http://kittyjones.livejournal.com/ (![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png)
kittyjones.livejournal.com) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
tampered2007-07-14 06:07 pm
kittyjones.livejournal.com) wrote in tampered2007-07-14 06:07 pm
Log; Complete
When; June 30th, evening.
Rating; PG-13
Characters; Kitty (![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
kittyjones) & Faye (glock30)
Summary; Sometimes it's just better to cut your losses and run. Or punch them and run.
Log;
It wasn't a general habit of Kitty's to hang around in alleys. Well, that was a lie. It was a habit - or, at least in London it had been, when she'd been forced to keep off the main roads and away from the police to preserve her own well-being. Unlike most of the City, she found it safer for her here than it was back home. But she supposed she'd have to get used to alleys and late nights and danger once more if she was going to go back to her world, as was the plan. So now she was cutting down a long, dark passageway - partly because it was a quicker route to the bar, but also partly to get into the habit of it again.
She sighed. How the hell had Faye found out about her plan to return home? She'd wanted to tell her herself, face-to-face. Maybe then Faye wouldn't have been so... No, that was a lie too. She knew Faye would have reacted in exactly the same way, just possibly with a little more violence thrown in. Patience might be a virtue, but it wasn't one of hers. But fuck, Kitty didn't want it to happen like this. If she was going to go home to get herself killed, a little encouragement and a cheerful send-off beforehand would be more than welcome.
Wiping her brow she glared at the dull, muggy sky above - the curses were making the weather obscenely hot, which didn't help. What more could she do? Faye wasn't talking to her, and nothing but talking would help. So she continued walking forward, about to turn the sharp corner up ahead. She'd avoided getting spectacularly drunk for quite some time now, but perhaps it was time to return to the comfort of the bottom of the bottle, albeit briefly.
---
Faye wiped the sweat off of her forehead, trying to remember why vinyl had ever been a good choice in the first place. Her skin was sticking to her clothing as she made her way down familiar twists and turns, paths that her feet had followed more than once. She kept her eyes level—on the ground. The rough weight of her Glock was almost reassuring against her ribcage, and the thought of firing off a few rounds was soothing to say the least.
In all honesty she just needed something to explode. Faye had spent the last week or so on the edge of a cliff, and if something did blow her over and get that weightless feeling out of her stomach, then the thing exploding was likely to be her and she didn’t exactly like the end result of that. She knew it wasn’t entirely Kitty’s fault—Vash and Spike had both been on her mind enough in their own right, after all. Kitty just tended to add fuel to the already laboring fire.
Swallowing sharply, Faye turned a corner, bathed in quick, abrupt shadow. The heat was still stifling, and she yanked the knot on her sweater free from around her waist, mopping her forehead and pushing her bangs out of her face. She could barely breathe with the humidity, and she just wanted to get to the Underground where she could shoot and think, or only do one at a time so that—
Thud.
Jarred, Faye looked up, and then she looked up some more until all of Kitty’s face was composed in her immediate line of vision.
---
This was definitely one of those curses that could be called annoying. I mean, what kind of management ordered a heat-wave without thinking of an ice-cream truck? Poor planning, in Kitty's opinion. She'd left her customary leather jacket back at the flat, wearing just vest, trousers and boots now - although no breeze brushed past her bare arms. It occurred to her that she hadn't spent a summer in the City yet. She didn't have any clothes for warmer weather at all. She wondered if August would be—
No. Now was hardly the time to think about that. Now was the time to think of freezing cold alcohol, in a nice, cool, underground bar. It was so hot out here she wouldn't be surprised that if she were walking barefoot her feet would burn and sizzle on the concrete. The air was thick with stifling warmth, and she picked up the pace a little, beginning to wonder if this had been such a good idea in the first place.
The increase in speed only made the collision at the corner even harder.
Wham.
Losing her footing a little, she staggered back a step. Sudden movement combined with the heat did not make for a good combination, and she had to hastily press one hand against the wall to steady herself. Her head was spinning for a moment, and still she tried to focus on whoever it was she'd crashed into, her muscles tensing in case of a fight. But was that— It couldn't be—
--
Something contracted in Faye’s stomach—that same sinking feeling she’d had plenty of times before when she knew the resulting confrontation wasn’t going to go the way she wanted it. Jet held a handful of them. Spike had one. Now Kitty had one, too. Faye chalked it up to her destiny: all she could hope was that fate would start smiling kindly on her and get her away from these idiotic people and their stupid delusions of grandeur.
She rubbed her shoulder where it had collided sharply with Kitty’s sternum, her gun jostling against her as she righted herself. Kitty was giving her the oddest look, and Faye didn’t know what it was. She had no idea. That bubbling in her chest and stomach was back when she looked at Kitty, and Faye felt cornered, helpless, out of control. The heat was making her head woozy and her memory was watching and knowing things that she’d rather it didn’t.
There had been episodes playing in her brain all morning and afternoon and all she wanted to do was shoot something to get rid of them. But no. Kitty had to fuck that up, too. Well fuck Kitty. Fuck Kitty and fuck everyone who had ever walked away from her, too. She was sick and tired of dealing with them and their emotional hang ups and their emotional bullshit and just--GOD everyone had such a motherfucking problem! And—and—she pulled herself upright, tensing and just—
Faye’s fist collided soundly with Kitty’s face before she realized what she’d done, and the resulting sting and throb of her knuckles was almost as welcome as the ache that it alleviated. She pulled back, clenching her fist tighter, and hissed, “I told you to leave me the fuck alone.”
---
It was only a millisecond after Kitty had matched an identity to the figure that the figure in question - Faye Valentine for certain, she'd know that far-too-confident-semi-nude woman anywhere - threw a mean punch at her. Hard. And fast. Maybe on a normal day Kitty would have managed to dodge it, but in this heat, having just been bodily shoved back against a wall... not a chance. She was half-sure she heard something crack at the impact, and there'd certainly be a bruise blossoming there the next morning.
Swearing sharply (and colourfully) under her breath, Kitty found herself swaying back towards and subsequently clutching at the wall again, the stone hot beneath her palm. With the other hand she ran her fingers across her cheek, wincing. A brief touch to her nose felt a little blood from a minor nosebleed, but nothing serious. At least it wasn't broken. She gasped a little, wiping the worse of the initial bleed away with the back of her hand.
"What the fuck is your problem?!"
Kitty had no idea why Faye was acting like this. Really, she didn't. She could understand Faye being angry at the situation, and pissed off at her, but she'd thought... she'd hoped in the end her friend would come round, would help her. Rather than assault her in alleys, which was hardly a constructive approach to any issue.
---
“What the fuck is my problem?” Faye echoed, drawing herself up. With her spine straight and her shoulders back, she almost felt as tall as Kitty. With her knuckles throbbing and Kitty’s nose bleeding, she almost felt as small as Ein. Faye shook it off, literally, shaking her hand and shouldering past Jones. “I should’ve known your face would be as thick as your skull,” she threw over her shoulder, ripping her gun out of the holster.
She was livid. Faye hadn’t been this angry in over a year, and for good reason. She had this issue, this tiny little scab that, if she picked at it, started to burn and ache. Point blank, Faye didn’t like people leaving her. She would never admit it aloud and she would never, ever let anyone know it, but it was there. It was a real possibility, and the fact of the matter was that this was just another one of those little scabs. Kitty didn’t need to make any promises that she’d be back or that she’d come back alive. Faye had heard them all before.
This was why, Faye reminded herself, she didn’t trust people. When you trusted people, you let them get in, you let them too close. The resulting sting when they screwed you over in the end was hardly memorable, but that didn’t stop it from hurting like a bitch in the five minutes you allowed yourself to acknowledge it.
Well not this time. She was done with doing that ‘stay back like a good little army wife and wait’ routine. Faye was sick and tired and mad, and anything she could get her hands on was about to realize it.
So Faye clicked off her safety and stomped toward the belly of the alley, thinking that if she couldn’t make it to the Underground without running into someone that she would at least shoot a few cats. Since she couldn’t shoot the real thing.
---
Judging by the sounds of shouting and swearing and storming off, Faye had made both her great entrance and exit in one swift action. Still slightly dazed from the punch, Kitty blinked hard a couple of times, trying to focus. Why was Faye waving that gun about? Not exactly safe. She could get hurt.
Cautiously she raised herself up off of the wall, debating whether to pursue or not. Common sense told her that she should walk away, and if she couldn't walk away and had to stay put she should get equally angry back at the other woman. But no. Neither of those options would be ideal. She didn't want to start an argument, or rather to make the current one any worse. She wanted Faye to understand, she didn't want Faye to be angry at her, she wanted...
Walking as quickly as she could, which was surprisingly fast given her still-throbbing face, she grabbed hold of Faye's arm - although it was less of a grab, and more of a gentle grasp. She tried to keep her voice quiet. "My problem is that you seem to have a problem with me doing the right thing."
Her nose was still bleeding. Fuck. It was slightly hard to have a serious talk when you looked like a... scratch that, Kitty didn't want to think about what she looked like.
"When you disappeared back home without so much as a word the other month, I don't remember beating you up the second you came back. So what gives? How come I get special treatment when I try and warn you beforehand?"
---
Faye halted the second Kitty grabbed her, pausing only to wrench her arm out of the other girl’s grip and throw a scowl her way. She didn’t need Kitty restraining her like she was some petulant child running away from getting a scolding. And Kitty’s mouth was moving, too, which had never been a good thing…
And Faye was right. It wasn’t a good thing, especially not now. “The right thing?!” Faye accused, throwing her hands up and finally turning to face Jones with her face so hot from the heat and from anger that she could physically feel it frying. “That’s what everyone always says! The right thing! If this is the right thing then I’m fucking Ein.”
Turning from Kitty, she fumbled with her sweater pocket, searching for her cigarettes. Closing her fingers around sweet cellophane, Faye went on: “Every time you people get these stupid ideas in your head, you always say that it’s right thing. Well you know what? It’s not the right thing. It’s never the right thing unless you think the right thing is getting yourself smeared across an alley or, in your case, collapsing from being ninety-goddamn-years-old.”
Once she managed to get the cigarette out between her sweaty fingers, she realized she still had to light the thing. She also realized that her hands were shaking and the lighter she was using wasn’t cooperating. “The difference,” Faye said around the filter in her mouth, “is that I didn’t go back by my own decision. I didn’t go back thinking that something other than Jet’s cooking might kill me. I didn’t go back knowing all of that. I didn’t have a choice and you do, you stupid fucking bitch.”
It was unfair, and Faye knew it, but that didn’t make her feel any better.
---
"It's the right choice. If I don't do this then people could die, Faye. This was what I was working towards for my whole life. A chance for some sort of peace between the dimensions in my world, breaking the cycle. If I don't do this now then I'll have failed..."
Closing her eyes for a moment, she breathed in deeply. Images flashed in her mind. Her parents, London, the bombs, the spirits, the Gate, the war, Nathaniel, the rebellion, death, everything. "...Everything. Everything I've done will have been for nothing. Even practically dying won't mean a thing unless I can finish what I set out to do when I was a kid."
Kitty had a knack for reading people. It had been part of her job, it had been a survival skill and she had just been... good at it. Add to that the fact that she'd known Faye for a good long while... who was the other woman kidding? As if Kitty hadn't noticed how protective Faye got over anyone and everyone she was close to. Like she didn't know Faye would take everything she could for herself, but when it came to the big picture, she always made the right decision. Like she hadn't noticed that Faye had just as many fears as her, however deep she tried to bury them. Of course Kitty knew. Faye was being an idiot if she thought the tough façade was going to blind her.
"Don't try and pretend you don't care about the greater good. I know you're lying."
---
Kitty might as well have been talking Gibberish. All this bullshit about dimensions and cycles. Maybe Jet was right: Faye should’ve paid attention in physics, not that she could remember. Besides the point, Faye, on your toes. She steeled herself, trying to worm her way in, but Kitty took a breath and plunged on before Faye could say anything.
Her feet were itching in her boots by the time Kitty shut her mouth and dared to point fingers in Faye’s face. She let herself look disgusted at Kitty’s comment, but she wasn’t sure if that disgust was trying to be internalized or if it was just sick of putting up with Kitty’s know-it-all attitude. Snorting, Faye said, “Don’t pretend like you know anything about me, Jones. You’re one of those people who see what they want. You don’t look at the bigger picture. Obviously, since you aren’t even trying on this Going Back crap. So don’t try to apply your holier-than-thou knowledge to my redeeming characteristics. Leave that to me.”
Greedy Faye, always at her best.
She’d finally steadied her hands enough to get the lighter to work—another useless purchase—and inhaled deeply as she flared up. Nicotine flooded and Faye closed her eyes. Her gun was cool in her fingers, and if Faye turned and threw the barrel up, it would be déjà vu. She didn’t know how willing she was to compare one life to the other, so she chose her next words carefully, tapping ashes onto the uneven ground. She knew she had to mean it, and she did.
“I’m not going to care this time,” Faye said steadily, though her stomach clenched and her hands shook. “If you go back and dissolve, it’ll be no skin off my nose.”
---
Oh, sod it all - she hated it when Faye got like this. The woman even managed to convince herself at times that she was a girl who cared for nothing and nobody. Which just wasn't true, however vehemently Faye denied it. What's more, Kitty knew Faye didn't understand what she was trying to say about why she was doing this. It was so hard to try and explain to her what it was like growing up in her world. What the system was like, what the war was like. How she would have given her life even as a little child to change it. And now that she finally had the chance... Faye was rambling on about the bigger picture.
"Enlighten me as to this 'bigger picture' then, Faye. If I stay here, I'll end up miserable, and even if we do somehow stop this countdown in the City my world will end up dead. Whereas if I go there's only a small risk to my life, I can complete what I've been working towards and return here happy and safe. So what aren't I seeing?"
At her next words, Kitty froze. Faye was lying, wasn't she? She had to be. Faye didn't... she didn't mean it. She was just being her usual selfish self. But however much Kitty repeated that in her head like a mantra, she was still swallowing hard, and her eye contact with the other woman was wavering.
"If you don't care, then why are you getting so worked up? I'm not leaving you Faye. I'm coming back."
---
Faye bristled, more annoyed now than upset or hurt or any combination. She took a hard, sharp drag on her cigarette, peering idly at Kitty over the haze of heat and smoke. Crossing her arms over her stomach, skin sticky with sweat, Faye waited for Kitty to stop chattering, feeling her insides finally settle and stop burning.
Once she’d finished Faye found herself snorting, pushing her hair away from her face and rolling her eyes. “What makes you think it matters so much to me whether you come back or not now? You just made your decision. If what I’ve got to say doesn’t factor into it, then fine. It’s not my business anymore.” She cut herself off, taking another drag and blowing a sharp plume of smoke out her nostrils.
“I guess I should’ve known better dealing with someone like you,” Faye went on, her tone mocking. She could hear herself talking in that tone—Make your funny little jokes, ha ha—all cynics and gunpowder attitude. In her mind, Faye couldn’t find the will to do anything else but not give a damn. “Who cares if I might know better, though, right? It doesn’t matter to someone whose head’s as stubborn as a mule, but hey, if the face fits.”
Satisfied, she started walk off again in the direction that she’d been heading, reasoning that if someone was planning on walking away from her again… well, fuck that. She’d walk away first.
---
She tried not to let any of what Faye said get to her, but Kitty couldn't help it - the words stung, and she found herself blinking hard. She'd never wanted to leave the City in the first place. It had taken every fibre of her being to force her into accepting Ptolemy's request, and to have her friend reacting to her decision like this... it hurt. And it shook her. She felt her old fears about returning home beginning to bubble to the surface of her mind.
Clenching her fists in an attempt to push it back down, she fixed her gaze on Faye. "What is it that you've got to say?" But already, the woman was stalking off into the darkness of the alleyway. Leaving Kitty with nothing but a nosebleed, the lick of sweat on her skin and a cold sort of dread in the pit of her stomach.
"You're my best friend," she called after the retreating figure, words spoken before she even realised what she was saying. Her tone wasn't angry anymore, or indignant. It was simply...quiet. "I don't want to go. I don't want to leave you. I don't want to die. But I have to, there isn't a choice here. Don't you understand that?"
---
Tossing her spent cigarette to the ground to fieldstrip it with the heel of her boot, Faye bit down hard enough on the inside of her cheek to break the skin. She reminded herself that it wasn’t because she was getting emotional—because Faye Valentine didn’t get emotional—that it was only because she needed to bite her tongue, literally in this case, give Kitty a fair chance at making a complete ass out of herself some more.
They were down in one of the alley bellies that connected Underground and City Proper, and Faye could feel the change in temperature filtering up from the bowels beneath them. It was almost like a breeze, and Faye gave anyone who might’ve been watching that excuse as to why she turned to face toward it as Kitty spoke. She checked her gun, cocked it, thought about firing a round off into the alley to drown out Kitty’s screeching but decided against it.
Faye almost laughed. Almost. She had the willpower but lacked the desire. Something about this, the way they were standing, she didn’t like it. She needed to get out of it before she did something stupid and immature.
She shook her head, like waking up, and said, ignoring Kitty’s first question, “Yeah. Loud and clear, Jones, are we done?”
---
The rational part of her brain said Faye would never shoot, but still Kitty found herself wincing when she started playing around with her gun. Perhaps it was instinct, or perhaps it was because Faye just looked really, really mad. It wasn't only the too-humid air that made it hard to breathe as the realisation hit her that, no matter what she said, her friend was still going to be like... like this.
"Fine," Kitty kept her tone emotionless. Or tried to. "We're done." On the last word her voice almost cracked, but she kept it at bay.
"I'm..." More words started to stutter out, but she had no idea what she was saying anymore. With a resigned sigh, she ran a hand over her face, sweeping the sweat from above her eyes. "I was planning on leaving this week. In a couple of days. If you... wanted to say goodbye."
Only quickly biting her bottom lip kept her from adding: I'd appreciate it.
---
Faye shrugged, still standing with her back to Kitty. She chanced a glance from over the rise of her shoulder, decided that she didn’t like what she saw there, and looked back down into the alley. Kitty’s face was still pressed into the back of her mind: half-bloody, half-sweaty, all kinds of upset. It didn’t stop her from being all kinds of pissed off herself, but that seemed secondary to just getting the hell out of there.
Nodding, she agreed, resolutely ignoring the way Kitty’s voice didn’t sound so defiant anymore. Better to concentrate on the tasks at hand, like her gun and how she should be shooting it right about now.
“Why not just get it over with?” Faye inquired, narrowing her eyes against the sudden sting the breeze from the Underground brought. “I mean, we are right here, Jones.”
---
Apparently she wasn't even worth looking at anymore. Kitty wasn't sure if that made this easier or harder. Part of her wanted to look into Faye's eyes, to see if she really meant it, and part of her... was too afraid of what she might see there.
"Goodbye," Kitty stammered out the farewell, and it felt foreign on her tongue, and hotter than the steadily rising temperature around them. It sounded wrong. Was that really all they were going to do? "Faye, I..."
What else could she say? She knew there was more, a lot more, but she couldn't work out how to put it. In the end the phrase she chose was pathetically short in length, and she found herself closing her eyes, trying not to— Not to let the hot air burn her eyeballs, of course. "Thanks. For everything."
---
A part of Faye fell apart at the admission, but she refused to let it show, keeping her shoulders tight and her spine braced. She’d never said goodbye before, not really. There were ways of going about it, but Faye had a feeling that trying to shoot Kitty wasn’t going to work in this situation either.
Mopping the sweat off of her face, Faye found her torso moving without her permission, turning about half-way around so that she could at least see Kitty in the shade of the walls around them. The other girl’s eyes were closed, and Faye didn’t feel bad. She was thanking her for something, and Faye didn’t feel bad. She really was going to leave, and Faye did not feel bad.
“Have a nice trip,” Faye said, turning back around and picking at her fingernails. They needed a soak, some buffering. She could use with a nice filing job as well, not that there was anything left of them, the way she’d been biting lately. It only occurred a moment later, when she was sure it was too late to take it back, that Faye realized she probably wasn’t giving this situation the full attention it deserved. That was probably part of the reason the brick in her throat surprised her.
After all, it wasn’t every day heat stroke caused lumps to form in throats, though Faye always had been a modern marvel of a science experiment.
---
Faye's monotone sentences were making her attitude towards the conversation quite clear, yet Kitty still struggled to find something more to say. She felt there had to be more to say - but the right words eluded her. This was the sort of thing she could spend months trying to work out and still not hit the right formula. There was no good way to do this, no perfect farewell that would make it all okay. So ultimately she settled on the first thing that came into her mind. She figured that meant it came from the heart. Not that she'd ever been much good at that sentimental stuff.
"Please, try and look after yourself," she said, simply and quietly. She wasn't sure if all the emotion in her voice had been burnt up by the heat, worn out through excessive use, or had simply realised it was redundant at this point in the conversation.
With that... she left, turning away and walking briskly into the depths of the alley once more. She didn't give Faye time to make some snappy retort or twist the words back around on her. Her lips were forced into a straight line, her eyes bored holes into the empty air in front of her, her hands were shoved deep in her pockets, knuckles turning white as she clutched at the material.
Kitty had known she would have to make sacrifices in pursuing... this. But she couldn't have guessed that the sacrifices would start before she'd even left the City. Surprise, surprise - that, she supposed, was life. And the last few minutes of her life were hastily added to the list of memories she'd try to drown out in the bar.
Rating; PG-13
Characters; Kitty (
kittyjones) & Faye (glock30)Summary; Sometimes it's just better to cut your losses and run. Or punch them and run.
Log;
It wasn't a general habit of Kitty's to hang around in alleys. Well, that was a lie. It was a habit - or, at least in London it had been, when she'd been forced to keep off the main roads and away from the police to preserve her own well-being. Unlike most of the City, she found it safer for her here than it was back home. But she supposed she'd have to get used to alleys and late nights and danger once more if she was going to go back to her world, as was the plan. So now she was cutting down a long, dark passageway - partly because it was a quicker route to the bar, but also partly to get into the habit of it again.
She sighed. How the hell had Faye found out about her plan to return home? She'd wanted to tell her herself, face-to-face. Maybe then Faye wouldn't have been so... No, that was a lie too. She knew Faye would have reacted in exactly the same way, just possibly with a little more violence thrown in. Patience might be a virtue, but it wasn't one of hers. But fuck, Kitty didn't want it to happen like this. If she was going to go home to get herself killed, a little encouragement and a cheerful send-off beforehand would be more than welcome.
Wiping her brow she glared at the dull, muggy sky above - the curses were making the weather obscenely hot, which didn't help. What more could she do? Faye wasn't talking to her, and nothing but talking would help. So she continued walking forward, about to turn the sharp corner up ahead. She'd avoided getting spectacularly drunk for quite some time now, but perhaps it was time to return to the comfort of the bottom of the bottle, albeit briefly.
---
Faye wiped the sweat off of her forehead, trying to remember why vinyl had ever been a good choice in the first place. Her skin was sticking to her clothing as she made her way down familiar twists and turns, paths that her feet had followed more than once. She kept her eyes level—on the ground. The rough weight of her Glock was almost reassuring against her ribcage, and the thought of firing off a few rounds was soothing to say the least.
In all honesty she just needed something to explode. Faye had spent the last week or so on the edge of a cliff, and if something did blow her over and get that weightless feeling out of her stomach, then the thing exploding was likely to be her and she didn’t exactly like the end result of that. She knew it wasn’t entirely Kitty’s fault—Vash and Spike had both been on her mind enough in their own right, after all. Kitty just tended to add fuel to the already laboring fire.
Swallowing sharply, Faye turned a corner, bathed in quick, abrupt shadow. The heat was still stifling, and she yanked the knot on her sweater free from around her waist, mopping her forehead and pushing her bangs out of her face. She could barely breathe with the humidity, and she just wanted to get to the Underground where she could shoot and think, or only do one at a time so that—
Thud.
Jarred, Faye looked up, and then she looked up some more until all of Kitty’s face was composed in her immediate line of vision.
---
This was definitely one of those curses that could be called annoying. I mean, what kind of management ordered a heat-wave without thinking of an ice-cream truck? Poor planning, in Kitty's opinion. She'd left her customary leather jacket back at the flat, wearing just vest, trousers and boots now - although no breeze brushed past her bare arms. It occurred to her that she hadn't spent a summer in the City yet. She didn't have any clothes for warmer weather at all. She wondered if August would be—
No. Now was hardly the time to think about that. Now was the time to think of freezing cold alcohol, in a nice, cool, underground bar. It was so hot out here she wouldn't be surprised that if she were walking barefoot her feet would burn and sizzle on the concrete. The air was thick with stifling warmth, and she picked up the pace a little, beginning to wonder if this had been such a good idea in the first place.
The increase in speed only made the collision at the corner even harder.
Wham.
Losing her footing a little, she staggered back a step. Sudden movement combined with the heat did not make for a good combination, and she had to hastily press one hand against the wall to steady herself. Her head was spinning for a moment, and still she tried to focus on whoever it was she'd crashed into, her muscles tensing in case of a fight. But was that— It couldn't be—
--
Something contracted in Faye’s stomach—that same sinking feeling she’d had plenty of times before when she knew the resulting confrontation wasn’t going to go the way she wanted it. Jet held a handful of them. Spike had one. Now Kitty had one, too. Faye chalked it up to her destiny: all she could hope was that fate would start smiling kindly on her and get her away from these idiotic people and their stupid delusions of grandeur.
She rubbed her shoulder where it had collided sharply with Kitty’s sternum, her gun jostling against her as she righted herself. Kitty was giving her the oddest look, and Faye didn’t know what it was. She had no idea. That bubbling in her chest and stomach was back when she looked at Kitty, and Faye felt cornered, helpless, out of control. The heat was making her head woozy and her memory was watching and knowing things that she’d rather it didn’t.
There had been episodes playing in her brain all morning and afternoon and all she wanted to do was shoot something to get rid of them. But no. Kitty had to fuck that up, too. Well fuck Kitty. Fuck Kitty and fuck everyone who had ever walked away from her, too. She was sick and tired of dealing with them and their emotional hang ups and their emotional bullshit and just--GOD everyone had such a motherfucking problem! And—and—she pulled herself upright, tensing and just—
Faye’s fist collided soundly with Kitty’s face before she realized what she’d done, and the resulting sting and throb of her knuckles was almost as welcome as the ache that it alleviated. She pulled back, clenching her fist tighter, and hissed, “I told you to leave me the fuck alone.”
---
It was only a millisecond after Kitty had matched an identity to the figure that the figure in question - Faye Valentine for certain, she'd know that far-too-confident-semi-nude woman anywhere - threw a mean punch at her. Hard. And fast. Maybe on a normal day Kitty would have managed to dodge it, but in this heat, having just been bodily shoved back against a wall... not a chance. She was half-sure she heard something crack at the impact, and there'd certainly be a bruise blossoming there the next morning.
Swearing sharply (and colourfully) under her breath, Kitty found herself swaying back towards and subsequently clutching at the wall again, the stone hot beneath her palm. With the other hand she ran her fingers across her cheek, wincing. A brief touch to her nose felt a little blood from a minor nosebleed, but nothing serious. At least it wasn't broken. She gasped a little, wiping the worse of the initial bleed away with the back of her hand.
"What the fuck is your problem?!"
Kitty had no idea why Faye was acting like this. Really, she didn't. She could understand Faye being angry at the situation, and pissed off at her, but she'd thought... she'd hoped in the end her friend would come round, would help her. Rather than assault her in alleys, which was hardly a constructive approach to any issue.
---
“What the fuck is my problem?” Faye echoed, drawing herself up. With her spine straight and her shoulders back, she almost felt as tall as Kitty. With her knuckles throbbing and Kitty’s nose bleeding, she almost felt as small as Ein. Faye shook it off, literally, shaking her hand and shouldering past Jones. “I should’ve known your face would be as thick as your skull,” she threw over her shoulder, ripping her gun out of the holster.
She was livid. Faye hadn’t been this angry in over a year, and for good reason. She had this issue, this tiny little scab that, if she picked at it, started to burn and ache. Point blank, Faye didn’t like people leaving her. She would never admit it aloud and she would never, ever let anyone know it, but it was there. It was a real possibility, and the fact of the matter was that this was just another one of those little scabs. Kitty didn’t need to make any promises that she’d be back or that she’d come back alive. Faye had heard them all before.
This was why, Faye reminded herself, she didn’t trust people. When you trusted people, you let them get in, you let them too close. The resulting sting when they screwed you over in the end was hardly memorable, but that didn’t stop it from hurting like a bitch in the five minutes you allowed yourself to acknowledge it.
Well not this time. She was done with doing that ‘stay back like a good little army wife and wait’ routine. Faye was sick and tired and mad, and anything she could get her hands on was about to realize it.
So Faye clicked off her safety and stomped toward the belly of the alley, thinking that if she couldn’t make it to the Underground without running into someone that she would at least shoot a few cats. Since she couldn’t shoot the real thing.
---
Judging by the sounds of shouting and swearing and storming off, Faye had made both her great entrance and exit in one swift action. Still slightly dazed from the punch, Kitty blinked hard a couple of times, trying to focus. Why was Faye waving that gun about? Not exactly safe. She could get hurt.
Cautiously she raised herself up off of the wall, debating whether to pursue or not. Common sense told her that she should walk away, and if she couldn't walk away and had to stay put she should get equally angry back at the other woman. But no. Neither of those options would be ideal. She didn't want to start an argument, or rather to make the current one any worse. She wanted Faye to understand, she didn't want Faye to be angry at her, she wanted...
Walking as quickly as she could, which was surprisingly fast given her still-throbbing face, she grabbed hold of Faye's arm - although it was less of a grab, and more of a gentle grasp. She tried to keep her voice quiet. "My problem is that you seem to have a problem with me doing the right thing."
Her nose was still bleeding. Fuck. It was slightly hard to have a serious talk when you looked like a... scratch that, Kitty didn't want to think about what she looked like.
"When you disappeared back home without so much as a word the other month, I don't remember beating you up the second you came back. So what gives? How come I get special treatment when I try and warn you beforehand?"
---
Faye halted the second Kitty grabbed her, pausing only to wrench her arm out of the other girl’s grip and throw a scowl her way. She didn’t need Kitty restraining her like she was some petulant child running away from getting a scolding. And Kitty’s mouth was moving, too, which had never been a good thing…
And Faye was right. It wasn’t a good thing, especially not now. “The right thing?!” Faye accused, throwing her hands up and finally turning to face Jones with her face so hot from the heat and from anger that she could physically feel it frying. “That’s what everyone always says! The right thing! If this is the right thing then I’m fucking Ein.”
Turning from Kitty, she fumbled with her sweater pocket, searching for her cigarettes. Closing her fingers around sweet cellophane, Faye went on: “Every time you people get these stupid ideas in your head, you always say that it’s right thing. Well you know what? It’s not the right thing. It’s never the right thing unless you think the right thing is getting yourself smeared across an alley or, in your case, collapsing from being ninety-goddamn-years-old.”
Once she managed to get the cigarette out between her sweaty fingers, she realized she still had to light the thing. She also realized that her hands were shaking and the lighter she was using wasn’t cooperating. “The difference,” Faye said around the filter in her mouth, “is that I didn’t go back by my own decision. I didn’t go back thinking that something other than Jet’s cooking might kill me. I didn’t go back knowing all of that. I didn’t have a choice and you do, you stupid fucking bitch.”
It was unfair, and Faye knew it, but that didn’t make her feel any better.
---
"It's the right choice. If I don't do this then people could die, Faye. This was what I was working towards for my whole life. A chance for some sort of peace between the dimensions in my world, breaking the cycle. If I don't do this now then I'll have failed..."
Closing her eyes for a moment, she breathed in deeply. Images flashed in her mind. Her parents, London, the bombs, the spirits, the Gate, the war, Nathaniel, the rebellion, death, everything. "...Everything. Everything I've done will have been for nothing. Even practically dying won't mean a thing unless I can finish what I set out to do when I was a kid."
Kitty had a knack for reading people. It had been part of her job, it had been a survival skill and she had just been... good at it. Add to that the fact that she'd known Faye for a good long while... who was the other woman kidding? As if Kitty hadn't noticed how protective Faye got over anyone and everyone she was close to. Like she didn't know Faye would take everything she could for herself, but when it came to the big picture, she always made the right decision. Like she hadn't noticed that Faye had just as many fears as her, however deep she tried to bury them. Of course Kitty knew. Faye was being an idiot if she thought the tough façade was going to blind her.
"Don't try and pretend you don't care about the greater good. I know you're lying."
---
Kitty might as well have been talking Gibberish. All this bullshit about dimensions and cycles. Maybe Jet was right: Faye should’ve paid attention in physics, not that she could remember. Besides the point, Faye, on your toes. She steeled herself, trying to worm her way in, but Kitty took a breath and plunged on before Faye could say anything.
Her feet were itching in her boots by the time Kitty shut her mouth and dared to point fingers in Faye’s face. She let herself look disgusted at Kitty’s comment, but she wasn’t sure if that disgust was trying to be internalized or if it was just sick of putting up with Kitty’s know-it-all attitude. Snorting, Faye said, “Don’t pretend like you know anything about me, Jones. You’re one of those people who see what they want. You don’t look at the bigger picture. Obviously, since you aren’t even trying on this Going Back crap. So don’t try to apply your holier-than-thou knowledge to my redeeming characteristics. Leave that to me.”
Greedy Faye, always at her best.
She’d finally steadied her hands enough to get the lighter to work—another useless purchase—and inhaled deeply as she flared up. Nicotine flooded and Faye closed her eyes. Her gun was cool in her fingers, and if Faye turned and threw the barrel up, it would be déjà vu. She didn’t know how willing she was to compare one life to the other, so she chose her next words carefully, tapping ashes onto the uneven ground. She knew she had to mean it, and she did.
“I’m not going to care this time,” Faye said steadily, though her stomach clenched and her hands shook. “If you go back and dissolve, it’ll be no skin off my nose.”
---
Oh, sod it all - she hated it when Faye got like this. The woman even managed to convince herself at times that she was a girl who cared for nothing and nobody. Which just wasn't true, however vehemently Faye denied it. What's more, Kitty knew Faye didn't understand what she was trying to say about why she was doing this. It was so hard to try and explain to her what it was like growing up in her world. What the system was like, what the war was like. How she would have given her life even as a little child to change it. And now that she finally had the chance... Faye was rambling on about the bigger picture.
"Enlighten me as to this 'bigger picture' then, Faye. If I stay here, I'll end up miserable, and even if we do somehow stop this countdown in the City my world will end up dead. Whereas if I go there's only a small risk to my life, I can complete what I've been working towards and return here happy and safe. So what aren't I seeing?"
At her next words, Kitty froze. Faye was lying, wasn't she? She had to be. Faye didn't... she didn't mean it. She was just being her usual selfish self. But however much Kitty repeated that in her head like a mantra, she was still swallowing hard, and her eye contact with the other woman was wavering.
"If you don't care, then why are you getting so worked up? I'm not leaving you Faye. I'm coming back."
---
Faye bristled, more annoyed now than upset or hurt or any combination. She took a hard, sharp drag on her cigarette, peering idly at Kitty over the haze of heat and smoke. Crossing her arms over her stomach, skin sticky with sweat, Faye waited for Kitty to stop chattering, feeling her insides finally settle and stop burning.
Once she’d finished Faye found herself snorting, pushing her hair away from her face and rolling her eyes. “What makes you think it matters so much to me whether you come back or not now? You just made your decision. If what I’ve got to say doesn’t factor into it, then fine. It’s not my business anymore.” She cut herself off, taking another drag and blowing a sharp plume of smoke out her nostrils.
“I guess I should’ve known better dealing with someone like you,” Faye went on, her tone mocking. She could hear herself talking in that tone—Make your funny little jokes, ha ha—all cynics and gunpowder attitude. In her mind, Faye couldn’t find the will to do anything else but not give a damn. “Who cares if I might know better, though, right? It doesn’t matter to someone whose head’s as stubborn as a mule, but hey, if the face fits.”
Satisfied, she started walk off again in the direction that she’d been heading, reasoning that if someone was planning on walking away from her again… well, fuck that. She’d walk away first.
---
She tried not to let any of what Faye said get to her, but Kitty couldn't help it - the words stung, and she found herself blinking hard. She'd never wanted to leave the City in the first place. It had taken every fibre of her being to force her into accepting Ptolemy's request, and to have her friend reacting to her decision like this... it hurt. And it shook her. She felt her old fears about returning home beginning to bubble to the surface of her mind.
Clenching her fists in an attempt to push it back down, she fixed her gaze on Faye. "What is it that you've got to say?" But already, the woman was stalking off into the darkness of the alleyway. Leaving Kitty with nothing but a nosebleed, the lick of sweat on her skin and a cold sort of dread in the pit of her stomach.
"You're my best friend," she called after the retreating figure, words spoken before she even realised what she was saying. Her tone wasn't angry anymore, or indignant. It was simply...quiet. "I don't want to go. I don't want to leave you. I don't want to die. But I have to, there isn't a choice here. Don't you understand that?"
---
Tossing her spent cigarette to the ground to fieldstrip it with the heel of her boot, Faye bit down hard enough on the inside of her cheek to break the skin. She reminded herself that it wasn’t because she was getting emotional—because Faye Valentine didn’t get emotional—that it was only because she needed to bite her tongue, literally in this case, give Kitty a fair chance at making a complete ass out of herself some more.
They were down in one of the alley bellies that connected Underground and City Proper, and Faye could feel the change in temperature filtering up from the bowels beneath them. It was almost like a breeze, and Faye gave anyone who might’ve been watching that excuse as to why she turned to face toward it as Kitty spoke. She checked her gun, cocked it, thought about firing a round off into the alley to drown out Kitty’s screeching but decided against it.
Faye almost laughed. Almost. She had the willpower but lacked the desire. Something about this, the way they were standing, she didn’t like it. She needed to get out of it before she did something stupid and immature.
She shook her head, like waking up, and said, ignoring Kitty’s first question, “Yeah. Loud and clear, Jones, are we done?”
---
The rational part of her brain said Faye would never shoot, but still Kitty found herself wincing when she started playing around with her gun. Perhaps it was instinct, or perhaps it was because Faye just looked really, really mad. It wasn't only the too-humid air that made it hard to breathe as the realisation hit her that, no matter what she said, her friend was still going to be like... like this.
"Fine," Kitty kept her tone emotionless. Or tried to. "We're done." On the last word her voice almost cracked, but she kept it at bay.
"I'm..." More words started to stutter out, but she had no idea what she was saying anymore. With a resigned sigh, she ran a hand over her face, sweeping the sweat from above her eyes. "I was planning on leaving this week. In a couple of days. If you... wanted to say goodbye."
Only quickly biting her bottom lip kept her from adding: I'd appreciate it.
---
Faye shrugged, still standing with her back to Kitty. She chanced a glance from over the rise of her shoulder, decided that she didn’t like what she saw there, and looked back down into the alley. Kitty’s face was still pressed into the back of her mind: half-bloody, half-sweaty, all kinds of upset. It didn’t stop her from being all kinds of pissed off herself, but that seemed secondary to just getting the hell out of there.
Nodding, she agreed, resolutely ignoring the way Kitty’s voice didn’t sound so defiant anymore. Better to concentrate on the tasks at hand, like her gun and how she should be shooting it right about now.
“Why not just get it over with?” Faye inquired, narrowing her eyes against the sudden sting the breeze from the Underground brought. “I mean, we are right here, Jones.”
---
Apparently she wasn't even worth looking at anymore. Kitty wasn't sure if that made this easier or harder. Part of her wanted to look into Faye's eyes, to see if she really meant it, and part of her... was too afraid of what she might see there.
"Goodbye," Kitty stammered out the farewell, and it felt foreign on her tongue, and hotter than the steadily rising temperature around them. It sounded wrong. Was that really all they were going to do? "Faye, I..."
What else could she say? She knew there was more, a lot more, but she couldn't work out how to put it. In the end the phrase she chose was pathetically short in length, and she found herself closing her eyes, trying not to— Not to let the hot air burn her eyeballs, of course. "Thanks. For everything."
---
A part of Faye fell apart at the admission, but she refused to let it show, keeping her shoulders tight and her spine braced. She’d never said goodbye before, not really. There were ways of going about it, but Faye had a feeling that trying to shoot Kitty wasn’t going to work in this situation either.
Mopping the sweat off of her face, Faye found her torso moving without her permission, turning about half-way around so that she could at least see Kitty in the shade of the walls around them. The other girl’s eyes were closed, and Faye didn’t feel bad. She was thanking her for something, and Faye didn’t feel bad. She really was going to leave, and Faye did not feel bad.
“Have a nice trip,” Faye said, turning back around and picking at her fingernails. They needed a soak, some buffering. She could use with a nice filing job as well, not that there was anything left of them, the way she’d been biting lately. It only occurred a moment later, when she was sure it was too late to take it back, that Faye realized she probably wasn’t giving this situation the full attention it deserved. That was probably part of the reason the brick in her throat surprised her.
After all, it wasn’t every day heat stroke caused lumps to form in throats, though Faye always had been a modern marvel of a science experiment.
---
Faye's monotone sentences were making her attitude towards the conversation quite clear, yet Kitty still struggled to find something more to say. She felt there had to be more to say - but the right words eluded her. This was the sort of thing she could spend months trying to work out and still not hit the right formula. There was no good way to do this, no perfect farewell that would make it all okay. So ultimately she settled on the first thing that came into her mind. She figured that meant it came from the heart. Not that she'd ever been much good at that sentimental stuff.
"Please, try and look after yourself," she said, simply and quietly. She wasn't sure if all the emotion in her voice had been burnt up by the heat, worn out through excessive use, or had simply realised it was redundant at this point in the conversation.
With that... she left, turning away and walking briskly into the depths of the alley once more. She didn't give Faye time to make some snappy retort or twist the words back around on her. Her lips were forced into a straight line, her eyes bored holes into the empty air in front of her, her hands were shoved deep in her pockets, knuckles turning white as she clutched at the material.
Kitty had known she would have to make sacrifices in pursuing... this. But she couldn't have guessed that the sacrifices would start before she'd even left the City. Surprise, surprise - that, she supposed, was life. And the last few minutes of her life were hastily added to the list of memories she'd try to drown out in the bar.