I’d been hoping I could change her, that somehow what had happened between us would give me a sharper edge than Buffy or Giles. That what had happened between us mattered to her. I shouldn’t have tried to fool myself. She was out for the physical satisfaction and I was the nearest available lay.

And then of course, that attempted homicide didn’t exactly fan the flame of my affection. Maybe my lust, those people who are into BDSM kinda know what they’re talking about, but we won’t go there. And then there was that whole deal where she went into cahoots with the Mayor, then got herself knifed when she went after Buffy’s undead lover. The coma, well, we thought it might make a difference. Or, okay, I did. I think everyone else pretty much hoped she’d stay there forever.

But I knew better. I knew one day she’d come back. And when I was honest with myself, I hoped it would mean something for us. That we’d get a chance to pick up where we left off, or, without the fingerprints imbedded in my throat. That maybe her near-death experience had shaken her up enough that she wanted to maybe give a real relationship a chance. See what she’d been missing out on, had almost completely missed the boat on.

But she never changed who she was. She didn’t get into the killing routine, unless it had sharp pointy teeth and yellow eyes. But she was still untouchable, unreachable. Cold and remote. She made nice with Buffy, actually managed to get on Willow’s good side, and struck up a friendly little liaison with Spike that lasted all of twenty minutes. But it was like I never existed.

And damn it, that made me want her even more.

The colder she was to me, the more I wanted to be the one who warmed her up. I wanted to show her that she was capable of being loved, that there might actually be a person in the world who would love her and not walk away from her. I wanted to show her that she didn’t have to be afraid of losing herself, losing control and identity, just because she was with someone.

I wanted her to love me. Because for as much as I tried not to, tried to deny it, I had sure as hell fallen in love with her. And I wanted to be the one who opened her eyes to what love could do.

Me? I was just sick of eternally being excluded, not fitting into their plans because I was the townie, the kid who still lived in his parents’ basement. So when Giles got us admitted to UC-Sunnydale, and pressured the Council into giving Faith and I “scholarships,” I jumped at the opportunity.

Now sometimes, it’s her and me. We’re still the outsiders, although it’s getting better. Willow and Buffy have their own thing, they’re still best friends, they still see each other every day and talk to each other, and it’s like high school only better. Occasionally their light moves into my lonely circle, and I get to feel a part of them again.

But mostly, it’s us. Faith and I. We’re the answer in that IQ test, which two are not like the rest of the group? We’re not. We hunt, we fight, we slay. Well, Faith slays, I toss stakes and holy water to those who might make better use of it. But when it’s time to go home, when we all go our separate ways, it’s us. Giles and Spike go back to his apartment, Buffy and Willow and Oz to the dorms. I go home, still living in my parents’ basement, only they tolerate me better now because they actually think I’m making something of myself by going on to college.

Faith, well, we never really learned where Faith goes. She’s still secretive. She watches the rest of us leave, then she’s gone herself. The one occasion when Giles tried to follow her, she just stayed where she was until he gave up. So Faith’s whereabouts when she wasn’t in class or out patrolling, remained a mystery.

Then last night, came the inevitable night. The night she came home with me, like it was the most natural of occurrences. I didn’t ask. I didn’t push. I just opened the front door and hoped that my dad wasn’t sober enough to call Faith a slut. But as always, my parents were passed out, stone-cold drunk, on the living room floor. They wouldn’t have noticed if I had brought home the entire Sunnydale police force.

So I led her down the stairs, not saying a word. I pulled off my shirt and tossed it on the pile of laundry in the corner, then smoothed out the comforter on my bed. While I had my back turned she stripped from her clothes without even blinking an eye, and then my jeans were headed south, accompanied by my boxers. It was just like the first time we were together, only this time I was a little bit more prepared.

“Faith, no,” I said gently. She looked at me in shock.

“You’re kidding,” she protested. She ran a hand over my chest, letting it trail slowly southwards. Her crimson lips turned up into her most seductive smile. “I can already tell you’re remembering our last ‘up with people’ experience,” she purred, bringing her lips to my ear.

I pushed her down on the bed and she smiled, thinking I was going to try and dominate her. Instead, I pulled my boxers back up and grabbed the extra blanket, then went to curl up in the chair. “Good night, Faith,” I said softly.

She glared at me. “This isn’t happening, Xander,” she ground out. “I just followed you home, you’re *not* tossing me aside like some prissy little virginal college bitch,” she added.

I leaned back in the chair, trying to get comfortable, as I adjusted the blanket. I was quiet for a moment, then opted to be honest with her. “You don’t get it, Faith,” I said quietly. “You and I aren’t about sex. Oh, we very easily could be. But I’m not gonna let it happen. You’re worth more than that, and I’m going to make you see it.”

Faith blinked, stunned. “Oh really,” she said lamely. I don’t think anyone had ever said anything like that to her before. Maybe some guys had made weak proclamations of love, but I really doubt that anyone had ever told her she was worth better than what she was trying to get for herself.

I nodded. “Really, Faith.” I pulled the blanket up to my chin, pretending that I was going to go to sleep. I knew what would happen, would be anything but restful. “So I suggest you just pull the comforter up, put your head on the pillow, and go to sleep. You could always leave, if you’d like,” I suggested, praying she’d ignore it. “But nothing’s going to happen here tonight other than you and me, sleeping. Not having sex.”

Faith wilted. I doubt anyone had ever been able to turn her down before. She quietly lifted the corner of the comforter up and swung her legs underneath, settling down quickly. I snapped off the light and we lay there for what seemed forever, just breathing. I listened to her rhythmic intakes of breath, marveling at how peaceful she was in sleep. In the faint moonlight that came from the small window in the corner, I could see her features, relaxed for once, void of the wariness and pretense she kept up on a daily basis.

I sighed, shifting a little in the chair. It wasn’t the most comfortable place to spend the night, but it was worth it if I got the point across to her.

“Xander?”

The sound of my name in the otherwise quiet room startled me. “Faith?”

“Come here?”

I groaned silently. The innocence that laced her tone was more of a turn-on than her sexy come-hither pouts and purrs. “Faith, I already told you-.”

“No,” she interrupted me. “Just come here. Lay with me. Hold me.”

I stared at her in disbelief, although the cast of the moonlight probably prevented her from seeing it. "You’re sure?” I asked uncertainly.

She nodded, her hair rustling softly in the darkness. “More than sure. Sleep with me, Xander.”

I slid out of the chair and walked the few steps to the bed, sitting down on the edge and lifting the blanket. She scooted over and I lay down, holding myself rigidly. It wasn’t like I hadn’t ever had sex before, had never slept with a woman in my bed. But this thing with Faith was so touchy, so precarious, I didn’t want to do anything to set it off…

Faith took care of my problem for me. She curled up next to me, throwing one arm around my waist and laying her head on my chest, her silky hair caressing my nipple. Her soft curves were flush with my hard body and a groan rumbled in my chest. Laying with her was sheer torture, to feel her against me and not be able to touch her.

I held fast to my resolve and didn’t do anything more than wrap one arm around her shoulders and press a kiss to the top of her raven head. “Good night, Faith.”

“Xander?” she said tentatively.

“What?”

“Thank you.”

I smiled in the darkness. I knew I was on the right road. And all it took was a little patience and a whole lot of love. “Not a problem, Faith. Not a problem at all.”