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Faith wasn't in love with Hild.

She's not sure she's capable of being in love, and anyway, both of them are a little too practical for that.

Were. In Hild's case, were.

But she was fond of the Valkyrie...cared for her...as a lover, and as a friend.

They burned the bodies, sent them to sea, got Villiers settled in...and now he's sleeping, and Faith is alone in the darkness, carving stakes out of the debris of a building, glad to have something, anything, to take her mind off of...things.

She's supposed to be alone. All Slayers are. She knows this.

Doesn't make it any easier.

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Dammit.

"Hey," says Wendell softly from the doorway.

It's not like there's anything he can do. He knows damn well there's nothing he can do, because he knows exactly where she is and he's in the same damn place.

Doesn't make it any easier to watch her suffer.

(And at least she doesn't have the guilt.)

"I should have been there."

Doesn't have the guilt? Oh Wen. How little you know her.

"If I'd been there...."

"If you'd been there she still would've gone screaming in like she always does. Sometimes something comes along that's just too big for us, you know?"

Wendell was there, and all he could do for Jean-Claude was take advantage of his mortal wound to unload the rat-plague onto him.

"....yeah. Yeah."

Faith inhales, then exhales shakily.

"So, new guy seems okay."

"Yeah 'en? I haven't spoken to him much since I brought him in."

To busy emoing in corners.

"Seems it. Time will tell. Bit bookish, but he'll get over that, I imagine."

Beat.

"Or, you know, snap, lose his mind, etc."

"Last thing we need is another Félice."

Shudder.

"No kidding."

Faith shudders too, and then looks up at him.

"You gonna be okay?"

He opens his mouth...

...closes it again, and shrugs, a little defensively.

Short pause.

"Don't know. Think I have to be."

"Yeah."

Faith nods understanding.

"I'd hug you, but I'm not the type."

Wry smile. "I appreciate the thought."

Faith smiles back, equally darkly.

"Never buried a lover before."

"Neither have I."

In an unprecedented show of openness: "Left one behind, though. In Fremmanland. His name was Tom."

"I'm sorry."

Faith falls silent for a second.

"I worked as an assassin, back on Earth."

This is unprecedented openness for her, too.

"Yeah 'en?"

The first thing he thinks of is that he's known some assassins.

The second thing he thinks of is Redgrin.

There's a very complicated silence before heresponds, "I was a thief, mostly."

"I murdered people, when I was young, and went to jail for it. When I got out....assassin. That's why I was wearing a dress when I got here...infiltrating the home of a noblewoman..."

Another silence, this one also complicated - and pained.

"There was a time when I would be more likely to be the thing you should kill, than the thing that helps you kill it."

For a moment the only movement from Wendell is the twith in his cheek.

Then: "You're not a thing, Faith."

It's the closest he can get to expressing years of frustration at the attitude towards skinshifters without giving too much away.

"Sometimes I wonder."

Faith looks up at him.

"I'm a demon. Well, part....it's where my powers come from."

"That's shit. You have a soul, I know you do."

And all right, so he's still not quite ready to explain why he's so adamant on this point.

"Well, yeah, I do, but I also have a demon's spirit bound to mine."

Faith shrugs.

"The darkness takes over sometimes. I'm....dangerous. Always will be."

Long pause.

"I go out, sometimes, when you guys are asleep. Running. Hunting."

"I know."

Deeeep breath.

"I've done the midnight excursion thing too, sometimes."

"......yeah?"

Faith eyes him, carefully.

"Insomnia troubles?"

"Something like that."

He rubs his face.

"I'm a skinshifter. Turn into a rat. Where I come from, they call us demons, but we're not, see? Or we wouldn't keep acting like just folk after we're made. I don't know what we are. I just know it's not bad, not all of it. And you're not bad either."

After this somewhat inelegant speech, Wendell adds: "So sometimes I need to be a rat for a while. Remind myself what it's like."

"Oh."

Faith? Is not bothered by this information.

Doesn't even -blink.-

"I've known a couple of those. Weres, I mean. I've never once accused one of being demonic."

Beat.

"Nor are they on my list of Things To Slay."

That right there? That's a reassurance.

All right, he has to laugh.

"Good to know."

Faith's silent again, for a minute.

"Means a lot that you'd trust me with knowing that. Assume you don't spread it around."

"You're the second person I've told."

He assumes she can figure out on her own who the first was.

Faith blinks, and then ducks her head.

Wow, that's a BLUSH.

"Definitely means a lot, then."

Beat.

"I haven't told anybody else where my powers come from."

A few people knew, back home, but it wasn't because she told them.

"So do we hug now? Or am I too gay for that?"

C'mon, laugh. This situation needs some companionable merriment.

Faith snorts and gets up, hugging him.

Very briefly.

"If ever you tell anyone that I hugged you, mayhem will ensue."

He hugs back, and lets go when she does, grinning wryly.

"I can keep a secret. Promise."

"Excellent.

Faith pauses, then smirks.

"You know. If this were a movie? There would be sweeping orchestral music playing. Right now."

Wendell hums innocently.

It's the best impression of an orchestra he can do on short notice.

"If only we had a piano," Faith says, mournfully. "I could play us a theme song."

"Yeah 'en. And I could scrounge up a fiddle-- those're easy to learn, right?"

"I feel sure. And hey, bonus - the bow? Would make a cool weapon in a pinch."

Faith thinks of things like that.

"I could tie a knife to the end and use it like a very short spear."

"Music of doom."

Faith nods, seriously.

"Obviously we are geniuses."

"Obviously."

Wen tries not to laugh. And fails. Miserably.

Hey, if you're laughing, it means you're not crying. And that's a good thing.

Faith smiles at him, warm and only a little sad.

It's good progress.

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