The cheap, twenty-four hour diner was mostly empty, and not even the droopy-eyed, snoozy waitress gave the two women a second glance, despite them both having dripped rain water the whole way from the door with creaking hinges to the booth they sat at now. Everything about this meagre, greasy place matched their sombre mood; from the corner of the roof cracked with damp and leaking water to the jarred bell above the door which no longer pinged when a customer entered.
When Faith had pulled herself together enough to shove Buffy away from her and fist defiantly at her tears, she had waned nothing more than to be alone with the teeming thoughts she found herself trying to combat, but the stubborn blonde slayer had insisted they needed to talk it all through. Against her wishes, Faith agreed, but refused to return home in favour or going somewhere neutral.
After a short car ride and a few minutes of contemplation, Buffy admitted internally that it was the right decision. Being at home, in a place so familiar would suffocate them both in their heightened state of shock and emotion. Their home was a place filled with domestic aura full of happier times, and their impending conversation, which could be potentially venomous and extremely pressurized, would be unwise to be held there. Regardless of how intense their lashing emotions got, the night would be a long one.
Occupying opposite sides of the booth, both women had their hands cupped around hot steaming beverages, trying not to involuntarily shiver as they sat in their wet clothes. Buffy drank coffee, and Faith, unable and unwilling to ingest caffeine in her pregnant state, sat with a cup of strongly brewed tea. She wasn’t all that fond of the drink, however right then it possessed a warmth which travelled down to her stomach and spread throughout her; bringing comfort to her chilled bones.
Fight down a shudder from the frosty air lying dormant around them, Buffy bit her lip and glanced over at Faith, who was dragging the tip of her forefinger around the edge of her mug. She cleared her throat, and immediately cringed at how loud it seemed. Even the waitress raised an eyebrow at her from where she was leaning over a TV magazine.
“So that’s why you’ve been getting sick, huh?” Buffy asked, her tone free of any malice or accusation. It was arguably the biggest epiphany of her life, but she tried to keep her tone neutral, disguising all trace of revelation in her voice.
“Yeah. Food poisoning wouldn’t keep a slayer down for that long,” Faith replied sullenly, keeping her eyes low; even when she knew her girlfriend was trying hard to meet her gaze.
“Figures,” Buffy breathed, giving up on attempting eye contact to watch a fat fly hovering above their heads. It buzzed and flew in lethargic circles, before landing on the fluorescent light. Buffy watched with a jolt of sadness as it crawled through the thin metal wire and found its swift demises in electrocution. The slayer blinked and thought about how it could spend its time weaving lazily through its short life, just to have it end in an instant without warning. Just a flash, unseen in the long term. Buffy snorted softly, sipping her coffee. Ironic, she thought.
Faith swallowed thickly and trailed the pad of her thumb over the rim of the mug and down the curve of its handle as she organized her thoughts. She had always been good at compartmentalizing, especially over the last few weeks, but now everything was tumbling down and falling apart. She focused on fleeting snippets of possible previews of just how easily or badly the conversation could go. Searching every ounce of her sense and reason she tried to anchor herself to something that would be an understandable starting point, as well as being a safe approach. She came up short.
Settling on shrugging in pathetic defeat, Faith wiped a drop of tea away from the side of the mug, and whispered, “What the hell are we gonna do, B?”
The side of Buffy’s mouth quirked into a wry smile while she considered the question and tried to comb through her damp hair with her fingers. They just got tangled, so she gave up and sighed heavily.
“We could…go home, get undressed. Attempt to make love but fail because after five minutes we just aren’t that into it. So we fall asleep facing away from each other and pretend we are better people than we really are,” Buffy muttered, before turning up her nose in disgust and chugging down the rest of the cheap, tasteless coffee. She completely missed the horrified expression on Faith’s face. “Wow,” she remarked, gazing at the brown stains in the bottom of the mug. “We really are running scenes from my parent’s marriage.”
Faith just shook her head and scoffed, turning her head to stare sourly out at the darkness of the night. Rain continued to punch every creature, living or otherwise, which found itself outside. In the shine off the lights on the window, Faith could see her reflection, which only looked half as drained as she felt.
“And here I thought you were gonna be the optimistic one,” Faith stated bluntly, not taking her blank stare from the glimmering eyes of her reflection.
“Oh come on, Faith. If neither of us find the funny to side to this, we’re both gonna go neurotic,” Buffy said.
“Comforting. Thanks B. That puts everything into perspective,” Faith sneered sarcastically, raising Buffy her mug of tea before finishing the drink off.
Buffy rolled her eyes and slumped back into the booth. She chewed on the inside of her cheek and drummed her fingernails on the tabletop. Despite two years together, Faith was still incredibly difficult to navigate emotionally. The blonde thought that she was slightly better in her ability to read her partner, but it was still hit and miss.
“Look, Faith,” she tried calmly. “This is a huge, huge shock to the system here.”
“I’m the one carrying your stupid love child,” Faith complained, before groaning and running her hands through her wet locks. She closed her eyes, and then something struck her. “B?”
“Yeah?” Buffy replied, grimacing at a discoloured, stained patch of the booth near her. “What?”
“Are we…?” Faith opened her eyes, waiting until she had Buffy’s full attention pulled away from the patch on the leather booth. “Are we gonna keep it?” She asked lowly.
Buffy inhaled sharply, held it for a moment, and then nodded. “Of course I mean…why wouldn’t we?” She said just as low.
Faith gingerly palmed her stomach through her sodden shirt, losing herself in her mind’s eyes for a moment as her eyes dart across the surface of the table in front of her. When her brown eyes met Buffy’s they were full of the debating battle that raged inside of her head. “What if we can’t support it financially? Or…jeez, B, what if we can’t make it as parents? I’m gonna be a shit mother.”
“Faith,” Buffy scolded, reaching for Faith’s hand. It evaded her, Faith scooting backwards to press herself against her side of the booth. Buffy tried to hide the hurt she felt behind an artificial smile. “We’ll get there, okay? We can do this. You can do this.” Faith opened her mouth to protest but Buffy shook her head adamantly. “You can. I believe in you.”
“Of course you do,” Faith hissed, eyes flashing with pent up anger. “You’re all gung-ho about this sitch but you’re packing off on a worldly holiday for three months. When you come back I’ll be almost six months. Will you be so excited then, huh?”
Buffy felt like she’d just received blunt force trauma to the back of the head. She realized two things in that moment; one, that she needed to cut down on the amount of procedural crime dramas she was watching when she slacking between her classes at the Academy, and also Faith was right. Buffy was leaving her to head for a perilous mission in Africa. What if Faith was left alone to raise this child? Her own eyes dashed across the surface of the grimy table before she blew out a breath and looked her partner straight in the eye.
“I don’t know,” she admitted. “But I do know one thing.” Faith narrowed her eyes, but waved a hand in a gesture for Buffy to continue her thought process. “We can make it together,” she said firmly.
Faith let out a bitter, hollow chuckle. “Really, B? Just like we’ve been hopping along nicely over the last few weeks? Months?”
“Fine, okay? I’ll admit that everything hasn’t exactly been…tickety-boo, but that doesn’t mean we have to punish our future for it,” Buffy argued. Her brows met as she laced her hands together. “You wanna know what I think?”
“Oh yeah. Feed me your wisdom, oh great overlord,” Faith spat, but her voice was softer than she expected it to be. Truth was, even she noticed how her voice cracked in the middle. Nerves, contempt, fear. A whiff of anger and a larger still dose of helplessness.
“I think that you’re scared, Faith. But that’s okay cause so am I, now that I’ve…taken a moment to process this whole deal,” Buffy breathed. This time, as she offered her hand for Faith to take, the brunette slayer’s hand twitched but it did entwine with her girlfriend’s, accepting the show of physical support with an exhale of relief. “Are you scared, Faith?”
“Terrified,” Faith murmured, a shy smile flickering on her face, clashing with a hint of a frown as Buffy squeezed her hand. “How are we gonna tell the superbuddies?
Buffy gently shook her head. “That doesn’t matter right now,” she assured softly, as Faith flashed her a grateful expression across the table.
Neither of them pushed for anything else, they just stared into each other’s eyes until the feeling of their hearts racing in their chests overtook everything else and slow smiles took root, growing on each other’s faces. Faith caressed the back of Buffy’s hand with her thumb, wetting her lips with a flicker of the tip of her tongue before she smirked.
“I’ve missed you,” Faith whispered, winking slyly, but coyness in her features gave away her full meaning.
“I’ve missed you, too,” Buffy replied, squeezing Faith’s hand in hers once more.
“C’mere,” Faith said, lifting up her arm. Buffy raised an unimpressed eyebrow before Faith patted her side of the booth and scooted over to make room for the blonde. “There’s room in this wet, horrible, heavy coat for two.”
Laughing airily, Buffy tsked, but slipped over to sit under Faith’s arm anyway. She rested her head on Faith’s shoulder and had a strange sensation overcome her for a moment. It was the feeling of coming home into the warm fire and sitting down to dinner when you’ve spent all day out in the snow. Faith tightened her arm around Buffy’s shoulder and kissed the top of her head. Finally sharing her secret filled her with ecstasy of relief, and the support from her girlfriend made her feel invincible. The arduous turbulence which had endeavoured to separate them dissipated into the air.
And in a cheap diner on a stormy night, they finally found their peace.