want_take_have | 001 - Every time that I wake it's like I only wake into a dream

[she dreamt of a picnic.

Mayor Wilkins was there. Happy. Whole. Cracking his stupid, corny jokes that should have made her roll her eyes...except they didn't. There was a nagging sense of deja vu, like she'd seen this before and it hadn't ended well, but they finished their meal and he talked with her and...nothing happened. It was perfect.

She was content enough that she laid back on the grass and closed her eyes, just enjoying the breeze against her face and the fact that, for once, she didn't have to be on edge.

When she woke, she could still feel the hint of that breeze. An illusion, of course. Something left over from her imagination, because you didn't get wind in prison cells. She kept her eyes closed though, trying to pretend, because she wasn't quite ready to let it go...except there was a dull ache between her shoulder blades that wouldn't let her fully relax. Finally, she swore, grit her teeth, and opened her eyes-

...And stared.

It takes a few minutes of quietly freaking out before she finds the journal, and a few more before she gets ahold of herself enough to attempt to use it. She was from Sunnydale...She could handle screwed up. She'd figure it out as she went. Right?

When she actually speaks, she sounds pretty chill, especially to anyone who doesn't know what she sounds like when she's wigged.]

So...not saying I totally buy the whole "this is real" thing, 'cause this is all kinds of messed up...but pretending I did...where's a girl gotta go to get a hard drink around here?

[because she really, really needed one]

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[she'd already been in prison with a much longer sentence attached...but the idea of being stuck in a prison with Buffy for even four years made her throat tighten]

...Guess you must be just dyin' to get out.

[ not...exactly. ]

I've got a livelihood to get back to, yeah. [ a beat. ] What's the last thing you remember? From home?

Always were the responsible one.

[a beat]

Lots of bars and crappy jumpsuits. And some really funky meatloaf from the cafeteria. ...Maybe I should be hopin' this is food poisoning.

[there's a slight edge of babble to her words. She took a few steps towards the journal, ready to pick it up, and then backed off again. Pacing. She'd get there. She just...needed a few more minutes]

[ jail. that's...actually not very helpful. could be anywhere from the few years she was locked up. ]

Got a year to go with that?

...2000.

[it was a strange question, and it added to the disorientation that was already freaking her out]

Why? When else would it be?

[She hadn't gone into another coma. Please tell her she hadn't lost more time]

...Nearly 2005, for me.

[ but, 2000. that means... ] You just went in.

[there's a stab of panic at that. Five years? She'd lost five years? How?]

Four months.

[it's a distracted correction, but important. Four months wasn't exactly a short time]

I've been there four months.

Time...freaks out a bit, here. We get pulled from all different points.

It's not the only thing freaking out.

[deep breaths] you tellin' me you're really from 2005?

...'Fraid so. Plus the three years living here. Might as well just call me Grandma Buffy.

[ she jokes, sure. but she is still terribly tense. this situation needs to be handled and it needs to be handled soon.

still: ] Except don't really call me that. Ever.

Damn.

...Couldn't have said it better myself, actually.

So.

[this is uncomfortable] Guess I've really been coolin' my heels awhile, when you're from.

...Your heels did cool. A bit. For awhile.

Yeah, well. They ain't exactly keen on putting 25 to lifers on parole.

...You broke out. [ ... ] And I'm guessing you probably could have at any time, if you wanted to.

[ which might got a very long way to explain why buffy's OKAY with you, faith. at least professionally. ]

[if she expected some kind of understanding, she doesn't get it. Instead, the expression that flashes across Faith's features is almost panicked]

Broke out? Why?

[she'd thought about it a million times, of course. It would have been easy. Too easy. And, God, some days it was all she wanted. But she'd made a promise.

What the hell had made her break it?]

Trouble in paradise. A big bad looking to not only off you and me but any girl with the potential to ever be a Slayer. As far as I heard? One of them came after you, behind bars.

I take it that didn't really go the way they planned.

[hearing that it was for a good cause helps, but she still sounds uneasy]

A lot of girls died. Then again? A lot more survived. We won. [ and here came the truth in a terrible rush: ] Thanks -- in no small part -- to you.

[there's a long pause, followed by a question that's...probably not all that reassuring]

..So I'm one of the good guys?

So much so that I don't think you'd believe me if I told you about the good you've done...

Well, damn.

[it's soft...disbelieving...and grateful. She's not sure she buys it...but she really, really wants to]

[ there's more -- the fact that giles is travelling the world as faith's watcher and not her own -- but she doesn't want to share that. ]

'Damn' is pretty accurate. I guess that desperate times call for desperate allies.

[Right. Of course.]

Guess you woulda had to be desperate, to call on me.

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