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I lock the door. Turn off the light. Then I crawl into the dry tub. My breath echoes on the hard enamel, like it would on the concrete by my prison bunk, and I feel just a little peace and comfort.

Just like in prison, I try not to make any sound when I cry.

I don't want to be this way. I can't blame B for being mad at me. But I can't help it.

I don't deserve to be free. I've been such a bad person. A bad Slayer. A killer and a traitor to my friends. And I'm afraid to be free. All my courage, all my strength... it's like it belonged to somebody else. I'm not a Slayer. I can't believe I ever was one. I try to imagine what I'd do in a Slayer-type situation. Like say a vampire comes at me from behind while I'm already fighting one. I know in my head some things I should do... but I can't imagine really doing them. I remember fighting like that, but it's like it wasn't me. And if that was me... and if I became a Slayer again... would I be evil again too?

And worst of all, maybe... I'm not sure I want to be free. I told Buffy I keep expecting to wake up... but I neglected to mention that part of me hopes I do. I crave the routine of prison. I crave the total predictability, the total safety. It was harder in there than I will ever tell Buffy, and I wanted to go home more than anything in the world... but at least I understood my life, and I didn't have to try to be my old Slayer self. I could play Slayer at a safe distance, with my maps and my telephone Scooby meetings and my stories of slaying out East. And I didn't feel guilty every minute. I was paying for who I am.

I found peace, for the first time since my Watcher died, by turning myself in to the police. And now I don't have that anymore. Maybe I need peace more than I need happiness.

Poor Buffy. She deserves so much better than me. We can't slay together. We can't even have sex. What's left for her to love?

The light changes. Shadows of feet outside the door. No knocking, but I see a note slip under.

What do I really want? Deep down? Do I, Faith Summers the ex-Vampire Slayer, really want to go back to prison?

Yes. I guess I really do.

But I also want to make a life with Buffy and Dawn. If only I knew how. And I'm afraid Buffy won't still be alive if I go back and serve my full sentence. She's lucky to have lived this long. We both are.

I feel sick inside at the way we just fought. At how I was afraid of my wife. It's like, for a moment, she was part of that outside I can't face. I need her to be my home, my haven. The one I run to, no matter what I'm running from.

Eventually I climb out of the tub and turn the light on to read the note. Dawn's handwriting.

"To exit bathroom, press button below knob, then turn knob right. Cocoa downstairs. No gross marshmallows. Buffy is sorry."

I smile a little, and then I cry again.

 

---

 

I gradually work up the courage to face Buffy again. I freshen up and head downstairs, feeling guilty and humiliated and useless. There is indeed cocoa.

Buffy gets up to meet me. I open my mouth to say how sorry I am for everything, but she stops me with a finger on my lips before I can speak.

"Faith, I am so, so sorry. I won't ever do that again. Trying to force you outside was so awful I can't believe I did it. I'm so scared for you that I can hardly breathe sometimes, and I did a really stupid thing. But I want you to trust me, Faith... I want you to know you always can."

My wife tries to kiss me but I don't respond. "Buffy... do you still love me?"

She gazes intensely into my eyes, willing me to understand her, and trying to understand me. "More every day, Faith." I let her kiss me, then I pull away.

"Will you still love me if... if I'm not a Slayer anymore?"

"If you're not a Slayer anymore I will feel very sad for you. You're an amazing Slayer, and the bravest person I have ever met, and you have it in you to do so much good. But I will always love you, no matter what. If you're not a Slayer, I will still love you. If you never want to make love to me again, I will be hurt but I will still love you. If you go back to prison–even on purpose–I will be devastated, I will cry every night and every morning, but I will still love you."

We kiss a little harder. I am so lucky. Poor Buffy.

"At least you've proven you can still fight," says Buffy. I nod and smile sheepishly. I know how bad she wants to train with me, but I just don't have any fight in me. Not until I was terrified, anyway.

Dawn retreated to give us privacy, but she returns when we sit down in the kitchen for our cocoa. I get a kiss on the cheek. "I thought maybe you could get a job working at home, you know, just until you can go out." The Creature wants to help too. Everybody wants to help. "'Cause you have to have a job for your parole, right? So I thought maybe–"

Buffy puts her hand on her sister's, silencing her gently with a smile. "Let's worry about that kind of stuff tomorrow. No more problems tonight. Tonight, I think the Summers girls have earned a nice quiet evening at home." We sit and sip our cocoa. The only sound is the clock ticking in the hall. It's nice after the bewildering chaos of the party.

This is what I want. Sitting here with my family, warm and safe and loved. Just like this.

It's time to answer my wife's question. "I don't want to go back."

She doesn't answer. She just lifts the backs of my fingers to her cheek and closes her eyes.

 

---

 

An alarm buzzes.

I never sleep until breakfast bell!

Where am I?

Every muscle tenses. The unexplained scent of the air stopped my breath even before I opened my eyes. Now I don't know what I'm looking at. A plain white ceiling? And that smell... faint, kind of flowery... but terrifyingly alien. I'm groggy from sleep and frozen in fear, unable to turn my head, just listening. Listening for the clang of a metal gate, boots on concrete... anything familiar. Please... anything at all! What the fuck is going on? Am I in solitary confinement?

Over the pounding of my heart I can hear... breathing....

"Buffy!" I snap out of my paralysis and grab my lover in near panic. She's warm and soft and her scent is anything but alien. It belongs here. Deja vu. I woke up in the same panic yesterday.

She smiles sleepily and kisses my nose. "Morning!"

I look around and find what I need to get myself under control: the familiar.

The walls, the dresser, even the quilt twisted around us. I know this place.

The alarm sounds again, shattering the silence. Automatically I try to place what it means. Lights out? Yard time is over? Next group for the showers? I know the sound but I can't put my finger on it.

The phone! Buffy gets it.

"It's your parole officer." Buffy hands me the phone and I force my brain to deal with reality. Meeting my parole officer. Getting a job. Starting a life. If I could even manage to walk out of the house, that is.

First thing's solved. My parole officer's going to come to the house this time. I thank her and hang up. Buffy has left. I hear the shower running.

My breath catches in my throat as I step out of the bed, wrapping Buffy's quilt around myself. Everything is weird. The floor is so.... soft. But I know this place. I've lived here for months, in photos and in dreams. And for two days in real life. I know my way around.

I wonder what is going to happen today. What do normal people do? I guess I used to watch TV a lot. I don't even remember. The future is a blank. I stand frozen, alone, growing afraid all over again. What do I do right now? At this moment? What is the next thing in my life? I don't fit into the world! My heart races. Desperate to find something right now that makes any sense at all. I pull the quilt tighter around myself, looking wildly around Buffy's room.

My room.

My quilt!

"You OK, sweetie?"

My Buffy! I run to her, wet towel or not, and cling gratefully to something that makes all the sense in the world.

 

---

 

"Who was that?" asks Tara, closing the front door, sitting down on the couch and spreading her legs for Willow to sit in between.

Emerging from the kitchen, I sit on the floor in front of the witches. "That was Dorothy. My parole officer. If she hadn't agreed to meet me here, I'd already be violating my parole!"

Tara clasps her arms around Willow's middle and nuzzles her fiery hair. "What's up with the job thing?" asks Red.

I shake my head. "I have to start getting interviews pretty quick here or they'll pack me off to jail again. Nothing my parole officer can do about that. She says I'm not the first person to have these kinds of problems. Only it's usually people who have been away for decades."

"How do they help them?"

"They don't, I guess. Maybe they get therapy, which I can't afford much of even if a shrink would come to the house. And besides, I want that money to go for Dawn's college. But mostly they just go back to prison. I guess that's what they want, some of them. But not me. She gave me some numbers to call about jobs. But... I can't even go to the interviews so why bother? And who's going to hire an ex-con anyway? I had one thought... I was thinking I could run like a day care thing here. But it turns out that's not legal. And she said working out of my home is not likely to fly with the parole board. They want to see me employed someplace."

Willow smiles. "I can just see you with a roomful of children!"

"Hey! Buffy and me are gonna adopt some day! I can handle it!"

Willow leans her head to the side to let Tara kiss her neck.

"Is it just me or are you guys like extra snuggly lately?"

"Willow's always extra snuggly!"

"How's Buffy doing?" asks Willow, changing the subject.

"Also very snuggly. She's gone for groceries." Actually it was a very nice night. She's not trying to have sex anymore, just lots of cuddling and a little kissing.

"Faith, we have to go meet Oz soon," says Tara, "but we want you to know we'll do anything we can to help you. Just ask."

"Anything," agrees Willow. "Any time."

When they get up to leave, I back into the kitchen instinctively. Away from the door.

Dawn wanders in sleepily, dressed in PJs. "Morning." Hug.

"Morning, Creature. You slept in late!"

"That's what Sundays are for." She reaches to open the kitchen curtains, but stops herself in time. "Was that Willow and Tara? What are they up to?"

"They're just going to see Oz again before he has to leave town."

"No, they're up to something. I know it. For over a week now." I wouldn't know, I haven't been here. I guess something seemed a little different about them.

It occurs to me that this is my kitchen. I could, in theory, make Dawnie some breakfast. "Want me to make you some eggs?" I think I can handle that. And I can surprise Buffy with a Sunday breakfast when she gets home!

Dawn seems a little surprised. "Sure!"

But despite my best intentions all I manage to do is burn myself and make a nasty mess. Dawn takes over and makes breakfast. Buffy's not back yet so we eat together. It's nice, just me and my new little sister. She seems like she's dying to say something, maybe ask me about my new phobias... but Buffy must have given her a little talk. She doesn't bring it up.

At least I manage OK doing the dishes.

Dawn can't hold it in forever. "Hey, Faith," she blurts as we leave the kitchen, "I had an idea to help you out! Let's try something. You stand there way at the other end of the hall, and I'll open the back door just a tiny crack, just for a second! See if you can get used to that."

No! The very thought makes me start to panic. "Dawn, don't." I back around the corner, out of sight of the back door.

"OK, just listen to it then, we'll start with that."

I have to get away! "It's not going to help."

"There, you heard it open, right? Now just peek around the corner and look at the door in the hall mirror."

"It's not going to help, so just stop it, Dawn! I'm going upstairs."

I hide in Buffy's room–my room–feeling bad for snapping at Dawn. I want her to follow me but she doesn't. I hear the door open downstairs as she leaves.

A short while later, though, she returns and comes upstairs. She knocks. "Come in."

"Picked you some flowers. Since you can't see our garden. One of each."

I've never seen flowers fresh from the garden I helped to plan. They smell great. She sits beside me.

"Thanks, Dawn. And what are those?" She's holding some polaroids.

"I took some pictures of the door open, and going outside. In case they would help. You don't have to look at them, though!"

I take them and leaf through them. I'm surprised to find that even pictures bother me. Just a little. And they don't help. But it was sweet of her to try.

"I'm sorry about before, Faith. I didn't mean to..."

I turn to hug her. "It's OK. I'm sorry I jumped on ya. Just... no more of that, OK?"

"OK. Buffy told me it was a bad idea. I should have known it's not that easy. But I want to help you! I made a promise to myself, that I would help you! Help you and Buffy stay together. I'm so afraid..." she starts crying softly on my shoulder. "I'm so afraid I'll lose you. Like I lost mom... and Buffy... and Tara when she left Willow."

I rub her back. "You won't ever lose me. Even if I go back to prison, you'll always be my Creature. And I'll always be Big Sister."

But that only makes her cry more.

I hold her a while, thinking how there won't be any more hugs if I go back to prison.

But whatever happens, we have today. Tomorrow I have to start looking for a job, and it's simply not possible. But this is Sunday. We have today.

"Hey, Dawn, I'd like to see what you've done with my web site."

She brightens up. "You gotta see it! It's all ready for you to take over again."

She takes me to her room, gets out her iBook, and dials up HowToKillVampires.com. Right away I can see she's expanded it a lot since I built it in prison.

"I added some more slaying tips from Buffy... and some hiding tips from Xander... and some boring history stuff from Giles."

"You didn't..."

"No, don't worry. No mention of Slayers. You guys still have your secret. 'Cause you know, I think there's a guy over on Weaver Street that still doesn't know Buffy's the Slayer." Fair enough–Buffy doesn't keep a very low profile, and neither did I in my Slayer days. So much for the Council's secrecy rule. But still, a little secrecy is handy.

I look at the new buttons she's added. "'Buy Stuff', what's that?"

"Anya made that. She set you up to take credit cards and everything. Maybe that could be your job from home!"

"But I'm not selling anything."

"Talk to Anya. She's full of ideas. You could make and sell official vampire stakes!"

Nobody who knew how long it takes to balance and sharpen a good stake would think there's any money it, but that's Anya for you.

"And what's this one? 'I Am a Vampire'?"

"That's Spike's contribution. Not a grand success." She clicks to that page. Twenty ways to get blood without killing people. No, I bet that doesn't appeal to your average vampire.

"Looks great, Dawn! Can you tell if people are using the site?"

"Yep, the counter says you've had sixty-seven thousand visits so far. Plus there's all the email you've gotten."

"Email?"

She opens up another window. "I've divided your email into four categories for you. The first set I've named 'Get a Life, You Crazy Bitch.' The second set is 'I'm a Vampire and I'll Feast On You In Your Sleep." But the third set is my favorite: 'Thank You For Saving My Life.'"

"Really? People wrote that I helped them?" Wow!

She nods. "Dozens of people helped, dozens of vamps dusted. All over the world! See, you're still a Slayer! A Cyberslayer!"

"That's pretty cool. I can't wait to read them all. What's the fourth category?"

"The fourth set you can probably delete. 'Get a Bigger Penis In Just 3 Weeks.'" She shrugs. "You got on some list."

I think my site is in good hands, even if I'm not around to take it over again myself.

I start to get up, but Dawn puts her hand on my arm. "Wait, I've got something else to show you on here. You remember my friend Cassie Newton?"

"The one who died, right? The one who predicted her own death, and you and Buffy saved her from some boys with a demon, and then she had a heart attack anyway?"

"Yeah. She's lucky the paramedics got to her before her brain was damaged.When she comes over she always talks with Buffy about the white light you see when you die. I'm never sure if they might be pulling my leg." She takes a photo out of her diary. A cute blonde girl with soulful eyes. "Isn't she pretty?"

"She's one of your good friends?"

Dawn gets very shy. "Maybe more."

"More?"

Something loads on the screen. "Look at her web site: www.cassienewton.com. I help her with it sometimes. Isn't it cool?"

"Is it all poetry and paintings?" Looks like pretty dark and gloomy stuff to me! Death, loneliness, hopelessness... I can relate.

"Mostly. The one on the home page makes me so sad! She wrote it about how it felt being dead. And there's a story she wrote, too." A story with over twenty pages! Who's gonna waste their time on the Internet reading stories by some stranger? "And scroll to the bottom. EqualityNow: it's against female circumcision. We're gonna add a link to your site down there, too."

Interesting site... but I'm not letting Dawn change the subject. "So what's this about being more than good friends, Creature?"

"Read this one. I think it night be a love poem to me." Whoa. Whoa! Dawn never said anything about this before! I bet Buffy has no idea either. She would have said!

I read the short poem. I think it's probably about love... sort of... in general. Or wanting love. Hard to say. I don't get poetry really. It actually seems pretty good to me... but it's not to anybody. I think Dawn's kidding herself. In fact, it seems like it might be about boys. "Creature, you know you don't have to be gay just because you don't know any straight women!"

"What about Anya?"

"Am I the only one who thinks Anya has a thing for Willow?"

"Willow? Anya??"

Shrug. "I call it like I see it. Buffy doesn't believe me either."

"Well don't tell Xander that! You'll make him paranoid. And anyway, it's not like I decided to be gay! Why are you gay?"

"Um, have you seen your sister naked?"

"OK, first of all, ewwww! And second of all, you know what I mean. I've been dying to tell you guys.... I thought you'd be happy for me!"

I put an arm around her shoulders. "I'm happy for you. I just don't want you to get hurt."

"Well Cassie says I'm the only one she can be herself around. 'Cause with other people, she's always picking up things from the future, and she can't control what she predicts, and she can't even tell what the predictions really mean. Usually it's little stuff, but sometimes it's not. Sometimes it's scary. It freaks her out, she's always worried that she's gonna get some new premonition, and then should she tell the person or not? But... you know what she sees about my future?"

"What?" My pulse races. Buffy's mentioned Cassie before, and her predictions are mostly pretty vague. But it's still really creepy. She knew the date of her own death, and it happened! I'm afraid to ask what she saw about Dawn.

"Nothing."

"Nothing?"

"Nothing. Not ever. She never knows anything about my future. I think it's 'cause I'm the Key. Whatever gift she has, it doesn't apply to me."

"Does she know what kind of Creature you are?"

"She knows I'm the Key. I trust her. I'm the one friend she can be with and not have to worry about her little talent. Or curse... I think it's why she's sad and lonely so much."

"Wow, I can see that would make you pretty important. But... Dawnie... that doesn't mean she likes you... that way. Have either of you said anything about it? Has she said she feels that way?"

She looks hurt. That would be a 'no.' This Cassie better not break my Dawnie's heart! "Tell you what... if she doesn't treat you nice, I'll kick her ass!"

Dawn gives me a skeptical look out of the corner of her eye. Like she thinks maybe Cassie might kick my ass, the way I've been acting lately. Then her face falls just a little further. "Well I think she likes me that way."

My poor Creature. I've suddenly realized something about her. Dawn has been such a big fan of Willow and Tara, and me and Buffy. Xander and Anya, too. In fact, she's the only one who gives Spike and Dru a chance in hell! All this love that she supports and encourages, and seems to get so much out of... But she's on the outside, looking in. I never saw the obvious: how lonely our love makes her feel. How much it makes her want what we have.

I give her a squeeze. "I hope she does. She sounds very lonely. But if not, at least you've got a friend, right?"

Dawn doesn't say anything for a while, but there's a twinkle in her eye. "She kisses pretty good."

"What? What business does she have kissing you?!" This girl has Dawnie set up for a major let down! That little bitch!

"We were just practicing... that's what we said. But I've been wanting to kiss her for a long time. I was kissing for real. I think maybe she was too... And anyway... you're supposed to be my sister, not my mom!"

OK, calm down, Faith. It's not that big a deal. I wound up in a lot of backseats in high school, and got dumped plenty. But that doesn't mean somebody kissing Dawn has to be the same kind of shit. It's not like I ever woke up in a girl's backseat, anyway. Unfortunately.

"You're right, Little Sis. My bad. Buffy's the mom. So... tell me all about it!"

 

~ Continued with "CV-18" ~

 

Note: I've linked to Cassie Newton's site as seen on the TV series. Pretty cool, huh? No, I didn't make that site. You see, like everyone else in Sunnydale, Cassandra Agatha Newton is real. (But Cassie, you do creep me out just a little.)

If you're enjoying this story, try I Have Never Been to Boston. Dawn sets out to say goodbye to someone she loves–but who she knows never even existed!

I always appreciate feedback in my Guestbook, or by email. 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.)

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