Disclaimer: The characters of Buffy Summers, Willow Rosenberg, Xander Harris, Rupert Giles, Angel, Faith and Richard Wilkins III do not belong to me. They are the property of Joss Whedon, Mutant Enemy, and Fox. They are used here without permission, but no profit is being made from this. Likewise the song "Ophelia" and its lyrics are not mine. They are written and performed by Natalie Merchant and appear on her recording of the same title. No copyright infringement is intended.

This story is part of the Shadows & Light Universe. If you wish to archive this story, please contact me for permission. Please do not distribute this without my permission.

Ophelia was a bride of God
A novice Carmelite,
In sister cells, the cloister bells,
tolled on her wedding night

Crouching in the shadows provided by the trees on UC Sunnydale's campus, she watched Buffy patrol. She watched as the blonde Vampire Slayer paused in mid-stride, listening to the sounds of the night. No doubt her 'Slayer sense' as Buffy called it, was tingling, alerting her to the fact that she was not alone, that she was being watched. Buffy, clad in a short leather jacket, UC Sunnydale t-shirt and jeans, turned in a slow circle her blue eyes darting this way and that as she scanned the trees and the dark path. Still, her watcher did not move. She knew that it was not her presence that had alerted the Slayer, but rather a more supernatural one – the presence of a vampire.

"Okay, this is so lame. I'm tired, I'm cold and I still haven't finished my Lit paper, all right? Let's get the show on the road. Come out, I'll reduce you to a pile of dust and then go home happy." Buffy gave an impatient tap of her foot against the gravel. "Now."

Ophelia was the rebel girl,
a blue-stockinged suffragette
Who remedied society between her cigarettes
And Ophelia was the sweetheart to a nation overnight
Curvaceous thighs, vivacious eyes
Love was at first sight,
Love was at first sight, love

The stupid vampire actually listened. It came charging clumsily from the shelter of the trees, growling some nonsense about "killing the Slayer." If the figure crouched in the dark hadn't seen this behavior so often it might have surprised her. But vampires tended to be stupid, conceited creatures who thought that undead equated invincible. No matter how many of their associates met a dusty death on the end of the Slayer's stake.

This one proved no different from the rest. Buffy was good; even her watcher admitted that much. She was damn good and pretty damn dangerous – at least to vampires and demons and other baddies. When it came to humans, her heart was soft and her softness was her weakness. But then again, didn't they all have weaknesses? Wasn't that why she was crouched in the dark like some stalker instead of standing besides the blonde girl? The dark was her friend now, as much as the light belonged to Buffy Summers.

The vampire got in two good punches before Buffy took control. In a matter of minutes, the fight was over and as the dust of the vampire descended to settle on the ground, Buffy stretched out her hand in front of her. She frowned delicately as she eyed her nails, painted a bright electric blue.

"Great, I broke another one." Slipping her stake back up the sleeve of her jacket, she pivoted. Bright, but somewhat bored blue eyes searched the shadows again, landing finally on the spot where the silent watcher hid. Her eyes narrowed, and for a moment, the watcher thought she had been discovered, but then the eyes moved on and so did Buffy.

That's when she knew it was time.

Ophelia was a demi-goddess
In pre-war Babylon
so statuesque, a silhouette
in black, satin evening gown

She stepped lightly out from between the trees, shaking leaves from her hair. She didn't even flinch when the other young woman whirled, stake raised and her body going instinctively into a defensive crouch. Shoving her hands into the pockets of her worn leather jacket, she gave a curt nod. "Hiya B. You dusted him real nice. Never stood a chance."

"Faith," Buffy's eyes lit with recognition and a hint of wariness. The staking arm was lowered, but the tension did not leave her. "We heard you were released from the hospital, but then you had just disappeared. We thought – you were gone."

Faith kicked at the gravel, trying to ignore the pang that simply standing face-to-face with Buffy Summers was causing her. "Thought or hoped?"

Buffy only paused a moment before answering. "Maybe both."

"Yeah, well, the way I see it B, it would have been kind of stupid for me to wait around for the Watcher's Council to come claim me. I'm not exactly the favorite child, if you catch my meaning." Faith paused, glancing up and down the dark path as she collected her thoughts. "Didn't want to end up on the other end of that toothpick of yours either."

Ophelia was the mistress to a Vegas gambling man
Signora Ophelia Maraschina
mafia courtesan

"You won't. If I wanted to kill you –" Buffy paused, her face and eyes shadowing. Yet another difference between the two of them. Buffy's emotions showed on her face and shone from her eyes; Faith wasn't all that certain that she could feel anything at all anymore.

No that wasn't necessarily true. She felt pain, she felt hurt, she felt loneliness. Most of all she felt a keen sense of hopelessness, knowing that she her own choices and bad decisions had brought her to this point in time.

She had only wanted to be the center – to be loved the way Buffy was loved. She wanted to be a part of it all, a part of something bigger and not be on the outside looking in. Faith had been looking in most of her life and at first, when she came to Sunnydale and met Buffy, she thought all that would change. It hadn't. Buffy was light and she was shadow; emotions that she would never and could never admit to ate her up inside.

It was almost too late when she realized the only person she was hurting was herself.

Ophelia was the circus queen, the female cannonball
projected through five flaming hoops
to wild and shocked applause
to wild and shocked applause
hey, he-he-he-he-hey,

"Been there, done that," Faith shrugged with an indifference that she was not feeling. "Don't worry, B, it's cool. I mean, I kind I let your honey have it –"

"Faith, don't," Buffy shook her head, cutting into Faith's words. "Don't go there. It's all water under the bridge right?"

Faith stared at the blonde Slayer and felt an unfamiliar constricting in her chest. Was it really that easy for her? Say a few words and Buffy would just forgive her? It was never that easy – and it shouldn't ever be. "Just like that? I try to kill you and your honey and all your friends, and you just want to forget about it?"

"I'm not forgetting. But I'm not dwelling. I have to go on. We both do. I'm not saying I forgive you, Faith but – you helped in your own way. We defeated the mayor –"

"Yeah, I heard that Graduation Day was a real show. I kinda wish I coulda been there. 'Course I probably would have been on the side with the vamps and all but it woulda been a good show, you know? Kind of fun to get all dirty and bloody again. Slayer to Slayer—"

"Stop it!" Buffy practically screamed loud enough to wake the dead. But hell, it was Sunnydale, she probably did wake the dead. "What is wrong with you? You did a good thing in the end, Faith. You did the right thing and –"

"And it doesn't change anything." Faith sighed heavily and stepped forward. Buffy stepped back warily, and Faith felt the stab of pain in her soul again. No matter what Buffy said, one dream did not change anything. She couldn't erase the past or forget it. Nor could Buffy or any of her Slayerettes. "You just don't get it, do you, B? I'm not like you, I never will be like you. And it will never be the same. It's all gone, B, it's over. Got it?"

"It doesn't have to be. We wanted to help you –"

"You wanted to help me. The little witch probably wants to see me six feet under – and Xander too by now."

"So, why'd you come here then? What is this about? A last chance to provoke me so we can fight it out to the last Slayer is standing? Is that it?"

"No," Faith felt the fire and fight leave her as she heard Buffy's question and saw the pain in her former friend's eyes. She couldn't hold that blue-eyed gaze and her last words were whispered into her chest. "I came to say good-bye. I'm leaving Sunnydale."

Ophelia was a tempest, cyclone, a god-damned hurricane
your common sense, your best defense lay wasted and in vain
for Ophelia'd know your every woe and every pain you'd ever have
She'd sympathize and dry your eyes
Help you to forget
and help you to forget
and help you to forget

For a long moment, Buffy said nothing. She was silent and so still for so long that Faith finally had to lift her head to see if the other young woman still shared the path with her.

"Where will you go?" Buffy finally asked when Faith met her eyes again.

"Wherever. Big world out there with a lot of vamps."

"Maybe it's for the best. I don't think you'd be happy in Sunnydale anymore."

You mean you don't think that Sunnydale will be happy with me here, Faith thought but didn't say the words aloud. "Yeah, I mean you got that whole college thing going on and I was never too good with the books."

"Take care of yourself, Faith?"

"Hey, taking care of me is what I do best." Then, with nothing left to say, Faith turned and headed the opposite direction down the path. Her vision was blurred and her eyes were warm and it took her sometime to realize that the wetness on her face were her tears streaking down her cheeks.

She was crying. For the first time in years, she was crying.

Pulling wet fingertips away from her cheeks, Faith eyed the moisture there and managed a choked laugh.

She was crying.

Maybe it was the beginning of healing.

At least, it was a start.

Ophelia's mind went wandering
You'd wonder where she'd gone
to secret doors down corridors
she'd wander them alone
all alone

~ End ~