."

"You came last time? They never said! I almost didn't even write to you again."

"Yeah, I came. I had some stakes and stuff with me... didn't even think about it. Not too smart I guess." Now I smile a little. It was kinda funny, really.

She laughs. "Well, thanks for coming... twice! It's pretty weird to see you like this."

"You can say that again." I sit down in a chair that's bolted to the wall. This isn't quite as bad as I'd feared. Plenty awkward though. I'm mad at her, but even worse, I'm mad that she's making it hard to be mad! After everything she's done, I am feeling guilty. For my nasty note I wrote back the first time, and for jumping down her throat just now. "So, um... was there any particular reason you wanted to see me? Now that the whole 'conjugal visit' creepiness is all cleared up?"

"I don't know..." She looks down. Ah, yes, one of the Three Faiths. Of course there's Fun Faith–who I actually got to liking once upon a time. She's kept her sarcastic head down so far. Mostly. Then there's this one: Pathetic Faith. I've always had a soft spot for her. Tried to help her. May as well try to help a baby cobra! And no doubt Psycho Faith will be putting in an appearance shortly. I'll be keeping a path clear to that buzzer.

Pathetic Faith continues. "I guess, mostly, I wanted to say I'm sorry. About the mayor, about... " A little shrug. "Oh god. About everything. That professor I killed. Xander. Willow. You. Everything. Buffy, I am so sorry... I know that doesn't mean much."

I don't know what to say. Pathetic Faith is getting to me. Again. I do not believe it, but she is. But what does she want? Should I tell her it's all OK? The things she did? They're not OK, and it doesn't matter what I think. I am glad she regrets doing them, though. She could be lying, but why? And I can't deny that she did turn herself in. All I can think to do is nod my head. She probably wonders if that means "apology accepted." So do I.

"Will you tell the gang I'm sorry? Willow and Xander? And Giles?"

"Sure. Whatever. I'll tell them. Not sure how they'll take it. Not sure how to take it myself, really." I think that sounded mean. Say something nice! She's in prison... maybe give her a break? That about sums up Angel's view. "So, uh, how's life?" Oh, very classy, Buffy. How's life after almost two years wasted in this awful place?

"I'm OK."

"You look great."

"Thanks. You too." The Fun Faith gleam sparkles in her eye. "Especially for being dead and buried!"

I'm getting the feeling she and Angel exchange letters from time to time. Which kinda pisses me off somehow.

Oh, god, she's crying. Poor thing! I sit next to her on the bed. In spite of myself, I put my arm around the baby cobra and ask what's wrong.

She's gonna make me cry next. Every now and then you can tell what a scared, lonely, hurt little girl is hiding inside. Usually a bit better hidden than this, though. She's blubbering something about my death. "I didn't eat for days, I... I kept thinking, if I had stayed with you... it wouldn't have happened. You wouldn't have died." OK, I'm crying now. I meant something to her. And, damn it, I guess that means something to me.

"When I heard you were alive again, I really wanted to see you. I wanted to tell you I was wrong. That I'm better now. I wanted you to forgive me. But I knew you would hate me. You should hate me."

I'm going to say it, aren't I? I'm actually going to say it. "It's OK, Faith. You're forgiven. I don't hate you." Suddenly she hugs me. I hug her back. Major waterworks.

Sniffle sniffle. Somehow I feel better, though. I do want to believe she's gotten better.

"You're a good person, B. A good friend." Another squeeze. Me? Her friend? After... everything? Oh, hell. That's Pathetic Faith for ya. Part of me actually wants to be her friend. Been there before, but... can't help it.

"Hungry?"

"Yeah, you got food in here?" I look around at the sparse interior. Everything bolted down... or simply missing.

"A romantic dinner is part of the deal, B!" She takes a cardboard box out from under the bed and pulls out two packaged dinners sealed in plastic. Yuck. "Already hot... sort of!" She hands me one and a spork. "I have nightmares about sporks you know. Me and a pack of vampires, and nothing to fight with but a spork." It's nice to see her smile again.

We slide apart and slouch against the walls at opposite ends of the bunk, meals in our laps. The food is so bad. "God, Faith, how do you stand it?"

"Actually this is one of the better meals," she explains wryly. But not even she can stomach the peas. They're gray... but I'm pretty sure they're peas.

"Almost forgot!" she jumps up and puts a tape in the beat-up tape player attached to the wall. "I got to pick one tape from the prison library. Pretty sweet deal, huh?" She hits "play."

"Is that...?"

"Yep. We danced to it at the Bronze. It was all I could think of."

I smile. "We had some good times, didn't we?"

"Every now and then!"

We exchange news. She's gotten her high school diploma here in prison. "College?"

She shrugs. "If I ever get out of here? Don't know what I'd study."

"I know the feeling. I'm considering a career in vampire slaying."

I fill her in on everything that's been happening in Sunnydale. College, money troubles, Giles, Xander and Anya... everything. "I think you met Tara?"

"Willow's witch friend?"

"Much more than a friend."

"I figured. Better tell her sorry for me, too."

"Well, they're so cute together you could die. And they took care of Dawn for me when I did die." Faith blinks at the mention of Dawn. "They split up, though. I hope they work it out." I tell Faith about Willow's troubles with magic. "And my sister's doing OK, I guess. It's been a pretty rotten year for Dawnie. Mom dead... then me." Faith frowns but I go on. "I suppose you know she's the reason I killed myself."

"I thought you were fighting Glory. That's what Angel said. What do you mean... your sister? Who the hell's this Dawn?"

"My little sister! Remember? She hung out with us sometimes!" Wait a minute... that's how I remember it... Oh! Faith doesn't know about Dawn. That's a long story, but I try to explain.

Faith doesn't get it. "Well... she's not your sister, why do keep her?"

"Now come on, you'd like her!"

Next I tell her about Buffybot, and she thinks I'm making it up at first. "Honest! Just like me. It was way freaky." I can tell Faith likes stories of things outside, so I tell her of some more of our adventures and battles.

"Wish I was there!" she keeps saying. It sounds like she's had a few daydreams about going after Glory with the Scoobies.

Then she gets personal. "So... how's the sex life, B? Any new boyfriends?"

"Well... um, just between you and me... Spike and I... sort of have a thing going. Not a good thing, really. I'll spare you the sordid details." Wait a minute, look who I'm talking to! I spare none of the details.

"Wow, B! These conjugal visits do get me all hot and bothered!" She goes on to explain her love life–or lack thereof. There are chances for sex here, and she has no shortage of female admirers, but she hasn't accepted any advances. "Ask me again in five years, but I'm holding out for a man! Of course, once word of you gets out, they'll all think I'm gay after all. I'll be fighting off girls with a stick."

Great. Word of this getting out... Nice thought. "Just a second, Faith... you forged my name on the conjugal visit thingie. I'm on record someplace as your girlfriend!"

She shrugs with a wicked smile. "Better hope I don't get out and go on a crime spree! They'll be knocking on your door!" I try to look indignant, but we end up laughing our asses off. Fact is, I'm not all that mad she did it. We did need to talk. For both our sakes. I can tell she's grateful.

"It's got to be awful for you here." Not sure if she wants to hear sympathy or not.

"It's not the best time in my life. Not the worst, either, though."

Poor Faith. "Would you do it again? Turn yourself in? If you had it to do over?"

"Oh, God, Buffy, don't get me started on 'if I had it to do over'...." She looks thoughtful. "Yeah, I would. Someone else was going to end up in here for what I did. I wouldn't let that happen. But if it wasn't for that... no. I wouldn't turn myself in. At the time I suppose I still would have... It was some penance for what I'd done. But now... seems like a pretty empty gesture. I could be doing some good if I was out there still."

"It wasn't an empty gesture, Faith. It's why I believe you when you say you've turned yourself around."

"Yeah. I guess it's what I had to do. Still... I'm not gonna get these years back. May as well be dead. May as well be in a coma." She starts to cry again. "Sorry, B! I didn't bring you here just to feel sorry for me. I'm not like this, really! I'm OK. It's just, seeing you again and everything... I'm not myself. Honest, I don't cry all that much here!" She's bawling so hard I can hardly hear what she's saying.

I scooch up next to her at her end of the bed and put my arm around her. I'm almost crying, too. The coma thing set me off, I guess. Damn it! Why does she have to be locked up in this place? "How much longer do you have here?" I'm afraid to even ask.

"Six years at least. I've been good, so I hope only six more years. It could be as many as thirteen, though." Oh, God! Crying for real now.

"Come on, B!" She sniffles and gets under control with a forced grin. "I didn't mean to get you upset. I deserve to be here. I just don't want to be. I get through every day, one at a time. I'll survive. That's one thing I'm good at."

"You're a hell of a good Slayer, too!" I think about that. Faith loved being a Slayer. "You must really miss slaying!"

"God, you have no idea. But actually, B, I have a little slaying experience right here in the old pen!"

"Really?" Turns out there was a guard on the night shift last year, abusing the female prisoners. Raping them.

"He never gave me a second glance, though."

"Well he's crazy, but I'm glad."

"Don't be. I tried to get his attention. Had to flash some boob, finally. Bastard." She tells me she finally got him to come after her. He entered her cell one night... and never came out. Another murder? Oh, Faith... she should have just reported him. He'd have gone to prison himself. Or maybe I'm just being naive.

"I knew him for what he was. He didn't know what I was, though. Not until it was too late. I fought him to the ground and staked him with his own club. Swept the dust out into the hall. Tossed his club and keys way outside the hall gate. Wiped off my prints, of course. No evidence." Thank goodness. A vampire!

"Did anyone see the fight?"

"A few did. A lot more heard it! After that, half the women here idolized me, and the other half were too scared of me to sleep! I was questioned, but I denied I'd even seen the guard that night. I did tell 'em that after he vanished, I told another prisoner I had killed and eaten him... just to scare her. So as far as they know, that's how the rumors started. Anyway, the other inmates used to be pretty hard on me, but not since then."

"Wow. That's some story."

"Yeah... Makes me want to be out doing that kind of good every night, though."

"I wish you could! I could use a hand sometimes."

"We were quite a team, weren't we, B! For a little while..."

"Yeah. I don't think I've ever loved being the Slayer more than back then. When we'd hit the town patrolling together. And then... you turned on me."

"I don't know what to say."

I put my hand on her knee. "You've said it. It's OK. I gave up on you, but it looks like you made it through! I'm glad. I thought I'd lost a friend."

"Me too. All of them, actually. I haven't really managed to make any real friends in here."

I'm really starting to worry about her. "Faith... Angel said... he thought you might... hurt yourself." I feel a surge of shame. That prospect hadn't particularly moved me at the time.

"I suppose I have days when I'm tempted... don't we all?"

"Yeah. I guess so. I've been wanting to die a lot since I... well... died. I was in a Heaven dimension and everyone I knew was happy and safe. Even you! But, Faith... don't do anything like that. You'll get out some day and you'll have your life back. You can make it a good one. Hang in there, we'll go patrolling again, you and I."

"I'll do my best. Don't think there's any Heaven waiting for me anyway!"

We talk over old times some more. Carefully selected old times, that is. Wouldn't mind some new times, though. Six to thirteen more years in here! Faith is pretty damn tough. I'd go nuts. Totally nuts. How am I gonna sleep, all cozy at home, thinking of her in here?

I get up and stretch, pacing around the tiny space. Seems tiny to me, anyway–and that locked door is really starting to get to me–but probably not to Faith anymore. I open a few of the cupboards. Empty. "No more food, huh?"

"They like to keep us hungry!" How can she joke about something like that?

"Here we go!" I've found the only things here. But no... not food unfortunately. A squeeze tube and a couple of largish plastic packets. "What the heck is a 'dental dam'?"

"You've led a sheltered life, haven't you, B?" She's grinning. Sarcasm incoming!

"I think that might just be the stupidest thing anyone ever said to a Vampire Slayer! Seriously, what are these?" I open a packet and take out some weird stretchy sheet. "Well, B, that's protection. If you were a man, they'd leave us condoms." I still don't get it. Faith explains and I think I must have made a face. She can't stop laughing. I think she might be making it all up, actually. "OK, so if these are for women, what's with the tube of lubricant? What to do two women need lubricant for?" She opens her mouth to answer but I cut her off. "You know... I think I probably don't want to know."

"Does Willow know what a stick in the mud you are?"

"What? I have no problem with Willow and Tara! They're great together! Just not my scene, that's all."

"Well, mine neither, so far!"

I join Faith on the bed again. We lie side by side in thought. I realize I'm not afraid of her. Not even a little bit. She really is so much better now.

"Almost an hour left, B... what do you want to do?"

 

---

 

I haven't laughed so much since... well, a long time! Before I died. Haven't felt much like laughing since then. Getting ripped out of Heaven puts a damper on the old sense of humor.

We've mostly been throwing peas at each other, giggling and screeching like children and hiding behind chairs and cupboard doors. If you don't think a cooked pea can sting, wait until a Slayer whips one at ya! Then I discovered how to fire them at pretty close to the speed of sound, using a dental dam like a slingshot. Faith laughed so hard she cried, and fell off the bed. We ended up wrestling for the remaining dental dam, smashing peas all over ourselves. I wouldn't want the job of cleaning this place up! Maybe Psycho Faith is gone... maybe she's moved on from evil and crime. But Fun Faith still very much enjoys being bad!

Now we're standing by the door, shouting for the benefit of the sour woman standing guard outside. "Oh, God, Faith! Yes! Give it to me!"

"Oh, Baby!..." Faith begins, but then she's laughing too hard to stand up, much less speak. Same here. After weeks of waking up each morning thinking life is just too hard to bear, I do believe I've found a little happiness here in this crappy prison trailer! Hell, a lot of happiness. Never thought I'd be connecting Faith with happiness again.

Back sitting on the bed, exhausted. "Faith, you have no idea how good it's been to see you like this. I felt really crappy about everything that went on with us. What you did, what I did... I just wanted to forget it all. But it never stopped bothering me. And I guess I never stopped wishing I could have made things work out better for you."

"You did plenty, B. It took a while to sink in, I guess."

"Well it's a real relief to have some closure finally. And I've had a great time." What's wrong now? Her lip is trembling. Oh! I reach for her hand. "Actually 'closure' is the wrong word, Faith. This isn't the end. We'll have to do this again sometime!" Her relief is easy to read.

"Sure thing, B. This is the best fun I've had since... well, since last time with you! I mean, last time not trying to kill each other..."

"How often can we do it?" No pun intended.

She's looking pretty miserable again. "Actually it's a one-time thing. We can file a request all over again, but no guarantees. Every other month is the most I've ever heard of, and that's rare."

"Well we'll request it! And I'll come see you anyway." Through the glass? Those phones don't sound so good to me anymore. "I'll introduce you to Dawn, maybe." As soon as I say it I'm thinking, no, Faith's not the kind of person I want my baby sister anywhere near. Then again... well, we'll see.

"Hey, tell Angel thanks," she says.

"I will, believe me."

She glances at the clock on the wall. "Looks like our time's about up! You better buzz."

"I'll stay until they come for us!" Me and Faith, making trouble once again! She squeezes my hand tight. I feel something like panic. They're gonna lock her up again. It's not fair! I pick a pea out of Faith's hair and we start to giggle again.

Banging on the door. Sound of the lock being turned. The door opens. It's a different woman now. "Sorry, but you're time's up. Gotta get Faith back inside."

We nod and get up. I give Faith's hand one final squeeze. I search for words of parting. "Next time, dinner's on me! I'll take you someplace for some human food!" Stupid thing to say.

Her face falls. "No. Not next time. Maybe some day." Tears in her eyes. Oh, hell. Looks like Pathetic Faith is the last one I'll be seeing today.

Tears on my end, too. "Some day, then. Count on it. I'll write to you!"

And she's gone. Led in one direction, guarded by the woman and a male guard, while some other guy takes me back the way I came. Faith's got herself totally under control already, as she's being taken away, but I just can't stop crying. God, what a shithole place to wake up to every day.

Faith's guard is the same guy who smirked when he brought me out here. I hear him say something to her with a lewd chuckle, and I just want to run after them and knock him cold! She answers loudly to be sure I'll hear. "Oh, Buffy was smokin'! Can't wait to get me another piece of that!"

I just know that everyone can see me blush.

No paperwork on the way out. Long drive ahead of me. Still crying. No... not crying, so much....

Laughing?

 

Followed by the story "CV-2"

 

I would be grateful if you would give me your comments and rate my stories in my Guestbook, or email me. Reader responses will determine whether I publish more stories, and will help improve them! Thanks for reading! (If you'd like to be notified when I post new stories, let me know.)

FAQ: The details of the conjugal visit thing are completely imaginary, not from experience, and may be quite inaccurate. I have never actually had a conjugal visit with a Vampire Slayer. I would, however, certainly consider it. Incarcerated Slayers may inquire here.

If you enjoyed this story, try Witch's Faith. Feeling rejected by Tara and Buffy, Willow finds herself helping Faith get out of prison–and falling in love. When the dark Slayer's plots turn deadly, Willow must betray someone she loves. But who will she choose?

Willow felt very exposed. "Thanks for leaving me my socks." Everything else she had been wearing was now in shreds scattered to the four walls. Faith's passion had been downright scary at times. There had been no question who was the natural predator and who was the willing prey.

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