*When I look back upon my life*

Faith jumped up onto the window ledge with catlike agility, settling down against the cold stone- a shadow among shadows. The mayor’s last gift to her burned in her hand like cold fire, a supernatural prickle on her skin. A final gift, a final answer... the final betrayal.

*It's always with a sense of shame*

She thought that she’d forgotten how to feel regret a long time ago but there it was again, a leering presence in the back of her mind, ready to remind her of everything that had happened before. Everything that she’d _done_ before.

As if she could forget.

*I've always been the one to blame*

And still, after all that, there was Buffy. Still being Buffy. Still hoping that there was some way to change her, still with that terrible wistful look in her eyes. Faith knew _that look_. She’d seen it in too many eyes before, that look that begged her to be kinder, or nicer, but above all _different_. And if she’d only do that, if she could only be somebody else, then she could stay. Then Buffy would...

No. Faith’s fist slammed against the bare brick. And again, and again, until she felt the satisfying heat of pain spreading through her. It wouldn’t last nearly long enough, her damned Slayer skills would see to that. But there were always other walls. And she couldn’t afford to let her mind wander down that path again.

*For everything I long to do*

She’d gone there before, and it had almost killed her. She’d seen _that look_ in Buffy’s eyes, and instead of laughing at the other Slayer’s misplaced hope... she started to share it. Started to believe that she could be a part of something, that she could see Buffy every day, smiling at her and not being afraid or disgusted or... anything. A quiet laugh escaped her lips and was swallowed up by the night. Well, now she had that chance again.

Two chances actually. She could use the Mayor’s gift, and take Buffy’s life. Or she could try one last time to share it.

And fail again.

*No matter when or where or who*

It didn’t matter how nice Buffy tried to be, and it didn’t matter how much Faith tried to deserve it. It wouldn’t change anything. Faith could slay a thousand demons, and save the world from the apocalypse on a nightly basis, and sooner or later there would come a choice.

And she would make the wrong one.

*Has one thing in common, too*

If nothing else, there would come a time when she would have to, _have to_ touch Buffy. Not pats on the shoulder or the accidental brush of bodies during combat. That had been enough, barely, when Buffy’s ‘true love’ was still hanging around in the background. He was gone now.

And sooner or later, there would come another one of those evenings and Buffy would be shining with battle-sweat and moonlight. Faith would have to go to her, wouldn’t be able to resist the urge to bend to lick the salt from Buffy’s skin and feel the slick ecstatic tremors of smooth muscle under her fingers.

And then Buffy would turn towards her, and Faith would watch her last hope die in sky-blue eyes.

*It's a, it's a, it's a, it's a sin*

She had so many choices here, all wrapped up around Buffy. Kiss her, kill her, steal her life.. einy miney moe. So many choices, but there was only one she could take. Only one that’d let her see Buffy every day for the rest of her life. Faith ground her palms against the rough floor with bruising force as she pushed herself to her feet.

Time to meet her new Mother.