"Faith, your face. What happened?" He asks, as if he didn't know. I just shrug, mumble the explanation of a rough patrol, and head for my half of the house. He lives below ground. I live on the second floor. The offices and kitchen are on the main floor. I don't know how he got it. I know I don't want to. Fuck this, fuck all of it. Prison was bad, but at least there I had a chance. I could win. I can't win here. I can't win against her. She controls everything I am. And the only reason I stay here, the only reason I allow myself to dwell in Angel's home, is because I know he's the only other person on this planet who knows what it's like to be addicted to her. To have her live in your every though. To have her scent cling to every thing you own. Not because you haven't washed it a billion fucking times, but because it doesn't wash out ... she doesn't.

"Angel said I should come check on you ... shit!" Cordelia rushes to my side. It's strange, she understands. She knows. She's rather vocal about knowing. When Angel took me in he and she were already ... what ever the hell they are. It pissed B off. But both of them shrugged it off. B had Beef Stick. I give her the same excuse I gave Angel. "Fai... a vamp did that to you?" She glares at me, it's odd having a best friend. I'm still trying to get used to it. Every time I fall she's there to pick my sorry ass up off the ground though. Now I know why Red gets so pissy about me. I despise any of Delia's old friends, whenever they stop by, look down their noses at me. I nearly hit that chick Blue, or whatever the hell her name was. " ... you know that right? And I'm telling you right now Fai, if you keep letting her hit you, I'm gonna tell Angel." I zoned back in, just in time to hear the last bit.

"I told you Delia. Vamp. I fight them, threaten to stake them ... usually do in the end. It's not that bad. So a few get in a lucky hit or two." I take the wash cloth with peroxide on it, back from her. Cleaning the cuts on my arms. Cuts to small to be claw marks, to deep to be human. Fuck. Delia sees them and raises that one eye brow. "D. I'm fine. Really. I think I'm a big girl and I can handle myself." I assure her, lining my voice with sarcasm, before adding a teas to my words. "Beside ... unlike you, I can go to the bathroom all by myself!" I nod with mock pride, and D falls into the counter laughing. That makes me smile and I hide the wince I feel as my bruised and swollen skin sings in pain.

"I know. I just don't want you getting hurt." Delia's tone lowers, we know Angel's listening at the bottom step. Then there's a knock at the door. She's here, I can feel her. My heart races, and before Angel has the door open I'm by the bannister, with D, pulling me back, so I don't rush down and forgive her right on the spot. "I know what you went through ... you told me. Fai, have you thought to tell Buffy?" I cringe when the name tumbles from her lips with malice lacing it. I shake my head.

"Where's Faith?" Her voice is still hard, not as hard as it was when I got my shiner, but hard. "No, I don't know how she got it. I heard she took a hard hit and came to check on her. I was patrolling else where. Angel, do I look like I have time or patients to fuck around with you?" She's so angry. Angry at him, at me, at Delia. She's mad at the world. I remember that feeling, sent me right over the edge ... five years in prison. If I didn't have Wilkin's probley would have been life. "Why don't you and *your* girlfriend run along and do something, while me and mine deal. OK?" With that she had by passed him and was taking the stairs two at a time. Delia was beside me, when Buffy hit the landing. Trading dirty looks they waited for someone to make the first move.

"Delia ... can I get you to come help me? Spike was with her..." Angel sounds exasperated, but he's not. He's glad for the reason to get D out of B's path. To save her the wrath of our tiny slayer. He also loves having Spike around. I usually do too, Spike is like a big brother to me. I have to avoid him whenever the marks are visible, unless I can pass them off as part of a kinky game, like the time she used one of Beef Sticks belts. He left, no one knows where, just took off, left his shit in B's apartment, and took off. That was just after we came back. She blames me and Angel for that too.

"Room." The word is bearly spoken, and she brushes by me. Obediently I fallow. The room is soundproofed. Every room is. I shudder visibly as she slams the door, and locks it, then slides the deadbolt in. She installed it. The door is heavy and solid. Sound proof. No human could get through it. This way Angel can't get in without at least ten minutes warning. He's never tried, but one day he just might. Not that he says anything about the marks. No one does. Except Spike, who I have completely wrapped around my little finger, he honestly believes I make B, blissfully happy. He doesn't know how much I need her. How much I hunger for the soft touches between the hard blows. The only thing that can mark a slayer for more then a night, is another slay. Me... I learned that the hard way.

I was so caught up in my own thoughts I took a second to realize, her tiny hand had my chin, looking at the eye. The swollen blue and black poof. She runs the tip of a finger across it gently, but with enough pressure to make me wince and hiss. I jerked but she held tight. "B, tha..." I saw her compassion begin to shift and I hurried to correct my mistake. "I'm sorry. About earlier, ya know... I just, I forget some times." I swallow the small lump in my throat. My pride I think, at least what left of it. "I'm sorry, OK?" I need her to forgive me. I need her to forgive me for pissing her off, again. For making her so angry she hit me. Hit me a lot. I need her to forgive me for making her so made she hit me and cracked two ribs and gave me a black eye. I need her to forgive me for turning on her. For all the times I hit her. For hitting Red. For hurting Xander. For hurting her. I need it. This all this shit, it's cleansing. She does it, because deep down I need it. She does too.

"Why can't you just do what you're sposed to Faith?" Her grip on my chin has tightened. I want to warn her about leaving visible busies, but last time, I ended up wearing long sleeves and pants in hundred degree weather. I'm not sure if it was worth it. I go to apologize again, and he smacks me. She didn't even have that look. The one that tells me to brace my self. I feel blood trickle into my mouth. "You can't keep your mouth shut." I'm still unsure what set her off tonight. I didn't dance. I was wearing jeans and a shirt she'd given me for my birthday. Oddly enough it was black and blue with tie-dyed hearts in matching colors. Not too much make up, hadn't spoken to any one not with in her inner circle. "What were you and Tara talking about?" Buffy glared down at me, somehow I'd made it to my knees. Yet another sore point. That's what I'd done. Tara. Buffy didn't like her either. Tara stole Willow. B's best friend. Willow lives with Tara now, has for years. They are so happy it make you nauseous to be near them. But Tara with no Willow and no Buffy around, means pain. For me. Willow doesn't like that we get along either. Bet Tara doesn't get a black eye for it. I almost smile at the idea of Willow hitting any one. Especially her Tara. I'm back handed to the floor, and before I know it, B's covering my mouth.

We're in 69 position, but my jeans are locked tight and I have a feeling they'll stay that way. I lick and suck, just the way she likes. Her fingers dig into my knees as she cums hard. Something about beating the crap out of me turns her on. Like killing vamps always has for me. I guess every one has a kink. Standing on shaky legs, she gets up and strips crawling into my bed. Smiling she just lays there in all her naked glory. I take my cloths off. But put boxers and a T-shirt on. If any one did try to come in. And I was naked, she'd kick my ass. Besides she likes to take my cloths off. I move onto the bed. Pulling her body close, I curl around her, keeping her safe. She's mine now. I won in the end. I get to do this at night. I get to hold her hand. I get to kiss her. I get to taste her, and she calls out my name when she cums. She's mine. I won. The tears in my eyes never fall and when she turns to look at me, she has a smile on her face, cupping me her fingers teasing. I'm still soaking from earlier.

"B..." I gasp, when did my breathing shorten? Shaking her head, she sighs.

"Again, you just can't shut your fucking mouth Faith." She growling as the sentence finishes and with all her strength she's gripping and pushing, not tearing it. And it hurts, and I push against it, afraid it's all I'll get. Afraid she'll take it away. And she does. Her favorite toy buzzes to life, and I groan. I move to the end of the bed, and she starts fucking herself. It drives me crazy to watch this. To want to be the one to make her make those sounds, to make her arch off the bed. When she says my name I'm there, licking sucking, biting, taking the vibrator from her fingers and fucking her with it. Her legs for a death grip around my head. She's bucking and, even buried here in my own personal heaven all I can feel is how much my face hurts, the bruises. The black eye. I hurt worse, from her death grip on my pussy. I'll be bruised there too. Something inside me hurts worse then all the outside injuries. Something is throbbing in pain. Tears fall down my face, mingling with her taste. And I create something new for myself to feast upon.

She cums a second time and I crawl back to the head of the bed, curling around her tiny body. Small shutters wrack her body as I turn off the toy and remove it, putting it back in the bed side table drawer. "I love you, B." I whisper, as she curls into me, making herself smaller. She never answers me. Some times I get a physical response. Tonight she bites down on my nipple, hard as she can, without drawing blood. Tears fall again, landing on my pillow. I hold her and cry silently. She has always been able to make me cry. But I can't find the anger to fight the tears I once had. Because when all is said and done, I don't deserve her or the life I have. I don't deserve any of it.