Chapter Ten: Cleveland, Ohio - May 2006

You should be expecting a big change.

She questioned why it unnerved her so much but could come up with no answer, as usual. She had been bothered for a long time now; she wasn't sure she had felt this conflicted since she was a teenager. And she was pretty certain that most of the time her anger and frustration came from not being able to figure herself out more than what she actually might be feeling. She remembered the way Willow's face looked, the way she had held back from saying something.

She paused for a moment, holding tightly to the bag and breathing heavily. Her face was bright red, surely from all the energy she had exerted, and her hair was sticking to her face.

"Ooo, sexy look, Buff," came Xander's voice from the stairs. "I think you could be a December for the Sweaty Girls Who Hit Stuff A Lot calendar."

She gave him a look. "That was lame."

He shrugged. "Yeah, well, it was off the top of my head. Anyway, the reason I came down is because Giles has some new info for us on the latest big adventure." His eyes widened and he gave a cheesy smile, feigning excitement.

"Great." Her tone was less than enthused – though she might have been more interested if she hadn't been trying to vent and gotten interrupted. "I'll be right up."

"Gotcha." He was about to leave, then added, "Oh, hey, you might wanna go easy on that poor thing. Looks like it's about to fall off the ceiling." Then he was gone.

Buffy looked over at the punching bag; he was right. Damn. What else could she beat mercilessly? Well, the wall seemed like a good idea; until she remembered it was cement and possibly holding the rest of the house up. Maybe I'll just stuff my face.

"So, what's the up and up?" Buffy sat down in a plush chair with a cup of yogurt and a bagel, making herself comfortable and looking around at Giles, Willow, and Xander. "Should we all be running for our lives?" She smiled derisively.

"Well, according to the research we found, apparently this particular demon gets its jollies from – well, to put it bluntly, somehow getting good guys to go bad," Willow said.

"So it's a peer pressure demon. Well that's fun." It seemed like there was something for everyone these days.

"The demon takes great pleasure in making sure its victims are of the strongest physical and mental capabilities…eh, most of the time." Giles said. "That includes Slayers." He was quick to add, "But I'm sure we have nothing to worry about, you're all very strong-minded and strong-willed."

Buffy seemed absolutely unperturbed. "So does it just, like, talk to you and convince you to start wielding a pick axe? Seems too easy." She took a bite of her bagel.

"Well, it would most likely have to make several contacts with its intended target before it could hope to accomplish anything. Anyone…confident of their position on the side of good shouldn't be that easily persuaded. That's why it only goes after those it knows are……somewhat uncertain, or have the chance of being so anyway."

She nodded. "Right. Does it have a name?"

"It goes by several different names, most along the lines of influence, coercion, inner truth, and things of that nature. It's also a shapeshifter, though it only changes form in the instances of the utmost importance to it. When it – finds someone, or something, it deems important enough. And sometimes it will use other demons to do its dirty work."

"Does it have one particular skin it likes to hang out in most of the time?"

"Yes, actually; a woman, dark hair, probably appearing to be in her 20s or some other young age. Though I'm not certain if that's the demon's actual physical state or not."

Xander felt this was his time to interject. "Has anyone ever wondered why female demons always have to be like, mega-hot? Like, you never see any she-devils that are old and wrinkly and growing hair in funky places, you know?" He looked around, and when he saw no reaction, he hung his head in defeat. "Anyway…"

"Okay... So do we know how this equals my life possibly ending?" Buffy asked, ignoring her friend's comment.

"Not yet," Willow said, almost apologetically. "We didn't find anything in the research about it ever specifically setting out to kill its victims. There was something I came across about it getting really riled up if they won't switch sides, though."

"So… Do we think it's after me? Is that it? Because if so, she's gonna be pretty pissed off."

Giles scrunched up his face. "I don't see why it would come after you, that wouldn't make much sense. Especially now that there are thousands of Slayers the world ‘round, there's plenty to choose from, and they could all very well be much less stable and strong than you are."

Buffy's features clouded, something burning in her eyes. It was gone within seconds, and she remained silent. As she looked at the others' faces, she was not extremely surprised to catch the same look before they too covered it up.

"So um… We'll try to figure out how this spells bad for Buffy and get back to you, ‘kay?" Willow said, looking at her friend. The brief look that had passed over the Slayer's face had not gone unnoticed by her.

Buffy looked at her as if she was startled to see her there. "Oh… Yeah, great. Okay." She stood, grabbing her food distractedly. "Thanks, you guys." She left the room.

Somewhere

The young woman finished her drink and turned in her seat, surveying the bar. Her dark hair hung elegantly yet wild around her face, her gaze roaming across the room. Her glittering eyes caught movement outside the window, and a slight grin filtered through her features. Standing up, she grabbed her bag and walked to the exit with a swagger that brought more than a few stares from behind beer bottles and cigarettes.

A bearded man was sitting on his motorcycle outside the bar, preparing to leave. His vision was suddenly filled by a staggeringly beautiful woman, dressed in dark clothing that clung to her and standing alluringly in front of his bike looking down at him. She put her hands on the handlebars, leaning in casually with her body and bringing her face close to his. The scent of her wafted over him, her dark eyes and full lips captivating his attention.

"Hey there." Her voice was rich, the perfect tone to match her exterior. "How far are you going?"

"Canton."

"Mind if I tag along?" She gave him a playful smile, though her eyes still seemed to penetrate him.

He handed her his helmet without breaking eye contact. "Sweetheart, I don't mind at all."

She took it, looking him in the eye. "Thanks." She strutted to the back of the bike, opening one of the saddlebags and pushing her bag into it, then charismatically settled down behind the man. After putting on the helmet, she wrapped her arms around him as he started the bike and the pair left the parking lot, leaving a trail of dust in the air behind them.

Cleveland

I've never seen the Great Wall of China, Buffy thought, picking at her food and staring off at nothing. It did cross her mind as to why perhaps she was thinking this, and about traveling in general, and people who probably had seen the Great Wall of China and other places that were very far away; but this was all bundled into a secure and very full knot that passed quickly through her mind and found its way out again – or got buried, something Buffy found she was immensely skilled at doing. If she could just apply the skill to everything else she would be set. Although what one person viewed as a skill could also be a flaw that just ended up bringing about even more problems.

Was there something she was missing? Doubtful; if anything, she had too much and was trying to rid herself of some. Her pancakes, staring sadly up at her as maple syrup oozed from them, held no answers.

You have to admit that it's sad when impending apocalypses don't do so much as give you a wrinkle, and yet when one sentence dregs up something you had buried suddenly it really is the end of the world. Stupid.

And it probably didn't even involve anything she thought it might; she was probably just a paranoid freak jumping at every possibility.

But everyone else had thought the same thing. She could tell when she looked at them; their shifting eyes, their discomfort, the few seconds of awkward silence. The same quick stream of consciousness had passed through the room, and they all knew it. But no one would say it.

"Ooo, pancakes," Willow's voice came at just the right moment from beside her as the other woman sat down at the counter. "You know I think I read somewhere once about a particular kind of demon who survives only on those."

Buffy smiled weakly and looked at her friend. "You want some?"

Willow looked at the food in thought, then went to the silverware drawer and returned with fork and knife in hand. She promptly cut off a chunk of Buffy's pancake and stuffed it into her mouth happily.

"Mmm, syrupy goodness," she said through her mouthful. Then her brow furrowed. "Why aren't you eating any?"

"Oh, uh… I was just caught up in my thoughts, that's all." She smiled and took a bite, if only to please the other woman.

"So what's new with the Buff?"

Buffy could think of several things she was not going to mention. "Not much. I – bought new curtains for my room." …Lame.

"I love my curtains. They're bright and cheerful."

There followed a few moments of uncomfortable silence – uncomfortable for Buffy more than Willow. "So…" Buffy didn't want to ask the question in fear of the answer; and she wasn't even sure why. "Did you find anything else on the demon yet?"

Willow looked almost ashamed. "No. We've been trying for the last few days but I haven't found anything that would give a reason for your life to be in danger. I mean, the demon is supposed to get really testy if its target refuses to switch sides – but that would only be a threat to you if it was coming after you, and I highly doubt that, we all do. You're too strong, the demon knows it wouldn't have a chance." She took another chunk of pancake, almost as an afterthought.

A question that knotted Buffy's insides even more – "So then……why does it involve us? …Me?" Her voice got softer, trailing off into thought. She really did not want to entertain any of the possibilities bouncing around in her mind; but was she the only one? She spoke more to herself than to the witch next to her, not looking at anything in particular as she spoke. "It goes after people who aren't mentally strong enough… Who could be swayed…" There was a great pause, as though she was almost afraid to speak. "People like…"

Buffy looked up and caught the look in Willow's eyes, in her whole face, that she had seen the other day when she arrived home. Not to mention the vibe she had gotten when they were all in the study, all thinking the same thoughts and not giving voice to them. There was a bolt of understanding that quickly passed between the two of them. Willow knew something. Why couldn't she tell her?

"Will…" she started after a moment, but was stopped by Willow's sudden leap from her seat, almost as if she had been burned.

"You know, I'm gonna go – do some more research, see if I can't find anything else. Kay?" She was gone before Buffy could protest.

God damn it. Buffy stared down at her now half-eaten pancakes, feeling emptier than before. What am I missing?

Eventually she stood up, taking her plate and throwing the remains of her food away. She put the plate and silverware in the dishwasher and left the room. She needed to be alone. To think. She ascended the winding staircase, following the wide hallway down to her bedroom. Sighing, she opened the door.

She could have passed out.

"Hey, B. New curtains?"

Chapter Eleven

"Do you have any good news for me?" She looked at her black nails, which were always immaculate no matter how many times she inspected them, her attention quickly fading as it usually did when she spoke with the insipient creatures she was forced to be in contact with. They reminded her of bugs, and practically looked the part.

"Nothing much." The lowly demon garnered a piercing look and quickly added, "Ma'am," with a grunt.

"Nothing at all?" She offered a brief inattentive glimpse in his direction and returned her focus to her nails. "My last peon was done away with quite swiftly, would you like to join him?" Her tone held absolutely no interest whatsoever, coming across as extremely bored, yet fear was still practically rolling from the cowering demon in palpable waves.

"N-no, no, I will find you information. I'll do all that I can."

"And here I was under the impression that you already were." When the demon said nothing and did not move, she cut her eyes at him in warning. "Go."

He sprung into movement immediately, startled and terrified of what she might do if he did not move fast enough.

"Do you have any idea what you're dealing with here?" Slight panic crept into his voice.

"It's an Eggo, Xander. Chill."

"It has to be just right! Not too crispy, but not floppy either. There is an applied science."

Dawn rolled her eyes, walking over to the dishware cabinet. "Okay scientist, you do it."

"Don't mind if I do."

"Hey, have either of you seen Buffy?" Willow asked, walking up behind them.

"Don't believe that I have. Actually, I haven't seen much of her at all lately," Xander said, keeping his eye on the toaster after sparing a glance at his friend.

"Me neither," Dawn said distractedly, searching for her favorite cereal bowl in the cupboard.

Buffy was experiencing a profound lack of words. Something had shorted inside her and for some reason she felt that whatever she was seeing at this moment in time was being caused by said shortage, and she was in fact alone in her room and would snap back to her senses at any given instant.

Unfortunately, this did not happen. The only change that occurred was the grin on the other woman's face growing slightly larger. She seemed closer than she had been seconds before.

"You know I think you're needed back down here on earth some time soon." She saw Faith's ample lips move as her rich voice reached Buffy's ears, a sound forgotten until now. Her mind seemed to spark to life in a way it had not done in a long time.

"What?" Buffy was aware of her own voice saying, still not completely coherent or comprehending.

"Buffy." The sound of her whole name coming out of the mouth of this particular person, combined with the sudden change in the tone of her voice, brought Buffy fully out of her daze. She could see Faith recognizing that she had her attention, and thusly relaxing and masking her expression once again before speaking in a more familiar manner. "So what's new? Saved the world lately?"

"What are you doing here, Faith?" Her inflection was less than welcoming.

"What, can't a girl get some love? I never seem to get a warm welcome anywhere I go." The sentence held more emotion than she had intended. She compensated. "Just thought I'd drop by, see how my favorite Slayer was doing. Nice digs, by the way. Looks like you made the house bigger."

"Bigger and better. Xander did most of it. It was too small with the amount of Slayers we were getting. You might remember that." Her tone was bitter, but only in a way that would show if one already knew it was meant to be. It changed to curiosity. "How did you know we would still be here?"

"Oh, trust me, there are ghouls and goblins all over that know where you are. They just don't come knockin' at the door." Faith looked down at the floor for a moment, then back up. "How about a tour?"

"You already seem to have made yourself at home." Buffy raised an eyebrow and crossed her arms.

She smiled in a way only she could. "Hey, the room looked like the nicest so I figured it must be yours. Where else would I wanna lounge? I was just waiting, I didn't go through your panty drawer or anything." Her eyes lit up.

Buffy closed her eyes for a moment, in what could have been impatience or disbelief, opening them to fix the girl opposite her with a steely glare. "What do you want?"

Faith chose the only thought Buffy would be able to handle hearing. "Heard talk there's evil abrewin', figured I'd come by and help." Not exactly the truth. But that was Faith.

"I have plenty of capable Slayers."

Faith grinned. "I stumbled across my share. I'm sure you do a fine job of training them. But you know no one can compare to me." Joking cockiness. But underneath, Faith was bubbling with hidden anxiety. She hadn't known what to expect – though the harsher the reaction from Buffy, the more she was giving away without even realizing it.

"I can," Buffy shot back, not breaking eye contact.

Faith cocked her head. "That's what makes it so special." Her voice was a combination of sarcasm, wit and sexuality. As usual. Ignoring the comment and the expression in Faith's dark eyes, Buffy gave her a hard look.

"I think we're fine here, Faith. You can go off and disappear again. Really, it's fine." Her voice and face were tight, giving away emotion and yet not at the same time.

Something flickered in Faith's eyes and was gone. She spread her arms wide, choosing not to say what she truly wanted to and ignoring Buffy's digs at her that were far more personal than just Faith's absence. "Look, let's say I've had my fill of the globetrotting for now. I wanna help. I hear Buffy needs help, I come." She smiled sardonically and gave an exaggerated bow.

Buffy couldn't help but snort shortly with bitter amusement. "Yeah, that's what you're known for. Helping me."

"Look…" Faith's tone had switched dramatically, holding Buffy's attention. "I can tell you're not jumping for joy at the sight of me, but – I'm here. And I wanna help. Even if you don't want me to." That was enough for Faith, and the familiar side of her came back out. "And come on, you'd never turn me away, would you? I'm too pretty." Another smile and cock of the head.

Buffy rolled her eyes. "Pretty annoying." There was a pause that Buffy suspected was much more uncomfortable for her than for her counterpart. "You're not going to leave, are you?"

Faith shook her head. "Nope."

Buffy experienced an inner struggle for a very pregnant period of time during which Faith stood, waiting, looking around the room and kicking at the carpet with her feet. She tried to read the look on Buffy's face but gave up when it proved futile. The usual cocky mask she had carefully been keeping slipped momentarily as she thought about the situation – as she really looked at the woman before her, who she had not seen in almost three years. Buffy had a much older, even more mature look to her eyes, and her face, no longer the face of a young girl. She was still absolutely beautiful. The impact of this alone almost caused Faith's breath to catch. She was amazed she had kept it together this long. She knew she was asking for something Buffy may have figured she didn't have much right to ask for – for her own personal rasons. She was fully prepared to be rejected; she had had plenty of practice with it anyway. If Buffy refused to let her stay, she would find some other way to convince her, or hang around unseen. There was no way she was leaving, not now. No force on Earth could make her, not even the small but incredibly strong blonde in front of her.

Buffy tried to give Faith her steeliest, most heated gaze, not blinking. "You fuck up once and you're out of my house."

Faith nodded, picking up her bag. "So," she said flippantly, following Buffy out of the room, "Did you miss me?"

"There is a possibility you may have received mistaken or wrong information, Willow. While it may not be the case, I don't think we can rule that completely out, seeing as how we haven't found anything that could give reason for Buffy's life to be in danger." Giles looked at the young witch from his position at the table.

"I really don't think so, Giles. This psychic was a pretty seriously magical guy, I mean, I could feel it when I got near him. It was like… It was almost like when I went all addict-y with the magicks back in Sunnydale. He was the real deal." She paused, the expression on her face showing that there was something she was holding back. "Maybe… Maybe he was trying to warn me of something else, maybe – there's something else involved here that we're not seeing. I think – "

"Look what I found." Buffy walked purposefully into the room, cutting Willow's dialogue short. She was followed momentarily by Faith, who at first glance appeared extremely awkward, nervous and thusly far out of character for a second in time before quickly changing faces as she caught sight of the others in the room looking at her.

Willow, for her part, had been rendered speechless, stunned almost past the point one would think she should be. Her face held an unreadable expression. Giles, surprised as well, still managed to rise from his chair and walk toward Faith, something of a smile on his face.

"Faith."

"Hey, Giles. How's it goin'?" She half smiled, half grinned – the older man was glad to note that it reached her eyes. She had never held any dislike toward him.

"What are you doing here?" His tone was kind; curious.

She shrugged almost too forcefully. "Heard some nasties might be comin' around, figured I'd come help."

His brow furrowed somewhat, only for a second, before smoothing over. "You did? How?"

"You know. Demon talk. Always pick somethin' up. Heard ol' B here might be in some sorta trouble, so I decided I'd swing by. That is if nobody minds." She caught sight of Willow, realizing she still hadn't spoken. "What's up, Willow? No hugs?"

Willow seemed to snap back to reality. "Uh, sorry, I was just… Hi, Faith. It's been a while." She smiled. "Where ya been?"

"Off fighting the forces of darkness in pretty much every country and continent you could think of. Europe's still my favorite, though. Spent most of my time there."

Willow's eyes had become uncharacteristically piercing as she nodded. "Yeah. It's beautiful."

Faith nodded, then asked, "So what have you guys been up to?"

"Oh, you know… Redoing the house, research, training Slayers, research… Did I mention research?"

Faith laughed a little. "Yeah, you did. So what happened with everyone else? Are they still here, or…?"

"Robin's heading his own place over on the East Coast, and we've got a few others set up with people we met along the way, mostly after you left." There was an uncomfortable silence that quickly and easily settled in around the room. "Um, most of the core group is still here. We go out looking for Slayers, I can usually track them down using magic, and we bring them here or to one of the other locations, teach them the basics, see where they wanna go with it. We give them a choice; if they don't want to accept the responsibility, we send them on their way, but I keep magical tabs on everyone so I'll know if any of them get in trouble or decide to use their powers for other things." The discomfort grew even more, if possible, and this time Faith seemed the most affected as the words sunk into her. She shifted her feet, a deep look in her eye.

"Yeah, I uh…I remember you guys were trying to start that up." She cleared her throat, and there was silence once more.

"So," Buffy spoke up, having been quiet for long enough, "I guess we should alert everyone else to Faith's presence."

Faith left the room beside Buffy with unease, Willow and Giles staring after her.

"All I'm saying is, you have to be careful. It's a very delicate situation." Syrup dripped its way down his chin.

"You, uh – you have a little – " Dawn reached up to his face with a napkin. "Yeah, I get it. Waffles are delicate."

"No, I don't think you quite understand yet – "

"Hey guys," Buffy said, a very noticeable fake happiness to her voice.

"Hey Buff," Xander greeted her through a mouthful of Eggo, on which he promptly choked once he caught sight of Faith walking in after her.

"Faith!" Dawn said, a genuine smile coming to her face. "It's so good to see you!" She got up, walking over and hugging the Slayer, who returned the gesture. In the six months Faith was still around after the destruction of Sunnydale and the Hellmouth, she and Dawn had grown somewhat closer; Dawn had given Faith a chance and was quickly and easily both impressed and in awe of the older woman. It was the first time someone had ever made Faith feel good, in every sense of the word, about herself.

"Hey, little D, what's up? Not so little anymore."

"You say that every time you see me."

"Cause it's true." She grinned.

"So where have you been? Why are you back?" Her face quickly turned to one of intense displeasure. "There isn't another apocalypse is there?"

"All over, Europe mostly, came to help, and no, no apocalypse. As far as I know. I heard some things along the grapevine made me decide my time would best be spent back here."

"Anything bad?"

"Nah, don't worry about it." Faith waved her hand. She wasn't going to let anyone else get sucked into anything that was her, Buffy's, and the other Slayers' responsibility.

"I hear leather's really cheap in Italy," Xander piped up, having swallowed his monster bite of waffle.

Faith smirked, raising her eyebrows. "I know." She walked over to him, hitting him affably on the back. "So what's been up, X-man?"

"I'm enjoying a nice life of Cyclops vision and Hellmouth-y goodness, along with carpentering." His tone was sarcastic as he smiled.

It was at that moment that Cordelia entered the room, catching sight of Faith and not breaking her confident stride until she reached the coffee machine, seeming neither perturbed nor surprised, but rather almost satisfied with something only she knew.

"Well it's about time she showed up."

Chapter Twelve: Cleveland, Ohio - July 2003

The house seemed unassuming enough. It was not fit to look like something pulled from a horror movie, nor was it any sort of little house on the prairie. It was, in fact, something of a reminder of suburban middle-class, as if there might be a nice family with two children and a happy golden retriever living inside behind the plain off-white exterior. The only things amiss were that it was observably in need of some fixing up, and it was, for the most part, a ways from the rest of the inhabitants of town. That and the big yellow school bus filling the driveway.

Soft grass gave way beneath her feet, leading to a somewhat untidy porch in the way that there were loose boards, splintered wood and cobwebs if you looked hard enough. The steps gave a little as she ascended them, continuing her silent appraisal and recalling why she was here. She had been enjoying life just fine for the most part, reveling in great muck-evil Los Angeles with a brooding vampire and his anomalous friends; she had come to have the opinion that life didn't get much better than that after your awareness came to include all the monsters and creatures of the night that so many went blissfully oblivious of throughout their lives. Being asked to come here? Not her idea of a vacation.

She knocked on the door, unable to find anything resembling a doorbell, and let her gaze wander to the small split happening in the wood of the door, near the edge where the rusted hinges were settled. She could faintly make out the sounds of people fumbling on the other side, and then the door was pulled back to reveal an aged face she instantly recognized, though not one she had been expecting to see when thinking of with whom she would first end up making contact.

"Hi, Giles," she said cheerily, her happiness so fake that sarcasm was a much more likely base in her tone.

"Hello, Cordelia. It's been quite a long time. Been wondering when you would show up." His voice held nothing but sincerity, and some understandable awkwardness. He paused, curiosity causing his head to tilt slightly as he noticed something. "You cut your hair."

She nodded. "Yep. I take it Angel let you know I was coming?" Her mild annoyance as she said his name was almost completely masked.

"Yes, he did. He called a couple of days ago."

She sucked up what little unhappiness she had managed to still keep with her after her trek across the country and said as brightly as she could manage, "Well, aren't you gonna let a girl in?"

He practically jumped out of the way, pulling the door open wider. "Ah, yes, yes, of course, do come in."

She lugged the heavy suitcase over the threshold and, upon Giles' comment, said, "The rest is in the car." She didn't think that her rental had been big enough to fit all of her belongings. Though Angel had assured her this was only temporary, she had grown used to the man's habit of only going through with what he promised others half of the time, the other half full of him making excuses. She had made sure to take everything.

The interior of the house was better than the outside, if only for the fact that it was populated by furniture and people. It definitely needed a new paint job. Giles seemed to sense what she was thinking.

"Eh, Xander's – working on sprucing the place up. We only just bought it a couple of weeks ago, we're still getting settled."

"How many people do you have living here so far?" She looked up at the ceiling, at the staircase, and it was evident she was concerned about having her own space.

"Well, there's me, Buffy, Xander, Willow, a number of new Slayers, Faith – "

Cordelia's head whipped around to look at him. "Faith? She's living with you? Here?" Cordelia had been under the impression that the dark Slayer had done her duty and gone back to whatever meaningless existence she had occupied in prison beforehand. Giles gave her a look, and her tone became slightly less hysteric. "…Angel didn't mention that."

"I assure you there's nothing to be alarmed about, Cordelia. Faith is a very changed person since you last knew her, and I trust that you will not antagonize her during your stay here."

She half-feigned astonishment. "Hey, don't go pointing fingers at me. I never said I was going to do anything, all I said was nobody felt the need to inform me of anything. I was just told to come here, like it didn't even matter. Who cares what Cordelia wants? ‘Go to Cleveland. Help the Slayer. They could use your help over there'!" Unaware she had begun loudly ranting and violently gesturing until she finished, she took a few deep breaths, trying to calm herself. She met his eyes and offered a halfhearted apology. "Sorry."

After recovering from his momentary stun, Giles replied, "It's quite all right, let me – let me show you where you'll be staying." He walked toward the stairs, expecting her to follow.

"Giles," she said, stopping him. "Don't forget about the rest of my luggage."

"So Angel thought it would be in your - and our – best interest to come help us fight the big nasties on the Hellmouth of the East?" Buffy looked at Cordelia across the kitchen. "I mean that's basically what he told us, in slightly different wording."

"Well, not so much help fight in the physical sense as help you with my visions and mumbo jumbo like that." She thought for a moment. "Though I could really let off some steam, so physical brutality doesn't sound too bad." She nursed her cup of coffee, relaxing down into the chair.

"You get visions now?" Buffy sounded almost incredulous, her eyebrows raising close to her hairline.

"Yeah, I'm just like you." Her sarcasm was palpable. "A superhero. My favorite part is when I get blinding pain. I'll trade you any time."

"You didn't want to come out here, did you?" Willow stated more than asked softly from her stance by the counter.

Cordelia scoffed and rolled her eyes. "No, I didn't get my fill of Hellmouth goodness in Sunnydale, so I thought this would be perfect!" Realizing how much bitterness she had allowed to show, she adjusted her tone to sound rightfully angry toward Angel rather than the people around her, though the idea of living with them wasn't exactly thrilling in its own right. "I just…wish he could've at least acted like he cared what I thought about it, you know?"

"Well, at least you'll only be here for a little while, right? Until we get our footing or whatever it was he said?" Willow offered sympathetically.

Cordelia made another face, looking away. "Yeah, well, we'll see."

By the third month of Cordelia's residence with the Scooby gang, she had noticed quite a few things that had escaped her before, or that were entirely new, borne in the four years she had been away. Besides obvious points such as Xander's lack of a left eye, Dawn and Andrew's presence, and the number of newly called Slayers, she was also picking up on different things that were probably, most likely, not meant to be overtly realized. Like the way Xander would sometimes look at Buffy when she was preoccupied, fear, nervousness and excitement traversing his features; the way Dawn would look at Xander, or once or twice even Andrew, most likely out of the lack of positive male attention she received; Willow and Kennedy's unspoken despondency, entirely unnoticeable to anyone else; the growing relationship between Buffy and Faith, painfully obvious to her though she was almost certain no one else could see quite what she saw, nor would they believe it if they could. She attributed it all to her sixth sense – the visions – and the fact that she had the least to do of anyone in the household, besides when they tried to coerce her to participate in research or even once or twice patrolling. So she was left with ample time and opportunity to entertain herself with the lives of others around her.

"Here you go, Buff," Xander's gaze would inadvertently drop to Buffy's cleavage as he handed her food, a book, a weapon; linger too long on her figure as she walked away; find himself at a loss for words if she caught him without a shirt on, or he saw her in a breathless sweat after working out.

Dawn's gaze would travel quickly up and down Xander, once in a while Andrew in his awkwardness, rather than remain steady at face or eyes; she would become very subtly flustered if she happened to bump into or brush up against them. Once there had been a boy in the house, a friend or boyfriend or brother of one of the Slayers, and Dawn had nearly lost her mind. Cordelia had had to austerely stop herself from laughing out loud several times.

Willow would sometimes walk into a room with a sadness bringing her eyes and the sides of her mouth downward, practically her whole body appearing tired, after quietly muffled sounds would transpire from upstairs, two voices secured away in private. Kennedy would once in a while allow the same expression to grace her features; though both women would promptly and skillfully mask themselves when encountering anyone else.

Buffy would from time to time sneak furtive glances at her counterpart, clearly not wanting to be caught and noticeably nervous. Once in a while, when passing something between them or merely passing each other, there would be a brush of material, or of skin, that would trigger a visible reaction in both of them. Sometimes, when they chose to move their sparring activities to the backyard rather than the basement, one would pin down the other for just a bit too long, with just a slight different expression, breathing too heavily for trained Slayers who were used to vicious combat. They had re-established their old banter, if not at a heavier level than before; using jokes and looks that pushed gently at the edges of too far, saying things that, had anyone not known them well enough, would have made one assume something entirely different than reality. And there was the lack of personal space, the long glances that were too long and too filled to be random and inconsequential, the extreme awkwardness or ballooned brashness – depending on who it was – at stumbling onto one another just out of the shower, just out of the bathroom in the morning wearing little to no clothing, or other situations where privacy and restriction were intruded upon.

Cordelia got an uproarious kick out of all of it. It was almost enough to soothe her resentment at being sent out to Cleveland.

Chapter Thirteen

Vital consciousness was not one of Faith's outstanding qualities, a fact she was, ironically, more than aware of; however, when night veiled itself over the world, and the rules changed, she was acutely perceptive of everything around her much as an animal would be. Every fiber in her body was tuned in to this period of time, those hours when other kinds of animals came out to play. Her time fending for herself in the unknown reaches of the globe had only honed this into a finer skill.

So when, out for the Slayer's version of a nightly stroll, she witnessed something she wanted to believe she had not, the back of her mind was telling her it was a definite actuality, and thus came over her the startlingly familiar but long forgotten feeling she thought she had left behind, a shock to her system.

"Do you think that I really don't know you?" He walked closer to her, making his way around a large tombstone and fixing his nearly black eyes with deadly precision onto her; both chilling and scorching at the same time. His voice was low and dangerous. "What you came here for?"

She froze for an imperceptible moment, going completely unnoticed by the individual in front of her. "Asher," she said as she stepped back, annoyed; her eyes, though, still reacting from his words, belied her. "We can play ‘scary vampire' some other time."

His face dropped for only a moment, an instantaneous frown creasing his features, all trace of menace gone. Then a devilish grin spread wide, his tone becoming playful. "But I thought you liked that game."

She glanced off to somewhere in the dark behind him, her voice coming out weary. "I'm just tired. We can save the fun for another time." She paused, almost as if remembering something. "Why do you always insist on following me home anyway? Someone could see you."

His jet-black hair fell into his eyes as he looked down at her, that same grin still on his face. "Well someone needs to protect you from the ghouls and goblins of the night." He almost sounded like an insolent teenage boy as he spoke. "And so what if they do?"

She stepped into his personal space, looking up at him and leaving mere inches between their faces. Her tone dripped sarcastic sweetness. "Then you would just be a big scary vampire, and you know what I do to them. And – all the other ‘ghouls and goblins.'"

He smiled, grabbing her and pulling her to him, pushing his face the rest of the distance to hers, a lustful hunger overtaking him. She gripped onto his dark clothing for a few seconds before ripping away from him.

"That's all you get for the rest of the night. Be a good boy." She looked at him, then turned and walked off, his potent gaze following her.

Faith stared in fascination as Buffy walked away from what was so obviously a vampire, something boiling in the pit of her stomach and forming familiar knots. Her heart sped up and she couldn't look away from the image of the petite blonde illuminated by the powerful moonlight, now moving briskly through the dark as the creature behind her stood and continued to ogle openly.

Fucking vampires.

As Faith remained, motionless, frozen to her entirely conspicuous spot, everything around the center of her attention seemed to blur and fuzz out to black, leaving all of her senses keenly attuned to the only other being around who was currently alive; until her lingering gaze was suddenly and abruptly returned.

Buffy had spotted her. She had probably been somewhat aware of her presence the entire time, the way that Faith had been partially aware that Buffy was somewhere there before she saw her. Something passed between the two of them, the seconds hanging in the air and seeming to last much longer than they probably did, before Buffy broke contact and resumed her walk, in some unknown direction. Something welled up in the other Slayer's chest.

Faith startled herself.

She slid heavily into a seat at the kitchen table, paying no attention to anything but the window on the far wall in front of her. She was trying desperately not to think about anything, not to feel anything…to, in a manner of speaking, simply blink out of existence. Therefore, she did not notice anyone who may have also been occupying the room.

"So - met the toy?"

Faith's head shot to the side to seek the owner of the voice, her dark eyes quickly settling on Cordelia by the sink. She said nothing; she had no words that made any sense, and even if she did she would not have chosen to have them heard by her. She let her intense gaze fall down to the tabletop.

An infinitesimal smirk played on the other woman's lips as she gave Faith a knowing look. "I figured you would feel that way."

She bent down low, seductively, the slit in her long skirt revealing porcelain skin. "Do you need any more encouragement?" She gave the dark vampire a sideways grin, her head tilting playfully to the side.

"No," he bowed just a little mockingly, his jet-black hair falling into his eyes as he looked up at her, "You have my service."

A frightening smile broke across her face. "Good."

The usual quiet and calm of the household – at this particularly late hour – was broken only by the muffled, thudding footfalls of a young woman, nearly as dark as the house she was aimlessly walking through, and the slight but discernible sloshing of liquid inside the half-empty bottle she carried limply at her side.

She found her way to a hallway where she was vaguely certain no one was sleeping, and so chose this in her half-inebriated state as the place to settle onto the floor, sliding down the wall slowly.

She stared at the wall opposite her, as if trying to gain some sort of information from it, trying to read something imprinted upon it that only she could see. Her eyes were slightly drooping, and had one looked at her they would have thought she was falling asleep. But she was wide awake, and had no chance of sleeping at the moment; not with the cacophony of thoughts raining through her head incessantly, assuring her she was not resting peacefully any time soon. They were merging and melting into one another, surely a side effect of the alcohol she had gladly and heartily consumed until her stomach burned just a little too much; so she was not exactly able to identify any one thought and perhaps get rid of it by solving the riddle that was presently her mind. At this point she was just blankly staring at nothing, thinking of, truly, nothing, because she couldn't tell what her brain was trying to say to her – all she was aware of was the aching feeling inside her chest and in her bones, and the burning from the alcohol.

"Faith?"

Her head whipped up too swiftly for the amount of liquor controlling it, and she gripped it with her free hand, wincing in pain. She heard her name again and peered up, still holding her head.

Willow, up late as she usually found herself doing research, seemed to experience an inner conflict before resolving to sit down next to the other woman, giving her plenty of space. When Faith said nothing and barely looked at her again, she spoke softly in the way of speaking that was always purely Willow.

"…Hi."

Faith stifled a burp, now gazing without seeing at the trim down near the hardwood floor. "Hey."

Willow paused for a very pregnant period of time, unsure of what was the smartest move in the situation – maybe Faith did this regularly and it was nothing to be troubled by - before venturing, offering the kind amity she was known for. After all, Faith could be burdened with something just like anyone else. "…Wanna talk?"

Now Faith looked at her, straight in the eyes – more because when she lifted her head that's what she ended up being level with than anything else – and Willow could clearly see the emotion dwelling behind her weary look. She turned her head back to face the wall, taking a swig from her bottle and licking her lips. Willow was thinking of something else to say in the longer and longer silence; then -

"Have you ever… Ever just……not known anything?" She spoke not weakly, not searching, but rather as a husky, casual statement – yet her true sentiments were very obvious to someone such as Willow. "Like… Like you think you know something, and then," she laughed incredulously, dejectedly, "and then you just get thrown right on your ass…" She was still staring at nothing on the floor, at something no one could see but her, and for just a moment, her face crumpled and fleetingly revealed the ordinary, normal, feeling person underneath. Then there was Faith again, though the look of sarcastic, dry laughter had not left her. She took another swig. "Or maybe you didn't know anything in the first place." Pause. "I think… I think we just see what we wanna see, you know? None of this bullshit about fate, or destiny, or what we need, or…" She trailed off, still not looking at the woman beside her who was so intently focused on her now. Willow was amazed at the utter grief her bitter smile held.

Willow couldn't find words; she had no idea what was wrong with Faith, and she was realistically not expecting to be given any enlightening information from the woman so well known for keeping her guard up at all times. Though – that rule was already breaking up a bit at the moment. "Faith… I…"

More drinking, a shake of her head. "It'll protect you as long as you wear it." She laughed again, that cruel, miserable noise. "Protect you from swords, and bullets, and daggers, and everything." She looked down, fiddling with the top of the bottle. "Not from…"

Willow, utterly perplexed, looked as such and tried to come up with something to say. She opened her mouth a few times before words found their way out. "Did you… Did you – see something?" She paused. "Did something happen?"

Faith's hands stopped in their fidgeting; she seemed to stop everything altogether, for just a moment of breathless silence… And then the bottle was back at her mouth. She wiped her chin; looked over at Willow, moving her eyes around her face. She had not become particularly close to the woman in her short stay after they left Sunnydale; but they had reached a solid ground of partial understanding and something almost resembling respect between the two of them. There was certainly no bad blood left lying around. And, if Faith was truthful to herself – which in her current state was just a subconscious bunching together of thoughts to form an action she may or may not later regret – Willow was possibly the most, or probably the only, trustworthy person she knew of, regardless of their relationship; however, the alcohol may have been influencing what she may normally have considered unwise decisions. She turned her head away again, her brow furrowing.

They sat on the floor, neither speaking at first. Willow, unbeknownst to the Slayer beside her, took on the same awkward, reticent expression she had when first informed of their newest demon problem. Faith took another drink.

Europe - July 2005

Willow had been dying to see Europe – for it was part of the world beyond the limits of Sunnydale – for a long time, and now that she was finally here, in the land of the Romans and Emperors and Greeks and conquerors, she practically didn't know what to do with herself. It was her first time in this particular continent – no doubt she would return – and there was more to see and do than she could have imagined, especially for someone such as herself. She had already stumbled across several magic shops that rivaled even the best she had found in California or Ohio – which, by the way, seemed like completely different universes. She was, in all manners of speaking, content.

At least she had been until she had rounded a corner and came upon something she had hoped she never would; something she hoped had been buried in the past, put away and never to be dredged up again from the depths of personal hells.

A vampire Slayer gone down the wrong path once was enough. After seeking forgiveness, being lucky enough to receive it, paying the consequences and choosing a new path, it was almost impossible to think that one could go astray again – but it seemed as though that was what had happened. The one meant to protect was the enemy – again.

No.

She could clearly see her, surrounded by what had to be four demons, if not some other variation of evil entities, walking away from a very dead young man, his body bloody and limp and thrown in an alley. The group of them were laughing uproariously and already on the hunt for another life they could rob.

Emotion welled up within Willow so strong it surprised even her; she had thought for so long that this woman was changed, that she was no longer that short-lived criminal of her youth, no longer the result of personal demons feasting on her soul. She had believed in her; she had almost come to trust in her.

No.

If she had looked just a little bit harder, if she hadn't let the immediate image be so easily and quickly seared to her mind, she would have seen the look of torment on Faith's face, the glassy eyes, and the despair that showed she had taken no part in what was done – that she was trapped.

What remained of the liquor sloshed quietly with the velocity of the person who held it as she entered the bedroom, let the door close and sat down heavily on the end of the bed. Willow had told her earlier in the day that she could stay in this room; it was, after all, her room – or it had been before she left. Willow said they had just left it as a spare; she had gotten a funny kind of manner when she told her, but Faith just shrugged it off.

A deep sigh escaped her, as her eyes dropped to her hand wrapped around the bottle, watching the moonlight dance across it. She briefly thought of all the veins beneath her skin, all the blood that coursed through the winding mesh of intricate inner channels and tubes and passages every second; her life, what kept her human… Did that even make her human? Did being human make her anything at all? She imagined what would happen if all of her blood was replaced with alcohol. Maybe then she wouldn't be human. Maybe if she filled herself with something that much, maybe she wouldn't want anything else.

"Don't cry," a soft, sinful voice breathed. Faith immediately experienced alarm and confusion in the same instance, realizing quite quickly that her eyes were wet and her heart was trying wildly to escape her ribs. Her third sensation was anger at herself.

She swiftly brought her face up to the sight in front of her, recognition lighting up her dark eyes. The woman's black hair framed her face, hanging down and blending with the fluid black outfit she wore. Her skirt waved elegantly behind her as she stepped closer to Faith.

"Why are you drinking, Faithy?" she cooed with a wicked sweetness that unsettled Faith even despite the amount of drink in her system. "What's wrong?" She stepped again closer to the young woman, a malevolent smile on her face as she cocked her head.

Faith jumped up and backed away, shaking her head, the bottle forgotten on the comforter. "Get away from me." Her spirit was too tired, too despondent to fight – especially against her. She just wanted to sleep. This was not what she needed. She hated this woman. This…thing. For reasons she couldn't even explain.

"You know I could make it all go away." She raised her sculpted eyebrows. "I could take it all away in a second." She reached out to touch Faith's face, and the Slayer managed to fly back as if burned.

"Don't touch me." Her voice was much more dangerous this time, the venomous words spoken through tightly clenched teeth; but the woman just laughed at her, inflaming her anger. Her head felt hot and confused, and the last thing she could focus on was battling evil, or anything at all; but the one thing she could discern clearly was that she did not want this being touching her, or remaining anywhere near her. She wished she could block her out.

"Would you like it better if I looked like this?" The woman began to shape shift, transforming into something, but before she could finish Faith had let out a shout that was just short of being a scream of rage and lashed out at her violently, finding sudden strength. The woman vanished into the air, leaving Faith to strike out at nothing and almost toppling over.

She collapsed onto the bed, slightly shaking, her breath ragged and her eyes tightly shut. She willed her mind to go blank with what little power she still possessed, to push the overwhelming thoughts and sensations out. She punched the mattress, once, twice, kicked out at nothing, and then grabbed the bottle and quickly downed what was left.

Chapter Fourteen

She didn't know why she was coming back here. There was a plethora of other cemeteries and creepy dark places in Cleveland where she could patrol. She had already tried reasoning with herself that this was the closest to the house, and she was lazy – but that would just be a blatant lie, one she couldn't even bring herself to believe. Her? Lazy? Please.

Perhaps on another night she might have felt impartial and detached from what she was doing – not so much in the way that she didn't care, but more in the way of less than what she was feeling now. There was a distinct vibe running through her, informing her that maybe this night was different, or this cemetery was different; something was off, and it was messing with her equilibrium. She stifled an involuntary twitch, reaching down to reassuringly feel the wood of the stake slightly sticking out of her pocket.

She moved around a few headstones, weaving her way across the grass, not entirely sure on what she was expecting. She kept her eyes trained on the dark areas all around her, senses alert and ready.

She realized he was there moments before he appeared from the shadows, very suddenly, and would have driven the stake home in an instant if it hadn't been for the familiarity of his face, and the recognition that impacted her upon seeing it.

It was the vampire she had witnessed Buffy with the other night – the one both of them had yet to bring up any time they were within possible speaking distance of each other. She didn't know if it was fear, or anger, or maybe an entire lack of caring on Buffy's part that meant she didn't even deem it important enough to be talked about. It seemed more avoided than the plague.

He was not handsome. He wasn't even good-looking, by Faith's standards. Though she certainly was biased. She hated the way his hair fell in his face, and the way he seemed to try far too hard to appear and give new definition to the term ‘dark.' The first word that popped up in her head, besides the swears and insults, was wannabe. She almost wanted to scoff.

"Hi there." He waved at her, though his eyes and tone purposefully belied him.

Faith crossed her arms, barely containing a sigh. "And why am I not staking you right now?" She would love nothing better. She could practically feel the stake in her hand already. She didn't want to hear what he had to say; it would be nothing but head games and malicious stupidity anyway, designed to confuse, distract, and wound.

He shrugged. "Beats me. It could be because…" he smiled wickedly, "I'm Buffy's current playmate and killing me might upset her feelings." He said the last words mockingly, then paused. "But why would you care about that?"Clearly amused; if he had any idea what his words were triggering he might be in uproarious hilarity.

She shook her head slightly. "I'm so not in the mood for this."

The vampire put a hand to his chest as if flustered. "I don't believe I introduced myself." He held out his hand, smiling in the sinful way only those on the darker side of civilization could. "I'm Asher."

She stared at him, not moving. "Some day. I'd really love to understand. Why Buffy always goes for the guys with the weirdest fucking names." So far she was not impressed. Though she rarely ever was. She highly doubted this ass would make her list.

He gave mock offense. "Well that's not very polite. I'd never say you had a weird name."

"You don't know it."

He held out his hands suddenly, his eyes tightly shut as if he was receiving a vision. "Wait! Wait! I'm getting something! Uuuuuhhhh – " he snapped his fingers as his eyes opened, "Faith!"

Her eyes narrowed as her suspicion and anger grew. "You know what? I don't even care how you know that. Why don't you just get out of my face and I promise I won't give in to my more primal urges. Agreed?" Why had she come back here? What had she been expecting?

He leered at her, more amused than ever, a grin nearly splitting his face. "And what, pray tell, would those be?"

Faith was practically snarling. "What. Do you. Want?" Why was he bothering her? What purpose did it serve? Did he do this to everyone who walked through the goddamned cemetery? She doubted it. It certainly couldn't have been the way he picked up Buffy. She wasn't sure how much longer she could contain herself; her temper was especially high when it came to evil things, especially evil things who fucked with her.

He smiled cheekily, opening his arms wide. "To be loved!"

She had had enough. "That's it." She ran at him, thinking only of how nice it would be to watch his ashes fall, but somehow not able to bring herself to grab her stake.

He quickly dodged her, jumping out of the way. "Oh no no! Our precious Buffy wouldn't like that too much, would she?"

"Why don't I just tell her what an enormous shit-faced asswipe you are? Or remind her of the fact that your face and your maturity level are on par with those of, say, a 14-year-old." She couldn't believe for any amount of time that Buffy ever saw this side of him; she would never accept it. Either that or she had changed much more than she let on. Did all the dicks of the world save their impiety just for her?

He put both hands to his chest. "Ooo, that one stung."

"What do you want?!" she shouted, her irritation flaring. She still didn't understand why this jackass had chosen her to zero in on with his annoying insanity.

For his part, the vampire maintained complete – and maybe forced – calm. "I believe I already told you." He sighed and looked down at the ground, then back up at her. "But, I guess if you want another explanation, I could say that I'm working for a high-level demon who wants you to reconsider your career options. Buuut that's just no fun. I just really love pissing you off." He smiled joyfully. "It's just so easy!"

Her tone was incredibly blunt, and completely devoid of any emotion. "What the fuck does Buffy see in you?" His comment had rolled right on by her, as she found herself not caring so much about whatever gibberish he was spouting anymore; more than anything, in fact, she wanted to figure out why, how, this idiot had possibly managed to woo the Slayer.

He faked concentration, then answered. "A big cock?"

Her hands involuntarily balled into fists, and her breathing quickened. Fuck what Buffy would think. She was ready to kill him. And if she couldn't kill him, she'd kill something else. Maybe go find one of his friends. Or all of his friends. How would you like that?

His eyes lit up, and he spoke slowly and meaningfully. "Now why would that bother you?" He was absolutely delighted with what he had pulled out of her.

She took a deep breath, steadying herself as best she could manage, trying to flip his comment on him, ignoring with impressive force what felt like lava raging through her. She was focused on turning his own mindfuck against him. "Question is, why am I so important to you?"

He offered a laugh. "My dear, my dear, you've got it all wrong. You're just my pick of the night because, well, frankly, there's no one else around. And I could sense you a mile away. And anyway you started it. I was very polite, I even offered to shake hands. But no, no, you had to go and start insulting me when I was just showing good manners."

She was suddenly enlightened by a thought, her eyes narrowed in partial understanding as she saw him from a new angle, one that made her feel much more in control. "You know, I'm starting to think you're just a tool for Buffy." She lit up with satisfaction at having figured it out. "You know, something to uh…pass the time? Fill the hole? Play with when bored until bored again?" She grinned excitedly upon seeing his look of mockingly sardonic happiness falter. "Bet she doesn't give a thought to you, not even when you two are gettin' hot and heavy." She found her familiar cockiness that had been lost somewhere in the contemptuous conversation.

Finally, his mask of derisiveness was crumbling. She had made him angry; she had found his sore spot. He scowled at her, his teeth showing. "Yeah, like she ever fucking thinks about you."

It didn't even faze her, not now that she had him. "So not my point." Along with her sudden illumination came the thought, the realization, that Buffy may have been the entire reason he even approached her. But that left an even bigger ‘why' to be explained.

He seemed more relaxed, having apparently thought of something else to throw at her, to take the attention and malice off of him. "What were you doing out there on your travels? Your big adventure?"He hopped up onto a nearby tombstone, full of new vigor. "Did you slay lots of evildoers? Fuck a lot of foreigners?" He looked down at her, smirking evilly in the sick way that made her want to twist his neck, and she could just sense what was coming. "Kill anyone?"

Her initial curiosity at how he seemed to know more than he should about her was overtaken by the rush of heady emotion she fought back at his last words, and she found herself suddenly uncertain of what to say. She couldn't think straight. "Why do you think you know so much about me?"

He jumped down, landing directly in front of her. "Because I do." He walked closer. "I know how you think. What you do. What you want." He looked her straight in the eyes, and she saw nothing. Nothing she would ever wish for.

She had the stake pointed at his chest in a breath's time, the unforgiving tip pressed against his shirt beneath the dark jacket. "Who the fuck are you?" She knew he posed no threat. She knew she was more powerful, and if she wanted, he could be dead in a pile at her feet before her next heartbeat. But there were things welling up inside of her now, and he was the cause. She pushed the stake in harder, and it easily cut through the fabric to touch the cold skin underneath.

He shrugged, entirely unfazed by her action, his smug self-confidence back in place. "Nobody. Just wondering what it is you want." He got closer to her face – too close – and whispered harshly. "Did you like watching him die?"

"Game over." She shoved roughly past him and walked swiftly away, leaving him grinning after her.

Cleveland, Ohio - September 2003

Faith had been drinking; that much was obvious, if not by the nearly empty bottle in her hand, then by the glassy eyes and too emotional communication. She didn't do this often – as far as anyone knew – but when she did, she usually had a reason. She was currently sitting on the front steps with an unreadable expression.

She looked away from Buffy, at first seeming completely impassive. "Can I ask you something?" She paused, then continued without getting an answer, though she knew what it would have been. "Why did you always accept Spike?"

"What?"

"Spike was a vampire." She stated it matter-of-factly.

The blonde Slayer was immediately defensive, uncertain – yet not – of what was coming. "I know."

"And he wasn't like Angel. I mean, he didn't have a fucking soul, not when you decided he was good enough to sleep with, and keep around, good enough to trust…" Her voice broke at the word, and she paused for a moment. The alcohol was inhibiting her from keeping her emotions at bay. "He was fucking EVIL," another unnaturally high crack, "and you could still accept him more than me. More than you ever did for me. It was like – like everything with me was always dark. It was always serious, and unacceptable, and frightening to you… And I was too much for you to handle because you wanted evil to be evil and good to be good, and there couldn't be any gray areas. And – well, fuck, that's just what I am, isn't it?"

"Faith… It's complicated." She should have been lashing out, defending herself, but for some reason she didn't.

Faith's mind was telling her to stop, that this wasn't the time or place, but it was fuzzed out by the feeling in her chest. "Yeah. Yeah, I bet it is. He's evil, he's undead, not to mention a Slayer killer; I'm a vampire Slayer, trying so hard to do the right thing, to – to do what you want me to, and the one time I fail – the one time I needed help, you couldn't be bothered. I was on your side, Buffy, I was one of the good guys! And you couldn't trust me, couldn't believe in me, couldn't…"

Buffy was rendered completely speechless for a moment. She hadn't thought – or maybe had kept herself from thinking all this time – that this would ever come up again, that her past with Faith – the far and bittersweet past – would still be dredged up and thrown in her face. That Faith was human, and still felt her scars. She found herself blinking back tears she hadn't realized were there and wasn't sure why they were, or even what emotion they were borne from. "Faith… It was more than that… Things with Spike were…were complicated, it was – "

"Stop. Using. That word."

Buffy let out a deep breath, thinking of what to say. She didn't want to be having this conversation, didn't want to be doing this now – but Faith wanted it, maybe even needed it. "I needed to believe in him, because I wanted to think that I could change someone, that someone like that could be changed… I cared about him… And – and when it first started it wasn't about that anyway, it was com – " she caught herself, " – confusing, I was – I didn't know what I wanted, or – how to fill this giant hole I had in myself. I was looking in all the wrong places, and – Spike happened to be in one of those places."

"And after that?" Her tone was searching.
She sounded defeated. "You weren't around."

"Would it have been different if I was? You hated me when I went to jail. You never would've been ready to forgive me, especially when Loverboy was there to distract you."

Buffy's voice was soft. "Faith… What are you looking for?"

The other woman shook her head, looking away. She took a moment in answering. "…It just really sucks that there was something – that bad about me that even when I was good…I wasn't worthy of anyone's faith." She laughed bitterly at the unintentional pun.

Buffy thought about her next words; though they were simple, they were sincere. "…It can change. You know it can."

Faith looked her deeply in the eyes. "What if my faith's broken?"

Faith had resisted the very strong urge to raid the house for liquor once more, instead settling for punching a sizeable hole in a tree outside and upsetting a large number of small woodland creatures. She had then retired to her bedroom, making sure to silently evade the few who were still up late in the house. Once the door was closed, she fell heavily onto the bed, very much aware of how familiar the situation was to the one she had experienced a few nights ago. Please don't let it mean anything please don't let it mean anything please don't let it…

"Faith," a voice said slowly and wickedly sweet from the other side of the room.

Fuck.

She tried to steel herself as best she could, prepared for what was about to come. This woman – demon – was not the thing she wanted to deal with tonight. At least this time she was sober. She mustered up her courage quickly, focusing all the mixed unpleasant emotions she was feeling on the thing in front of her. "Do you have a tracking device on me or something? Or like, a light that blinks when I'm alone in this bedroom?"

The woman smiled, and Faith's face involuntarily twitched. "Faith, I thought by this point you would be happy to see me."

"Fat chance."

Her tone slid out deep and rich. "I can see you, Faith. I can see straight through you. Into your core."

"Hey." She put her hands up. "I'm not into that."

The woman laughed, looking at her with appreciation. "I knew someone like you once. Much more unruly than yourself. She turned out to be a fine example."

Faith felt something like disgust, mostly at the fact that she had no idea what she was talking about and therefore figured it could be anything. "Of what?"

The question was ignored as if it had never been asked. "Faith, do you ever wonder what you could do with your talents? Your gifts?"

Faith rolled her eyes. "Okay, look, I really don't wanna hear it, all right? I don't want any part of whatever it is you're trying to get me to do. Really. Just… Go away. Twice was enough. I don't like surprises." Nothing would please her more than to have this woman gone. She had enough problems inside her head.

The demon smiled confidently. "Wouldn't you like to get him back? For what he said?"

Faith's head snapped to glare at her, though she was fully aware the woman was grasping at anything she could. "I can take care of that just fine, thanks. I don't need any bewitching." Indeed, she could handle that situation all by herself, and take full pleasure in doing it. Eventually.

"Oh, but things are so much easier when you don't have rules to follow. Consequences. You're free."She paused, and Faith remained silent, looking away. "Remember what that feels like?"

The Slayer let no emotion slip out, even as a series of past images, events and sensations ran painfully through her mind. She focused on the wall and lamp that were in her current line of vision, determined not to let this woman win. "I don't care."

"The carelessness, the pure liberty of it; the freedom from righteousness, and morality, and pain – "

No… No, no, there was no such thing as freedom from anything. She knew that. There couldn't even be freedom from this bitch, let alone any other plight of the universe. "Stop. Get out."

Her voice remained the same, enticing and charming. "Faith. Don't you want the power to have what you want?"

"Stop it."

"You could just take what you wanted. Isn't that what you used to say? Want, take, have? You could have it, Faith, you could have it all… You could have – "

"I could get you to leave? Cause that would be a wicked superpower." She willed herself to stay composed, finding a shred of her normal confidence prompted by the intense anger and annoyance this woman was causing in her. She couldn't give in, she couldn't be weak. That was what this thing wanted.

"You know what else you'd be free of?" She paused dramatically, and Faith just knew she didn't want to hear what was about to come. "Guilt." Despite herself, the young woman let visible emotion cross her face. No. Her chest began to ache worse than she could remember. "It'd be gone. You'd never have to feel it. Never have to live with it. And other things… Like compassion, forgiveness, love…" Faith winced, "…You'd never have to feel them. Or care about them. Or deal with them."

At that point, Faith stood, looking the woman dead in the eye for the first time throughout the unbearable conversation. Forgiveness. Now that was something she wanted, the one thing she had wanted more than anything in the world, more than anything in her entire unpleasant life – and that… That was something she had gotten. She felt invigorated with renewed strength, remembering herself, her past, and what she had learned from her own mistakes. What the consequences that this woman thought were so great to be free of had taught her. What they had done for her. Not to mention other things that she did want to feel – that she truly craved to keep inside her. Her voice was clear and steady, and signaling with finality the end of the exchange. "Maybe I wanna fucking deal with them. Now get. Out."

The woman looked back at Faith, boring into her, looking for something. The piercing gaze did not affect Faith, as she stood strong and firm. The woman smiled before disappearing with a poisonous laugh that rang in Faith's ears, echoing around the room.

She crumpled back to the bed. Now that the pressure was gone, she felt completely and totally drained, her sudden strength ebbing away just as suddenly. Why was this happening?Why her? Did cosmic energies decide to line up and create shit piles just for her to jump over? She took a deep breath, searching desperately for some semblance of calm or peacefulness – she had never found much, and this certainly wasn't going to be the time she would. She breathed in the scent of the comforter, and lay back against the pillows. She looked at the empty space where the woman had been standing. She could not keep doing this. She only had so much strength within her.

Chapter Fifteen

Faith busied herself with washing the dishes, giving her something to do at least with her hands if she couldn't distract her mind from its persistent current of unrestrained and normally buried thought. As she watched the bubbles foam up around her wrists, trying to focus on the shiny little rainbows captured within, she realized how absurd it was that she was using bubbles to engross her brain in something not so damaging to her psyche. Not to mention the sudden startling image of her as a housewife with an apron on, pleasantly and happily doing kitchen chores while the sun streamed in and the birds sang outside. She preferred the whirlpool of confusion.

"Faith?"

She jumped – more like spasmed, her hands shooting out in front of her and spilling soapy water onto the counter while her heart did a painful, squeezing somersault in her chest. She mentally berated herself for being so obliviously lost in her mind. She cleared her throat. "Yeah?"

Buffy's voice was tentative, as though she herself were not certain of what she was saying. "There's a new girl that just came today, and – there's only your bedroom left, and when you were gone it was just an extra bedroom, and we don't have any more bedrooms, so she needs yours." She paused, seeming incredibly unsure whether or not to continue speaking. Eventually, she did. "…If you want, you can stay in my room."

Faith, while at first giving Buffy her full attention – mostly because she had given her a heart attack – had gradually, as the other woman spoke, loosened back up and returned to her task as she listened, her striking features softening into an amused expression. Now she grinned as Buffy finished. "You just used the word ‘bedroom' three times in one sentence, B." She shook her head, giving mock disapproval. "Bad grammar." Her eyes twinkled as she looked at the blonde.

Buffy at first didn't respond, realizing she had indeed spoken like an idiot, before finding words. She made sure to keep her face a mask of coolness. "Well, anyway, the offer stands. I figured you might want somewhere to sleep besides the floor."

Faith turned partially toward her, putting a wet hand up to her chest in faux astonishment. "You would let me sleep in your bed? Are you sure the sheets won't spontaneously combust or something?"

Buffy closed her eyes momentarily, trying to gather her thoughts. "I'm not even sure what that means, but… There you go. That's all I got." She threw her hands up in finality.

Faith raised her eyebrows, positive that the other woman was merely doing this out of some strange sort of guilt or dire need to do all kinds of right by other human beings – and that she certainly did not want anyone sharing her bed, no matter what she said – especially Faith. "Don't worry, you don't have to throw yourself upon the stake. I'm not picky. The couch'll do just fine."

Buffy seemed completely caught off-guard, something Faith had not expected. As well, Faith's response was not expected, and so Buffy had to take a moment to realize what she had said. She had wholly expected her to take full advantage of being offered the opportunity to share not just a room, but a bedwith the other Slayer – and she had turned it down. Buffy's voice came out sounding almost disappointed, if not for the mere fact that she had been wrong in her assumptions. "…Are you sure?"

Faith had to forcibly stifle a laugh. Was Buffy that surprised that she hadn't said yes? The idea was highly amusing. She grinned widely. "Yeah, B. Why, you wanted some company tonight?"

Buffy rolled her eyes and walked off without another word, leaving Faith to chuckle quietly and contemplate by herself at the sink.

The past week or so had gone by relatively smoothly, for the most part; she found that she was quickly getting back into the swing of things – the swing being living with that many people again – though there had already been several instances where her patience had been tested. Like the night Xander decided to walk into the bathroom while she was showering; she had almost killed him, even though he swore over and over again that he had knocked. Or having to wait for food at dinner. Not to mention her run-ins with annoying vampires and demons bent on torturing her.

Despite the not-so-awkward greetings she had received from almost everyone when she had first arrived, she knew that they all had their curiosities about why she had left; why so suddenly, though she had told everyone and said her goodbyes, and why she had been so adamant about it. She had managed to repair some damages in the time she had spent before she left, and it seemed the mending was strong enough to keep until she came back. She was not used to being so welcomed, or to have these same people who she had once tormented look at her with appreciation on their faces. She knew they all had their scars – her included – but it seemed most of them were good enough people to move on… To heal. It inspired her to try – it always had – even if she would never let anyone know.

Buffy, of course, was of the few that did not make her feel so accepted – not that she had ever expected her to. She was well aware that her standing with Buffy had always been complicated, different, problematical – to say the least. It was something they had both grown used to. Once in a while when she felt like inflaming her brain she pondered why it was that Buffy was so unhappy with her, with her leaving and subsequently coming back. She never fully understood why, but a part of her always knew what she did would effect Buffy. It had taken everything within her to return, knowing she would not be facing a warm greeting from the one person she would've valued it from most. She wasn't naïve. She had been lucky that Buffy had even agreed to let her stay. The few times they had talked – over dinner, or when they both happened to be watching TV, or in other random situations where it seemed inevitable – it had been awkward and uncomfortable, though Faith never let on with her own sentiments. She was cool as a cucumber, as far as anyone else was concerned, and she preferred to stay that way. There had only been one occasion so far where her persona was worn down.

Buffy caught the girl's leg in mid-swing, eyeing her intensely. "You have to be quick and sure of your actions, Mona." She pulled the girl's leg back, resulting in her coming flying down onto the mat on her back. "That's what happens." She held out a hand to help her up.

Faith had wandered downstairs to grab some supplies and train on her own time, by herself, but this proved impossible as soon as the group of girls assembled around Buffy caught sight of her.

"Faith!" one of them called to her, and she looked sharply at the girl, hoping she wouldn't be asked what she knew was coming. "Buffy, you should spar with Faith! You guys are the best Slayers there are! You could demonstrate what real fighting is like." She was joined quickly by a loud and excited chorus of agreement from the rest.

Buffy turned her eyes in Faith's direction. "Um…" She paused, holding meaningful eye contact with the other Slayer. "I think Faith is busy."

Faith briefly entertained the idea of kicking Buffy's ass in front of an audience, but let it go. "Yeah, listen to the blonde. I got things to do." She walked down the rest of the way nonchalantly, heading towards the weapons.

"Like what? Couldn't you just take five minutes? Please?" one of the girls begged.

Faith decided to pass the buck. "It's up to her." She nodded toward Buffy, then picked up a hefty looking sword and swung it around her head.

Buffy was glaring daggers at her, while she was paying attention to the weapon she was currently trying out. Irritated that Faith had left the decision up to her, on top of the clamor of voices now solely focused on herself, imploring and begging her, she came to a new resolution.

"Who's up for an ass-kicking?" she said, unable to stop the grin that spread across her face as Faith stopped casually swinging the sword around and looked at her, while the girls ran over to the benches against the wall to watch. She tossed the weapon to the side, strutting towards the other Slayer, her deep gaze never leaving her.

"You really want an ass-kicking, B?" She stopped a few feet away. "Cause that would be really embarrassing for you." She matched Buffy's grin, her eyes gleaming.

Buffy smiled sardonically. "I'll try not to ruin your nice leather pants." She flicked her gaze down, then back up.

"Don't worry. They're pretty resilient." She gave Buffy a look that couldn't be mistaken, and then without warning swiped her leg out underneath her, bringing her to the ground hard. She turned toward the group of girls intently watching. "See, the more you talk, the more you distract. Good tactic you should learn." Her smile disappeared as she went flying to the side, having been tackled by her opponent.

"You should learn to pay attention more," Buffy said as she landed astride her, but was quickly thrown off. Both Slayers rolled to the side and stood, poised for action. The words hung in the air as Faith ran forward, and Buffy swerved to the side and grabbed her arms, swinging her around and throwing her to the ground. She let her momentum push her back up gracefully, turning to face the blonde. She threw her leg out high; Buffy blocked it, and she twirled around and brought her arm out toward her head. She ducked, grabbing Faith's legs and bringing her down again before springing back up away from her.

"You like me on the ground, don't ya, B?" She quipped, unable to help herself. She rose and jumped up, aiming a kick at the other girl's head that was blocked. She came down and thrust out her fist, beginning a faultless series of blocks, throws, swings and ducks. It continued around the room at an incredibly rapid pace, the forgotten audience almost unable to keep up with the blur of motion. Not a single hit had landed yet.

"Guess all that time spent fighting demons off in the rest of the world helped you learn how to not get your face punched in," Buffy jibed as she moved out of the way of another punch. There was a bite in her tone that wasn't missed by Faith.

"I learned a lot, actually," she replied, ducking as a foot swung out at her head. She went running forward, and as Buffy rolled out of the way, leaving her heading towards the wall, she kept going, using her momentum to run straight up it and back flip onto the mat. "Like that." She grinned, and narrowly missed a wild swing.

"Had fun then?" Buffy's throws were becoming angrier, more fierce and reckless. She advanced on Faith in a manner that was obviously not meant to be playful or cautious. Her eyes were flaring, and had it been possible, they may have turned red. Faith, caught by complete surprise, did nothing but back up until she was against the cool cement of the wall, taken aback by Buffy's sudden intensity and not willing to fight with her if it was a real fight she was looking for. She had to forcibly stop herself from jumping as Buffy slammed her fist into the wall beside her head, creating a noticeable crack.

The sudden thick and heavy tension in the air could be felt even by the group of girls, who had by now gone dead silent. Harsh breathing was the only thing that could be heard as a staring match took place between the two Slayers, impassioned green eyes boring into resigned brown. Long, fragile moments elapsed without a word, powerful sentiments being passed silently.

Faith moved away from the wall and left the room.

Yes; living back here would take some getting used to.

"Well I don't know about you, but this place looks pretty deserted. Maybe we should try somewhere else." Faith looked around on high alert, very conscious of what cemetery they had wandered into and trying not to let it show.

Buffy had made another surprising move earlier that day and asked Faith if she wanted to patrol with her that night. Of course she wouldn't object – it was harmless enough, and she could always use the handy human punching bag that was the vampire if Buffy pissed her off too much. She needed to get out of the house anyway.

Buffy remained walking slightly ahead of Faith, not looking at her. Her posture was undoubtedly trying for relaxation and casualness, but the tartness in her tone was clearly evident. "What's a matter, this one too boring for you?"

Faith shrugged, attempting to remain calm. Her days of immediately seeing red were behind her – even if it was still a struggle. Nothing good ever seemed to come of instant fierce emotion. "I'm just sayin', we're not really doing much of a public service if there's nothing to kill."

"There's always something to kill. You're just not looking hard enough." She paused. Her voice next came out much quieter, to the point where any ordinary person may not have heard her. "Or you just don't care."

Of course, Faith was no ordinary person. A bit of her irritation crept into her voice. "What?"

Buffy didn't reply for a moment. Then, "Nothing." Soft. Resigned.

Faith sighed. She had nothing to say. She was well aware of how Buffy felt, and there was nothing she could – or, more importantly, wanted to – do to defend herself. After a long silence of walking slowly between gravestones, the older Slayer spoke.

"I like it here. It's quiet."

"And dark." No one to see you with your Loverboy. She pushed the thought away to be met with more silence; so she decided to ignite conversation. "Well, since we're not actively doing anything, let's talk."

"About what?"

She shrugged again. "I don't know, you pick."

The other woman waited before answering, almost as if on the verge of saying something, and then decided not to. "…I'm not really in the mood to talk."

Faith was tired and not entirely perplexed as to why Buffy had brought her along with her just to argue passive-aggressively. A tiny piece of her knew why, but neither of them was going to talk about it. Partly the reason why she wasn't planning on staying out at this hour if Buffy was just going to play headgames. She stopped walking, fixing her with a poignant stare. "Why did you ask me to patrol with you?"

Buffy stopped as well and turned to face her for the first time since they had left the house, her eyes suddenly fervent. "Why did you decide to show up for no reason out of the blue?"

Faith was surprised at the instant reaction, yet pleased that the climax, what had to happen eventually, had finally come. A week may not seem long, but when it's spent waiting for the moment you know is hanging just around the corner, it can seem like an eternity. Whatever she thought she would say was lost in the emotion that was suddenly boiling up inside her. "What is your problem?"

A voice spoke up. "Lover's quarrel?"

You have got to be fucking kidding me.

Willow sat down in the chair, sighing as she looked over the mountain of books piled onto the desk. They were all there for various reasons; it seemed there was always something coming up that needed to be found out. She settled herself in front of the computer screen, scrolling down through the page she had been on before she had taken a much needed bathroom break. As she read, her tired eyes suddenly sparked to life, widening as she gasped.

"No way…"

She grabbed one of the books on the table, flipping it open and avidly searching through the pages as a small, involuntary and unrealized smile spread across her face.

Buffy was currently fixing Asher with a look somewhere between surprised and deadly, though it did not seem to faze him in the slightest.

Faith gave a mockingly sweet smile and clasped her hands together, her tone venomously sardonic. "Oh, great. Company!"

"Go. Away," Buffy muttered to him in a low voice, eyeing him warningly.

Of course, he was not a people pleaser or by any means carrying plans to make sure anyone else was comfortable. He smiled. "Oh, it's fine. We met the other night." He looked at Faith.

She smiled treacherously, her eyes intensely fixed on him. "Yeah, we left things a bit unfinished." She gripped her stake threateningly, out of sight of Buffy since she was standing to the side in front of her.

His smile hadn't changed, though there was something in his eyes that was much more sinister. "So what are you two lovely ladies up to this evening?"

Buffy's immediate anger seemed to have dissipated into edginess, as if the situation was making her extremely nervous. "What are you doing here?"

He opened his arms. "Hey, you came to my neck of the woods." Buffy rolled her eyes, assuming a much more irritated stance, as he laughed. "Boy, you two should see yourselves. You look like – "

"Like I'm gonna punch your face in?" Faith interjected heatedly.

He maintained his cool, nonchalant stature. "Why do I get only hostility from you? We could be friends." Faith sneered at him, disgusted, her teeth bared. His expression changed as he placed his hand to his face in mock recollection. "Come to think of it, you kind of…"

"Okay, why don't you just go home, and we'll continue with what we're doing, and everyone'll be happy. All right?" Buffy had already had enough. She had no idea what she had planned on happening tonight, but it wasn't this. She knew she shouldn't have come here – she knew Asher could never just leave things alone.

Asher looked at her, highly amused. His eyes were twinkling; but there was still something there, behind the delight, that was much more serious. "You remember? That girl?" His grin was intolerable. "You – "

Buffy's voice was dangerous. "Asher – Go home." Faith looked between the two of them, watching the exchange, something lighting in her mind that she couldn't quite put words to.

"You looking to try again? Is that it?" His mask of enjoyment had dropped, suddenly, without warning, and his true sentiment shone on his face for just a moment. His tone had changed to one of sourness and even, if you listened close enough, anger.

Buffy was enormously aggravated by this point, having not wanted to even have any sort of conversation or communication with him in the first place tonight – especially not concerning this, and especially not in front of anyone. "Asher."

Buffy fell more than sat down onto the ground, giggling and trying to keep a hold on the nearly empty bottle she held in her hand. Her bloodshot eyes registered Asher sitting in front of her, beside a striking young woman whose dark hair fell into her face as she eyed Buffy. She found herself unable to look away from the woman, her beauty holding her attention as she silently – or not so silently, since she kept laughing – admired her dark features. She could hear Asher saying something, maybe even both of them were talking, but in her inebriated state she was too completely wrapped up in her eyes' current interest. The fuzz in her brain had become more pronounced, spreading like a thick coat of fog over her thoughts, leaving only the simplest of basic desires left.

The woman had moved closer, and the fog in her mind completely covered Asher. Her eyes locked onto the deep brown staring back at her, and as she experienced an emotion unrecognizable in the shape she was in, she became unaware of what her body was doing. She moved forward, bringing herself nearer to the other girl.

The rest was a blur.

"All right, fine." His voice penetrated her thoughts as she refocused on him. He began walking away, bitter and sardonic. "You two are just so adorable together." He laughed grimly, with no trace of amusement. "Maybe you should try some Alize!" he shouted back at Faith as he continued walking. "She'll love it!"

Buffy let out a weary sigh. Then there was only a long, almost painfully awkward, uncomfortable silence in which she debated whether she should turn around and face Faith or bolt. The decision was made for her.

"…You seriously gun for this guy?" Faith had stepped closer to her.

"Shut up." She was very much aware of what an asshole he had just portrayed himself as; no, he had been one. And if she stayed on one train of thought long enough to allow herself to actually contemplate the situation, she would know why. But she didn't want to try and talk to herself about it – or anyone else. And if he wanted to throw a tantrum, then so be it. But he didn't have to mortify her in front of the one person he probably knew she would most not want around during conversations – if that's what you'd call what just happened – such as those. She realized what she'd snapped at Faith and softened as she spoke again. "He's not usually like that."

Faith cocked an eyebrow skeptically. "I'm sure." Something from the previous exchange suddenly came flying back to her, and her face broke into a mischievous grin. "So what about this girl?" Her eyes lit up, all trace of earlier irritation gone. "Is there a story I'm missing? What has the great Buffy been doing with her time?" She couldn't help the libertine tone her voice took on as she spoke.

Buffy was not going to talk about anything with Faith that would reveal even a scrap of the past that she wasn't around for – especially since she had chosen not to be around for it. She changed the subject to something she actually was curious about. "You two met the other night?"

Faith laughed amusedly. "Great answer. You know it's a worse giveaway if you flat-out dodge the question."

She could hold her ground much better than the other woman was aware of – when it was important enough. She continued to avoid the issue, instead trying to put the focus on Faith. She did want to know what had taken place between her and Asher. "Did you start something with him?"

Now there was very clear, almost palpable anger in Faith's voice, her body stiffening and all her pleasure vanishing. "No. He started it with me." She turned and stalked off back in the direction of the house.

Buffy stared for a minute, trying to comprehend what Faith was trying to tell her, before mentally shaking herself and following quickly after her. When she was closer, she spoke earnestly. "I'm – sorry, I just… You both… I don't know what to say. I'm bad with words." Faith kept walking. For the next few minutes, there was nothing but the sound of their footfalls on the grass. As Buffy's mind hurriedly tried to wrap itself around what had occurred in the past fifteen minutes, she came out with the only thing she could think of to say. "…What happened?"

Faith wasn't going to deny the opportunity to give Buffy at least a small piece of her mind. "He decided to compete for the title of World's Biggest Jackass. Sarcasm, cockiness, wounds and all. He's lucky I didn't stake him."

She didn't know why she was asking. "…Why didn't you?"

Faith stopped. Buffy nearly bumped right into her. She turned to look the blonde in the eye, holding her gaze for a long moment. Buffy waited for her to say something. She turned back and kept walking.

The front door of the large house quietly opened, letting in two silent figures. There were no lights on; the other occupants of the house had all retired. As the door gently shut, Buffy started toward the stairs, then seemed to remember something. She stopped, turning to face the other Slayer. At first she said nothing, suddenly uncertain; when she did manage to speak, her voice was soft and tentative. "…Um… The offer's – still there. If you want a place to sleep."

Faith was already on her way to the living room, weary and impassive. She stopped briefly as well. "Don't worry about it. I told you, the couch is fine. I've slept in a lot worse places."

Buffy unconsciously leaned forward. "…Are you sure?"

Faith's expression could not be seen in the darkness. "Yeah."

Buffy could feel softness on her skin, so gentle the only thing she could think was that she must be on a cloud. There was an extreme peacefulness that seemed to fill her; she couldn't remember feeling like this in a very long time, if ever. She was aware of it deep within her, in a place she thought was long gone. She feared if she were to open her eyes it might all vanish; but she couldn't stop her curiosity.

She was in a bedroom. The softness she had been feeling was the bed beneath her, the cushiony sheets and blankets that seemed to swirl around her. They were pure white. She figured it must be morning, since there was brilliant sunlight streaming in through the large window behind her and illuminating the room. It was spacious, and sparsely furnished; yet she found it beautiful. Maybe that was just for the fact that it gave her such serenity.

She sat up, feeling almost weightless, and caught sight of the door to her left. Somehow she wasn't alarmed or frightened that she had woken up in an unknown place; she only felt curious. A part of her even felt as if this was comfortable, somewhere she should be.

She left the security of the downy bed and made her way out of the room, finding herself not in a hallway, as she would have thought, but in a kitchen. As if she had skipped the rest of the house – or wherever this was – and ended up at the destination. But why the kitchen?

Her question was almost immediately answered.

There was a round, polished wooden table in the center of the tiled, bright room, and sitting at it, casually reading a newspaper, was Faith.

Her hair was tousled playfully, and she held a cup of coffee in the hand that wasn't holding up the paper. She was wearing light PJs, and she looked quite content and customary; as though this was reality, and this was normal.

Buffy could only stand and look at her; she was not shocked, or surprised, or questioning – in fact, she felt just how Faith looked. She was tranquil, and calm, and completely unfazed by the sight before her. It even felt somehow good to see it. She felt something in her hand, and looked down to see that she too was now holding a cup of coffee. She took a sip and looked back at Faith, a small smile of contentment suddenly and involuntarily starting across her features.

Faith seemed to realize she was standing there, and looked up at her with a smile that she had never seen before. It reached her eyes. Neither of them spoke, and yet it felt like they were.

After an indeterminate amount of time passed quite serenely, Buffy suddenly spoke without having told herself she would, or feeling it come out of her.

"We were happy once." It was not accusing, or painful; it just was. A statement; something she felt needed to be said, someway, for some reason.

Faith had gone back to perusing the paper, and as she heard the words, she gave a small reminiscent smile and nodded.

Buffy's eyes slowly opened, quickly registering her dark bedroom that was very much familiar; her nightstand with her clock, her lamp, her bureau, her television. Her ceiling fan. Everything identifiable and normal. At the same time she realized she had awoken from a dream, one she didn't at that moment understand, or want to. Fragments of it were leisurely swimming along in her head as she recalled the utter delusion, the ridiculous and strange whimsy her brain had concocted. There was no rhyme or reason to it. There was not any explanation or rationale for her to be mystifying herself with impossible manifestations. Although it wasn't the first time.

After the usual mess of sudden and short-lived emotion passed through her and she was about to close her eyes and return to a hopefully much changed unconscious creation, eager to let her confusion ebb away, she realized something. Or more, noticed.

The dark eyes looking at her deeply with some unreadable, hidden emotion were not in her mind. They were not a dream. They were very real, and they glinted as they held her in their unwavering gaze.

The moonlight illuminated her figure lying beside Buffy, silent and still, watching. Barely breathing.

Before Buffy could find any words to say, before the thought of speaking could even find time to come to her mind, Faith had just as silently gotten up and disappeared from the room, leaving Buffy alone in the darkness.

"Morning, sunshine!" Cordelia said sweetly and as obnoxiously as seemed possible to Buffy at that moment, as she trudged into the kitchen after having just woken up. Cordelia was practically beaming and holding out a cup of coffee to her. She accepted it wordlessly – though she may have grunted – and sat down at the table.

"No one else is up yet. Well, except Giles, because he's an alien, but he's off doing something or other. I made eggs, if you want any." She looked at Buffy, who didn't reply. "I actually cooked." Seeing that the Slayer was still not enticed, she rolled her eyes and leaned back against the counter. She looked at Buffy for a long moment, and then a grin spread across her face. "So why'd Faith go for a walk at three in the morning?"

Buffy almost choked on the coffee she had been drinking. She put the cup down, wiped her chin, and looked at Cordelia. She tried to keep her voice calm. "What?" She failed.

"She left the house and came back around the time I was up making coffee. Said she had gone for a walk." She quirked her eyebrow, her expression mischievously amused waiting for the other woman's response.

"Oh," was all Buffy gave, clearly avoiding eye contact and looking pointedly out the window as she took another drink.

Cordelia took on a now familiar knowing, coy expression. "Funny. I don't remember ever seeing her go into her room."

Buffy looked at her now, opening her mouth to tell her that Faith's room had been taken by the newly come Slayer and that she had slept downstairs, but was interrupted.

"Hey guys, what's cookin'?" Xander walked casually into the room, clad in blue plaid pajama pants and a T-shirt. "I smell eggs."

Buffy sighed, looking back out the window.

Chapter Sixteen

"Faaiith…" The voice was wickedly soft, enticing, in the way that the curiosity of a back alley begs you to enter it but the fear keeps you away. "Faaiith…"

Faith tossed and turned, trying to block out the sound, not completely certain in her slumber what it was but knowing full well that it was something dirty, something evil.

"Faith… You know you want to come play… It feels so good here, Faith…"

She clutched at something; squeezed her eyes tighter, shook as she pushed the thoughts away.

"No…"

"Remember what it felt like? To get out all that pain… It feels so good to get it out… To make someone else hurt…" Flash of memory. "To feel that rush… One more time…" Visions. Images. Feelings. Won't go away.

"No…"

"It'll always be inside of you, Faith… It'll always be there, like a sick little disease… You'll never get rid of it…" Swirling, sounds, nothing made sense. Lights and clips of what could or could not be real, all in her mind, before her eyes as though really there. "Just accept it… Faith…"

"No." She shot up; sweating, clinging to the sheets wrapped tight around her, eyes wide open.

"Out for another midnight stroll?"

There could be no more obvious sign of hatred from the Powers That Be than this moment, she was sure of it. The Slayer's face took on a mask of irritation as she spun her head to eye the vampire for what felt like the umpteenth, and far past the point of final, time. "What is your damage?"

He put his hands in his pockets, walking beside her. His tone was casual, but she could hear the undercurrent of derision. "Why do you come here if you know I'm here?"

"There are assholes like you everywhere. I'm not gonna turn tail just ‘cause you think you can headtrip me." She kept moving, not deigning him with eye contact.

Asher smiled. "I like you."

Faith busied herself with looking around the cemetery for other vampires and ghouls, principally ones she could kill. "I don't like you."

He pulled his shoulders up to his chin cheekily. "Not even a little bit?"

Faith walked away from him with a disinterested air that would have shot anyone else down. "Go to hell," she sighed.

But Asher followed, nonchalant and mocking. "So why'd you come back, anyway? Tired of traversing the rest of the world all by your lonesome? Did you get homesick? Did you have some duty to do?"

She still did not look at him as they walked, responding with sarcastic sweetness dripping with severe dislike. A contemptuous smile appeared on her face. "The only duty I'm going to do is ridding the world of one less moronic undead idiot if you don't shut up."

Asher, completely unfazed if not a little more confident, continued. "You know you won't. You couldn't do that to Buffy."

Now Faith stopped to look at him, intensity covering her face. I've done a lot of things to Buffy. "You have no idea what I can do." And you are not playing that card.

His eyebrows rose. "Is that a threat?"

"Did it sound like one?" For a split second something clicked into place in her memory and she experienced a modicum of déjà vu.

"You're feisty," he said playfully, a smile taking up his features that would have appeared happy to anyone else, but all she saw was the hatred lurking beneath.

Faith was very much aware he was just trying to provoke her – though she had never been one of the strong, stoic types who let other people's bullshit cascade over her without fighting back. "Don't test me." She paused, a murky thought emerging in her mind, and stopped to face him. She crossed her arms, suddenly curious. "What's the real reason you keep bothering me?"

The vampire put on a faux innocent, pondering look that just begged to be remodeled with a fist and shrugged. "It's a lot of fun and you're easily riled up?"

She smirked without humor. "Nice try, Fang Boy." She swelled with confidence at realizing she had found a way to gain the upper hand. "I think there's something else. I think…" Something filtered through her brain, and her face lit up with sudden partial comprehension. "I'm some kind of threat to you." Asher's eyes lit up, and she grinned triumphantly like she had just figured out the key that won the prize, and she was actually taken aback. Still extremely amused, nonetheless. "I am, aren't I?"

The vampire lost his confidence for only a moment, his outer shell cracking just slightly, before getting it back threefold. He held his head up arrogantly. "I'm glad you think so highly of yourself and your importance, but sadly, you're mistaken." He began walking again, this time in her previous avoidance fashion.

Faith followed him, now smiling with joy at the power she had attained. "Then what was with your little premium hissy the other night?" Both momentarily recalled the night he had bothered her and Buffy. "What is it? You afraid I could take you? Cause I could. Maybe it's ‘cause I'm a Slayer. Maybe…" Another proverbial light bulb went off in her head, this one much brighter and stronger than the last. The pieces hadn't quite fallen into place, but they were scattered throughout her thought process as she looked at him curiously. "…Maybe I'm threatening something else."

He rolled his eyes; she could see in his subtly clenched jaw and sudden stiffness in movements that she had struck something. "You wish."

She laughed. "Oh, the tables have turned!" The pure amusement grew on her face as she looked at him. "I can find the fun in this now. Do you think – "

He stopped abruptly and turned on her. "Oh, will you stop? It doesn't matter. None of it matters. Just go back to wherever you came from, will you? I don't need you hanging around here and fucking everything up." Beneath his irritation came something else that she recognized: he hadn't meant to let the real, candid truth slip. It gave him a weakness. And she was going to pounce all over it.

A delighted, wicked smile spread across her face, her eyes twinkling. "…I knew it," she said with satisfaction. She chased after him as he began to walk away again. "What is it that you think I could take from you?"

"You can't take anything from me." His voice was terse, almost like he was rehearsing a line in a play that he hadn't quite gotten down yet.

"Apparently I can."

His face changed as he stopped again, once more eyeing her, this time growling deep in his throat. The sudden harsh ridges above his yellow eyes cast shadows in just the right way that almost could have made him look frightening. If Faith got frightened by those kinds of things. "Go. Away."

She was unfazed, if not emboldened. "Not so keen on bothering me now, are you?"

He stepped close to her, into her personal space. "You may not have the stones to kill me, but I'd take you out in a second, sweetheart. So you better back. Off. If you know what's good for you."

Her every nerve was on fire. She grinned at him, cool and confident, but with an underlying air of odium that bit at her words. "You wanna test me?"

He looked over her shoulder at that moment, at something behind her, a look of fear rapidly changing his features; then he was gone, fleeing away across the graveyard. She spun to see what he had been looking at; there was nothing there.

Giles sat down in a large chair across from where the young woman was almost invisible behind piles of books that littered the desk. Some were thrown open, some were stacked on top of each other; there was very little actual table space left. "You wanted to see me, Willow?" He looked at her inquiringly, if not a bit anxiously.

She looked away from her computer screen, momentarily unable to bring her eyes to meet the older man's. "I – couldn't keep it in any longer, and I wasn't sure who to tell. I don't know how Buffy would react if she knew, or anyone else… I figured you were the safest."

Now Giles appeared even more visibly concerned, leaning forward slightly. "What is it? I assure you whatever it is, it's very safe with me."

She looked at him. "I think – I think I know who the demon's after. And it's not Buffy."

His face took on a very knowing look as he sat back, very serious, and removed his glasses.

Faith stood, confused, in the middle of the graveyard, not sure what to do or think about the small but strange incident that had just occurred. What had he been looking at, and why did he run when he saw it? What could Asher be afraid of – and why did it disappear? Or maybe she just couldn't see it.

Whatever. I hope it guts him.

"We should start keeping a time schedule." Faith almost jumped out of her skin at the sound of Buffy's voice behind her. She turned around, throwing on her casual look with her hand on her hip.

"Yeah, I know how slaying with me can be tough on your ego." She quickly took in what the other woman was wearing, noticing that the clothes were fairly decent, and didn't look as if they had been used to slay in before. She looked good.

"Try just tough." She crossed her arms. "What are you doing out so late?"

"Well, mom, I just couldn't sleep, so I thought I'd take a walk. And it's just so unfair that I get questioned and you don't." She clasped her hands together and mockingly acted like a child, her voice achingly sarcastic.

Buffy rolled her eyes and began to walk further into the graveyard, past the other Slayer. "Were you talking to someone?" she asked after a moment, fully aware that Faith would be behind her.

There was only a slight pause before Faith answered. "No."

"How long have you known?" he asked quietly.

"Um… Well… The first time I went to Europe I kind of…saw her doing something…not of the good? I turned a corner and she was with this group of demons, and…they just killed this innocent guy…and then laughed about it, and walked away." Emotion crept into her voice. "And… I forgot about it until I went back this time and saw her again – she wasn't doing anything in particular this time, but seeing her made me remember the last time. And…now there's this demon who goes after people who aren't for picking one side of the fence, and I connected the dots." She sounded small and scared, as if what she was saying was difficult. And it was.

Giles' brow furrowed as he looked at the floor. He shook his head slightly, concentrating. Willow thought she might just stop breathing before he finally spoke. "I don't believe Faith would do something like that. What you saw…in Europe. There must be…some sort of explanation."

"Well, my eyes have been doing pretty well for the past 25 years," she said softly.

Giles looked at her, his face serious and resolute. "Willow." He spoke gently but sure, the way he always had, and the way that made it so easy to trust and believe him. He waited until she met his gaze, which took a moment. "We will solve this." He paused. "We have no way of knowing when this demon is going to strike, or even what it's doing. As far as we know it hasn't even done anything yet."

"Stupid, pathetic ingrate!" Her long black heels clicked the floor in front of him, back and forth, back and forth. She stopped, whipping around to face him and pointing ferociously. "I told you not to let your petty, insolent feelings get in the way of what I'm doing!" She grabbed hold of his hair, violently pulling his head back. She leaned in close to his face. "Do you have any idea how insignificant you are to me?"

"Y-Yes," the vampire managed to choke out, swallowing hard.

She smiled without humor. "Good." She released him roughly. "Do the job I told you to do. Last. Chance."

"Why is it so hard to believe you sometimes?" Buffy asked as she moved among the grass and gravestones, passing all manner of fake and dying flowers and little American flags stuck into the dirt.

"Because your trust is my Holy Grail, B." It was said flippantly as Faith slowly walked along behind her, making certain not to look at her just the little bit too much that would cause her to go stumbling off into some fresh open grave or mausoleum wall.

The older woman smiled despite herself, believing it – somewhat – to be out of amusement. "You should stop searching so hard."

Buffy did not catch the look on the other Slayer's face as at that moment she was tackled to the side by a blue flying something that Faith couldn't even begin to describe. She quickly sprung into action – even if it was mostly instinct at seeing something happen to the woman in front of her – and ran to where the two had landed, wasting no time. Buffy was kicking the thing off her and flipping back up as Faith got close enough to land a violent punch to the back of its thick head. This angered it, and it turned around and grabbed her by the throat before she had time to react. She wrapped both her hands around its giant meaty wrist, preparing to kick off of it – or just kick it in the face – but Buffy handled the situation, throwing both her feet into the back of its kneecaps. It stumbled off-balance, loosening the hold on Faith long enough for her to escape. She began vigorously beating the snot out of its face until it threw her away from it with a swipe of its arm. It then turned back to Buffy.

Faith rolled with the throw, landing agilely on her feet and spinning back around, ripping down a decent-sized tree branch as she went running back toward the fight. She attacked it with her new weapon as it was bearing down on the other Slayer, showing no mercy. It quickly became annoyed and tried to smack her away again, but she deftly avoided it and continued her assault. She was no longer thinking, just doing. Just feeling the satisfying connection of the branch with the demon's flesh, or whatever it had. Fight fight hit fight hit hit save Buffy… Buffy doesn't need to be saved, stupid.

She was flying through the air, backwards, and landing roughly on her back before she realized what had happened. When she got back up, she quickly realized that the demon had somehow gotten the upper hand and was on top of Buffy, who was struggling to get some kind of purchase. Faith jumped onto its back with unleashed ferocity, scraping, clawing, and beating at the thing until finally it gave enough of its attention to her to forget about Buffy. It whirled around, trying to pull her off, but she had dug her nails in and was using every ounce of strength – it felt like – in her left arm, while she brought the branch still tightly clutched in her right swiftly up into the demon's face.

That did it.

The thing shuddered, a disgusting and strangely colored thick – substance – dripping and oozing from where its face had been, before it fell forward, and she jumped off as it landed hard on the ground.

She spun around to check on the other Slayer, who she had fully expected to still be in tip top condition – maybe a little worse for wear, but nothing significant. However Buffy was leaning against a tombstone, and she looked pretty beaten. Her face was covered with dirt and scratches, even though the fight had in reality probably not lasted that long. Faith walked over to her, somewhat hesitantly, not sure what to say, but figured hiding behind her well-worn bravado would be an easy enough solution.

"You okay?" she asked briskly, but the undertone of concern was still evident, and she knew Buffy heard it.

The older woman nodded. "Yeah… My leg kinda hurts…"

At first Faith stood there, like an imbecile, completely at a loss as to what she should do, afraid to touch her but afraid to do nothing. Offer her some help… Yeah that would be priceless, kid.

"I think that's enough for tonight, what about you?" Buffy said, eliminating the need for Faith to make a decision.

She just nodded. "Yeah."

Faith reacted very quickly when Buffy went to move forward and ended up falling into her; she instinctively caught her around the middle, holding her up. There was no speaking; she gingerly took Buffy's arm and put it over her shoulders, leaving one hand on the other woman's hip as one walked and one limped back toward the house.

Chapter Seventeen

Several weeks had passed since Faith's arrival, and the friction between the pair of Slayers had not dampened even a little bit; though despite this, there was a noticeable reoccurrence, it seemed, every time one of them got up the urge to go patrol. Both were content to believe it was just a happenstance of the Fates, and nothing to do specifically with anything that could possibly hold any importance.

After all, facing the kinds of demons that didn't physically try to rip your arms or legs off was never any fun.

Buffy walked beside the dark brunette who always seemed to be out at the same time she was. She looked all around at anything but the left of her and grasped at excuses for conversation that was still awkward no matter how many times it was tried. "So you've been spending a lot of time out here, huh?"

Faith shrugged. "Gives me somethin' to do. And a reason to get outta the house." While she, too, was playing the look-away game, she didn't seem nearly as tense as Buffy felt. But then that had always been true.

"Seems like you've been out here every night."

Faith shot her a look, but didn't bite the bait. "Well, there's evil afoot. You know." Calm. Collected. Always too unruffled to ever actually be unruffled.

Buffy tried not to stumble over her words. " Yes, there's lots of afooting…" She paused, and there was a brief silence. She didn't know what she wanted to say. No, scratch that; she didn't know how to say…anything. "What – usually happens during all of this killing and hunting and such?"

Faith felt the annoyance steadily beginning to gnaw at her, but she carefully kept it in check. "Killing and hunting and such." She paused, her uncouth side begging. "Whadja have in mind?" A grin.

Buffy ignored the comment but turned away awkwardly. "I just…was curious, you know, especially in this neighborhood, the action doesn't really spike too much, not after we sent a bunch of the Slayers after that demon clan… Also visibly noticeable by the fact that we've been out here a decent amount of time and have yet to run into anything scary or night-bumpy." Faith raised her head in her own form of a half-complete nod. "I just…don't want you to get into any trouble, that's all." This earned her a look. "You're right, that was kind of a logic-absent sentence. But, you know what I mean…"

"Yeah, I know what you mean." There was a long pause. To any other person it may have seemed like a normal, awkward conversation – but the two of them both knew what the underlying issue was, and Faith had never been one for pussyfooting. "That Asher idiot's no good for you, B."

Buffy's voice came out terse, not ready to be called out and having expected Faith's words. "And why is that?"

She wasn't shying away now. "He's evil. He's only out to hurt you." The next part came out more flippant, her Bostonian accent pushing through. "You need to get over this thing you got goin' with vampires, seriously. It ain't healthy." That was Faith. Always first-rate with the serious talks.

"And you're the one to teach me about what's healthy, right?"

Oh, that was too easy. She should have seen it coming. Nonetheless, she stopped, looking around at nothing with an expression ranging an impressive amount of emotions at once, all of them negative.

Buffy stopped as well, thinking before she spoke this time. "Sorry. Old habits. You bring angry quips out of me like nobody else."

Faith, still not looking at her, sighed and resumed walking. "You're better than that, you know." She looked around nonchalantly, as though she was disinterested in what she was saying. "You don't need him."

But Buffy recognized more than she had when she was nineteen. "And where's all this coming from?"

Faith smiled dryly. "I've had more than enough run-ins with him. Pretty sure he just comes looking for me, to stir me up. The guy's a fucking tool, B." Now she looked her in the eye.

Given the choice to either continue a discussion about something that was not going to deprive anyone of sleep, or bite at the core, Buffy decided to plunge into the possibly frightening heart of the unspoken tension between the two of them that had permeated everything for the last month. After a long staring match during which she attempted to mentally prepare herself, she spoke. "Why did you come back, Faith?" At first the younger woman held her gaze, scrutinizing her, and then looked away – again – without responding. Buffy didn't even think before she let the words fall out, seeking some sort of reaction. "I knew you would. It was just a question of how long."

Whether Faith was prepared or not for the impending gravity and significance the stroll in the graveyard had taken on was a moot point when a very large branch connected with the side of her head.

She was momentarily stunned, her head whipping to the side, before instantly righting herself and focusing her attention on the same spot Buffy now intently was: the group of demons suddenly right in front of them.

They were nothing impressive, at least not by the standards of an experienced Slayer; however there were at least five of them. For the most part they seemed focused on beating the snot out of Faith, and this slightly confused Buffy. Maybe she just exuded an aura that pissed everyone off, good or evil.

This thought process was very quick however, since Buffy immediately threw herself into the fight. The demons were for the most part not directly attacking her, but that had never stopped her before. She jumped onto the back of one of them, using her weight to bring him down to the ground hard and rolling off to inflict more damage while he was still at a disadvantage. "I – " she brought her foot down angrily, "was in the middle of a conversation!"

Faith, nearby, had quickly picked up the branch she had initially been hit with and furiously swung it at the entire pack of them, knocking three backwards and giving one a pretty severe head wound. She barely stopped to catch a breath and bounded after them as they stumbled back, jumping around and swinging her new weapon at an alarming pace. She seemed overly eager to finish them off.

Buffy swiftly impaled her demon onto a nearby rather lethal branch sticking out of a tree and grabbed a second from near Faith, who was continuing her mini-rampage. Once the second was gone, she focused back on the ones that were left. Faith was so preoccupied with the two she was beating into pulps that she actually didn't notice the one coming up behind her – unusual as that was – and before Buffy could push the words past her throat the demon had taken hold of the brunette and flung her across the graveyard, where she smashed through a rather large gravestone.

Buffy lost all conscious thought of what she was doing as something deep inside of her took over, something primal, and she flung herself forward at the three remaining demons with full force and fury, not even registering any blows she may have taken. There was a blur of limbs and whatever she could find lying near her to use as weapons, her body fully kicking in and making sure she didn't miss or err.

Before she knew it there were three bodies lying at her feet, and once that had seeped into her brain and cued realization she quickly spun and raced to where Faith was lying still on the earth. She fell to her knees next to her, and stopped all her rapid movements. Breathing heavily, she thought for a moment about her action, and then gingerly touched Faith's shoulder, as though it might burn her.

"Faith?"

Nothing.

"Faith?"

Her stomach clenched unwillingly. Wake up… Come on… Had she been able to remove herself somehow from her body and be an on-looker to the situation, she would have wondered why she was so concerned. But that thought was buried under the immediate feelings she was trying to process; fear being one of them – thought she wasn't quite sure why, since in reality there really was no way a Slayer could be killed just by taking a gravestone to the face. She knew. She'd done it.

"Faith." Her voice was somewhat steadier now.

And then suddenly she was no longer looking at eyelids but dark brown glinting pools, and she involuntarily smiled.

"…Uh, hey B. You checking me for lice or something?"

Buffy nearly leapt back, realizing suddenly how close she had unknowingly gotten to the other woman's face. She quickly found words. "Just wanted to make sure you woke up, is all. Sleeping on the job isn't highly recommended in this business."

"Yeah. I'll remember that next time I go headfirst through stone." Faith rubbed her head, then stood. "They dead?" She brushed herself off.

"Indeed. That was a little strange. I think I'll ask Willow about them. Don't usually get groups unless there's a reason."

Faith nodded, and they began to walk along. The demon bodies had disappeared, melted or vanished or something – easy cleanup. Buffy was heading back toward the house, and while she suspected Faith would have been up for plenty more demon rounds, she seemed to just absently be following Buffy.

Now that the adrenaline and alarm had worn off, Buffy immediately remembered what had occurred right before the attack; what they had been talking about. Faith clearly was not going to bring it up again, if she spoke at all; so if Buffy wanted to talk, she would have to be the one to initiate it. She wondered why all of a sudden it seemed harder than it had ten minutes ago. Maybe she was just letting it get to her too much. She looked over at Faith. The other woman seemed somewhat thoughtful; she had more expression on her face than she had earlier. Buffy decided to speak before her brain had fully caught up with her and could stop her.

And truthfully, she wanted some goddamn answers.

"Okay, let's try… Why did you leave?" She made sure she could see Faith's reaction.

Faith sighed, almost in defeat. She looked down, then out in front of her. "You know why, B. It's not like I left without a word or anything. I wanted to redeem myself. Find myself. See the world, all that good shit. Figured I'd feel better about it if I did it on my own for a while, no help, nothing." She got a faraway look in her eyes for a moment as the memory of Dean struck her.

"And that's all?"

Faith cut her eyes at her.

"You did what you were brought to do, that's it, you're done. What more use do you have?"

She turned the doorknob, completely unaware of what she was about to find. As the door opened to reveal the scene before her, her eyes widened momentarily before quickly hardening over, and she turned and briskly walked away.

She looked away. "Pretty much."

"I'll probably spend several hours kicking myself for saying this later, but…" There was an incredibly long pause during which she had an internal battle with herself over whether or not to say the next three words. After a million thoughts swam through one second of time in her mind, one side won. "…I missed you."

Faith didn't reply.

At some point Faith had, begrudgingly it seemed, accepted Buffy's offer to share her bed. In the last couple of weeks they had not spoken of the night that Buffy had awoken to find Faith in her room. They hadn't talked about much, in fact – not much of a surprise – save for now, this night. It was the most they had said seriously to each other since Faith had arrived, and as little as it was it most likely had emotionally drained them enough.

This was obvious by the fact that Faith had fallen asleep almost as soon as her head had touched the pillow when they got back to the house – she would've gone to bed in her clothes if Buffy hadn't made the suggestion of getting more comfortable. Buffy, however, was still wide awake, for reasons unknown to her. She wanted direly to sleep, and had tried unsuccessfully for what must have been at least an hour by now. She sat up, quite frustrated, resting back against the headboard. She looked over at Faith.

She was sound asleep on her stomach, her head turned to the side, away from Buffy; she could see her back silently rising and falling as she breathed, and it seemed like the most gentle thing she was capable of. Her dark hair was splayed all over the place, and her entire body was relaxed. It was the most peaceful Buffy could ever remember seeing her.

And then she heard it.

At first it was incoherent, just sleep mumbling… But then it developed into words.

"Fountain…"

What? Was Faith dreaming?

"You… …I don't…"

Buffy briefly wondered what she could be dreaming about. A fountain? Why that of all things? Buffy had never really thought about what kinds of things a person like Faith dreamt about. They certainly weren't happy fluffy ones; that much she could've always assumed.

Her thought process on that note ceased entirely when she heard the next sleep-laden word pass Faith's lips.

"Buffy…"

What?

I'm definitely getting Willow.

Buffy walked into the room quietly, part of her in awe at the fact that her friend could stay up to such hours of the night being brilliant and doing whatever else it was that she did, even though she had many a night found her up beyond this hour.

"Hey Will."

The witch looked up from her computer screen. "Oh, hi Buffy. What are you doing up so late?"

Buffy smiled. "I could say the same to you." She sat down in the chair across from her, resisting the urge to move some of the mounds of books so she could better see across the table. "Find any more useful information?"

"Not yet." She frowned. "I've been looking everywhere I can think of. I'm starting to think this demon doesn't want anyone to know anything about it."

Buffy leaned closer, as if to tell a secret – even though she knew no one else was awake. "Do you think…if I asked you something in private, you could tell me the answer?"

Willow looked amusedly at her, her interest peaked. "Well… Since we are in private, and I'm capable of answering a question, then I think so."

Now that the moment had arrived to actually voice her thoughts, Buffy suddenly became slightly uncomfortable. She fidgeted as she spoke. "Um… …Well, see, that's kind of the reason I was up so late… I was in bed, and I couldn't really sleep, and I heard Faith mumbling something about…a fountain, in her sleep. I wouldn't have thought anything of it, except that then…" She wanted to pause for longer but realized how awkward it would have been and forced the rest of the sentence out, "…she said my name."

Willow's eyes widened, but she quickly changed her expression. "Um… Uh… I don't know, that does seem kind of strange. I could do some research on that for you, if you want, but I don't really have an answer for you right now…"

Buffy had known Willow for a long time, and Buffy knew when she was hiding something. Not that Willow had ever been the toughest cookie to crack anyway. "Willow… What do you know?"

The other woman paused. "Nothing, honest, nothing, can't a girl do research anymore? "

Buffy leaned in more, her face and tone much more serious. "Willow, what if this is really important?"

Willow slipped. "It's not…" She panicked. "I-I mean, it's, it probably isn't, I'll – I'll look it up…right now… Here I go… Google…"

Buffy gently took hold of her friend's hand on the mouse, looking her in the eye. "Will."

Chapter Eighteen

"So this is what it's like, huh B?" She looked up into the sky, the bottle dangling comfortably from her hand, her posture completely relaxed.

"Yeah, Faith. This is what it's like."

There was something about the way a sunset looked. No matter how many times you saw it on a calendar, or on a desktop background, or somewhere else cheesy and overdone – you could never stop noticing it. You couldn't help taking that one extra second to let the image sink in, to really feel it. Especially when it was the real thing, right in front of you. That was better than all of it. It didn't matter how many sunsets you had sat and watched before that. Every time it was captivating.

The sun didn't offer any simple answers and neither did Buffy Summers, if you really knew her. The words may be unadorned, the phrase not dense – but the mindful listener knew this was only the case because the real answer was just too difficult to verbalize. Finding a way to simplify it was quite delicate. The simple answers were actually the most calculated of all.

"…Do you think I could keep this?"

It was spoken so quietly she thought for just a moment that it was only in her mind. Buffy looked over at the other woman, who slowly turned her face to show sudden innocence, questioning; almost fear, even. She was mildly certain that no one else brought out that raw, child-like side of Faith that still existed under years of thick layers of roughness and anger.

I hope so.

Early morning really was beautiful. The way the sun appeared as it was still behind the trees, sending just the right amount at just the right angles to let you know that the rest of the world was still asleep, not chaotic just yet… You could feel like you were the only person alive, just for an hour or two.

Buffy stared out the kitchen window, a large cup of coffee cooling in her hands. Her eyes were unfocused, staring at the sunrise but not concentrated on it. It more served as a background to her thoughts, which were becoming more and more conflicting each day. It seemed every time she sat down to think – and sometimes when she didn't want to think at all, and it caught her by surprise – she was hit with a newly surfaced emotion or memory that she had managed quite well to forget about for a long time.

When Faith had left she had been amazed at how she had felt so…empty. She never really could figure out the reasons behind anything the girl did, and she shouldn't have been surprised when one day she just decided she "had" to leave. Packed her things, said her goodbyes, and the last thing Buffy remembered was her figure walking down the driveway. She had refused to let anyone drive her. They didn't even know where she was going. After that point she had vowed never to let anything Faith did affect her ever again – if she ever saw her again – and she was already breaking that vow. It pissed her off. Who was she to come in here after nearly three years and just expect everything to be better again? Expect things to be okay? She had no idea how Buffy felt – Buffy didn't even know how Buffy felt – and as each day went by the more irritated Buffy was. It bothered her that she could easily shake off so many things, but Faith – she could never shake.

"Oh, you're up. Good." The familiar sound of Willow's voice pushed against Buffy's thoughts and she slowly came back to the present, focusing on the sink in front of her and turning around.

"Hey." She offered a small smile.

"Morning." Willow eyed the coffee in Buffy's hands. "Is there any more of that?"

"Yeah."

After pouring a cup the other woman stood against the counter and looked over at her friend. "So I looked up information on the things that attacked you guys the other night. They typically don't attack for no reason; they like to be getting some kind of payment out of it."

Buffy's brow furrowed. "Somebody paid them?"

"I don't know, I have to do a little more research. Can you remember any other details?"

Buffy had been replaying the night's events in her head a few more times than she'd be willing to divulge to anyone. She went over it once more, intently focusing on anything she may have missed, and that was when she recalled something. Her gaze was unfocused; she was concentrating on the thought she had just figured out. "…The demons weren't attacking me." She looked straight at Willow, realization dawning over her features. "They were attacking Faith."

Surely all of hell's fury could not even compete with the blinding rage that was churning inside the demon as she stood with her back turned to the sniveling piece of garbage she had made the mistake of trusting with a situation.

"Do you remember what I told you?" Her voice was absolutely lethal. Deadly calm, deeper than it had ever seemed before. Involuntarily a quake went through the vampire, one he was grateful she did not see.

"Yes." It was so quiet he could've said nothing.

"What?" she snapped, all venom. She did not turn around.

"Yes." Louder this time.

"It was your last chance. I recall these words very perfectly, and I remember saying them directly to you." And suddenly he was in the air, held two feet above the ground by an inhumanly strong hand wrapped excruciatingly tight around his throat. Red eyes burned into him. "So what, pray tell, was worth dying over?" Her voice was a hiss, her face drawn into a ghastly stare.

He could not respond; her hold was too powerful. He choked. She watched him for a moment, before throwing him so forcefully into the stone wall that had he been human, he would have broken in half. As it was, he only had the strength to push himself up into a sitting position after moments of disorientation. If this was the game, then he would damn sure let his voice be heard. He was no coward.

"That stupid bitch," he gasped out, blood staining his lip. He glared up at the woman before him. "She thought she could take her from me. NO ONE takes from me! Especially Slayers. She needed to be taken care of. I'm not going to let her fuck with me. Even if it meant I'd get a spanking." He grinned in twisted amusement. "I wanted revenge."

"Well I hope it was worth it." An angry, large, fiery light appeared between her hands, and without hesitation she promptly hurtled it towards him; but by the time it hit and thoroughly scorched the wall where he had been, he was gone.

"Today is a bad day," Willow announced as she walked into the study.

Buffy looked up from her seat in one of the leather chairs. She tried her best fake cheery tone. "Show some optimism, Wills!"

Willow shook her head. "I just have a bad feeling about today. Something feels…off." She sat down.

"Well… I have coffee… I had yummy food of the breakfast variety… I'm – moderately relaxed… I'd say so far today feels pretty good." She offered a smile.

"Yeah, well, let's hope so."

Buffy's face took on a slightly more serious expression as she broached the topic she hadn't brought up in a few days. She looked at the floor, the trim, and all other manners of things down below where Willow's face was as she spoke slowly and hesitantly. "Did you, um – figure out anything about those demons that attacked Faith?"

Willow started, not expecting the question. "Oh, yeah… I didn't find much, only that from the description you gave me they're generally only used to do another demon's dirty work." She paused, the only logical conclusion reaching Buffy without her even having to say it. "If the demons were only attacking Faith like you said, that means someone sent them after her."

"Buffy!" Before she could contemplate what her friend had told her, the sound of her younger sister's voice penetrated the room. She perked her head up toward the door. The teenage girl practically ran into the room, beaming, dragging a not quite as enthused Faith behind her. Buffy noticeably shifted in her seat, tensing just slightly. "You have to see this trick Faith just taught me! It's the coolest thing!" She pulled the older woman forward beside her, pulling on her sleeve. "Show her!"

"Well, it's really not that amazing…"

"Come on, just do it!"

As Faith was reaching into her pocket, acutely aware of the set of eyes in the room practically burning into her, there was an obnoxious, sudden crackling in the air that made Dawn jump and Faith automatically fall into a fighting stance, pushing the girl behind her. Buffy had leapt up from her chair, assuming a similar position, and Willow was sitting up, alert. All eyes were focused on the area of the room where they could hear, and now see, something entering out of the air.

Faith could have died. It was the fucking demon woman again. She looked almost livid, nothing like the other encounters Faith had had with her. She wondered what had happened to make her lose her charm. Maybe I'll make it through this time with my sanity intact. That would be fantastic. She swallowed her thoughts as the woman's eyes locked onto her. Had she even bothered to look at anyone else in the room? Faith suddenly felt like an ant under a magnifying lens.

"Who are you?" Buffy asked, bold and confident as always. The woman slowly, so slowly, turned her head to look at the Slayer, smiling wickedly in a way that made Buffy almost want to take a step back. Almost.

"I'm a friend of Faith's." Her smile got bigger as she turned back to the other woman. "Isn't that right?" There was the demon she had been expecting.

Faith fixed her with her most revolted expression, baring her teeth as her lip came up in a silent snarl. Her eyes bore heated hate into the creature before her, who only gave back amusement – and anticipation.

That was all Willow needed to make the connection. Her eyes widened as she instantly realized that this woman was the demon they had been researching for over a month. She had been right – the demon was after Faith. She kept her mouth closed, however, already quite aware of the woman's temper and knowing nothing she could say would probably aid the situation in a positive way. Dawn, behind Faith, moved back towards Willow.

Buffy was about to speak again, but Faith cut her off, addressing the woman before her through gritted teeth. "What do you want?"

"You and I both know the answer to that, Faith." Her smile slowly faded, leaving behind a smoldering, concentrated stare. The complete need, the rage, was glaringly evident. In that moment, Faith didn't know if she had ever felt so sought after in her life.

"I already told you. How many times do you have to be rejected before you get it?"

At first Buffy was more than slightly confused, watching the exchange between the two women. Clearly this woman was evil, but who was she? How did Faith know her? How did she not know about this until now, when Faith had been living in her house for more than a month? Not that they had talked extensively or anything, but still… This seemed a tad bit important, the kind of thing you might want to let people know about in case, you know, the evil bitch decides to barge into your study and have a showdown.

The woman's gaze intensified, if possible. "People don't reject me. Some just fight longer before they give in."

Oh. Now Buffy knew who she was. The sudden wave of multiple, rather large realizations that hit her was almost more than she could handle. …Shit.

"Well that's just dandy, but ya see, I'm not people, you've already tried more than enough, and you don't have anything that I want. So why don't you just go find someone else to fuck with, because you're not gettin' me." She stood erect, sure, steady.

Buffy felt a spark of pride at Faith's words; her clear and confident battle against the evil trying to coerce her. It was a beautiful example of how she had left her old self behind in a giant crater out in the desert. She felt something stirring within her at the sight, something on which she couldn't quite put her finger or even focus on, given the situation at hand.

"Are you sure about that?" the woman asked, a sly grin appearing on her face. She stepped closer to Faith, who didn't budge. "You sure I don't have anything you want?"

Faith moved her face in close, never breaking eye contact. To anyone else, the entire room had evaporated around them and her only focus was the woman in front of her. "Positive."

The demon laughed, and Buffy wanted to punch a hole through her face. One more minute of this and she wouldn't be able to contain herself any longer.

"What if I offered you power?" Her voice was like velvet, rolling over Faith in a way that she hated but couldn't resist. Her eyes unwillingly sparked at the word, before she quickly hid any emotion away. But it was too late; it had been seen. "I knew that would entice you. Don't you know? It's what you've wanted all along. To be able to do whatever you want – to feel however you want, or not to feel… It's your choice. You can get rid of all that nastiness inside you, or you can make others feel it too…"

"Enough!" Buffy suddenly shouted, moving forward a few steps in her fury. She couldn't stand here and just watch this. She was quickly thrown back into the chair behind her, however, with a flick of the demon's wrist. Willow and Dawn moved closer to her, watching the demon warily.

"Sit." The woman fixed Buffy with a steely, frightening look, before turning back to Faith, who had finally broken the staring match to look at the other Slayer. "Faith. Look at me," the woman said. Faith looked. Why was she looking? Look somewhere else. NOW. Her brain functions clearly weren't cooperating with her brain signals. "I know what you want. I know what you need. Why do you think I chose you?" She leaned in again, her voice dropping. Faith managed to move at least her gaze away, fixed on nothing. "You have so much power already. Imagine what you could do with the power I could give you. You would be unstoppable. Untouchable. No one could hurt you. You could do whatever you wanted…" She paused, looking over the other woman's face. Faith was imperceptibly shaking. "Don't you want that?" Faith locked eyes with her.

Everyone in the room – minus the demon – jumped as the door unexpectedly burst open, and Xander flew in brandishing a very large, angry-looking sword. It was incredibly sharp, the pointed end glinting as he flung it about. He pointed it at the woman.

"I think you ought to be leaving now." He stared her down with his one good eye, unblinking, full of assurance – somewhat.

She laughed at him. "You couldn't even swing that piece of metal close enough to nick me."

He steadied his voice. "You wanna bet? I've gotten pretty damn good with this thing." He didn't falter or take his eyes off of her.

The woman spared him another second's glance before looking back at Faith, holding her gaze for several long seconds. She smiled devilishly. "We'll meet again." And with that, she was gone. A small trace of black smoke was all that marked the place where she stood. Faith resisted the urge to crumple.

Buffy looked over at Willow. "Yeah, I'd say you were right about today."

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