Title: Broken
Author: Cleo Calliope
E-mail: mailto:Angelos_Girl@hotmail.com

Rating: PG-13 (just some swearing)
Keywords: Angst
Spoilers: none
Feedback: Do I really have to beg?
Pairing:  Angel/Cordelia (implied)  Wesley/Gunn (implied)
Summary: Faith watches those around her, and waits.

Author's Note:  Don't ask.  It just came to me and I wrote it in about a half-hour.  Why, how, or when, Faith got out of prison and started working with the AI crew, I have no idea.  But she was there, and she had some stuff to say.

Nothing.  

I wait, but nothing happens.  It's like this thing in my chest is broken.  Sure, it beats fast when I run and slow when I sleep, and sometimes it even aches so bad I think I'm gonna die.  But it doesn't do the other thing it's supposed to do.

What's that saying?  Just wait, it'll happen?  Yeah, right.  If I hear that one more time I'm gonna be sick.  It seems like I've been waiting forever, but it's never happened.  

Of course, they don't usually bother to tell me it'll happen.  Who's the latest conquest, Faith?  That's all it ever is.  Snide remarks about how I'm a slut.  What the hell do they know about it anyway!  Do they think I fuckin' wanna be like this?  

I hate it.

I hate the girls I sleep with and I hate the guys even more.  They all use me as much, if not more, than I use them.  I'm nothing more than a good piece of tail and I know it.  But I just want to be touched.  I crave human contact.  And that's the only way I can get it.

They think I'm cold.  Sometimes I think they're right.  Can I even feel love?  I know I can care.  I have cared, I do care… But I've never loved. Not like that.

They talk about the agonies of love, the crazy things it makes you do.  But I can't join in the conversation.  Just one more way I'm not like them.  What do I know about love?  Nothing but what I've seen.  Granted, I've seen a lot, more than they guess.  But in the end imagination isn't going to cut it.

I watch them, and I see it.  Everyday it's there.  I watch Angel and Cordelia talking.  Doesn't even matter what it is they are talking about. There's just something in the way their eyes meet.  A closeness, a spark.  They've never touched one another, at least, not in that way. But somehow, they're lovers just the same.  The words have never been said.  They don't need to be.  It's just there.  I had no idea it could be like that.  So intense and so utterly pure.  But it only serves to remind me how dirty I am.

Then there's good ole Wes and that new guy, Gunn.  They're always laughing together.  Secret handshakes and inside jokes.  Just good buddies, slapping each other on the back and going out for drinks.  But it's there too if you look.  The same closeness, the softening when their eyes meet, the way they look out for each other.  They are friends, first and foremost, just like Angel and Cordelia.  But, just like with them, that's not all there is to it.  Have they gone farther?  I don't have a clue.  Shit, would I ever like to though. What a hot sight that would be.  

I've never had a friendship that close before.  I'm always on the outside looking in.  I was that way in Sunnydale and I'm that way in LA. Angel tries to pull me in despite Wes' best efforts to keep me out.  Whatever.

I just sit off to the side.  I make snide comments and do my job.  I believe in what I'm doing.  Funny, that it's taken me this long to get things straight.  I'm busy so most of the time I can ignore it.  There's cases to work on, souls to save.  But it still leaves this empty space inside of me

I try to find obsessions to fill it, but nothing ever does.  Dancing, drinking, killing… it's all the same in the end.  A way to fill up a hole inside that can never be filled.  

It wouldn't be so damn bad if I didn't have to see it every fucking day.  I'm forced to watch the intricate dances of those around me. Sometimes it seems like they're so close that their very souls are somehow entwined.  It doesn't matter that I've never seen any of them actually touch each other like that.  It still feels like I'm watching their first kiss, sweet and perfect.  Perfect, because it will go on forever. The newness of it will never fade.  They always seem to find something new in each other, some thing fascinating and wonderful.

I remember my first kiss.  He stuck his tongue in my mouth and I nearly gagged.  All I could do was wonder what all the fuss was about.  Why is this supposed to be so fucking great?  I'm still waiting for an answer.

Sex is just sex.  It's meaningless.  I want to know what gives it meaning.  What it is about the simple touch of one person's lips to another than can be so amazing.  The kind of kiss that leaves you dreamy.  I just don't get it.  But damn, I want to.  I ache to.

Sometimes, I run into people I used to know.  They don't ever ask me if I have a boyfriend, or even a girlfriend.  Hell, I'm really not that picky.  But they know me.  Faith is all about one night stands and casual sex.  But it's because it's all I know.

There are times when I hate them.  I hate the way Wes and Gunn always know that the other is at their back, without question.  The safety that comes with someone that close.  I hate the way Angel and Cordelia seem to make-love with just a glance.  The way they smile at each other.  They'll just look at into one another's eyes for a few minutes, and they seem to come away from that exchange more satisfied then a hundred guys in my bed could ever satisfy me.

Because I'm empty.  I'm cold.  

I want to feel.  I really do.  I want to feel love and friendship.  I wanna go crazy with it.  I want to be sappy and silly… and safe.  What does it feel like to be safe in someone's arms?  I never feel safe.

They say hope springs eternal, but I've just gotten so damn tired of it.  Of looking closely at all the people I meet.  Wondering, could this be the one?  Could those arms hold me, keep me safe?  Could those lips leave me dreamy?  Could those eyes look into my soul, and like what they see?

I'm just so fucking TIRED of wondering.  Hope is all fine and dandy, but it can't live forever on nothing and neither can I.

All I can do is wait, and maybe one day…  But the truth is I seriously doubt it.  Whatever is wrong with me isn't going to be solved any time soon.  

Sure, I'm pretty.  Hell, I'm damn hot and I know it.  They all look when I walk down the street.  What the fuck good does it do me?  

Because, you see, this thing in my chest just doesn't work right.  It's broken.

And I guess, in way so am I.

The End