Getting Out

Faith ran, she couldn’t deal. No way in hell she could. She was going to get away; she had to get out. <No biggy, Buffy’s dead, another slayer is probably being called right now. To take the place Buffy’s been shadowing me for. > She burst through the door, she never locked it, all the things she didn’t want in there couldn’t get in, she actually wondered if the door could be locked. She fell down onto the sheets and started to sob. <Stop, you pussy. It isn’t worth it. > She told herself. She knew this pain; it was second skin, something to curl up with at night. All her failures, all the guys, Angel was just another one of them, no more. He wasn’t worth cracking down for.

That’s when she decided, not worth it, never was, knew it was, right from the start. Another relationship, another guy, another hot seat. She pulled out the suitcase that carried each memory of a lost love, lost place. Just gonna have to leave again. She always brought it, it was hers, like a baby blanket a mother would have if her baby died right on it. Dismal memories, perhaps, but hers. She pulled out the drawers in an almost sad way, not sad, no, she never was. Just dull pain at the pit of her stomach, not sadness. Slowly pulling out the clothes from the drawers, she came across a picture. The picture from homecoming, the group picture that Angel posed for but his image was completely erased. A camera, like a mirror. The person is there, but casts no reflection upon it. <That’s how I should think of it, completely erased. > She crumpled the picture and threw it to the floor; she didn’t need another reminder.

Just then she heard a slam and someone grabbed her and pushed her up against the wall. Angel had followed her; he wasn’t going to let her leave. And quick frankly, he was pissed.

"Faith," He growled, "You’re going to talk to me if I have to be here until the sun comes through those windows and dusts me." He pulled his hands away and let her fall back against the wall.

"Nice intro Angel," She whispered, "Tell a girl you’ll always love her, then you push her against the wall and threaten her. Yeah, feeling the love in this room." She rubbed her shoulder and pushed him aside. "I don’t care if you burn, in fact, why don’t you just stand there and do that. In fact, let me watch, I need closure."

"You don’t mean that Faith," Angel turned to face her.

"Oh, don’t I," Faith glared at him, "Well, tell me then, what do I mean, because I really want to hear this from the expert on me." She scoffed and started to throw clothes into the suitcase again.

He slammed it shut and snarled, "Faith, this isn’t you. It’s been like talking to a brick wall for the past few days and I’m sick of it. Does it bother you that I still think about Buffy or are you just afraid of losing me?"

"Get out," Faith’s voice turned to an almost inaudible sound, "I don’t need you making theories about what you don’t understand."

"Faith, I’m not leaving until I know exactly what’s going on." He said.

"Then don’t go," She said and pulled her suitcase off the bed, "I will."

"Tell me," He stopped her.

"Did I not make it clear enough to you," She asked, "I’ve explained it a hundred times. You still think about Buffy, it’s like a dark cloud hovering over my head, I know you’ll always love her, I know everyone here will. Did you know that when Giles talks to me, he still sometimes slips and starts to call me Buffy? Well, you know what, I’m not gonna stand here, all nice and pretty, and wait for you guys to get over her and accept the fact I’m the slayer and Buffy’s dead."

Angel turned somber, "You know what, if you don’t care about me and Willow and Giles enough to stay and learn to deal with the fact we’ll always think about her, then maybe you should leave."

"My thoughts exactly." She picked up her suitcase and slammed the door behind her.

"Come in," Mayor Wilkins replied to the knock.

He looked clearly surprised to see Faith step into his office and find a comfortable seat on a chair. She knew about him, he was a black hat. Evil, the mayor of Sunnydale, oh, you think. Wilkins knew about her, the slayer, spoiling his plans at every turn. Trick had attacked her a week before. In short he was dust.

"I made your boy vacuum prey." She said kicking her feet up onto his desk.

"I’ve known about that for a little while now." The mayor replied.

"So I guess that means you’ve got a job opening."

THE END