Title: Play Dead (2/2)
Series: Surviving Sunnydale
Author: Faithtastic
E-mail: faithtastic@jturner93.fsnet.co.uk
Website: http://www.spiderplant.fsnet.co.uk
Summary: Sequel to ‘Through The Dark.’ The fallout.
Rating: NC-17 for f/f slash and strong language.
Spoilers: General up to the end of Angel season 1 and Buffy season 4.
Distribution: UCSL, SapphicSlayer, BtVSslash, CordySlash, cordyhasfaith, Paradoxical F/F, f/foxy. Anywhere else, please e-mail me first.
Feedback: Damnation, praise, gypsy curses, lesbian lifepartner proposals, all welcome. I’ll pass on the lawsuits though.
Disclaimer: The characters belong to Joss. Hence, he’s rich and I’m not.
Notes: This is AU, Gunn isn't part of the Angel Investigations gang, Darla isn't human and Faith and Cordy have an on-again, off-again relationship type thingy.
Acknowledgements to Dolores and Roz for listening to ideas, Losh for insisting I write the next part, C Summers for being a sweetie, and the regulars on #ucshippers for being ever-fabulous. Mwah dahlinks.
Listening accompaniment: No. 1 Crush by Garbage, Tori Amos' cover of Lovesong by the Cure, and Black Velvet by Allanah Myles.

***

It was dark by the time Faith showed up at Angel’s. She had to wait until she was sure Cordelia and Wesley had left for the day. C, she wanted to avoid for obvious reasons, Wesley ‘cause she knew he’d rat to C if he saw her. Sometimes they were like an old married couple and sometimes she actually got jealous about it. How fucked up was that? And… she was pretty sure that Wes was fluent in fag anyway. Like, had he *ever* had a girlfriend?

As usual deadboy sensed her before she announced herself, which could be really irritating if you were aiming on stealth. He looked up from his book and he actually registered a facial expression other than pained. He seemed surprised and a little relieved to see her. But something in his face shifted, darkened, as he stared at her.

"Where have you been?" he asked quietly.

"Here and there," she lied. "Ran into an old friend of yours." Nope, really trying not to think about the mind-blowing sex. There had to be etiquette about that kind of stuff. Fucking the sire of your girlfriend’s boss. Bring it on, Jerry Springer.

"Darla," Angel said without inflection.

Faith frowned. "How did you know?"

He put the book down flat on the table and stood slowly, his six foot plus frame making the room seem suddenly small. "I can smell her," was all he said by way of explanation and Faith decided to stick to bullet points because that would avoid awkward questions arising. The dark vampire was remote at the best of times and she could see him withdrawing into himself further.

"She’s in bed with Wolfram and Hart. Just thought you might wanna know." Faith shrugged nervously and stuffed her hands into her jeans.

Angel just nodded and continued to stare at her unnervingly. "What?" she demanded finally, unable to bare the silence.

"Cordelia’s been worried." Something about the way he said ‘worried’ made Faith think that was a huge understatement. "She’s been moping around like Gucci’s gone bankrupt."

Faith cracked a guilty smile at that. "My head’s a mess," she admitted softly.

"I know what it’s like, Faith. I’ve been there," Angel said, the ghosts of his past seemed ever-present. They haunted him every day and night and he suffered in silence because you do what you have to do. "You become so used to the darkness that you can’t believe there’s anything else. But you have to stop running." He took a few steps towards her, his face cast in shadow but his eyes penetrating. "You have the power in you to change."

She was always uncomfortable when Angel dished out his pearls of wisdom. On one hand, she felt like making a joke of it. How often did Angel say more than three words at a time, anyway? On the other, he could pin down exactly what she was thinking or feeling and that scared her. And when she really got into the mechanics of it, why was he even helping her in the first place? She’d tried to kill him a few times. Still, he wouldn’t turn her away.

"Fight the good fight, you mean? I don’t know if I can do that yet."

Angel nodded. "It doesn’t happen overnight. Whatever you decide, there’s always a place for you here."

The slayer gave a genuine smile. "Thanks, I appreciate it."

"Angel?" They heard a voice in the hallway, Cordelia’s.

They exchanged glances. "Angel, I can’t face her yet," Faith pleaded and the vampire nodded towards his closet. No sooner had she closed the door behind her, leaving a tiny crack to peek through, than Cordelia breezed into the room.

"You still haven’t mastered the concept of knocking," Angel said, deadpan.

"What? Oh, sorry," Cordelia said in an unapologetic tone. Shit, C really did look out of it, mismatched clothing, and all. But the strain was especially visible in her eyes. She looked like she hadn’t slept at all in the last forty eight hours. "I guess you haven’t heard from her then." There was a dim hopefulness in her words and it made Faith’s stomach twist.

Angel, carefully, said nothing. With a heavy sigh, Cordelia sank down onto the edge of the mattress. Hesitantly, Angel placed a comforting hand on the actress’s shoulder and glanced towards the closet. Faith didn’t want to put him in this position, after everything he’d done to help her, but she just couldn’t deal with this right now. The guilt was just eating away at her. And seeing C like this, so deflated and unlike herself…

"I’m sure she’ll be in contact soon," Angel said with a slight wince.

Cordelia ignored that. "Y’know, Detective Lockley called me today. She wanted to know why Faith hasn’t seen her parole officer in two weeks. I had to lie, obviously. It’s lucky I’m such a good actress. She also told me that if Faith doesn’t show up by the end of the week she’ll be in violation of the conditions of her parole." Cordelia hung her head. "Angel, she could end up back in prison. God, she’s stubborn enough to do that."

"I wouldn’t worry, Cordelia…"

The actress looked up sharply at her employer, a formidable glint in her eye. "Do you know something? Have *you* seen her?" From her hiding place, Faith willed him to deny all knowledge.

Angel squirmed with the truth. He sighed. "Yes." Damn, he was begging for some deep pain.

"Oh my God," Cordelia yelled, standing up, "I’ve been going, like, totally crazy and you’ve known the whole time?" She folded her arms in a classic pissed off Queen C pose. "You never could say no to a slayer, could you?"

The vampire just gave her a warning look. "Cordelia. Please."

"What? Please thank you for taking her side? Sorry, but why are you protecting her?"

"Someone has to," Angel replied quietly.

Cordelia gave a thoroughly fake smile. "Oh, it’s ‘help the deranged’ now, is it? Did she tell you she was about to rearrange my face before she ran away? Again."

No, Faith hadn’t and she could see Angel was struggling. "I’m sorry but she came to me for help."

The actress was quiet for a moment. "Yeah, well, so did I. Thanks for your *help*, Angel."

As quickly as she appeared, Cordelia was gone, leaving Angel staring into space. Sheepishly, Faith emerged from the closet, knocking over an old shoe box full of photographs of Buffy that were curling at the edges. She picked them up, looking at one of Buffy smiling, hair lit like a halo by sunshine. It occurred to her that maybe Buffy Summers *was* the centre of the universe. Otherwise, none of them would’ve met, wouldn’t be in this mess and they would’ve been all the happier. Because, fuck knows, they were all wicked miserable now. "Thanks, I owe you, big guy."

Angel took the photographs out of her hands and replaced them in the shoe box, closing the closet door securely. "No, you owe Cordelia." That was all he said before he left, with anger in his voice.

To be continued…