And So It Goes

You know, I always used to wonder what it would be like to live in a world with no rules. A world where I didn't have some whiny, rabbity little Watcher following my every move, writing down his approval--hah, more like, disapproval of my every action. A world where anything could go and the one rule was that you come out of it alive. Well, I got my wish and you know what?

I found I didn't like it very much. Angel was right, there are rules for a reason.

I rolled to the side, half-lifting myself up off the mat to glare at my opponent. "Shit, Yuy, you didn't have to throw me so hard."

Heero Yuy, former Gundam pilot and now part of my posse of vampire hunters, shrugged. As usual, that handsome face of his was about as expressive as a statue. Check that, you'd get more from the statue with a whole hell of a lot less trouble. Okay, that's harsh, I know it, but Heero just gets to me sometimes. I'm used to being able to work guys around my little finger, but with Heero, it's the other way around.

"Angel said to simulate a combat situation," Heero replied. "For optimal results that means removing all restraints and checks on one's actions."

"Yeah, but that doesn't mean break my damn spine," I growled. "I'm not going to be much good as a Slayer if I'm laid up with a broken back. Don't be so literal."

"Faith, Heero." Angel's voice was nearly hoarse with warning. I darted a glance at the former vampire, now human. Angel was the closest thing I had to a Watcher these days and my only link to my former life. My only *tenuous* link. 'God, he looked so fragile these days,' I thought critically while keeping one eye on Heero just in case the Perfect Soldier decided to try some funny business.

Angel had been human for close to one hundred and fifty years now and while he was pretty spry for an old guy, there was no denying that was what he was. Old. That once flawless complexion had wrinkled and withered like old paper. He still had his hair which was more than I can say for some men his age--or near his age. It was thin and nearly colorless but it was there. His eyes were the same but at the same time they weren't. The Angel I had known had been haunted and you'd seen it in those smoky dark eyes of his. Somewhere along the way to becoming human, Angel had come to terms with himself. He had served his time, atoned for his crimes, and he had found peace. I was happy for him, but truth be told, I was scared, too. Angel's journey was over and he was coasting along now. The last thing I needed was to lose my one rock in this otherwise Alice in Wonderland type world I now found myself in. Of late, I'd spent more nights than I care to think of staring at the ceiling and wondering what I was going to do if I lost him.

More pressure I so did not need at the moment. As if being the universe's only Slayer wasn't enough to handle.

"He started it, Teach," I mock-whined, sticking my tongue out at Heero who glowered in return.

"You know, the vamps aren't gonna have much to worry about at this rate," Duo Maxwell snickered from the sidelines. "I'm just wondering who I should put my money down on."

"Shut up," Heero and I said at the same time.

"Duo, don't help," Angel sighed. "Listen, you two, training is supposed to help you fight vampires, not each other. So why not lay off trying to kill each other and try to make this a worthwhile exercise. Please?"

Heero nodded while I snapped off a mock salute. We turned back to each other and I took a second to really look at Heero. He's pretty damn cute when you get down to it. Duo is probably better looking, but there's something about Heero. Maybe it's just because he seems to go out of his way to ignore me and my flirting or maybe it's just because I love those rare moments when I get a rise out of him. Whatever it is, I've got it bad. Half the time I want to kill him for being such a cold S.O.B. and the other half... Well, the other half wants to show him that the real fun comes after dusting the vamps when you've got all that adreneline to burn off.

Heh, I could show him fun all right.

Ohhhh-kay, time to get my mind out of the gutter and back to business before I land on my ass again. Heero won't hesitate to take advantage of my distraction and I've already got enough bruises thank you very much. So we spar for a while, every now and then pausing to catch our breaths. Heero and I are pretty evenly matched. I've got my Slayer strength and he's got his own enhancements. If he'd been a girl, he'd have made a damn good Slayer.

Then again, if he'd been a girl, it wouldn't be near as much fun to ogle him.

***

As much as I complain, I really don't hate all the training Angel puts me and the guys through. It gives me time where I don't have to think or get lost in memories of people and things that are now about as dusted as a dead vamp.

Sometimes, I think about B and wonder how her life went. Angel's been reticent on the subject. I think because it hurts him to think about her and about what they were. Nothing like finding the great love of your life and then losing her over and over again. Still, I wonder about her. If she married Riley, if they had kids... How she died. That sounds morbid, I know but I can't help it. B was little Miss Perfect, she was the Slayer with the most game points when I knew her and just 'cause I wasn't around to play reluctant back-up doesn't mean she just died. B wasn't like that. She probably went down fighting. At least I hope she did. I guess I could look at the records but something in me resists that. 'Cause that would make it real, you know? Seeing Buffy's name and a date of death would mean that this Neverneverland is really all I have left. And I don't think I can deal with that yet. It's all I can handle dealing with Angel, watching him nod off at odd times or those once strong hands shake as they reach for something.

I sound bitter. I am bitter. I didn't want this. I didn't want to be the Slayer but unlike B, I never saw any point to sitting back and crying about it. I mean, what else did I have except a future as a Denny's waitress or in a correctional institution? Of course, I managed to land in one of those positions without even really trying. I'm still atoning for that sin. Maybe Angel's Powers decided that sticking me behind bars wasn't punishment enough and that's why I'm here. I don't know. Neither does he. I think we both know I'm serving out a sentence of some sort; a life sentence as it were because the expiration date on Slayers only runs out when bite the big one.

I still haven't figured out how Heero, Duo, and the others managed to land this gig. From what I've heard, they're heroes, saviors of the universe and all the jazz. Everything should be five by five, squared away for them. Only it isn't. It couldn't be if they're doing this. And part of me is glad of that because it means I'm not alone. I think that may be my worst fear, dying alone without anyone giving a damn. It took leaving Sunnydale and three hundred years for me to figure that out.

Oh and to top that all I've somehow managed to develop a moony, maudlin streak. Yay me.

There was a gentle knock at the door. That ruled out Duo who had a tendency to just burst on people. I'm much the same way. Angel says I'm just too blunt to play around, but I think he's being polite.

"Come in." Ever noticed when you really don't want company, that's exactly what you get?

A blond head poked through the slit in the door. "Miss Faith? Are you all right?"

I smiled, a genuine smile this time. Quatre was so sweet and old-fashioned he was going to give me cavities one day. Of course what was an act for most people, was real for him. Quatre really was *that* sweet and old-fashioned. "Yeah, I'm five by five, Quatre. Just doing a little thinkin', ya know?"

He nodded, sliding inside the room. "How are the bruises?"

"I'll live," I shrugged. "I should have been paying more attention."

"Heero could have pulled his punches some," Quatre countered.

We stared at each other then started laughing.

"Spandex boy pulling his punches?" My laugh turned into a wheeze as my ribs started aching. "I don't think restraint has every crossed that literal, precise mind of his."

Quatre caught my arm, steadying me as I winced. Right now, I've got bruises on top of my bruises and they weren't all from sparring with Heero. Earlier in the week, I'd stumbled onto a nest of vamps out patrolling on my own. I probably should have waited, returned with the guys for back up. I mean, there had been about thirty of them and I could have gotten killed as both Angel and Duo railed at me when I limped back to the safehouse. Still, the problem was solved--vamps dead, nest torched.

"You're pushing yourself too hard," Quatre's voice was soft, his blue eyes shining with concern. "You need rest."

"No rest for the wicked, ya know? There's a lot of vamps out there and only one little old me. Gotta take out as many of them as I can before I retire to the Slayer pasture in the sky."

"But you don't have to do it alone," He argued.

Hmm. Maybe that was the problem. For all I liked their company, I was loathed to take the boys with me on patrol. I think because of the whole trust issue. Namely I don't trust anyone or anything. Except for maybe Angel. Angel had tried to help me once and had continued to try in spite of efforts to the contrary made by one B Summers. He'd believed in me when I hadn't believed in myself. I appreciated that, but it was a lot to live up to. It always had been.

Sometimes it seems like I've been living in shadows my whole life. Hell, sometimes I feel like I've become those shadows, always on the periphery of life, always having to shy away when some one turned on the light because if I couldn't stand my own ugliness, who else could? An ugliness I saw reflected in every vamp I've ever killed, every demon I've ever faced. I'm just as tainted as they are, only I still have my soul. That just makes everything ten times worse. At least the vampires have the excuse of being soulless, blood-sucking demons. I'm a human monster, a thinking, feeling monster with a soul that does know right from wrong and chose wrong anyway. What's more, I had revelled in the chaos and destruction I'd caused. I had enjoyed hurting Buffy and the others, in visiting on them the same pain life had dealt me.

I'm not proud of that fact, but it's part of me. That darkness is always going to be part of me. I can't erase the stain on my soul, on my humanity just by saying I'm sorry. Guess that's the point of my being here. I have to atone for what I did. I have to try to make things better for other people even if I can't make my own life follow suit.

That's all well and good, but what right do I have to drag other people into this? The guys... They deserve better than this. Better than having to follow my sorry ass into battle trying to save the world from legions of the undead. They've spilled so much of their blood to help people already. Don't they deserve a break?

"Don't you get tired of it, Quatre?" I asked him, "Tired of all the killing and the fighting and the fear? Don't you ever just wish you could close your eyes and ... rest?"

Those blue-green eyes darkened to a haunted shade, staring beyond the wall where his gaze rested. "More than you'll know," he replied, his voice quiet. Then his face creased with some sort of knowing sadness. "I thought when the war ended, I'd be free. Only it wasn't like that. We were free, but we didn't have a purpose."

He turned towards me, taking my hand. "We were brought up to be soldiers, Faith. For some of us, like Heero, that's all we ever had. And when that purpose was taken away, I think we all felt lost. And then you came and you had a purpose. *You* gave us a purpose. You were like us, chosen to bear everyone else's sins because no one else could or would. And you were like us because you didn't have a choice. You were what you had been made."

I felt a chill ripple up my skin at his words, at how close to home they hit. Maybe that was why I couldn't send the guys away. They understood me as no one else except Angel ever had. Because they were like me; because we had been broken and shaped into something beyond our control. We had bled and we were still bleeding but we couldn't ignore the suffering we saw around us. Peace was for other people, bought by our tears, our torn bodies. We could never enjoy those fruits because it wasn't in our nature to be that way.

My throat was hurting as I sat there staring at him, his kind eyes so warm and understanding in spite of everything that had been done to him. If I'd had Quatre's strength of spirit, I would never have tried to hurt Buffy or Angel. I would never have tried to destroy a town just for the sake of my ego. If, if, if... That was all my life was, one long series of roads not taken, exits missed.

Quatre shook his head as if he knew what I was thinking, reaching over and drawing me into a hug. Now, normally, I'm not the hugger-type, but feeling like this and this being Quatre... Well, pulling away would have been like pulling away from a teddy bear. I gripped him tightly, feeling silent tears leak out of the corners of my eyes and for once, I let them fall. Let the bodies, let the past fall where it would. They were demons I would fight again and again, but tonight, for now, all I wanted was an absolution. A respite from the pain and the fear...from being a Slayer. All I wanted was to be a girl, having a good cry on a friend's shoulder. I wanted something small, something normal.

And for once, just once, that was exactly what I got.

***End.