Faith cut the first lawyer's long-winded explanation off short. “Who am I supposed to kill?”
“Please understand that we would never advocate the killing of another human being,” Lindsey McDonald told her sanctimoniously, then dropped the façade. “Two targets. One is called Harmony Kendall, although she's not particularly important and we wouldn't be all that bothered if you didn't get her. The primary target is known as Angel. He's something of a Private -”
“No problem,” Faith interrupted. ‘Harmony's a vampire?' she thought, reading between the lines and making the correct deduction. ‘Sure was a lot of stuff happen while I was out of it.'
“Don't you want to know anything more?” the other male lawyer, Lee Mercer, asked.
“Two things, is all. First, besides getting me off, how much are you going to pay, and second, Harmony is a vampire, right?”
“Ah, I see you know something about them already. That will make things simpler. However, before we discuss remuneration ...”
“Huh?” Faith interrupted.
“Payment,” he clarified, and then picked up where he had left off. “I want to make sure you understand that this firm is in no way connected to anything you do. It's my ass on the line here. I don't want you to make me look bad.”
Lilah Morgan, the only woman among the three Wolfram & Hart lawyers present, smirked silently. She could guess what was coming next. How could anyone pass up a line like that? She watched with some satisfaction as Faith smashed Lee's face into a desk over and over again. In Wolfram & Hart office politics backstabbing was not always metaphorical, and there were many ways of stepping into dead men's shoes.
“How do you look now, huh?” Faith demanded. Lee could answer only with a groan, and Faith smashed his face into the desk once more.
Lilah turned to Lindsey. “She shows initiative,” she remarked with satisfaction, and spoke into the intercom. “Jesse, I think you'd better make it three for dinner instead of four.”
“C'mon, Boss, we can do a divorce case once in a while, just to pay the bills,” Harmony pleaded as the four members of the Angel Investigations team walked towards their lunch appointment. “We're going to get paid for this one, and for once I won't get demon gunk in my hair. Listen to Cordy.” In truth Harmony was inclined towards Angel's position on this issue, and was backing Cordelia only out of loyalty. The tension between the two girls had eased now that the decision had been made that Harmony would be returning to Sunnydale before long, but the vampire still didn't want to risk upsetting her friend any further. “And the business loan thing -”
She broke off as Angel suddenly spun and shot his hand out past her. She turned quickly and froze with horror as she saw a crossbow quarrel in his hand. He had snatched it out of the air only inches from her back. She looked further, and saw someone she recognised. A dark haired girl holding a crossbow. That crazy chick who hung out with Buffy for a while last year. The one who, Anya had told her, had returned last month, stolen Buffy's body, and had tried to trick Spike into killing all the Scooby Gang. Faith.
“It is so not fair,” Harmony protested, back at the office. “What does she want to kill me for? I hardly ever even spoke to her back in Sunnydale. It's not that I ignored her or anything, we just hardly ever met. There isn't any reason for her to want me dead.”
“Hello! Vampire! She's a Slayer,” Cordelia reminded her.
“Oh, yeah, there is that,” Harmony acknowledged. “Okay, but still not happy about it.”
“How would she even know you were a vampire? She knew, I could see it in the way she grinned at us, but it doesn't make sense.” Angel frowned, and shook his head slowly. “Somebody told her. She's after me, and she wants me to know she's coming. You were just her warning shot.”
“So she tried to kill me just to send a message? Hello, Faith, ever heard of the telephone? E-mail? Put a note through the door, even?” Harmony raised her eyes to the heavens.
“So why didn't she just shoot you with that crossbow?” Cordelia asked her boss.
“Her attack on Buffy was subtle,” Wesley reminded them. “She may intend to wage psychological warfare on Angel. And on me, probably. It's sad.”
“Damn right. Notice me not smiling,” Harmony agreed.
“Not that. I had hoped she might have got over her hatreds,” Wesley explained. “Giles told me that she missed her chance to escape in Buffy's body because she returned to act as the Slayer and save some innocents. There is still some good in her. She's a sick girl, but there may be a chance to reason with her.”
“There was a chance once. Last year I had a shot at saving her.” Angel looked pointedly at Wesley. “I was pulling her back from the brink when some British guy kidnapped her and made damn sure she'd never again trust a living soul.”
“Angel, it's not Wesley's fault that some British guy ruined your ...” Cordelia began, and then remembered what had happened and stared equally pointedly at Wesley. “Oh. Wait. That was you.” She turned back to Angel. “Go on.”
“Not living, no soul. Maybe I could try to reason with her, Boss,” Harmony volunteered. “Although, she'd kill me. Better idea. Call Spike, ask him to do it.”
“I didn't mean it literally, Harmony,” Angel told her.
“I don't think that would be a good idea,” Wesley observed. “Giles mentioned that Faith tried to turn Spike against the others. I gather she upset him immensely, although Giles didn't give details. I doubt if Spike would be willing to assist in that way. We should only call him if we give up on her totally, in which case there could be no more useful ally than the Slayer of Slayers.”
“We don't know enough. What does she want? Why is she doing it? We have to know.” Angel came to a decision. “Okay, a plan. If we assume she came straight here from Sunnydale she must have been in LA nearly a month. She'll have left tracks. Cordy, Harmony, Wes, check police reports. Beatings, brawls, maybe killings, with a girl involved. See if you can get a line on her, maybe work out who pointed her at us, and then make yourselves scarce. I don't want to give her any free targets. Especially you, Harmony. She's human, so you can't defend yourself against her, and we've already seen that she wants you dead. Time for you to head back to Sunnydale.”
Harmony walked across the dance floor warily. Something wasn't right. The club wouldn't open for another three hours, so it being deserted was not necessarily a danger signal. There was nothing surprising in the door having been unlocked either; the owner knew she was coming, and had told her just to let herself in. But why was there no sign of him? “Mr. Costigan?” she called. “Anybody here?” There was no answer. “The Hell with this,” she muttered, and turned to leave, only to see Faith standing between her and the exit.
“He had to lie down for a while,” the Slayer told her with an enigmatic smile. “You want to know about the fight here the other night, you're gonna have to ask me. ‘Course, if I told you, I'd have to kill you. But, since I'm gonna do that anyway...”
“Why, Faith?” Harmony asked, her voice shaking. “I've never done anything to you.”
“Never done anything for me either, Harmony,” Faith replied. “But it's nothing personal. Just want to send a nice present to Angel.” She held up a polythene freezer bag. “You should fit in here nicely. Could do with something to prove it's you, I guess. Take off that charm from your neck and throw it over here, and I'll do you a favour. I'll make it quick.”
“Kill me and you're dead, Faith. Spike will kill you, or Riley will,” Harmony warned, hoping to gain time to think of something to give her a chance. The Slayer would be stronger than her, faster, more skilled, and she couldn't hit back without suffering incapacitating pain. There seemed to be no way to win. She thought of the ‘Modesty Blaise' books which had inspired her escape from the Initiative. Were there any ideas there she could draw on? Modesty's fight against the invincible Sexton came to mind, but was discarded; there was no pool of icy water here to level the playing field. What about Willie Garvin's fight against Simon Delicata? Yes. Willie hadn't attacked, he'd let Delicata destroy himself. Counters, boot against hand. She could try that, or something similar. A bit of Willie Garvin, a bit of Jackie Chan.
“Why would Spike care about you?” Faith asked. “And who the fuck is Riley?” She shook her head. “Don't bother answering, girlie. I don't care. And no point in running for the emergency doors. They open straight into the sunlight. Only way out is past me. C'mon, girlie, go for it. Take your best shot.”
“I'm not going to hit you, Faith,” Harmony replied, and walked away towards the edge of the dance floor.
“Too bad. It's no fun if they don't fight back.” Faith pouted, and then took off in a flying kick aimed at Harmony's head.
The blonde vampire seized a chair, spun, and tossed the chair up into the air. Faith collided with it and fell to the ground. Harmony tried to dodge past her, but Faith recovered too quickly and returned to the attack. Harmony dived back to the seating area, snatched up a drinks tray, and raised it like a shield as the Slayer came in with a punch. Faith's fist hit the tray, denting it. Her follow up elbow strike struck the metal too, knocking the tray from Harmony's hands, but the vampire snatched up another.
Harmony leaped onto a table, then onto another one, with Faith in pursuit. As Faith jumped towards one table Harmony knocked it over, and Faith crashed to the ground again, falling awkwardly onto the furniture. She rose clutching her side. “You've cracked my fucking rib, bitch!” she spat, and went for Harmony once more.
A series of punches and kicks blocked with the drinks tray. A table sent spinning, to knock Faith's legs from under her as she charged in. A deflection block, Aikido-style, so that Faith's own momentum sent her sprawling into the bar head first. Move by move Harmony worked her way round so that the Slayer was no longer between her and the exit. “I can do this!” Harmony thought triumphantly. And then her reflexes betrayed her.
Faith punched hard at the vampire girl and connected with the bar stool Harmony raised in defence. She recoiled in pain, clutching her bleeding knuckles, stumbled over a fallen ashtray, and fell to land heavily on her bottom. For a second she was sitting wide open and vulnerable. Harmony should have seized the opportunity to flee, but instead she swung the chair at Faith's head in an intended knockout blow. The chip activated.
Faith climbed to her feet, brought her fist to her mouth to lick at her split knuckles, and stared wide-eyed at the vampire who was lying on the floor writhing in agony. She pulled a stake from her jacket, stood astride Harmony, and then dropped down to sit on her stomach. She raised the stake. “What happened, girlie?” she asked, her voice surprisingly gentle. “I didn't hit you.”
Harmony looked up at Faith through eyes blurry with tears. “I can't hurt humans. There's a microchip in my brain. I get electric shocks if I try. Even if I'm just defending myself.” Her lip quivered. “But I gave it a good try, huh?”
Faith took hold of the unicorn pendant at Harmony's throat, and was reminded of Buffy's pearl. “Yeah, you did well. Spike been teaching you?” she asked, thinking of the way Buffy had defeated her with ease at Joyce's house.
Harmony nodded. “And Wesley, and Angel. And Modesty Blaise.”
“Who?” Faith asked, her brow furrowing in puzzlement. She released the pendant, and let it fall back onto the vampire's neck.
“Somebody in a book.” Harmony had remembered a passage in one of the books where Modesty remarks that Willie Garvin is dangerous because he never gives up, even with a gun at his head and the hammer falling he'd still be thinking of a way out, and she resolved not to give up either, even though it seemed hopeless. It would be no use trying to buck Faith off, it wouldn't stop the Slayer bringing down the stake. Her right hand was pinned by Faith's knee. But her left hand was free. She swallowed. “Please, make it quick,” she pleaded.
Faith aimed the stake. “I'll tell them you would have made them proud,” she promised, then struck for the heart.
Harmony lashed up, caught Faith's sleeve and pulled downwards and sideways, diverting the stake so that it missed the heart, gouged a bloody track across her chest, and slammed into the floor. Continuing the pull, Harmony threw Faith clear so that she rolled away across the dance floor, completely unhurt, and the chip didn't fire. The stake fell from the Slayer's hand and spun away. Harmony rolled in the other direction, leaped to her feet, and ran like the wind for the door. Faith scrambled for the stake, grabbed it, and pursued.
The door was locked. Harmony tugged at the handle with all her vampire strength, but the door didn't budge, although she could feel the handle cracking. She heard Faith behind her and turned, blood trickling down her side and dripping on the carpet, and stood at bay.
Faith came to a halt and lowered her stake. She pulled a key from her pocket and held it up. “Looking for this?” She tossed it to Harmony, who snatched it out of the air and stared at it in amazement. “Go on, get out. I think you've earned a draw.”
Harmony pulled the car over and drew to a halt beside Angel. “Learn anything, Boss?” she asked as he climbed in.
“Not a lot,” Angel admitted, settling into his seat as the car pulled away from the kerb. “No confirmation that they hired Faith. Plenty of confirmation that they want me dead, and that you're not exactly their favourite person either since you pulled that Vamp-hooker stunt to get the Augenthaler papers, but we knew that anyway. Still, I could tell from Lindsey's smirk that he knows something. Either they hired Faith themselves, or a client of theirs did and they did the arranging.” His infiltration of Wolfram & Hart had produced no concrete results, but he had annoyed them, rattled them even, and so he didn't regard it as having been a complete waste of time.
“Great. I leave Sunnydale to get away from a big evil organisation that wants to do nasty things to me, and where do I come? Here. Frying pan, fire. I shoulda gone to Paris. Back to the office, Boss?”
“Yeah. I want to change out of this suit. Not exactly the best outfit for fighting, and I have a feeling there's more fighting coming up pretty soon. How's your wound healing up?”
“Pretty much done. Just a scab, hurts a bit but only ‘cause my bra catches on it. How's yours?”
“The same, only without the bra bit,” Angel replied with a wry smile. Faith had paid him a visit immediately after her encounter with Harmony, and had shot him in the chest with a conventional bullet. Painful, but not unlife-threatening. He frowned. The same injury would have killed or critically injured Wesley or Cordelia. He had been assuming only he and Harmony were in immediate danger. What if he was wrong?
Angel dropped Harmony off at Cordelia's apartment, and began to manoeuvre the convertible through a three point turn. For a moment he stopped thinking about the danger Faith presented, and thought about Harmony. He'd miss her when she went back to Sunnydale; miss her infuriating yet endearing mixture of total incompetence in some areas and remarkable abilities in others. He'd come close to death once because she had gone shopping, lost track of time, and failed to pass on a vital message; but to balance that, her infiltration of Wolfram & Hart in the guise of a vamp hooker seeking legal representation had been far more productive than his own, and she had fought a Slayer to a draw despite the handicap of her chip. He chuckled as he remembered her come-on to him in her hooker outfit; “Hey, big boy, let me show you an okay-ish time.” The office would seem a lot emptier without her, and not just because it would contain fewer unicorns.
He completed the turn and began to drive off, but slammed on the brakes as he heard Harmony screaming his name. She shot from the apartment block at full vampire speed and ran after the car. He leaped out and ran to meet her. “What is it? Is it Faith?”
“Think so. Cordelia's unconscious. No sign of Wesley, but his glasses are there on the floor.” Harmony looked up at Angel worriedly. “I think she's got him.”
It was raining heavily when Angel and Harmony arrived at the apartment complex they believed to be Faith's current base. The owner of one apartment had been mugged recently by a girl fitting the Slayer's description. He was still in hospital, and his keys had been taken. It was a slender lead, but it was the only one they had. A visit to the hospital and some fast talking, backed up by Angel's Private Investigator's Licence, had gained them an invitation to the apartment.
“This is so going to ruin my hair,” Harmony whined, “and this top's Dry Clean Only. What'll the rain do to it?”
Angel wasn't annoyed by her insensitivity; it was just the way she was. She had fussed tenderly over Cordelia, displayed genuine concern for Wesley, and had volunteered for the rescue mission in full knowledge that she was putting herself in danger. Her job was to grab Wesley and run, if she got the chance, not to fight Faith, but she was still at risk. “If it gets ruined I'll buy you a new one. Come on, let's do this.”
Even from outside the room Angel could smell blood, and fire, and singed hair. He struck the door with all his might and burst it from its hinges, and then stepped over the wreckage into the room. Harmony followed behind him.
Wesley was tied to a chair, his face battered, his shirt bloodstained. Faith had lit the spray from an aerosol can and was standing behind him, waving the flame inches from his skin. When the door burst open she dropped the can, drew a knife, and held the blade to her former Watcher's throat. She sneered at the two vampires. “Wow, the dynamic duo. Soul boy and chip girl. Ready to play now? If I kill him, will that help or just be really funny?”
Angel moved into the room, angling to the right, and Harmony angled to the left. Faith turned to keep facing Angel, and ended up beside Wesley instead of behind the chair.
“Come on, Faith, you think I don't know what you're after? This is between you and me.” Angel tried to keep the Slayer's full attention, hoping Harmony would get a chance to pull Wesley away.
“No, baby, he's payback.” Faith flicked a glance at Harmony, and then returned her attention to Angel.
“Payback for what?” Angel asked. “I thought you were happy with the way you are. By the way, you never told me how much I'm worth dusted. Just out of curiosity ...?”
“Fifteen thousand plus expenses, bonus of three thousand if I do Blondie too. Getting paid for Slaying, beats Hell out of the Council deal. Maybe they should have tried it, things might have worked out. What d'ya think, Wesley?” She squeezed his shoulder hard, bringing a gasp of agony from his lips.
“Did you tell him?” Harmony asked suddenly.
“Tell him what?” Faith asked angrily, taking her eyes off Angel and staring at the vampire girl.
“That I would have made him proud.” Harmony looked straight into Faith's eyes. “I learned a lot from him. You know it. And I'm not clever. Some people say I'm an idiot. So maybe he didn't fail you. Maybe it was your fault.”
“Listen, girlie,” Faith snapped, taking the knife away from Wesley's throat and pointing it at Harmony, “you don't know a fucking - ”
Wesley threw himself sideways, toppling the chair over, and crashed to the floor. Simultaneously Angel kicked out, hitting Faith's arm, and sent the knife flying towards Harmony, who snatched it out of the air. Angel followed up with a punch, knocking the Slayer away from the fallen Watcher, and Harmony dived for Wesley, dragging the chair across the floor as Faith turned on Angel.
Faith exploded in berserk fury, driving the vampire back with sheer power and energy. She snatched up a glass topped coffee table and smashed it over his head, sending a hundred splinters flying across the room, kicked him, jumped up to wrap her legs about his waist, and brought him to the ground with her sitting on top. “Come on, Angel, I thought you were bad!” she goaded him, punching him in the face. He caught her wrist and threw her across the room.
Faith seized a floor lamp and lashed out with it, forcing Angel to retreat, and then turned to where Harmony was slicing through Wesley's bonds. She brought the lamp down viciously towards the helpless Watcher. Harmony shielded him with her body, taking the blow across her back, and Angel moved in and disarmed the Slayer before she could strike again.
“When did the fucking vampires start being the good guys?” Faith screamed, kicking Angel over a sofa and leaping to follow up. “Why am I the bad one?” Angel pulled a chair into her path, and she fell over it as she had done in her fight with Harmony. The Slayer was slow to regain her feet, but Angel didn't attack, instead waiting for her to come to him. She obliged, punching and kicking furiously, but Angel only blocked the blows. “Fight me!” Faith yelled. “Come on. You can't take me. No one can take me. I'm bad.” She threw herself bodily at the vampire, sending them both crashing towards the window. Angel went with the charge, letting both of them burst through the glass and fall two stories into the street.
“Can you walk?” Harmony asked Wesley, cutting the last of his bonds and helping him to his feet.
“Just about,” Wesley croaked. He took the knife from Harmony. “Got to help Angel.”
“No, we've got to get you out of here to somewhere safe. Make that to a hospital.” Harmony scooped Wesley up in her arms, ignoring his objections, and carried him out of the room. She miscalculated the width of the doorway and Wesley's head collided with the door frame. “Oops!”
Wesley walked the rest of the way out of the building, a contrite Harmony assisting him, his right arm over her shoulders. He kept hold of the knife in his left hand, still intending to help Angel against Faith if he got the chance. They peered cautiously out of the rear door. The car was in that direction; but it was also where the two combatants had landed after falling from the window, and Harmony didn't want them to blunder into the middle of the fight.
If it could be called a fight any more. Faith was hitting Angel, over and over again, but there was no skill in her blows. She was flailing at him awkwardly, screaming and sobbing as she did so, and he wasn't even bothering to block. “I'm evil!” she yelled. “I'm bad. I'm evil. D'ya hear me? I'm bad! Angel, I'm bad!” She grabbed hold of the vampire's shirt and shook him, and began beating his chest with the heels of her fists. “I'm bad. I'm bad, bad. Please, Angel, please, just do it.” Her blows were becoming weaker and weaker.
Wesley began to free himself from Harmony's arm, and to raise the knife, but then relaxed and lowered the blade. “I don't think you need to help, Wesley,” Harmony said softly.
“Angel, please, just do it,” Faith wept. “Do it. Kill me. Just kill me.”
Angel wrapped her in his arms and clutched her to his chest. “Shh, it's all right,” he soothed her. “It's okay. I'm here. I'm right here. Shh.”
Wesley let the knife fall to the ground. Harmony stared at the other two for a long moment, her brow furrowed, and then began to help the Watcher towards the car. “I think I'd better drive,” she said. “You go in the front with me. I think Angel will want to be in the back with Faith.”
Faith lay huddled on the bed, arms wrapped around herself, and stared silently at Angel. The elevator door opened and Harmony emerged, holding a carrier bag, and went over to the bed. She knelt down beside it and spoke softly.
“I brought you a robe. It's all warm and fleecy, and it's got unicorns on it.” She took out the garment and held it up to show the Slayer, who stared at it expressionlessly. “I embroidered them myself. And I've made you a flask of hot chocolate, ‘cause Spike says it's really good for when you're hurting inside.” She stood the flask on the bedside table, and then took out the last item from the bag and held it out to Faith. “And this is Mystic. Would you like to hold him while you sleep? He helps a lot. I couldn't sleep without him for a week after ...” her voice trembled “... after I was raped.”
Faith's eyes widened. She reached out slowly, took the Beanie Baby Unicorn from Harmony, and held it to her cheek. “Thank you,” she said, her voice hardly more than a throaty whisper.
“Take care of him,” Harmony told her, and returned to the elevator.
“You rest now,” Angel ordered Faith gently, and joined Harmony.
“Angel,” Faith called after him.
He turned. “Yeah?”
Faith stared at him for a moment. “Nothing,” she said weakly, and turned away, clutching the unicorn to her face.
“That was a good thing you did, Harmony,” Angel praised, as they ascended in the elevator cage. She had surprised him yet again. Half the time, more than half, she was totally self obsessed and with all the empathy of a brick. Then she would suddenly reveal unexpected depths of insight and compassion. A trait, come to think of it, that she shared with Cordelia.
“Was it?” Harmony asked. “I wasn't sure. She hit Cordy, and she hurt Wes. I feel a bit like I'm betraying them. But I tried to kill Willow twice, and I stabbed Spike and stole his ring, and they forgave me. So I thought maybe it is the right thing to do.” The elevator stopped, and they stepped out into the office. “And she hates herself, wants to die. Been there, got the T-shirt. But mainly I was just following your lead. You're the boss, after all.”
The two human members of the Angel Investigations team were less forgiving when they returned. Wesley had spent the night in hospital, but discharged himself in the morning and came in to the office, where he found Cordelia nursing a black eye. She had brought doughnuts for Faith, but resented having been asked to do so. Relations between Cordelia and Harmony were strained once more, and things got worse once Wesley began to express his own point of view. He no longer believed that there was any hope for the rogue Slayer, and said so forcefully, referring to her as a ‘rabid animal'.
“She's not an animal. She's a person,” Angel insisted. “In case you've forgotten, we're not in the business of giving up on people.”
“Don't you dare take the moral high ground with me after what she did,” Wesley replied angrily. “I believe in helping people. I do not believe in coddling murderers.”
“Wesley,” Harmony said, turning a wide-eyed sad gaze on him, “I'd been a vampire for six months before I got this chip in my head. I killed eleven people. Have you been saying things like that to Angel about me?”
“God, no, Harmony,” Wesley told her, horrified. At first, after Cordelia had brought Harmony to LA, he had despised the chipped vampire and regarded her almost as an animal that had been taught to do tricks; but before long she had become a person to him, very much the same girl who had followed Cordelia around in High School, and he had grown fond of her. “I would never do that.”
“Then why is it wrong to help Faith? I don't understand. I mean, I really don't understand the whole ‘right and wrong' thing. I work it out by thinking ‘What would Angel do, what would Spike do, what would Buffy do, what would Modesty Blaise do, what would Cordy do, and what would Wes do?'. You're not doing what I think you would do and that makes everything all confusing.”
Wesley looked into her eyes and deflated. “You're right,” he admitted. “Angel is doing the right thing in trying to get through to Faith, and you're doing the right thing in helping him. I should be helping as well. I've just ...” he lifted his hand to his face and fingered the cuts and bruises. “She - too much pain, too much anger, I can't think straight. I can't face her now. When the pain is less, when I get the full use of my right arm back, I will play my part, for what it's worth. But for now I need to spend some time away from here. A day or two, at least.” He smiled at Harmony. “I might not be back before you head off for Sunnydale, so, in case I don't see you again, goodbye and I'll miss you.”
Harmony went to him and hugged him, careful not to squeeze too hard. “I'll miss you too, Wesley.”
“She was right. You have made me proud,” he told her, returning her hug. “Take care of yourself, Harmony.”
Cordelia had been writing out cheques while this was going on, and as soon as Wesley left she presented them to Angel to sign. He did so automatically, his mind elsewhere, and it was only after he had signed the last one that he realised that they had all been payable to Cordelia. He looked at the entries she had made in the ledger. “Paid vacation? What is this?”
“Like Wesley said, I've got too much anger to be any help. So I'm taking a break. I'm entitled, I checked.” She turned to her old friend. “If you go before I get back, leave your key with Angel.” Cordelia saw a hurt look on Harmony's face, and went to her. “It's not you, Harm. I have a problem with Faith, is all. I'll miss you.” She grabbed the vampire in an impulsive hug. “Friends forever, ‘kay?”
“Friends forever,” Harmony agreed, beaming. “Or at least until you die. Not really forever, unless you get to be a vamp. In which case we'd have to get you a soul, ‘cause me staking you for being evil would just suck more than the suckiest sucky thing. Or get you a chip.”
The girls finished their goodbyes and Cordelia departed. Angel went down in the elevator to take Faith her breakfast. Left alone, Harmony thought about the broken Slayer. Fixing her was obviously the Right Thing to Do, plus Faith had said that really nice thing during their fight, so helping her was Good. But Angel had tried before and failed, and she didn't know if he would be able to succeed this time without Wesley and Cordelia. She wasn't sure how much help she could be, although she'd try. Even Mystic might not be enough.
Her brow furrowed with concentration as she searched for inspiration. She sought for analogous situations from the ‘Modesty Blaise' books. In ‘The Silver Mistress' Modesty Blaise and Willie Garvin had met Quinn, the pilot all broken up with guilt, and had fixed him, but the techniques they'd used weren't anything she could apply to Faith's situation. She needed Modesty and Willie themselves, or at least their real-life equivalents. Who were, after all, only two hours' drive away; plus she could get a ride with them back to Sunnydale afterwards. She picked up the phone, and began to dial, but then stopped. Should she consult with Angel first? No, men could be funny about admitting they could use help. He'd just have to deal with it when they arrived. She checked her watch. Good, they wouldn't be in classes. She dialled again. “Hiya, it's Harmony. Listen, I could use some help.”
“She's what?” Lee Mercer, his neck in a cast and his face a mass of bruises, almost exploded in incoherent rage as he heard the news his rival had brought.
“She's staying with him. Not only did she fail to kill him, but he's taken her in as a house guest. And I don't think it's as part of a plan to get him off guard. She tried, she failed, and now he's looking after her. Him and the blonde. The human members of his group seem to have left.” Lilah smiled sweetly at the other two. It had been Lee's idea to hire Faith, and Lindsey had pushed approval through. She had been involved, but the two men had schemed to ensure that her contribution was downplayed. Consequently, the failure would hurt them more than it would hurt her.
“We paid her half up front. Nine thousand dollars plus a thousand for expenses. When word of this gets back to the Senior Partners we're going to look like fools.” Lindsey was coldly furious. “So, what do we do about it?”
“I say we kill her,” Lee proposed. “As painfully as possible.” Lindsey nodded in agreement.
“I know just the being for the job,” Lilah informed them smoothly. “Savage, violent, and merciless. And too stupid to require payment in advance, so if it fails we're no worse off than we are now.”
Wesley looked at the board to see what live Premiership football match the pub would be showing the next morning. Sunderland versus Wimbledon. Not a selection calculated to persuade him to rise at the crack of dawn to watch. However on Sunday morning they would be showing Liverpool versus Spurs, and he might just drag himself out of bed for that one. They did serve a very nice breakfast. It was in his own interests, as an expat Englishman, to encourage the pub's showing of live English football. If they didn't get enough customer response they might stop, and how would he get to see the FA Cup Final then?
He picked up his beer and turned away from the board, scanning the pub to see if anyone he knew was in tonight. It was early, and not many customers were in yet, but there was still a reasonable chance he'd find someone to talk to over his drink. He spotted three immediately, standing near the dart board, but not from his acquaintances among the expat community. Not people he wanted to see at all. Collins, Weatherby, and Smith.
“Hello, Wesley,” Collins greeted, walking towards him. Smith raised a beer glass in greeting. Weatherby gave Wesley a mirthless grin, and turned away to throw three darts at the board. Treble twenty, single twenty, and double twenty. Shanghai. His employment by the Watchers' Council owed far more to his ability with sharp or pointed things than to his intellectual capacity.
“What do you want, Collins?” Wesley asked coldly. He knew what they'd done to Buffy. That they had thought it was Faith they were abducting didn't make him feel much warmer towards them.
Collins raised an eyebrow; he had noted the former Watcher's deliberate use of his surname, and realised that his mission wasn't going to be easy. He looked pointedly around the theme pub. “Not like the real thing, is it? Wouldn't you like to come home? Back to England with us, back to your rightful position with the Council. They're willing to reinstate you. It was a nasty business in Sunnydale, but nobody blames you.”
“Oh? I rather thought they did. Sacking me on the spot, without even my air fare home, did tend to give me that impression.”
“All a misunderstanding,” Collins assured him. He gestured towards a booth. “Join us, and I'll explain.”
“I don't get this,” Faith muttered. “It's like I woke up in a whole different world. I understand Angel, the soul thing, but I don't understand you, or Spike.” She toyed with the last slice of the pizza Harmony had brought her. “You got this chip in your head so you can't bite people, okay, but that don't make you help people. Does it?”
“Well, no,” Harmony replied. “But what else was I gonna do? The night shift at a gas station? Boring much? Anyway, it's what all my friends do. Cordy, Anya, Spike, Buffy, Willow, Angel, Wes, Xander, Mr. Giles. And Riley. Like Spike says, if you're evil you get to hang out with evil people, and they're no fun. The good guys are much nicer. It was sorta weird at first, but it's pretty cool now. Except for the scary bits, but they can be cool once they're over. Can I get you some more coffee?”
“No, I'm good,” Faith responded, and then cringed inwardly and lowered her eyes as she remembered the alternative meaning of her answer. She took a moment to recover, and then looked up at Harmony again. “So it's not all vampires that are good now? Just Angel, and you, and Spike? What's the deal with Spike, anyway? Him and Buffy? Is that why he's a good guy now?”
“Yeah, him and Buffy. That's part of it, I guess. But not the whole deal. He's good friends with all the Scooby Gang, especially Willow, and that came before he got together with Buffy. And he liked Buffy's mom even back when he was all evil. Which he totally isn't now.”
“Yeah, I got that. What's the deal with him walking in sunshine?”
“Not my place to tell.” Harmony rose, and began to clear away the dishes and the empty pizza box. “You want to rest now? Or maybe watch TV? Or we could play a game. ‘Go Fish', maybe, ‘cept that's not so good with just two, or whatever. I kinda suck at most games, but I don't mind losing.”
“Thanks, but no.” Faith smiled at Harmony. A weak, shaky, smile, but the first one which had come to her face since the previous night. “Is Angel around? I'd like to talk to him again. If that's okay with you both.”
“He's upstairs. I'll go get him.” Harmony went up to the office and sent her boss down in the elevator. Neither vampire noticed that something had stealthily entered the building and was now lying on the ceiling of the elevator cage, riding it down to the basement apartment. Something inhuman. Something savage, violent, and merciless. Although not terribly bright, or it would have used the stairs.
Collins slid a folded napkin across the table to Wesley, who peeked inside and saw a syringe. “Just jab her with it,” Collins instructed. “It'll take effect within seconds. She'll be out long enough for us to secure her for transport back to England. Once she's there we can begin her rehabilitation.”
‘Or shoot her through the back of the head, bury the body, and hope the next Chosen One is someone more biddable,' Wesley thought. “Does the Council really believe she can be rehabilitated?” he asked aloud, keeping his thoughts to himself.
“We have every confidence. Just signal us when it's done, and we'll come in and take care of the rest.” Collins smiled reassuringly.
“I have some conditions of my own,” Wesley told him. “Well, just one, actually. No harm must come to the vampires.”
“Oh, don't be a wimp!” Weatherby snapped.
Wesley pushed the napkin back across the table. “That's it, then. Unless I get a guarantee that you will not harm Angel or Harmony you will get no help from me.”
“We have no quarrel with those vampires,” Collins assured him.
“Unless you count them being vampires,” Weatherby added, causing Collins to glare at him ferociously.
“Angel is a special case,” Wesley pointed out. “He has a soul. He has reformed. In point of fact I have confronted more evil, slayed more demons, done more good working with Angel than I ever did while in the Council's employ. And Harmony is a special case too. A gentle creature, who would never willingly harm a human.” He refrained from mentioning her microchip; he could see nothing good resulting from the Council hearing about that sort of technology. “She has played her part in fighting the good fight, and in saving my own life, on more than one occasion.”
“We'll make every effort -” Collins began, but Wesley cut him off short.
“No. Not ‘every effort'. No harm. That is not negotiable. I must have your word.”
Collins hesitated, and then proffered his hand. “Done.”
“Very well then.” Wesley took the extended hand and they shook.
“It's what I did to B that's the worst,” Faith told Angel. “How can I ever make it right with her? I mean, how can I? All my life, there was just one person who tried to be my friend. Went out of her way when I had no right or reason to expect her to. And I screwed her. And I screwed with her boyfriend too, only not literally. With his mind, which was maybe worse. Tried to make him feel like he was nothing. They're ...” She stopped as she realised that Angel had gone rigid and was staring at her in shock.
“Boyfriend?” he demanded. “Not me. So who?” He remembered something Wesley had said, something Wesley had heard from Giles, and realisation dawned on him. “Spike. It's Spike.”
“You didn't know?” Faith asked, upset, her eyes wide. “But Harmony was talking about it, I thought you must know. Oh, God, don't tell me I've fucked things up for her again.”
“Not your fault, you weren't to know.” He reached out his hand and touched her cheek gently. “You okay for a minute while I go and kick my loyal secretary's ass? Find out what else she's been keeping from me?”
“Don't hurt her,” Faith begged him. “She won't have meant any harm. If they asked her not to tell, it's not her fault. I asked her about something else to do with Spike, she just clammed up, said it wasn't her place to tell. She's loyal to him; it don't mean she's not loyal to you as well.”
“Of course I won't hurt her,” Angel said gently. “That was kick ass in a strictly verbal way. Being angry with Harmony for long is pretty much impossible. It would be like holding a grudge against a puppy.” He headed for the elevator. “Back in five.”
Faith went to the bed and lay down. The creature clinging to the ceiling bared its teeth in an anticipatory snarl and began to inch forward. It had taken it a long time to work its way into position, a great deal of effort to get there undetected, but the hard work had paid off. The target was now alone and unsuspecting. Showtime.
Angel heard voices from the office as he rode up in the elevator, but assumed at first that Harmony was listening to the radio, or talking on the phone, and took little notice. Only when the cage rose above floor level did he realise who was speaking.
“... would be fine. I guess I can cope with a ghost; after all, I shared a dorm room with a demon for a while. As long as Dennis doesn't play Celine Dion songs I can deal.” It was Buffy. A happy, smiling, Buffy.
For a moment, as he stepped into the room, there was no-one in his universe but Buffy. Nothing else mattered. And then he looked into her eyes and realised that she was not experiencing the same sensations at all. He wasn't the only one in her world. She was pleased to see him, yes, but there was nothing more than friendship in her eyes. And she hadn't come alone, Spike was with her, she was holding his hand, and she didn't even let go when Angel walked in. His heart broke. It was almost a relief to hear the scream from below.
Faith closed her eyes for a moment and thought about sleep. No, not worth it, Angel would be back down in a little while after he'd torn Harmony a new one. Maybe she'd watch TV. She opened her eyes again and looked up into a face from Hell.
Angel charged out of the lift in game face and saw Faith struggling with a demon. It had seized her by the throat and was pulling her towards its fanged mouth. Before he could reach them she had freed herself by reproducing a move Buffy had used on her in their last encounter; bringing her arms up over its arms, forcing its elbows down, and launching a head-butt to meet its face as it was jerked forward. She twisted its hand, or rather paw, hard enough to break a human wrist, but the creature went with the move and pulled free. Angel hit it hard from behind, knocking it back towards Faith, who kicked it across the room.
Buffy, Spike, and Harmony had raced towards the elevator but were too late to catch it before Angel descended. Rather than wait for it to come up again Spike dropped onto its roof, opened the hatch, and jumped down into the elevator cage and then ran out into the apartment, closely followed by Buffy. “Why didn't they take the stairs?” Harmony wondered briefly, but then followed their example.
Angel closed on the demon and pulled out a stake. His opponent wasn't a vampire, but pointed sticks in the right place could kill or injure most beings. He didn't get the chance to test the creature's vulnerability; it leaped into the air, caught onto the ceiling with its claws, and scuttled across the room upside down like a diabolical mutant sloth. It was aiming for Faith once more rather than giving up and running, which would have been a far more sensible option given the odds it now faced.
Buffy jumped high towards Spike. He caught her hips and supported her like a Pairs skater as she grabbed the creature by its crest of hair and jerked it from the ceiling. It crashed heavily to the ground in front of Harmony, who stamped down hard on a leg, bringing an eerie gurgling scream from its throat. The demon scuttled awkwardly away on three legs, still trying to get to Faith, who ran to the apartment's kitchen and snatched up a carving knife.
Raising itself unsteadily onto two legs, one apparently broken, the creature launched itself at the rogue Slayer with its fanged maw gaping and clawed hands slashing. She blocked with ease and rammed the knife into its chest. An instant later Angel drove his stake down into its neck. It collapsed, screeching and hissing, writhed on the floor for a moment, and then lay still.
Faith stared at the knife in her hand, which was dripping with the demon's blood. She raised her eyes to Buffy and Spike, dropped the knife as if it was red hot, and backed slowly away from the demon corpse until she reached a kitchen stool, at which point she sat down quickly as if the effort of standing had become too much for her.
For a long moment no-one spoke, and then Spike broke the awkward silence. “Did we come at a bad time?”
Angel and Spike took the demon's body away into the sewers for disposal. Harmony made coffee for Buffy and Faith, fastened up the elevator hatch, and went up to the office, leaving the two girls alone together. Faith began to stammer out an apology, eyes wet with tears, but Buffy raised a hand to silence her.
“Giles once told me something very wise about forgiveness,” she began, “but I don't remember it exactly. And me and Spike talked all the way here in the car, and he said some stuff which made a lot of sense, and he gave me this story about Faith, Hope, and Charity, and it was all good stuff except that he sort of lost me with the bit about the gladiators and the three old biplanes. Then I got to thinking for myself, and I thought, you and me, we've both got things wrong, and both hurt each other a lot, so instead of worrying about whose fault it was or who did what to who, why don't we just stop?”
“Stop?” Faith asked hesitantly.
Buffy smiled at her, her eyes grave and sad despite the smile. “Yeah. Stop hurting each other. Stop fighting. Call it quits, and work on how to fix things. Got to be better than what we've been doing to each other.”
“Oh, B, B, you'd do that? Start over?” Tears ran down Faith's cheeks.
“I will if you will.” Buffy's cheeks were wet with tears too by now.
“God, B, of course I will. I don't deserve it, I don't deserve anything from you.”
“You came back,” Buffy reminded her. “You didn't have to, and you came back. Saved a lot of people, including Riley, who's a friend of Spike's and I get on okay with him too. You deserve more than you think. Anyway, it's not about what either of us deserves. It's about what we need.”
“The Riley that Harmony talks about?” Faith asked, momentarily distracted.
“She does?” Buffy sat forward, interested. “I saw her flirting with him at my birthday party, and she did save his life once, and when she - something bad happened to her he was real upset, but ... so she talks about him, huh? Like she's interested? That is sorta weird, ‘cause he's one of the outfit which put that microchip in her head. He is kind of cute, though, so maybe not so surprising.”
“Yeah, I saw him through the window of Giles' place, he's not bad. Not as hot as Spike, though.” Faith had relaxed, perked up, and begun to smile, but then as she mentioned Spike the memories hit her and the smile drained away.
Buffy reached out and took her hand. “Hey, it's okay,” she said softly. “Starting over, remember?”
“Yeah,” Faith choked out, and then lost control and began sobbing. She reached out blindly and took hold of Buffy, who embraced her in return, and then she too began to cry. When at last they released each other most of the pain and resentment had been washed away.
“So, you and Buffy?” Angel asked, as calmly as he could manage.
Spike avoided Angel's eyes. “Harm not keep her mouth shut, then?”
“When were you going to tell me?”
“Soon as this thing with Faith was out of the way. Didn't want to make things even more sodding complicated, y'know? Suppose we should have told you before, but it's not the sort of thing I could tell you on the phone. Last time I saw you was when I came over for Doyle's funeral, and that wasn't really the time. We hadn't really started going out together then, anyway, although it was starting to look on the cards.” Spike sighed, and dumped a shovel full of dirt onto the demon's corpse. “I know I'm not sodding well good enough for her, told her often enough, but she won't be told.”
“Yeah.” Angel lifted a concrete slab and dropped it on top of the body. “You take care of her, okay? Do your best to make her happy. I could love her, but I don't think I ever managed to make her happy.”
“I'll do my best, mate. ‘Course, her not being able to make you happy was always going to be a bit of a bugger, wasn't it? Bloody gypsies.” Spike shook his head as he poured more dirt onto the improvised grave. “Sod it, you being decent about it is making me feel like even more of a bastard. Why don't you yell at me and make threats?” He stepped back and looked at the burial spot. “That should be good enough. No-one'll stumble over the bugger for a good long while. What sort of demon was he, anyway? Dark blue skin, four eyes, definitely a new one on me. And what was he after Faith for anyway?”
“I don't recognise the type either,” Angel admitted. “But as to why he was after Faith, I think the people who sent her after me are probably a bit upset that she failed. They paid her ten thousand dollars in advance, and she hasn't delivered. That thing was probably just the first of many.” He turned to walk away, leading the way back towards the apartment.
“Not good for the poor bint,” Spike commented, following Angel. “Maybe she should give them the dosh back, take a bit of the heat off.”
Angel turned and stared at him. “You're right! It just might work. That's a great idea.”
“Yeah, I'm not just a pretty face, mate.”
“Don't you mean ‘not even'?”
Spike stuck his hands in his pockets and fidgeted. He wanted a cigarette, but Buffy was trying to get him to give up, or at least to cut down. “Don't worry about it, pet,” he told Faith, cutting short her stumbling apology. “No harm, no foul. Sticks and stones may break my bones, but words can never hurt me. Well, with me it's pretty much the other way round, I suppose, but never mind. Buffy says call it quits, and that's good enough for me.”
Faith tried again to apologise, and to thank him for being so understanding, and again he cut her off. “Can it, pet. You're making me all embarrassed. Let's just concentrate on how we're going to sort things out for you. Angel reckons those lawyer pillocks are pissed off at you taking their money and not giving them the results, and that Blue Meanie with his ‘dancing on the ceiling' trick was their way of telling you that you've been a naughty girl. And there'll be more.”
Faith swallowed hard. “Yeah. One more bit of trouble I've brought down on everybody.”
“Forget about it. I said to Angel, suppose you give the cash back? And he thinks it's a good idea. Could get them off your back, at least, get rid of at least one thing you've got to worry about.”
“I can't. I've spent some of it. Fifteen hundred dollars. Food, clothes, a gun, paying off some debts.”
“Not a problem.” Spike grinned cheerfully, pleased that he was able to bring some good news. “Remember the five thousand dollars you left behind when you went back to your own body? We've brought it along. Well, we've taken out the cost of the air ticket you got on Joyce's credit card, but you can have the rest back. Give the bastards their money back, and you'll still have some cash to tide you over if you decide to bugger off to South America or somewhere.”
“If? What else would I do? Give myself up to the cops?”
“Your decision, love. Can't criticise you for whatever you choose, not after all the things I've done and got away with. But running away all your life maybe isn't much of a life. Just your bloody luck that about the only killing that the dozy gits in the Sunnydale PD could ever be arsed to properly investigate was the one you did. Not fair, I know, but you're stuck with it.”
“You think I should give myself up?” Faith asked hesitantly, avoiding meeting Spike's eyes.
“Not my place to say. Don't see me giving myself up, do you? Difference is, I suppose, that no-one's looking for me, or Harm, and we haven't been on the TV news. Also, I'm not screwing myself up with guilt. Not saying I don't feel it, definitely a lot of things I regret, but I'm coping. It's breaking you up.” Spike pulled out his cigarettes. “Do us a favour, love. Have a fag so I can snatch a few drags without Buffy knowing I've been smoking indoors.”
“A what?” Faith was baffled.
“A cigarette, love, not a gay bloke. I know you smoke.” He passed her a cigarette, which she accepted gratefully. “Oh, sod it,” he muttered, as she lit up. “Angel rates me much too highly. I'm no bloody good at this counselling stuff. Just ‘cos he thinks I did a good job with that Rachel bint, and all I did was tell her about some of the stuff that went down between me and Dru.”
Faith passed the cigarette to Spike, who drew on it eagerly and then hastily passed it back as he heard the elevator descending. “Pussy whipped, huh?” Faith mocked him, but her tone was gently teasing and her smile was genuine and friendly.
“Suppose so,” Spike admitted. “But she's worth it.”
“Wesley! You're all cool looking,” Buffy greeted the former Watcher. “Not that you weren't before, except that you weren't, what with the tweed and stuff, but you are now. Good to see you.”
“Good to see you too, Buffy,” Wesley smiled. “I'm afraid, though, that you have come at a bad time.”
Buffy, Harmony, and even Angel burst into laughter. Wesley raised his eyebrows, taken aback. “You had to be there,” Buffy chuckled. “Go on.”
“In about twenty minutes,” Wesley obeyed, “the Council's Operations Team will be here.” The laughter died. “They'll expect to find you two gone,” he gestured at Angel and Harmony, “and Faith drugged.” He held up the syringe. “They don't know about Buffy.”
“Spike's here too,” Angel told Wesley. “Downstairs, with Faith. How many of them are there?”
“Three. So we have them outnumbered, at least.”
“I know those guys. They're killers,” Buffy said soberly, remembering the gun poking through the truck window and the conversation about burning the building with her body inside. “They'll have guns.”
“And crossbows, and stakes. I extracted a promise from them not to harm Angel or Harmony, but only because they'd never have believed I was cooperating if I didn't. I don't for one moment expect them to keep it. Leave by the sewers?” Wesley looked to Angel, who thought for a moment.
“No,” he decided. “I think we'll give them what they expect to find. Harmony and I will go out for a little visit to Wolfram and Hart, and let them see us leaving. We've got allies they don't expect; let's set a little trap.”
“Where is she?” Collins asked. His eyes flickered warily around the office, and he kept his finger on the trigger of his ‘Carl Gustav' sub-machine gun.
“Downstairs, on Angel's bed. I couldn't carry her up here by myself.” Wesley looked pointedly at the gun. “Is that really necessary? I thought you said that this would keep her unconscious for a long time.” He held up a syringe, which Collins could see was now empty.
“I'm not taking any chances with a superhuman psychopath,” the operations team leader replied. “Okay, we'll go down and get her. Smith, stay up here in case the vampires come back. Weatherby, come with me.”
Wesley and the two operatives descended in the elevator. Smith watched them go, then saw something which made him snatch for his crossbow. What was that on the roof of the lift cage? Before he could aim, or shout, something hit him behind the knee with tremendous force, folding his leg up and sending him sprawling backwards. A slim, almost dainty, arm wrapped round his neck and squeezed. Hard.
“What the fuck?” Weatherby exclaimed, trying to raise his Uzi but catching the barrel on Collins. The hatch at the top of the cage fell open and a figure dropped into the compartment. A black-clad shape, its long leather coat shrouding it like wings. A vampire.
“Now, mate, I don't think you want to do that,” Spike warned the Council men. “A machine gun's sod all use in a confined space, especially against a vampire, whereas this,” he touched his kukri to Collins' throat, “is about as good as it gets. Apart, maybe, from these.” He went into game face, and snarled at Weatherby, who flinched and clawed for his crossbow. Wesley caught his arm and prevented the movement.
“Filthy vampire! Wesley, you're a fucking traitor,” Weatherby swore. “Do the sacred oaths you swore as a Watcher mean nothing to you now?”
“As a matter of fact they do,” Wesley told him. “But I never promised to work with a complete arse like you.” He stabbed a hypodermic needle into Weatherby's buttock, and squeezed the plunger. “By the way, the empty syringe I showed you upstairs wasn't the one you gave me. Sweet dreams.”
“You're not Angel,” Collins said to the vampire, staying very still even though the elevator had reached the bottom and the door was opening. A kukri resting on the carotid artery was a remarkable incentive to acquiescence.
“Give the Watcher a cigar,” Spike replied. “Looked us up in your Observer's Book of Vampires, did you?” He removed the machine gun from Collins' unresisting hands. “Ooh, a ‘Swedish K'. Haven't seen one of these for years. Might hang on to this. What should we do with these wankers, pet?”
Collins turned, very slowly, and looked into Faith's eyes. The eyes of someone he knew to be a deadly killer. Although also the person who had spared Smith's life when he was at her mercy, and had done nothing worse to himself or Weatherby than to knock them out when she had escaped from them in Sunnydale.
“Hang on to them until after I've turned myself in to the cops,” Faith replied.
“So you've made your choice, pet. I'm proud of you,” Spike told her.
“That was my line, I think,” Wesley protested. “Faith, I am proud of you. You are doing the right thing, and I hope you find peace.”
“I did the crime. Only right for me to do the time,” Faith responded, with a smile. A calm, tranquil, smile.
Faith cut the lawyer's long-winded explanation off short. “I'd have confessed to everything anyway. You can get me seven to ten with the plea bargain, that's fine by me. Just tell me what to call the judge, and when to say ‘guilty'.”