Jailbirds - Destinies Crossed

Title: Jailbirds - Destinies Crossed

Author: bwp bard

Summary: A young journalist, Samantha "Sam" McPherson gets an assignment in a LA Women's Prison

Author's Notes: A crossover between Popular and Buffy/Angel. I'm not that familiar with the Popular/Angel canon, so this must be considered an alternate universe story.

Disclaimers: I don’t own the main characters in this story, but some of the minor ones are mine.

Pairing: It starts out as a Sam/Brooke pairing but I can’t promise it will continue that way, at least not for awhile. I’m not quite sure of the ending yet. Maybe you can help me with that if you like the story!

Rating: It’s not quite a PWP, but almost. No heavy and complicated plots, but some angst, some violence, some romance and probably some sex, too. Let’s say it’s NC-17, to be on the safe side.

WARNING: I've been told that my English is not as poor as I seem to think, so I'll just skip the warning and hope for the best!

And as always, feedback in any form is very, very welcome!

Sam McPherson was dead tired. Tired of herself, tired of her life and tired of everybody and everything in it. Her life was not at all as she wanted it, how it was supposed to be.

At 24 she worked freelance for several newspapers and magazines, but the topics she had to write about was not what she had dreamed of when she became a journalist. She was young and female, and every editor believed that gossip and fashion was JUST right for her.

She had written stories about celebrities and fashion alternating with fashion ON celebrities so long that she wanted to puke.

Last time she complained, her boss at the freelance-bureau laughed and told her not to worry wrinkles on her pretty face.

"You're young," he said mockingly. "These things takes time, you won't win a Pulitzer for another year or so."

And her love life? No Pulitzer there either. Her relationship with Brooke had gone downhill the past year. They fought all the time, like they did before they became lovers. And their family's continued lack of acceptance of the relationship, took its toll on them both.

Being stepsisters and lovers wasn't the most easygoing combination. And especially their parents had a hard time with the fact.

The only one embracing their relationship was Mac, the babysister, who loved both her sisters with a fierce protectiveness uncommon for a girl at such a young age. She was not even ten yet, had Brooke's cheerleader looks and Sam's wit and flair for rebellion and taking sides for the weakest.

And in their combined family the relationship between her two sisters was certainly both taboo and considered the weakest link in the family-chain.

Brooke had been very distant lately. Like now. Sitting opposite each other eating breakfast, but with no communication whatsoever.

Brooke's blue eyes had a faraway look, like she wasn't even in the room.

"Brooke, are you doing anything tonight?"

"Hmmm?"

"Are you going out tonight?"

"Hmmm."

"Are you eating fish. raw. with maggots on the top?"

"Hmmm."

"So we're going to fuck like rabbits, then?"

"Hmmm. What?!"

Sam sighed in defeat. "Nothing."

Brooke stared at her for a moment and then disappeared back into her thoughts.

They had been together for nearly 7 years now and the newness and the joyful excitement had vanished. The passion gradually thinned out and became non-existent. And especially after Brooke began seeing a psychiatrist once a week, she had pulled the plug entirely.

Maybe she was bored stiff? Found their lovemaking lacking somehow. They were young and had spent most of their youth together. Maybe Brooke wanted her freedom back, a chance to be young and independent?

Sam closed her eyes against the pain. Maybe Brooke had found someone else? Her heart constricted painfully in the chest. Maybe it was a matter of time before she left. for good this time?

But why didn't she say anything about if? If she wanted out or if there was something wrong about their relationship, she should talk about it shouldn't she, instead of wandering around in silence? A silence that was killing Sam slowly, but surely.

So why don't YOU speak, then, when she obviously won't? Easy enough, she was afraid to hear the answers to her questions.

She got up from table, kissed Brooke on the cheek, and left without further noise.

Just a few years back she wouldn't have gotten out or the apartment that easy. There would have been severe kissing and heavy fondling, whenever they faced a full day of separation.

Today Brooke didn't even acknowledge her goodbye kiss.

'I'm NOT going to cry. I'm not going to cry. I'm not going to.'

*******************

Jack had a job for her. She opened the door to his office and found him talking to a tall brunette. He introduced her as Lilah Morgan from Wolfram and Hart, who was going to be their legal backup on the story.

"What story?"

Jack smiled. "You're going to prison, my dear."

"What?!"

"Inside the prison we're taking about, is a very special prisoner, with some very special abilities. You have to go in there, find out why she killed all those people in such a tender age and why she has those...abilities. And find out why she's been associated with very strange events. You can read about it all in here." He handed her several reports. "And when you find the stories, you write about them."

Sam was stunned. "You want me to enter a prison as a...prisoner and befriend this. killer?" She couldn't believe what she was hearing. There was a long way from Celebrity gossip and catwalks to a worn down state prison.

For the first time Lilah Morgan spoke: "Yes, you have to get close to her, you are almost the same age. As her friend you can find out how her routines are, what her dreams and hopes are. Does she have friends on the inside and how about her connections on the outside?"

Jack nodded. "You must provide us with information. I decide which stories are interesting enough to follow up on and you write the stories that could win fucking prices, Sam. Think about it!"

It sure sounded like an opportunity she could kick her career further with. A whole series from inside a prison, article after article with her name on.

"How long do you want me in there?"

"As long as it takes." Lilah Morgan said.

Her boss nodded again. "If the stories keep coming you can stay as long as you want or until the well is dried out."

"I have to talk to my partner first."

"I want your answer in the morning," Jack said. "It gives us time to find someone else, if you won't do it. The prison has given us deadline later this week, so we have to move fast."

"All right." Sam shook hands with the lawyer, Lilah Morgan, still not sure about her role in all this, and left the office.

'I'm going to jail..'

"Are you raving mad?!" Brooke shouted in her face. "Have you really thought this through or have you dumped your brain somewhere as usual? You certainly don't use it, when it comes to even considering stupid stunts like this."

Sam looked at her hands, trying to cover the hurt Brooke's words inflicted."This is a career opportunity that can get me inside real journalism, Brooke, it gives me a chance to become the journalist I always have dreamt about being, not just doing gossip-columns and stories about what skinny women wear this year."

Brooke's eyes grew cold and Sam flinched. Brooke was still very sensitive when weight was brought up. Years ago she suffered from anorexia and some part of her still had problems with the way her body looked.

It was hard for Sam to understand those feelings. Brooke was, and had always been, very beautiful in that All-American way many models were, but after they became lovers she discovered the deep lack of self-confidence that controlled every inch of Brooke's life, and the self-hatred that followed in its footsteps.

"Do as you please." Brooke said coldly. "You always do."

"What?" Sam said angrily. "What do you mean by that?"

Brooke sighed. "Nothing."

"Nothing? It didn't sound like nothing to me. Do you feel I'm going solo on too many things, is that it?"

"I don't want to discuss this, Sam."

"You never want to discuss anything these days, not regarding us, anyway."

"Sam." Brooke got up from the chair. "There's nothing to discuss."

"Apparently not." Sam mumbled.

"There are not much of an US these days, are there Sam?" And with these words Brooke left the room, leaving a teary-eyed Sam behind.

'I don't understand any of this." Sam shivered and caught a treacherous tear with trembling fingers.

She phoned Jack and told him she was ready.

*******************

Brooke had gone to bed hours ago. The house was dark and quiet, just like she preferred it when she was working on something, nothing to disturb her concentration.

Sam was reading the files about the prisoner that Jack gave her. They were almost the same age and they even looked a little like each other, but the prisoner's dark hair was curlier than hers, her smile cockier and her brown eyes were hard like coal.

She was described as a reckless sociopath who had killed without thought or remorse until that day when she walked into a police station and made a full confession. Nobody knew why she did that and she refused to talk about it.

She had very few visitors and nobody knew anything about her family or her background, and she refused to talk about it. They didn't even know her last name.

There had to be a lot of stories buried in that woman's head and Sam was the one who had a chance of digging them out. Awesome thought!

Oh, and living among imprisoned criminals for days maybe even weeks was just a minor detail, wasn't it? What could be better? Living with freed ones?

She chuckled and looked at the pictures of her new roommate again. Quite beautiful really, in a 'I'm a tough shit who can break you fucking neck without blinking'- kinda way.

Okay, time for bed. Tomorrow was going to be hectic and strange and she needed all the sleep she could get. Be prepared for everything, expect everything, her boss had said, and she knew he was right.

Brooke was sleeping peacefully and Sam crept down beside her, careful not to wake her.

Not so long ago they always slept tangled up in each other, never apart for long during the night, always touching, relishing the feel of being close to a loved one.

Those were the days.

Now they slept with a gulf between them, often back to back and rarely ever touching.

Sam sighed and with a longing look at Brooke's lean back, she tugged herself in and turned around, facing the wall.

A few hours later she woke, feeling a warm presence against her back. A hand caressed her stomach, another her chest. She was in Brooke's arms.

"Sam?"

The hand on her stomach dipped down and briefly touched the rough hair on her sex.

"Yes." Her breath grew ragged.

Lips nipped her shoulders, tongue tasted the sensitive spot behind her ear.

Knowing fingers found every arousing spot on her body, until they settled between her legs, playing around in the wetness, driving her mad.

When fingers finally found the little erect spot, dying to be touched, she almost screamed.

It swelled with blood and need, and every thought, every feeling that wasn't connected with Brooke's actions vaporized.

Her nipples ached and Brooke seemed to know that, and gave her what she needed.

The orgasm swept over her like a hot whirling wind and she gasped helplessly for air. It had been so long. Brooke's fingers stopped moving and she felt a soft kiss on the back of her neck.

"Brooke." She wanted to turn around, she wanted to devour her lover, wanted, no NEEDED to taste. to touch.

But Brooke stopped her.

"No, Sam. I just want to feel you like this. Can you do that for me?"

Sam nodded and snuggled closer.

"I may not be here when you come back."

"Oh." Sam's heart stopped and pain closed around it like an iron fist.

"I think I'll go visit Dad and Jane." Her voice trailed off. ".and Mac."

"Will you be back?" Sam asked tentatively.

"I don't know."

"Oh." The iron fist took hold of her heart again. and squeezed.

A moment ago Brooke made love to her. and now this. It was almost too much to comprehend.

She wanted to scream, to beg, do anything to understand what was going on, but she didn't dare ask WHY, afraid of the answer.

She cried herself to sleep while Brooke held her, maybe for the last time.

The next morning Brooke was gone.

"Faith, Mrs. Pickett wants to see you."

Mrs. Pickett is some sort of a liaison officer, like the ones the army has. She deals with problems between the prisoners and management or staff and she takes an interest in our daily lives and tries to make our stay in prison as productive as it could get under the circumstances. She is a firm believer in education and for years she had tried to make me one too. Needless to say she didn't succeed. I didn't need a damn education to rot in this fucking hellhole.

But Mrs. Pickett is one of the good guys. A bit idealistic and naive for her own good but what the fuck. everybody has flaws.

I couldn't figure out what she wanted to talk to me about. I far as I knew I hadn't done anything that could interest her and as far as I knew, no complaints had been made against me. But of course I could be wrong.

"Hey Fay!" A blonde head with sparkling green eyes peaked out from behind the door to our cell.

Strawberry is the only one in here I even considered calling a friend.

"Are you leaving me after our first night of passion?" She pouted and made the saddest face she could muster.

"Miss Piggy wants me, Straw, how can you compete with that?"

The guard snorted angrily at me and Strawberry giggled and her cute face seemed even younger than her actual years. Her equally innocent and flirtatious way of dealing with life was one of the things I liked most about her.

Mrs. Pickett gave me a friendly smile and asked the guard to leave us alone. The guard glared at me, silently telling me to behave. Nobody trusts me in here. I think they have read something very nasty about me in my file and the guards never leave me alone with any of the civilian employees.

Miss Piggy doesn't look her nickname. She's around forty, small in stature with flaming red hair and piercing gray eyes. Quite beautiful actually and quite a nice body, too.

"Sit down, Faith." She said with her husky voice. I raised an eyebrow at her, but did what I was told. Normally a visit to Mrs. Pickett's office didn't require a prisoner to sit down. We always stood when spoken to.

She told me about this new prisoner who was to share cell with Strawberry and me.

Our new mate was an "innocent" caught up in some bad stuff that ended with murder. She was not a hardened criminal and Mrs. Pickett wanted me to look after her.

I some ways her story reminded me of Straw's.

Strawberry's lover had once been the most feared gangleader in LA. Love, that treacherous bitch, changed her and she wanted out.

And with Strawberry's help she somehow managed to do just that. But for years they lived in hiding, until one day a rivaling gang caught up. They wanted her head and the reputation it would give them.

Strawberry watched them split her lover into tiny pieces. She fought them, tried to save her lovers life, but she wasn't a fighter and could stop what was happening. She had been a mere college student from a secure middleclass home when she met the love of her life and she left everything to follow the half-crazed outlaw. She had never fought anyone other than her younger sister.

And for love she became a killer. She picked up a gun lying at the feet of one of the men her lover had neutralized and started shooting.

But she was too late. Her lover was already dead and she went to prison for her deed.

"Faith." Mrs. Pickett's voice penetrated my thoughts. "Meet Sam."

"Hi." The newcomer said shyly. "Nice to meet you."

Oh God, another innocent. Strawberry had been like a wide-eyed kid when I first met her, even the years as the lover of a former gangleader hadn't changed her personality that much. And this one looked at me exactly the same way: Curious, unsure, friendly and a little intimidated.

"What am I?" I muttered. "A fucking babysitter?"

"Did you say anything, Faith?" Mrs. Pickett asked.

The hurt look in the newcomer's eyes told me that SHE had heard my words.

This was just fucking great. Just what I needed; another hypersensitive cellmate.

********************

"She's a pussycat, Sam." Strawberry assured our new cellmate. "She HAS claws but she rarely uses them."

I rolled my eyes at her and growled. She just laughed and even Sam looked amused.

It's really difficult to intimidate and scare people off when they don't take your threats seriously. Strawberry was used to "warrior-types" as she put it and she saw me as someone similar to her dead lover. Tough and cold on the outside, mushy and warm on the inside.

I knew she was wrong but I couldn't convince her otherwise. And I liked her too much to actually hurt her, so. I let her believe what she wanted to. Even if it ruined my reputation.

At first Sam didn't talk much, but her eyes were constantly moving, observing, gauging. Something about her made me a little bit uneasy. And she really was an innocent. I could see that the more brutal and abusive interaction between some of the other prisoners shocked her. She wasn't used to or comfortable with violence and crude talk.

I kept an eye on her like I promised, but I didn't try to make conversation. I don't like people getting close to me; the risk is too high. Nobody in here knows who I am. They know I have killed, that's all. They don't know how strong I am, that I'm some sort of 'superhuman" that killed vampires and demons on a daily basis, and I want to keep it like that way.

I don't want them to know that one of the few people that visit me in this hellhole is a vampire with a soul.

I try to stay out of fights and when it's impossible I hold back. But I have fought enough to make a reputation for myself and it keeps the bullies from messing with me most of the time. They know I'm not an easy target and hunts among the weaker prisoners.

"Faith? Hallooo.." Strawberry grinned. "Where the hell were you?"

"Out."

"Take me with you next time, will you? I would love to see the world again."

The humor in her words didn't override the sadness in her eyes.

"She's nice isn't she?"

"Who?" Sometimes following Strawberry's jumpy thoughts could be quite a task.

She rolled her eyes mock exasperation. "The blood queen of Britain, who else? Sam, stupid! Sam is quite nice isn't she?"

And yeah she was. And I didn't like that thought at all.

"Read my lips!" Cordelia's face was dangerously red, anger and frustration had finally made her snap. "I DON'T know what these visions are trying to tell me, WHAT part of THAT sentence don't you UNDERSTAND, Wesley!!"

The man in question winced and wished, not for the first, and probably not for the last, time this week, that Angel was here and not on some mission in Sunnydale.

He coughed slightly. "Let's recapitulate the facts."

"Recapituwhatever that means." Cordelia sneered.

Wesley wisely ignored her and spoke directly to the others in the room."We know it has something to do with Faith."

"But Faith is still in prison, right?" Gunn asked. He knew how weary his friends became every time the rogue slayer was mentioned.

Wesley nodded. "She out of circulation, so to speak, and she has never even been on an guarded outing as far as we know."

"But she could get out if she wanted?"

"Yes. Nothing can keep a slayer from doing what she wants. People or prison-bars couldn't stop her. " Wesley sighed. "What else do we know?"

"Not much." Cordelia laughed humorlessly. "Unless you count a brunette who looks a bit like Faith and a blonde I'm sure I have seen somewhere before. oh and you can count the fact the something is very, very wrong, I just don't know WHAT! Did I mention that the visions are not quite clear on that part?"

Cordelia's visions were often unclear but these last ones were more blurry and unreadable than they normally were. Nothing tangible to go further with and it frustrated the hell out of her.

"We have to talk to Faith." Wesley concluded. "Maybe she knows something."

"Will she be willing to help us out?" Fred asked, trying the block out the feeling of dread in her stomach.

Wesley shrugged. "Angel says she has changed. He visits her now and then."

Cordelia snorted and rolled her eyes. Angel had a weak spot for 'bad girls on a redemption-trips' and Faith had been the postergirl for that particular girl-group. And as the years had gone by, it looked like the reformed slayer was for real. But Cordelia's was still, for many very substantiated reasons, a reluctant believer.

"We have to try, she has to know about this anyway. She could be in danger." Wesley closed his eyes for a moment, gathering strength for the next expected tantrum. "Okay, Cordelia?"

"What?!!"

"We have to go and talk to her, Cordy."

"We?" Both Cordelia's brows were raised in exaggerated horror. "As in you and me?" She laughed acidly. "In your nightmares, brit-boy!"

"Cordy."

"Don't Cordy me, Wes. You know how things are between Faith and me."

"You loved her once."

Fred flinched and Cordelia paled. "Once, Wes, and it was years ago."

"I'm sure Fred wouldn't mind."

"This has nothing to do with Fred!"

They stared at each other for a long time, battling silently like they had done so many times over the years.

The others in the room patiently watched, knowing that it had to be done and that two of them would reach an agreement sooner or later. Hopefully without any bloodshed.

"For the greater good." Cordelia muttered. "Always for that damned 'greater good'."

Wesley smiled. Relieved. One never quite knew with Cordelia, but even though she often put up a hell of a fight, she always ended up doing the right thing.

"There's another thing." Cordelia hesitated.

"Yes?"

"There is something else, I don't know if it's related or anything, but I keep dreaming of Tara."

"Tara? Who's Tara?" Fred wasn't sure she knew anyone with that name. She tried to keep track of everyone that had been connected to Angel Investigations over the years, but it got more and more difficult as the years and clients went by.

"Easy now, Fred. You haven't met Tara." Cordelia smiled affectionately at her. "Don't panic."

"Tara? Willows old girlfriend. The witch? She has been dead for years, hasn't she?" Wesley asked nervously.

"I know, I see dead people." Cordelia's words dripped of venom, not quite ready to loosen up on Wesley. "She keeps coming to me, like she's trying to tell me something, and I don't understand her EITHER. What is it with me and visions these days?"

"Honey." Fred took Cordelia's hand. "Sometimes it takes time, you know that."

"Sometimes we DON'T have any time!"

"Maybe we should call Angel back? And talk to Willow, too?".

"No, Wes." Cordelia shook her head. "Not yet, anyway. Angel has a lot on his plate right now. And Willow? I don't want to upset her. She never quite recovered from Tara's death and I don't want to stir anything up if it's not necessary."

Willow's life had been in ruins since Tara died and she went mad with grief and tried to end the world.

She and Buffy still lived in the Summers house, but neither of them had been capable of productive relationships with potential lovers, and over the years they became like and old married couple, loving the other deeply and depending totally on each other.

In Cordelia's opinion a perfect match, even without the sex. That last part was, to her amazement, the only thing they refused to share. And somehow she knew that there was something wrong with the picture. This wasn't the destiny her friends were meant for. Somehow, somewhere it all got twisted and turned in the wrong direction. Maybe Tara was trying to tell her something that could fix it?

If only she understood what..

"Let's take one problem at the time, shall we?" Gunn said impatiently.

"Faith." Fred said and looked at her lover.

Cordelia closed her eyes. "Faith."

"Faith's new fuck-toy."

Sam's heart began to beat heavily in her chest. She knew this was going to happen. Not, of course, being called Faith's fuck-toy, but the confrontation with Baby.

Baby considered herself the queen of the prison and she looked like a pedophile's wet dream, complete with blond Barbie-hair, red lotita-lips and big, blue baby-eyes. And a cleavage like a sex-bomb.

In some way she reminded Sam of a psychopathic mixture of Nicole Julian and Mary Cherry, Brooke's old friends from school.

And, according to Strawberry, Baby and her subjects always 'welcomed' new inmates in several imaginative ways. Sam shuddered. This was probably not going to be nice.

"We're going to have some fun with this little number, ain't we girls?"

They were standing way, way, WAY to close to her. Fingers touched her hair, hands groped her torso.

"Hey guys, are you out of your minds?"

Sam recognized Strawberry's melodic voice and sighed in relief.

"Keep your fucking nose out of this, Straw. It's none of your fucking business."

"I know, but." Strawberry hesitated.

"But what?"

"I kinda like you, Shaz, so I thought I should warn you, but hey, you're right, it's probably none of my business anyway."

Shaz, or Baby as the other inmates called her, lifted her hand and her goons stopped what they were doing.

"What do you mean? Warn me?"

"Oh, it's not important, really. I know you can defend yourself. You're tough woman, right? Nothing is going to happen. I'm just being silly."

"What can happen?" Baby's face was one big question mark.

"It's just that I heard Faith say that she wants to break the new in herself. It probably means nothing. So go ahead, do. what it is you're doing." Strawberry shrugged and was about to walk away when Baby stopped her.

"You means she's REALLY Faiths new fucktoy?" The intruding immediately hands left Sam's body. "You got competition, Straw?"

"Faith gets what Faith wants. I certainly can't stop her." Strawberry's eyes turned teary.

Baby and her goons left without harming Sam any further.

"Thank you." Sam said gratefully. "Thank you so very, very much."

"It's okay." Strawberry smiled innocently. "If only I could save you from Faith."

"What?!"

"Kidding, I'm only kidding!" Strawberry giggled and rolled her eyes. "You're too easy, Sam, you got to toughen up."

And Sam knew she was right. If she wanted a minimum chance at surviving in here and get anything remotely interesting out of Faith, she couldn't act like a frightened child with no clue whatsoever.

Getting to know Faith was difficult enough in itself. Strawberry was the only one she talked to with any regularity and most of the time she ignored Sam. She wasn't even close to an interesting story yet.

What would Brooke think of all this? Easy, she would have hated it.

The thought of Brooke made Sam's heart constrict. In a letter she had asked Brooke to come visit, but somehow she knew Brooke wouldn't come.

Brooke had closed the door on her and when she did that, it was almost impossible to break it down. She wasn't even sure she was allowed to try anymore.

After their first night as lovers, she had to bang at that door fiercely and relentlessly, before Brooke even peeked out and opened herself for hurt and rejection.

*******************

At that time they had stopped the meaningless arguments and childish fighting about nothing. They weren't exactly friends, but managed to act like reluctant stepsisters most of the time.

Though, sometimes they crossed some sort of line between them and told each other things that they didn't even tell their best friends or the boyfriend of the month.

When that happened they quickly relapsed into the old days and Brooke became snippy and cold, Sam sarcastic and offensive.

So things were never easy between them.

The fact that neither of them understood what was going on between them wasn't helpful either.

Brooke had dated Harrison, Sam's oldest childhood friend, for awhile and it didn't smoothen the relationship between the two stepsisters much.

Sam stopped dating. When Harrison mother came out and told everybody that she was a lesbian, the revelation stirred something up inside Sam.

Some repressed and very unwelcome feelings surfaced and demanded that she took them seriously.

And some of these feelings centered on Brooke and that was SO not appropriate and WAY to dangerous to even think about.

So she kept her distance. Used sarcasm, like she always did, to protect herself.

And Brooke did was she always did when she was hurt, she closed the door between them, closed herself off from Sam's sharp wit.

So they grew even further apart than they had been before they became stepsisters.

One night they were home alone. Sam was cooking and Brooke watched some show on TV.

They hadn't said one word to each other the whole day and both of them desperately wanted to get out of the house, away from each other.

But as coincidences often are, none of their respective friends were available that evening, so they were stuck with each other. Unless they chose roam the streets alone or go to the library or something, but it hadn't come to that. Yet.

"Brooke, there's food on the table."

"Hmmm.."

"Brooke!"

Sam seethed with repressed anger. This was SO typical! Brooke always took her for granted. She had cooked a meal, cleaned the living room and washed their clothes like some. like some. like some damn maid or. or wife. At least she could acknowledge her effort to.

Sam stopped herself. Now she even SOUNDED like a damn wife!

"Are you okay?" Brooke stood in the doorway with mussed hair and sleepy eyes. "I think I almost fell asleep." She padded across the floor to the stove. "Hmmm, it smells delicious."

"What?! Oh. Thank you. It's only. I. it's only stir-fried chicken and vegetables. With green curry."

They ate in a pleasant silence. It hadn't been like that between them in months and Sam found herself enjoying the meal and enjoying watching the blonde across the table.

Brooke looked up from her plate and smiled. A beautiful smile that ripped pieces off Sam's heart. She almost felt it bleed.

This wasn't good. This was a catastrophe.

'I can't. I WON'T be in love with her. Anyone else but her. This is just too much. too.'

"Are you sure you're okay?"

Brooke touched her hand and her whole body shivered and went rigid. 'No..'

"Sam?" Brooke's voice sounded alarmed. "Are you sick?"

'Yes.'

"No, I'm fine."

"You don't look fine, Sam. You're pale and you're shaking. Are you fevered?"

"Don't touch me!" Sam almost to her feet, away from the concerned hand.

Brooke recoiled like she had been hit. Her eyes were wide and questioning.

"Do you really hate me that much, Sam?" She asked softly. "I know things haven't been well between us and I know you try to keep your distance, but." She choked back a sob. "I know you resent me, resent me being here. but I can't." A tear escaped. "I can't leave, you know that, right? I'm not trying to. I'll keep away from you, if it makes you feel. You're acting like a stranger in your own home and I'm to blame for you feeling that way, aren't I? And I can't do anything about it."

The rambled words fell out of Brooke's mouth like they had their own will. She had no control over them and Sam knew it was a long time of hurting that spoke her.

She cried openly now and she embraced herself tightly and cried with her head bowed, tears dripping on her chest.

Sam didn't know what to do. And then she did the only thing she COULD do. She placed her trembling arms around Brooke and pulled her close. At first Brooke was stiff and resisting but when Sam didn't let go, she relaxed and snuggled into the embrace.

Sam held her tightly until the tears subsided. Brooke's face was pressed into her neck and Sam's libido stirred dangerously when hot breath touched the rapidly increasing pulse under her skin.

Brooke sensed that something had changed.

"Sam?" She mumbled against soft skin, lips barely touching, but enough for a small sample of taste. of .

The first kiss fired a bolt of heat through both of them. Sam's heart raced as she realized that it was Brooke who initiated the kiss.

It was the most wonderful feeling..

The kiss deepened and tongues danced and played, searching and tasting. Gasping for breath they pulled apart and stared wonderingly into each other's eyes, and then dived back in. Neither of them wanted those wonderful feelings to end.

And they didn't. And Sam had thought they never would. Now she wasn't so sure anymore.

"Faith, are you sure you don't want any visitors?" Mrs. Pickett sounded worried.

I nodded. Seeing Angel was okay, but a visit from both Wesley AND Cordelia was not on my list of things to do or rather people I would love to talk to.

A visit from them could only mean trouble. They wanted something from me. I haven't seen or talked to either of them since my imprisonment and I couldn't see any reason to change that. If they wanted something they could write. In here I wouldn't be able to do anything to help them with whatever it was, anyway.

Angel kept me posted on what happened in their lives. Wesley is married now. Kids. A boy and a girl.

Cordelia. Still together with Fred. Their coming together had been quite dramatic, Fred being Gunn's girlfriend and all that. It had almost wrecked Angel Investigation beyond repair.

But then Gunn gracefully bowed out of the mess, knowing a lost fight when he saw one, and along the way he accepted the relationship between his former girlfriend and Cordelia, and now, according to Angel, everything was going great between all of them.

Cordelia and Fred had lived together for years and there was talk about children. Angel made them sound so happy.

"Is something bothering you, Faith? I know you got a real good handle on that stoic part, but you're more quiet these days than I have ever seen you before."

"I'm just horny, Mrs. Pickett." I grinned viciously. "Going to help me with that?"

And then I saw something I never thought I would. The calm, cool and collected Mrs. Pickett blushed and began stammering.

"Faith, that's. that's not. It's not. You shouldn't."

Hmmm, maybe I hit a nail right on the head without even knowing it. I fought off the urge to smirk.

"D'Angelo, take Faith back to her cell."

The guard looked strangely at Mrs. Pickett, clearly sensing that something had happened between her and me.

I waggled my brows at her before I followed D'Angelo back to the cells.

That was fun.

*******************

Sam was alone in the cell.

"Where's Straw?"

"Playing pool, I think."

I nodded and got comfortable on the bunk. I could feel Sam's eyes on me.

It had to stop, even before it began.

"You had some trouble with Baby?" I heard myself ask. Not quite the approach I was looking for, but. Okay, this needed some work.

"Baby?"

"Shaz. Straw refuses to call a grown woman that isn't her lover Baby."

Sam smiled. "She's really great."

"Baby?" She had a beautiful smile and I found myself wanting to keep it on her face a little bit longer.

THIS was SO not the way to get her to stay away from me! I really had to work around that.

"No, Shaz!" She laughed and I couldn't help but smile with her. "Strawberry is really nice, though. I don't know how I would have managed these first days without her."

"Stick to her. She's good at keeping people out of trouble."

"And you?" She flushed and her eyes turned shy. "I mean, does she keep YOU out of trouble?"

I learned over the space between our bunks and whispered softly: " No one can keep me out of trouble." I was almost at a kissing distance now. "I like trouble." I purred. "I am trouble."

Maybe it was panic I saw in her eyes, maybe it something quite different, but either way she knew that it could be dangerous, in more ways than one, to get too close to me.

Friendly chats weren't on my agenda and I wanted her to keep a distance and keep her from getting to familiar with me.

And that message had to be cemented.

"Sorry." She pulled away from me and stared at her hands. "I didn't."

"Faith's new fucktoy, isn't it what they call you now?"

She paled and nodded.

"They will respect my ownership to a certain degree. Don't fuck my reputation up, Sammygirl. Regardless of what Straw may have told you, I'm not a saintly protector of fucking innocents and I'm not coming to your rescue every fucking time some lowlife want your pussy, got that?"

She nodded again, brown eyes huge and scared. I had to remind myself that this had to be done.

"The fucktoy title is yours as long as you don't screw it up. So, keep your snout out of trouble and leave me alone. Understand?"

"Faith, behave yourself!"

Oh no. Strawberry had somehow managed to get past my slayer-senses and into the cell. I wondered how much she had heard.

"Don't listen to her, Sam. She's all hot air and cool facade, and she thinks she have to scare everybody off." Her green eyes flashed at me, a look I had learned to fear. "You're so much like Nic sometimes that it kills me!"

I never told her that I actually knew her lover in my early youth. Once again I was on the run from my father and she picked me up on the highway. For some reason she agreed to take me with her and I think it was one of the best summers of my life. Before I was called. and everything got seriously screwed up.

Strawberry was still yelling at me.

Sam looked like she didn't know if she should be amused or frightened by it all. Actually the whole situation was quite funny, when you thought about it. Even if it meant that all my effort to scare her off, all my well-prepared intimidation bullshit was slowly disappearing down the drain.

Strawberry had a disarming way of effectively killing my bad girl-image.

Here I was, the slayer, a dangerous killer, being berated be a snip of a woman, a mere girl really, who might have killed, but wasn't a killer, and still had a warm and innocent heart.

She did this because she cared, I knew that. She wanted me to be part of the prison community, she wanted me to make friends and somehow redeem myself from the past. Wanted me to let go of hatred and guilt. She wanted me to follow the same path as her beloved Nic.

And sometimes I really pissed her off.

So I did the best thing I could think of, I left the cell to let her sizzle there until she cooled down.

She always did.

Cordelia knew she was dreaming.

It was not a vision but it was nothing like an ordinary dream either.

She was in a rural area that looked like. yeah, it looked like the dusty homes of the poor white trash in a hillbilly song. The houses along the narrow road of dirt, were either small scruffy holes on the ground or small scruffy holes on wheels.

This was really a place for nightmares.

This was clearly not LA and certainly not Sunnydale, where her dreams normally took her.

There were no people in sight. The set of the sun indicated that it was very early in the morning and the inhabitants were probably still asleep.

Who wanted to wake up here, anyway? She certainly wouldn't if she had the choice.

A noise, a soft hum from far away, drew her attention to the road at the edge of the town. A car? No a bike.

As it came closer she saw that it had two riders, both without helmets. The one in front had short, dark hair and a large frame. The one in the back had longer and wavier hair in a lighter tone of dark. A woman. Or rather a girl.

When they parked the bike and got off, Cordelia saw that the tall one was a girl, too. Or rather a young woman. A very impressive young woman. A tall, muscular body clad in black leather, a chiseled face with high cheekbones and a strong chin and the most amazing blue eyes hidden behind sunglasses.

The younger and smaller one had sad dark eyes in a rounded baby-face full of bruises. She seemed familiar somehow. She was the one who spoke first.

"Nicci, what the fuck are this place? A human dumping ground?"

That voice sounded familiar, younger but still the same.

Faith.

Oh God. Faith. A very young Faith, younger than she was when she first came to Sunnydale.

"My aunt lives here, F, she can take you in for awhile."

"Here? You must be fucking nuts!"

"You would be safe. He wouldn't look for you here. Or the police for that matter. Most people don't even know this place exists."

"No..no..no." Even at such a young age, Faith was stubborn and headstrong. "You're going to take me to a big city, you hear me, Nicci. I won't stay in this rathole. Do you hear me?"

"Loud and clear, F. " The woman laughed and ruffled Faith's hair affectionately. "I think the whole town would have heard, that is if they
were out of bed."

'Don't let them drive away, Cordelia. Please! You have to stop them. Please..'

The voice came out of nowhere and the desperation felt almost palpable against her skin. She recognized it immediately and knew that somehow this was important. Very, very important. And once again she didn't understand the meaning of it all, and what she was supposed to do about it.

"You got to tell me more! I don't understand what you want me to do. Is it too much to ask for a little elaboration from you? I may be a seer but I don't see EVERYTHING."

'Don't let them leave, please.'

"I got that part, thank you very much! Now tell me what I can do?" This was really starting to piss her off. When people invaded other people's dreams they should at least have the courtesy to be clear in their messages and NOT drive the dreamer insane!

"Cordelia."

No, someone tried to wake her up.

"Honey."

The dream began fading. The dirty little town became pale and transparent. Faith and the stranger named Nicci were slowly disappearing, their voices already gone.

"Come on, Cordelia. Wesley wants to talk to you."

Damn, she was awake. The dream was definitively gone and she stared into the lovely eyes of Fred. Under normal circumstances a sight for sore eyes, but now she just wanted to get back to the dirty town in her dream, decipher the meaning of the words, of a young Faith being there. And most of all she wanted to find out what she was supposed to do.

She sighed. "I'm awake. Is the world ending. again?"

Fred laughed and kissed her softly on the lips. "No, I don't think so, but Wesley says it's urgent."

"When isn't it urgent?" Cordelia kissed her lover a bit more firmly this time.

Fred slapped her hands. "And that has to wait, we have to hurry, you know."

"What if I say it's urgent?" Cordelia batted her eyelashes in that seductive way that usually drove Fred into instant arousal.

Fred groaned. "Please, you can't do this to me."

"I think I can." Cordelia pulled Fred's smaller body down on hers. "I think I just did."

****************

"So you want us to fake our way in to see Faith?"

"We have to talk to her, Cordy." Wesley said. "We have to find out what she knows, if anything, and we have to warn her, so she can prepare herself for whatever it is."

"I haven't seen her since her elbow attached itself to my face, Wes, and I swore that I never wanted to see her again."

She and Faith had been lovers for a short time back in Sunnydale. After her disastrous relationship with Xander and before Faith openly changed sides and became the Major's lackey.

It was a hectic and highly sexual affaire that lasted several months and the sex had been beyond comparison, beyond comprehension.

Before Fred sex had been a pale imitation of what went on between her and Faith. And even with Fred, whom she loved like she never loved anyone before, she never felt that raw, all consuming, earth shattering lechery that Faith forced out of her.

And some part of her was afraid of seeing Faith again. Afraid that those feelings was still present in some dark, hidden place deep inside her and that the possible reintroduction or even worse, a revival of those feelings, would somehow sully the pure life altering love she felt for Fred.

She had slept with a lot of men in her life and even loved some of them. And only three women. Three very significant women, who changed the way she perceived herself, Faith being the first, Fred the last.

And she wanted Fred to be the definitive one. The one she wanted to offer totally commitment and ask it in return, the one she wanted to have children with, to grow old with.

She couldn't effort Faith in her life. Faith stirred up a whole rotten can of. passions, of lust. that she couldn't deal with. Not anymore.

But she knew Wesley had a point. They had to see Faith and she should be there. She knew Faith better than Wesley did and she was the only who could answer any questions there might be about the vague visions.

She sighed in defeat. "What do you suggest we do, Wes?"

Sam stared at the phone, frustrated and confused. Jack hadn't been interested in any of her ideas for articles. He hadn't shown any interest in the information she had gathered on Faith. Okay, it wasn't much, but he offered no encouraging words about her effort so far or no ideas on what to look for next. Nothing. His parting words had been: Get closer to her. He gave her nothing more.

She was slowly regretting her thoughtless yes to this assignment. She was no longer sure that it would lead her to "real journalism", maybe it was just a mistake. A fatal mistake, that put her in a dangerous place and kept her from fighting for her relationship with Brooke.

Her boss wanted something very specific from Faith, that was obvious now, but she had no idea what it was and why he hadn't told her the real reason for her being here. She no longer bought the "just find some interesting stories in there" anymore. This was about something very specific, a sensation of some sort.

Secrecy when it came to stories of a certain importance wasn't new. There was always freewheelers out there stealing scoops away, and this story had to be a scoop with all the effort the bureau had put into it, but it was a new phenomenon that even the reporter writing the story, didn't have a clue whatsoever! And it was HER ass, literally speaking, that was in the danger zone. This wasn't exactly the place for a cozy picnic, looking for innocent little stories to bring safely home to sweet Uncle Jack.

She had time for another phone call and with a throbbing heart in her throat she called her parents.

It was her mom who answered the phone. It didn't take her long to realize that her mother didn't know about her voluntary imprisonment. And furthermore she realized that her mom and Mike hadn't heard from Brooke. In weeks.

She tried to reassure them that nothing was wrong, that Brooke had been very busy and that she hadn't been home much because of a heavy workload and she even promised to make Brooke call them as soon as possible. Why didn't she tell them the truth? That Brooke had left her and that they finally got the separation they had dreamed about and wished for.

And the she talked to Mac for couple of very emotional minutes. It was an almost inhuman struggle not to cry openly into her sister's ears.

When she was back in her cell she just let go. Cried her desperation out, cried in fear of a lost love, in jealousy when she thought about the possibility of Brooke being with someone else at this very moment, and she cried for the failure her whole damn life had turned out to be.

Suddenly she felt a warm, comforting hand on her shoulder and without thinking she threw herself into the arms of the owner, craving another persons touch to drive the loneliness and despair away.

Startled the arms tried to retreat, but then relaxed and closed more firmly around her shaking body.

**************

When she woke she was in the arms of Faith.

Terrified she tried to loosen the firm embrace she was in, but with a groan of displeasure with her attempted escape Faith tightened her hold and she was back where she started.

This is SO not good!

Okay, he SAID get closer to her, but what this really what he was thinking about? It hadn't been what SHE was thinking.

Oh God.

A strong hand began stroking her stomach. Dipping so low that it almost touched her vulva.

Oh no.

Wetness pooled between her legs. Nipples tightened.

This is NOT good!

A strangled sound drew Sam's attention back from her frantic musing and she met Strawberry's green eyes, large with disbelieve.

Sam quickly moved away from Faith's warm body, sensing that the other woman was waking up.

"It isn't what it looks like." She whispered to Strawberry. "I cried and she comforted me, nothing else happened."

"What's going on?" Faith voice was hoarse from sleep.

"Nothing." Strawberry closed her eyes and visibly called herself to order. "It's none of my business anyway."

"We fell a sleep." Sam said nervously.

"How long?" Faith yawned and stretched her lithe, muscular frame.

"An hour or so." Sam wanted to run, but there was nowhere to run to.

Strawberry looked like she was about to puke.

Faith was the only one oblivious to the tension in the cell.

'I don't want to loose the only friend I got in here.' Sam silently pleaded. She wanted to assure Strawberry that nothing happened between her and Faith, but she wasn't sure Strawberry would listen.

Faith got up from the bunk. "I'm going to take a leak." She bounced over the floor, seemingly unaware of four eyes following her longingly.

When Faith was gone, Strawberry sighed heavily and took Sam's trembling hand. "It's okay, Sam. It really isn't any of my business."

"But nothing happened. I cried and she."

"It doesn't matter. I have no claim on her." Her eyes watered and pain radiated from them. "She likes me, that's all. We're friends."

"But."

"But nothing, Sam. Let's forget about this, okay? Come on, let's get out of here before she comes back. Maybe we can play some pool or something."

Sam nodded, relieved that her friendship with the other prisoner was still intact.

But the reminiscence of Faith's warm body snuggling up against hers and an arousing hand on her stomach, haunted her for the rest of the day.

"You know my sister in law, right?" Wesley asked uncomfortably.

One Cordelia's eyebrow arched with irritation. "The shrink? Yes, I know her...unfortunately.."

"Right." Wesley coughed. "We have used her as a consultant on a couple of cases over the years, so she knows the nature of our business."

"Yesss.?" Cordelia was slowly loosing her patience. "Are you giving me her curriculum vitae?"

"She phoned me this morning."

Cordelia stiffened.

"About a former patient." Wesley added quickly. "This patient, a woman in her twenties, had been acting very strange, just before she changed psychiatrist. Kim was concerned and checked up on her. She found out that her new therapist was a totally unknown woman, whose name wasn't on any official lists over practicing therapists. She went to the woman's office and saw. Lilah Morgan posing as this woman."

"Lilah Morgan? We haven't heard anything about her OR Wolfram and Hart for years. I thought they were out of business."

"So did I." Wesley began pacing the office floor. "Something is going on and my instincts tell me that this is connected to your visions somehow." He handed her at photo of a blond woman. "This is Kim's former patient."

Cordelia stared at the face. "I think it's her, the blond woman from my vision. A bit older now, but the same face, the same eyes."

Wesley gave her another photo. "This is her lover."

Cordelia's eyes widened. "Wow, I think we got a match."

"Now we just have to find out the why's, the how's and the where and when's." Wesley smiled for the first time. "The easy part."

Cordelia snorted.

"Anyway," Wesley stopped smiling. "Things don't add up. Wolfram and Hart haven't been active for years."

"And they would have known about the connection between us and Kim. They would know that Kim is your sister in law." Cordelia added thoughtfully. "They wouldn't have chosen someone so close to us, someone who had a chance of recognizing Lilah Morgan."

"Unless they want us to find out."

"Or unless Lilah Morgan are going solo on this one and didn't know about the link between us and her victim." Cordelia looked at the photos of the two young women. "Unlikely coincidences happen. We of all people should know that, and sometimes they happen for a reason."

****************

That night Fred made love to her with a desperation that made Cordelia wonder how deeply concerned about her forthcoming meeting with Faith she really was.

Fred refused to talk about it, called it a silly and childish thing that she would deal with by herself. But Fred had cried during her unusual quiet and intense orgasm.

They kept on making love like it was the last time they had the chance. She told Fred again and again that she loved her and only her. That nothing except dead would ever separate them and Cordelia wasn't planning on dying anytime soon.

They were in for a very long and happy life together. Cordelia believed that with all her heart and Fred should too.

And when Cordelia fell into an exhausted sleep, she fell right into the scenario of her latest dream.

Somehow she knew that the time period wasn't the same. This was a few years before she saw Faith and the tall women drive into this godforsaken town.

And this time it was midday. The town was as lively as it could be. Cordelia guessed that employment were low in this area. Men were drinking beer outside their houses and seemed to have nothing important to do except passing time.

The women were the only ones moving around. Some of them were busy doing domestic work, other's shopped in the only supermarket in sight.

A girl with blonde hair around 7 or 8 years old were running down the street towards a small brick house with a meticulous kept garden in front.

She looked awfully scared for such a young girl.

By instinct Cordelia followed her.

A nervous woman came out of the brick house and greeted the girl with a hug. "Where have you been, Sweetheart? I was worried sick."

The woman was a darker blonde than the girl was, but the warm blue eyes were the same. She reminded Cordelia of an older version of..

Oh God..

"Daddy will be home soon, you know he hates it when you are running around like that. He will be angry if he finds out."

The girl nodded eagerly. "I'm sorry, mom. I won't do it again."

"Yes you will, Sweetheart, yes you will." She smiled lovingly at the child and ruffled her hair. "Just promise me to be careful."

The girl nodded again and smiled back at what had to be her mother. They looked so much like each other. An older and a younger version of the same face, the same eyes.

"Come on, I have made lunch for you and your brother."

Cordelia followed them inside the house.

A couple of minutes later a thin man with malicious lines around his mouth entered the kitchen, on his heels bounced a boy, maybe a couple of years older than the girl.

The man grabbed the girl and looked at her with cold, accusing eyes. "You were at that old crone's house again, weren't you?" He shook her harshly. "Answer me!"

"N..no.. I..I.."

"Don't bother to deny it. Your brother saw you. Haven't I told you to stay away from her?"

The girl flinched and a very palpable fear radiated from her and hit Cordelia right in the gut. The beautiful blue eyes were huge with anxiety.

Cordelia knew the sign's when she saw them. In those haunted blue eyes she saw a child living in a hateful and abusive environment, full of violence and fear, a child without a sense of peace and security.

"What did I tell you, girl?" The father shouted, spit bathed her frightened face.

"I...I s...should s...s...stay away from h...her."

"And did you do that, girl?"

"N...no, d...daddy."

Without hesitation the father sneered and backhanded his daughter viciously. She tumbled across the room, and her mother ran to her aid with a anguished cry.

Her brother smirked with satisfaction.

'Get Faith.'

Oh no. Not another cryptic message.

'Faith.'

"I get that! Faith the woman or faith the. faith.?" Cordelia winced. This might not be the time be funny.

'Faith.'

"I'll take a guess, Faith the woman, right?"

'Get Faith."

"Yeah, Faith my a."

"Cordelia!"

Somebody shook her right out of the dream. Fred's unhappy eyes stared down at her.

"Why are you calling out for Faith?" A tiny and hurt voice asked.

Oh shit.

"Faith, Mrs. Pickett wants to see you." D'Angelo yelled. Her booming voice almost scared the crap out of me.

D'Angelo is a very, and I mean VERY, large black woman. She never smiles and she can be very threatening sometimes, but I kinda like her. Always fair, always treating everybody the same and never treats the inmates like her own personal punching bag like some of the others do. By prison standard, she's one of the good guys.

Except I think she has a thing for Mrs. Pickett. And I think that keeps her from liking me too much. She hates that Mrs. Pickett calls me to her office all the time.

And I kind of understand that, too.

I wonder if there is a Mr. Pickett?

"Hallo, Faith." Mrs. Pickett greeted me with a smile. "Sit down. And you can leave us alone, D'Angelo."

D'Angelo growled and showed more teeth than a wolf in heat.

I just smiled at her. Sweetly. And winked, while letting the tip of my tongue caress my lips. I think I have seen that move in a porn flick
somewhere.

And she obviously got the message, leaving the office with fume around her mouth.

I grinned, satisfied with myself. I still had it. I could still piss people off like in the good old days.

"Faith." Mrs. Pickett drew my attention back to her. "Someone have requested to see you."

"I told you I don't want to see them."

"It's not. this is not a private request, Faith. The government is doing some research on prison welfare and."

"No."

"Faith, please. They specifically asked for you. You were one of the youngest people in this state to get a maximum sentence."

"No."

"It will look good on your record."

"No."

"Please, Faith, for me."

Hmmm, that I could work with. I smiled at her. "For you?"

And again I made her blush. I'm good... or rather... I'm bad.

"I'll tell them it's okay, then." She hesitated. "Faith. You have to stop this. flirting."

"Am I flirting with you?" I raised an eyebrow, wriggling it at her.

"You make me very uncomfortable. It's very inappropriate of."

".of you to reciprocate, am I right?" I shoot her that shit-eating grin that I knew posh women like her find inappropriately sexy.

Man, I couldn't even remember how touching another human in a sexual manner felt like. I got enough offers in here to keep me satisfied for the rest of my fucking life, no pun intended, but somehow up until now I had controlled the urge.

Why? I don't know. Sex had always been easy for me, it was the stuff that came afterwards I considered the hard part.

With most men it was easy to keep distance, enjoy a good fuck and then bye, bye blackbird.

Women often demanded more. Expected to get a part of you delivered as a part of the process. For each orgasm you have to pay with a certain amount of intimacy and bonding.

And in here there's no where to hide, no where to run.

Cordelia came close. I almost gave her all those things without demand. Freely, free of charge.

People always thought it was Buffy. Everybody always thought everything had to do with Buffy.

I for my part thought she should have fucked Red, but as far as I know she never did. Even when Red jumped the fence and came clean with the shy but cute witch I treated so rudely in Buffy's body.

Maybe Buffy needed a sense of normalcy in her life, a normalcy being a slayer couldn't give her. So she denied the obvious and fled from the one thing, in this case a person, that could have made her happy.

Yeah, I flirted with her and sometimes she forgot to be a prude and flirted back, but there wasn't more to it than that. For either of us. With Cordelia it was different.

She was a bitch back then. Stuck-up, superficial and snobbish. Killed with her sharp tongue and mocking eyes. Protecting herself from everything and everybody that could hurt her, like she had been hurt all her life.

Back then I didn't see it that way. Back then she was someone to conquer. And I did just that. For awhile. But in hindsight I realized that she affected me more than I wanted to admit.

She came close.

Mrs. Pickett reached for the phone, wanted me at a safe distance back in the cell.

Or maybe just wanted me.

I was tired of the game, tired of being horny and too nuts to do something about it.

I stopped her hand on its way to phone and she looked up at me with eyes brimming with fear. and. desire.

Slowly I moved in to kiss her, giving her time to scream for help, push the red button, do anything to stop me.

But she didn't. She was about to meet me half way, when a knock on the door, swept the mood under the carpet.

She blinked and pulled her hand away. "Yes?" She asked hoarsely.

"The Boss wants to see you, Mrs. Pickett." D'Angelo opened the door.

I was so wet that I could have spread my legs and glided all the back way to the cell.

Damn.

If eyes could kill, D'Angelo's would certainly have done the job quite nicely.

*****************

Back in the cell I could have pleaded insanity. With the mood I was in I could have fucked a goat. Or at least a shepherd if there had been any available.

Sam sensed that something was up.

"Are you okay, Faith?" She reached out, like caring people like her always do.

"Don't touch me!" I was near some sort of breaking point and I didn't need soft hands on me.

"I'm sorry." She whispered and a sad look entered her expressive brown eyes.

Oh fuck. I reached out, crushed her to my body, felt her warmth, full breasts against mine, her intoxicating scent. Her breathing increased and I sensed her instant arousal.

Yeah, I still got it.

She gasped when I kissed her. And her knees weakened when my tongue penetrated her mouth.

Oh shit, it had been so long.

"Oh God. Faith." She halfheartedly tried free herself. "We can't." It was difficult to talk around my tongue. I sure know how to silence a girl.

She couldn't help respond. Her kisses became even more heated and hands started wandering. My body hummed in arousal and I wanted to rip her close off and fuck her senseless.

Once again her mouth escaped mine.

"Strawberry." She panted.

".is not here."

"She could come."

"YOU could come." I purred and got her underneath me on the bunk.

I raised myself up on one arm, sometimes you gotta love slayer-strength, pulled her T-shirt off and attached my lips to her nipple. She moaned raggedly and desperate tried to suck air into her heaving chest.

I had almost forgotten how damn wonderful a nipple taste. Fingers entwined in my hair and she pushed my face down, like she wanted me to swallow her up. I did the best I could.

There was no time and really no use for foreplay. We were both more than ready.

Somehow I got inside her pants and found her hot, wet center. She almost came before I even touched her clit.

And when I finally did, her whole body went rigid and I had to cover her scream with my mouth.

She surged and shook against my hand, wetting my palm and drenching my pumping fingers. I felt blunt nails on my back as she clutched for an anchor, something to ground her in the raving storm that raced through her blood. And for the first time in. in a very long time. I felt alive.

Minutes later I grabbed her hand and guided it forcefully in between my legs. I ached so damn much that I was ready to beg for it.

And I don't beg.

But I didn't have to worry.

She sure had my number. several times.

It wasn't pretty, but it was fucking incredible.

Wesley's wife was literally fuming with irritation and a fair share of anger. Her coward of a husband had wisely gone to his office to make some calls.

Josie Legaspi was an outspoken and gregarious blonde, beautiful like an all-American moviestar, with large blue eyes and a killer body. The birth of two children hadn't done any serious damage to its curves and planes, and the other mothers in her group envied her.
Some even whispered maliciously of plastic surgery, but Josie was for real.

How a gawky nerd like Wes had landed that catch was beyond Cordelia's apprehension.

"He promised me he would be home tonight. For gods sake, Kim and my parents are coming."

Cordelia stiffened slightly. "Kim?"

"And yesterday he spent the whole damn night on the phone, talking to God knows who, and he won't tell me what's going on. Isn't that typical?"

Wesley came out from his office. "Oh Cordelia, you are here. Come in, I have to talk to you." He saw his wife's expression and addressed her quickly and apologetic. "Honey, it won't take long. I promise. We just have to."

"Yeah, yeah, yeah." Josie rolled her eyes. "Go on, hurry up!"

In safety inside the office he relaxed. "She's not happy with me at the moment." He chuckled. "Not that I blame her. I haven't been home much lately."

"Me neither, but Fred knows the score, Josie doesn't." Cordelia smirked and praised the many wonderful aspects of loving Fred. "What did you want to talk about?"

Wesley visibly tensed. "Cordy." He began hesitantly. "Cordy."

"Wes. Wes. What are you trying to tell me?"

"You see, Cordy."

"Com on, Wes, we haven't got all day." Cordelia hissed. "Didn't you hear your lovely wife?"

"They bought the government research story, but they will only allow one person to visit Faith."

"What?!"

"They will only allow."

"Thank you, Wes, I got that!" Cordelia wanted to throttle the bastard, but chose to smile sweetly at him instead. And that made him much more uncomfortable.

She really liked that.

"And now I suppose you're going to tell me that I have to go in there alone, am I right, Wesley?"

He really didn't need to answer that. She already knew, but she wanted to watch him squirm like an eel in a net.

"Yes, Cordy. I'm sorry. It's best that way. If you really think it through you will come to the same conclusion."

"I would, would I?" She stared at him, seizing him up.

He swallowed hard and moved uncomfortably on the chair.

"When?"

"What?" He almost stopped breathing.

"When am I going to see her."

With great relieve he breathed out. Slowly, almost painfully.

"Oh, thank you, God!" The words slipped out before he could stop them.

Cordelia's eyebrow almost left her forehead and Wesley flushed.

"Sorry." He mumbled sheepishly.

They stared at each other for a long time. And they started laughing. Hysterically.

****************

"Angel's back." Fred's head poked out from the doorframe. "I have given him a quick update on the things we have been doing, and guess what?" She looked at them expectantly.

"What?!" Both Wesley and Cordelia uttered as out of one mouth.

"I know where the blonde girl from your visions are, Cordy." Angel pushed himself around the exited Fred and nodded amiable to his old friends.

"The cute girl from that shitty hole of a town?" Cordelia asked.

"What town?" Wesley asked confused. "There haven't been any towns, have there?"

"The blonde one from the photo." Angel clarified. "Brooke McQueen."

"Let me guess." Cordelia rolled her eyes. "She's in Sunnydale."

"How did you know that?" Fred asked. "Did you see it in a vision? When did you have that vision, I haven't seen."

"I didn't have a vision. It just seems like everything is somehow strangely connected in this case, so why not Brooke McQueen being in Sunnydale, too? It kind of fits the pattern."

"It looks like we're going to Sunnydale, then." Wesley said.

Angel shrugged. "It looks like I'll stay back and hold the fort, then. Where is Gunn?"

"At some girlfriend's house, I think. I'll give him a call." Fred left the office.

"She's not feeling well, this McQueen-girl. Seems a bit disturbed to me." Angel said. "She's some sort of friend of Dawns and Dawn is taking care of her."

Wesley nodded. "Maybe we should bring Kim. If this Brooke McQueen is having a breakdown she'll know how to handle it."

Cordelia didn't even twitch. She knew it was a reasonable idea, even if she didn't like it. Instead she asked: "How is everybody in Sunnydale?"

"We blew the big evil to hell, so to speak, but everything else is the same. Buffy is sad, Willow is sad and Dawn is in love with a really nice guy." Angel closed his eyes. "If it wasn't for her the Summers house would be a very sad place."

"Did you talk to this McQueen-woman?" Wesley asked, as always focusing on the case.

"No, not much, but I think she is heartbroken or something. There was a lot of talk about lost love and other inspiring topics. Dawn was being very supportive. And Willow, too, for that matter."

"What about Buffy?" Cordelia sensed that Angel was troubled about this.

"Buffy is. Buffy. Not easy to read."

"But you read her better than most?"

"Yeah." He hesitated. "She's depressed, nothing new there, but this time she's really closing herself off. Even from Willow. That can be really dangerous for her."

"You're worried?"

"Yeah. Talk to her when you get there, maybe you'll see a way."

Cordelia smiled sadly. "Buffy and I have never been friends, Angel."

"No, maybe not, but I think she need someone to talk to. Someone who knows a little about what she's going through."

"Angel, we have nothing in common, except that be both fight evil everyday and both have a cheerleader in our past."

"And you both have had a difficult time accepting love, in all its forms. You won, Buffy is loosing."

Stunned Cordelia stared at him. "What?"

"Think about it, Cordy." He kissed her cheek at left the office.

"What?" Cordelia looked accusingly at Wesley.

He held both hands protectively up in front up him. "It wasn't me. I didn't say anything."

"Grrrrr.!"

"Sam, wake up. Come on, Sam. Food-time. Sam!"

Sam reluctantly opened her eyes. And panicked.

"Straw?!"

"Easy now." Strawberry laughed. "I didn't mean to scare you. Faith told me to go and get you. Who would want to miss those incredible meals they serve here?"

Faith. Thank God, Faith wasn't in the bunk with her. Strawberry hadn't walked in on them while they were. were. fucking. They had. fucked. She and Faith had fucked. A matter of urgings, lusts and release. Fucking.

She felt her face flush as she realized that she was almost naked underneath the blanket. And everything reeked of sex.

God..

"Just. just give me a minute, Straw. I'll catch up with you."

Strawberry nodded and gave her a warm, reassuring smile. One of those wonderful smiles that was her cellmate's trademark. It transformed her cherubic face to that of an innocent girl much younger than her actual years. She was so damn adorable.

'God. I'm so, so sorry, Straw.."

This had to stop. Next time she was allowed to make phone calls she would tell Jack that she wanted out. That she wasn't capable of writing any stories in here.

She had lost her objectivity. She fucked the subject and that was a big NO-NO in her book.

'I'm sorry, Brooke.. Oh, God. I'm really good at messing things up, aren't I? Wherever you are, Brooke. Please be okay..'

"Halloo, Screamer, I should never have given up on you." Baby or Shaz or whatever she called herself stood in the doorway, grinning raunchily.

'Oh no. Oh, please no..'

"You heard.?"

"Everyfuckingbody heard, man, you ain't exactly discreet."

'No..no..no..'

"Hey, it was a damn good show and you even made that Saint I'm.so.fucking.nice.and.cute howl like a fucking crybaby, it sure as hell
made my day."

"Strawberry. heard?" Sam felt her heart drop to the stomach. "She was. crying.?"

"Yeah, man, I don't think she's used to sharing that nasty fucker with anyone.

Sam closed her eyes. This was SO not good. But Strawberry hadn't said anything earlier. She seemed her normal self. Was Baby winding her up?

"What do you want, Shaz? You didn't come here just to taunt me about this, did you?"

Baby shrugged disappointed. She had hoped to get a lot more fun out of the situation. "No, Mrs. Pickett asked me to tell you that you got a visitor tomorrow."

A part of Baby's job in the prison was acting as some sort of messenger for the guards, giving out instructions and things like that to the other prisoner. It was part of why she had so much status and power in the prison.

Sam would have thought that the others would consider her a nark, a snitch, being in the guard's pocket like that, but for some unknown reason they didn't.

"Do you know who it is?" She asked nervously.

Baby rolled her eyes. "Who the fuck do you think I am? Mrs. Pickett tells me shit. Just be ready."

'Maybe it was Brooke." Dread and anticipation fought to control the turmoil of feelings inside her.

***************

Sam went down to eat. Strawberry and Faith were already seated and Strawberry had kept a seat for her.

She wanted to cry.

And she now she saw the redness in Strawberry's eyes. The hurt. The weariness and strain in the cute face. But Strawberry had greeted her with a smile anyway.

Faith was cold as ever, ignored her completely and was hardly speaking at all unless directly spoken to.

Strawberry on the other hand chatted incessantly, obviously very uneasy about the whole situation. Not that Sam blamed her. She felt quite uneasy about it all herself.

Someone asked Strawberry about something and she launched herself into a story about Nic, her deceased lover, to empathize her opinion on the matter.

She was a real storyteller and was often asked to tell a tale or two when the nights got to long, and she was always good for a story that could illustrate something important she wanted people to understand.

It all went over Sam's head. She was too weary to understand any of it.

When Faith's name entered the story, the owner of the name and Sam both looked up. Their eyes met.

"She always compare you two." Sam whispered, in a vain hope that Faith would understand the depth of Strawberry's feelings and how close they had been to hurt her. Faith cared for Strawberry, so much was clear even if she didn't reciprocate the more intimate feelings.

"I'm nothing like her." Faith growled.

"How do you know that?"

Faith regarded her closely, her eyes tore at Sam's flesh. "Trust me, I know."

Heat traveled down from Sam's cheeks, through her gut and settled in her sex. Her pulse increased and sweat covered her skin.

Faith's eyebrow lifted, her nostrils flared and her eyes turned even darker.

Sam abruptly stood up. Startled by her sudden movement, Strawberry and the other inmates around the table went silent.

Faith smirked and leaned back, slowly undressing Sam with her eyes, caressing every sensitive spot, well aware of the effect she was having.

"I just have to." Sam mumbled. "Can I leave for the lavatory?" She asked one of the guards.

"It looks urgent." The guard grinned.

"It is." Sam nodded eagerly. "I think I'm a little bit. sick." Her pale face confirmed her lie.

"Okay, follow me." The guard wasn't in the mood to have vomits or other unpleasant things all over the floor, so he grabbed Sam by the arm and dragged her out of the room.

Strawberry followed the display with concern.

Faith grinned viciously.

When they finally were off the ground, Cordelia relaxed for the first time in hours. Fred leaned against her and took her hand.

"You really hate flying, don't you?"

"Hate is not a strong enough word for what I'm feeling." Cordelia muttered and squeezed her lover's hand. "But we didn't have time to drive, so here I am."

Cordelia was relieved that Wes and Kim sat two rows away and not right beside them. Sometimes luck came along unexpected and she praised the overbooked flight.

"It's not just the fear of flying, is it?" Fred asked softly.

"No."

"Are you going to tell me about her?"

Cordelia sighed. "I have promised to be honest about everything."

Fred smiled and kissed Cordelia's knuckles lovingly. "You don't have to tell me if you don't want to."

"I want."

And Cordelia told her about Kim.

She was in San Francisco visiting a friend. Laura had been one the few female friends she had made in LA and when Laura moved to live with her female lover, they stayed in touch.

On night they decided to go to a lesbian bar to dance. Despite being in a very happy relationship Laura had developed a crush on one of the owners and Cordelia was curious. Laura wasn't into crushes, she had pointed that out on numerous occasions, so Cordelia wanted to she this wonder of a woman herself.

Two British women, Helen and Nikki, owned this and several other gay bars in the Castro. And it was Nikki that Laura had a huge crush on. She assured Cordelia that there was a fair chance of both of them being there, because this bar was the one they managed themselves.

And they were. Nikki was tall, dark and handsome with gentle brown eyes and with a bad girl attitude that Cordelia found disturbingly charming. Her lover Helen was a lot shorter with light brown hair and quite attractive with full lips and flirty greenish eyes. Cordelia guessed that they were in their forties.

Rumors said that Nikki was a former convict and Helen her former Wing Governor and that they moved to San Francisco after Nikki's murder sentence was changed to manslaughter and she was released after spending 3 years in prison.

Somehow the four them got along quite well and they ended up talking most of the evening.

Cordelia found the two women intelligent and entertaining, both of them with sharp, dry wits that made her laugh more than she had in months. Their way of being British were very different from Wesley. and Giles.

And then Nikki introduced them to one of their friends.

"Kim?" Fred asked.

Cordelia nodded. "Kim."

And Kim had totally swept Cordelia off her feet. Older and more sophisticated, beautiful, intelligent and self-assured, Kim was everything Cordelia dreamt of becoming one day.

And she had the most fascinating blue eyes and a wonderful laugh that made Cordelia weak in the knees. And she was a flirt. Cordelia was smitten beyond anything she had experienced in years.

And this was a woman without a dark and dangerous edge. She was nothing like Faith.

When Kim asked her to dance she said yes. And they danced. And when the pumping beats changed to a slower and more intimate rhythm, they kept on dancing.

The blonde was so damn tall and it placed Cordelia uncomfortably close to a full set of breasts. But when she felt long fingers play with the hair in the nape of her neck, she couldn't resist a little nuzzling close to the temping objects of a desire she had thought died with Faith.

Kim's breath caught and Cordelia felt a little proud that she could have such an affect on woman like that. She collected courage from every corner of her being and lifted her face to meet sparkling blue eyes.

Their eyes locked, seeking, wanting, desiring and suddenly Kim's lips descended on hers. Fire expanded from the exploring tongue and thundered through her veins.

For a whole week they hardly left Kim's hotel room. They made love, fucked, had sex in all sorts of ways, positions and places.

And they talked. Shared things that they hadn't dared voicing before. Talked about loses and lost love. About spending a childhood in abuse. About being afraid to love.

And one morning Kim was gone without saying goodbye, not even a note to explain why. She was just gone.

And then she had finally known.

"Known what?" Fred asked curiously.

"That the thing with Faith hadn't been a passing thing, a mistake, 'a once in a lifetime for a confused teenager'-experience."

"You realized you could love another woman?"

"I realized that I WANTED another woman, that the next serious relationship I was going to have, would be with a woman." Cordelia glanced lovingly at Fred. "But between vampires, demons and green monsters I never thought it would be possible for me to have ANY kind of relationship beyond friendship. Fortunately I was wrong."

Fred smiled. "Very fortunately."

"You came along and saved my life." Cordelia whispered. "I love you."

Fred's eyes leaked and she mouthed 'I love you too' back to Cordelia.

And Cordelia had never expected to ever see Kim again.

And then destiny willed it that Wes met Kim's sister Josie and fell in love. At times the world seemed inconveniently small.

And now they were on their way to Sunnydale together.

How weird life sometimes turned out.