The New World by Hellmouth Guy

Rating: NC-17
Disclaimer: Series trademarks, all publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. No money is being made from these works. No copyright infringement is intended.
Distribution: The Mystic Muse http://mysticmuse.net
The Hellmouth Revisited.
Feedback: Thank you.
Spoilers: None.
Author's Notes: Seventeen-year old Faith Lehane has been living on the streets of Boston for two years now, ever since she ran away from home, doing what she has to in order to survive. She gets by on looks and charm, luck and swagger, an ample helping of street smarts, and most of all, knowing when to run. But even though running is her specialty, she can't dodge a bullet forever: Faith's destiny catches up to her, and she discovers there really are monsters in the world…and heroes to fight them… Enter Rebecca Greer, Faith's Watcher. Rebecca takes Faith in, teaches her how to fight, how to be strong…and how to respect herself. Because some day, Faith might become the next Slayer… The next Slayer is called, and she just happens to be from Boston. Faith revels in her power, but she soon finds that being the Slayer means you have a target on your back. And when Kakistos, a vampire who seemingly can't be killed, comes looking to destroy the new Slayer and everyone she cares about, and the life Faith had built for herself comes crashing down around her, she has no choice but to run again…and the only way to protect the man she loves is to leave him behind. Faith runs to Sunnydale…to Buffy Summers. The only person who can help her. But even if the two Slayers can manage to defeat Kakistos and his followers, a far greater threat looms…the greatest threat the world has ever known. If Faith and Buffy can survive it, they just might find that out of the ashes of their old lives, they can build a new one together.

Pairing: Buffy/Faith
Summary: When Kakistos comes looking to destroy the new Slayer and everyone she cares about, and the life Faith had built for herself comes crashing down around her, she has no choice but to run again.

It was November and winter had arrived a good month early just to make damn sure everyone in Boston knew it wasn't screwing around this year. It barged in uninvited, tracked mud on the good carpet and made itself right at home, and it meant to stay awhile. People scurried along the nearly deserted streets, hugging themselves as the wind rifled through their clothes with icy fingers, stealing their warmth away, chilling them down to the bone.

The day had started cold right from the jump and the night had ended up freezing, with a hard east wind off the water that made it worse. But it was crystal clear too, a night that went on forever full of big, bright stars, the kind Boston only got at that time of year. The sky was full of diamonds that night, and the full moon was the crown jewel, the brightest, most beautiful of all. Looking up at that sky, Faith was able to forget how cold she was for awhile.

She was in Allston, the college part of town in Boston, making the hike to an apartment building she knew a couple of miles down the road. She'd made a few calls but she hadn't been able to find a couch to crash on for the night, and she had nowhere else to go. She'd spent the day shuttling between the arcade and the McDonald's and the drug store, trying to stay warm, but they were all onto her now and she either had to buy something or take off. Faith didn't have any money to buy anything. The apartment building she was heading for was an old dump that looked like it had been converted from a jail, and it was full of dealers and hookers. But the smelly old live-in super still hadn't torn himself away from his Jack Daniels and his Cinemax long enough to fix the lock on the back door and sneaking in there and laying low until morning was better than freezing.

Faith's beat-up old leather coat wasn't worth a damn in this kind of cold and the blue mittens she'd had since she was twelve had seen better days. But after twenty minutes of dragging herself through the wind and rubbing her hands together and stomping her boots to get some blood moving in her legs things started looking up: four college guys happened by and started talking to her. Faith was a scrawny little thing; two years on the street had taken a toll. But she was still a pretty girl, with her long, dark hair, big, brown eyes with movie star lashes, and a beautiful smile – and she had discovered over the years that pretty girls always had options. Unfortunately the options weren't all good ones. If it meant fun, free food and getting out of the cold, Faith was always game, but she had learned the hard way that there were dangerous people out there. So she looked the guys over before she got her hopes up, and tried to get a read on them.

"Hey dudes, what's up?" Faith said, with a sexy smile. Faith worked that smile; on the street it put food in her belly and a roof over her head.

"You're gonna party with us, sweet-cakes. It's gonna be cool," one of the college guys said. He was a blonde kid the size of a sperm whale with wispy chin hair and no neck to speak of, wearing a Red Sox cap.

"Hey, I like parties," Faith said. "But first there's just this little problem of me not having said I'll show just yet. Where's this party at?"

"Party's right here, hon," another one, a wiry little Irish guy with a crewcut and freckles, said.

"Uh…what?" Faith said. She had an alarm that went off in her head sometimes, when things got a little dicey. She needed the alarm; it was just as important to her on the street as the smile and had done just as much to keep her alive. The alarm was going off now.

"You, us," the third one said. "Here, now." He was pudgy and going bald, with small features all crowded in the middle of his flabby face. He wore a sport coat and a yellow tie, and Faith thought he looked like a Republican.

"Okay, and what are you guys talking about?" Faith said, and chuckled like they were just being funny. But she knew something was wrong. She'd been in tight spots with guys before, and she had come to understand that when guys traveled together, they were like dogs: they were a pack. A guy alone could be sweet, but once he hooked up with his buddies, he could turn on you. Faith knew the trick with dogs: don't let them know you're afraid. So she kept on smiling, and tried to come up with an exit strategy.

"She sure is a pretty girl," the fourth one, a tall, thin Asian guy with long black hair, said. "I like her."

"Think I'm pretty, huh? Aw, thanks dude, that's sweet," Faith said, and smiled some more, and played dumb, and looked around her; not panicking, just taking in the street. She knew if she panicked the four of them would be worse. They all stood closer to her now, had all gotten up in her space. They hadn't made a move yet, hadn't touched her, but the signs were all there. Faith knew that when they were in groups, guys who liked hurting girls usually took their time first, joked around with their buddies, got their courage up. Faith had seen it before. And she had always managed to get out of it before, to get away before it got bad, before anyone had a chance to hurt her. She did it by keeping her head, staying calm, not letting herself panic.

Faith's hands were numb, and she shivered. She was hungry. She hadn't eaten since yesterday and that was a candy bar she shoplifted. And she was tired. Tired of being cold, tired of being hungry, tired of pretending to smile, tired of sleeping on strangers' couches, or the street. She forced her fear back down.

She had run from Southie's D Street Projects – all sterile green cinderblock walls and cold, echoing concrete hallways littered with condoms and cigarette butts – to the hard, gray streets of Boston, with its towering skyscrapers climbing perpetually up into the sky and the weary, suspicious eyes of its people cast down. She had run from school, from her Mom's boyfriends, from getting smacked around when the booze ran out between welfare checks…from being bored.

She was fifteen when she ran away. She left her Mom, blew off school, and disappeared off the grid. That's what Faith liked to call it anyway, because someone said it in this movie she liked and it made her feel cool, like a secret agent. All it really meant was she crashed on people's couches, scrounged for food, stole stuff and sometimes slept on a bench. But it was better than her Mom's place, with her Mom's loser boyfriends and the booze and getting smacked around…better than the dirty, peeling linoleum floors and her Mom's soap operas on the chintzy nineteen-inch TV…better than the green cinderblock walls and cold, echoing hallways of D Street, and the generations of beaten, downcast eyes that had looked at them, knowing they'd never leave that place: leaving part of themselves there, an invisible, yet indelible mark, instead.

She had two rules once she hit the street, two lines she had drawn, promises she had made to herself and kept. Rule number one was, she never had sex for money. There had been offers. She'd always refused, no matter how hungry she was. She'd said no, to some fat guy from the suburbs who cruised by her in a Lincoln Town Car and offered her two-hundred dollars when she was hanging on a corner downtown, just the week before. Rule number two was, she didn't do drugs. There had been plenty of offers for that, too. Scoring coke or smack or E was plenty easy at parties; everyone wanted to hook a pretty girl up.

But sometimes, when she was at a party, she'd done things, because it was expected…she stayed away from drugs, but she drank a lot and let herself get pretty wasted. It made things go smoother, and Faith soon found she had a taste for the hard stuff, whiskey and vodka. She'd done other things, too. Because they were expected. Once the party was over, if she wanted to be able to stay for a few days, she had to do things, and a warm house was better than the street. They'd fed her, given her a place to sleep…so she'd done things with guys. Only with the cute ones, the ones she liked anyway. And she never went all the way with them.

But she gave one guy a blowjob. And it was easy…so she did it again, with another guy, at another party, when he let her crash at his parents' place for a weekend, and she told herself she liked him and maybe it was like they were on a date, maybe he could be her boyfriend, and it would be okay…

When he came, he came in her mouth, and he held her head down, and didn't let her up until she'd swallowed it. She remembered how it tasted. Bitter. "Hey, that was real nice, thanks hon," he had said, when he was finished with her, and he walked away, got dressed, and went out. There was a lot of leftover booze around the house and Faith started drinking after that; she woke up the next day on a park bench with no idea how she'd gotten there, wearing someone else's tee-shirt and sweatpants, and she didn't have her underwear anymore.

She'd had a few boyfriends, here and there; guys she dated who she thought were okay at first. They were always nice, for a little while…as long as it took to get into her pants. But they never lasted, and in the end they never treated her any better than the guys she met at the parties. She lost her virginity when she was sixteen to a guy named Ronnie who lived in his parents' basement and didn't have a job. She dumped him a few weeks later after he took her out for her birthday and made her pay.

And when winter came, and it was too cold to sleep outside, Faith made the rounds of all the colleges, getting drunk in dorms and sleeping on frat house couches, and as the months passed, the word had gotten around, somehow…you wanted Faith at your kegger. She was a party girl, she was up for anything, she gave great head. She heard some guys laughing about it once, telling stories about how they'd fucked her. They hadn't, but they told the stories anyway.

It was Faith's birthday, and she had spent her day thinking about those lines she had drawn, the promises she had made, as she wandered in and out of all the stores without any money to spend, trying to stay warm. She had been wondering if there was a difference between having sex for cash, and giving head for food and a place to sleep…if there was a difference between getting wasted every other night on smack and getting wasted every other night on booze. Either way you still ended up on a bench in the morning without your panties on. Either way you were still a whore.

Faith thought she had drawn lines for herself, that she had made promises to herself and kept them, but everything got complicated and confused, and all the lines she ever tried to draw, all the promises she ever tried to make, they got blurry, they got broken…

Faith watched the four college guys, and acted like she was dumb, and thought about how to get away…and she wanted to cry. She made herself smile.

She was on a little side street and there were no people around and no traffic. But it wasn't late, only about seven-thirty. It was cold but there would still be people out; if she ran and she could just make it to Harvard Avenue, where all the restaurants were, she knew she could find people, crowds. It was cold enough that Faith didn't think the college guys would attack her right there. And anyway Faith knew they'd want to take their time with her, when they got down to it; there were four of them and they'd all want a turn.

She figured they'd try to bring her somewhere. Maybe they wouldn't even hit her. Maybe they'd bring her to someone's house, and party with her, but they'd make sure she understood that until she put out for all of them she wouldn't get to leave. It had happened to girls she knew. Guys called it "running a train." Or there was always the chance these guys would chicken out. For all their tough talk, most guys, even the ones who really hated girls, knew there was a difference between fantasizing about it and doing it. In situations like this Faith knew there was usually one guy in the group who kept his head, who was the voice of reason, who didn't let the rest get carried away. But this group didn't seem to have anyone like that. They were all on the same page. And they weren't drunk, which would make getting away from them harder. But not impossible. One thing Faith knew how to do was run. One way or another, she'd been running for two years. She just had to pick the right moment…

It had suddenly become deformed, somehow, and his teeth had become long fangs…

He grabbed Faith by the hair, and pulled her toward those fangs, and laughed as she screamed. And then Faith saw the other three change too….turn into monsters right in front of her…

Faith kneed the Asian guy in the balls, and ran. She tried not to panic as she ran down the street, as she heard them chasing her, laughing…

Faith was fast but somehow they caught up to her in seconds, and surrounded her in the middle of the street, growling a little now and circling her. Like dogs…like wolves.

"Maybe she likes it rough," Freckles said. Faith looked around. There was no traffic. There were no people. Harvard Avenue was more than six blocks away.

"Help!" Faith screamed. "SOMEBODY HELP ME!" Her voice echoed down the street. Faith looked around at all the houses. No curtains moved. No one looked out their windows.

The four college guys…the four monsters…laughed. "But we can play rough, right fellas?" Freckles said, and backhanded Faith across the face. She went flying and hit the street hard.

She tried to stand up. Her Mom had smacked her around on a regular schedule and a couple of her Mom's boyfriends had gotten their shots in too, but no one had ever hit her that hard before in her life. Her legs felt wobbly. She heard the Republican say, "Dudes. A little discretion please?"

"There's a nice, private spot," Red Sox Cap said, and grabbed Faith by her coat collar and heaved her across the street into an alley. She flew thirty feet through the air and skidded across the ground and smashed into a garbage barrel, spilling trash all over her.

The garbage smelled like old coffee grounds and rotten meat and bananas. The ground was slimy with it. Faith's head felt like someone had twisted it off. Everything was spinning a little.

She looked out at the street, tried to get her eyes to focus, tried to catch the carousel as it came around again. The monsters were there. Laughing at her now.

Her life, such as it was, came into her thoughts. It didn't flash in front of her eyes like some great revelation. It just…occurred to her. She could think about it, in these last moments, or not. The memories were all there, waiting for her. She could take them or leave them. Mostly, she left them. She hadn't much liked them the first time around.

But she wondered how she had ended up in the alley…wondered how all the memories had led here, to this place, to this last moment of her life.

"Heard you give great head, honey," Red Sox Cap said, his voice echoing down the cold, deserted street. They all laughed even harder. "Heard you're a world class skank. World class."

Faith looked up at the stars. Her vision was clearing a little; things weren't spinning as much as before. She could see her breath in the air, white on black, each breath floating up into the sky, making its mark on the world, and then slowly fading away to nothing in the cold, until only the black remained.

She thought about trying to run again. But she wasn't even sure she could stand and there wasn't any real point in trying; she knew she couldn't outrun them. They were fast, inhumanly fast, faster than anyone she'd ever seen. She was used to the garbage smell now anyway. And she knew it would all be over soon.

She sifted through her memories, trying to find the one wrong move, the one disastrous mistake, that had sent her world careening off its axis; that had, finally, made this her life…made this her death. But she couldn't find any one thing. It was a bunch of little things, and they had all just…caught up to her. And now here she was, in the alley, sitting in garbage…and she was going to die.

She knew how she'd ended up in that alley. She knew what had brought her to this pass, what had made this her life. She knew why she was going to die.

She knew she was going to die because she lived on the street like a lowlife and gave blowjobs at parties like a whore and stole like a thief and no one had ever given a shit about her and at the end of the day, she was just another piece of garbage. Someone no one would ever miss, or even think twice about.

She had never gone back to her Mom's house. Faith pretended it was because she had too much pride. But she knew the real reason she had never gone back, no matter how cold it was outside, no matter how long it had been since she'd eaten, was that she didn't think her Mom would let her in.

Faith had been on the street two years. She'd run into cops before. She knew her Mom had never called them. Never even reported her missing.

Faith shivered in the cold, and cried. Her tears, partially frozen, felt like little spider webs on her cheeks.

She saw life, saw her life, for what it was: a series of decisions. Faith knew she had made those decisions, that no one had made them for her. And those decisions in turn had made her what she was, made her life what it was. And she knew now that they were all the wrong decisions, and it was time for her to pay for them.

The four monsters strolled across the street toward her now, grinning. Faith looked back at them, and waited for them to come and kill her, and cried, and felt cold…

And then a silver Lexus barreled around the corner like a rocket and smashed into the monsters, running right over two of them and sending the other two flying through the air. Faith heard the car screech to a stop somewhere up the street. Then it backed up way too fast, and stopped right in front of the alley.

She stood tall and straight, and she wore a classy, well-tailored gray business suit and expensive-looking shoes. She looked about thirty or so, with fine, pale skin, and her hair was done in a stylish blonde pageboy. She was pretty. She could have been an angel, standing there in the dark.

"My name is Rebecca Greer," the woman said. "I know we've never met. But I want to help you, Faith. I've been looking for you."

"That's okay," Rebecca said, and smiled. "Listen. You have to come with me now, I need to get you away from those boys before they try to hurt you again. Will you let me take you out of here?"

"You…you ran them over." Faith looked out at the street. Two of them were lying there. She couldn't see the other two.

"They're not dead. I don't have time to explain it all right now, but they're still alive, and they can wake up any second. We have to leave."

Rebecca had an English accent, and the most beautiful eyes: deep, dark blue, like the ocean on a summer day. And there were tiny crow's feet at the corners of Rebecca's eyes, that told Faith Rebecca was older than she looked. But they didn't detract from her appearance; Faith thought they made her look even prettier.

Faith knew Rebecca didn't belong in that alley. She knew Rebecca didn't belong with someone like her.

"I don't want it to be like this anymore," Faith said, looking down at the ground, at the garbage all around her, and crying. "I don't want this to be my life. I don't wanna…be the girl who gives blowjobs at parties and…steals and…always feel cold all the time and…and be garbage. I don't wanna be garbage anymore."

"You're not garbage," Rebecca said, and took Faith's hand. "You're not. I'm going to help you, Faith, if you'll let me. But we have to get out of here, all right? You're in danger here." Faith nodded, and Rebecca helped her up…

Faith jumped. The four college guys…the four monsters…were back. They stood at the entrance to the alley, smiling.

"Now that was rude," the Republican said. He had a tire track running across his sport coat. "And, not for nothing but, hey, Hugo Boss. Jesus, lady."

Faith felt like invisible hands were clutching her throat, like she couldn't get enough air in. Rebecca had run them over, but now they were back, and they didn't even look hurt…their faces were still deformed…they were monsters…

"Rude?" Rebecca hissed, and marched right up to the monsters and looked them in the eyes. "No."

"THIS IS RUDE!" Rebecca screamed, and pulled a bottle from her coat pocket and smashed it into the Republican's face. The bottle looked like it was filled with water, but the Republican screamed, smoke rising from his face like he'd been burned with acid, and he ran out of the alley like a whipped dog. The other three growled and came at Rebecca, and Faith watched in amazement as Rebecca elbowed Freckles in the neck, spun and launched a fast high kick that sent Red Sox Cap flying back into a wall, avoided the Asian guy as he slashed at her with hands like claws, and flipped him over her shoulder.

"Faith, get in the car!" Rebecca shouted, holding what looked like a piece of wood in her hand now, as the three monsters got back up. They surrounded Rebecca, snarling and snapping at her, as Faith ran into the Lexus and locked it behind her.

Freckles sprang at Rebecca; she aimed a brutal kick at his balls and sent him tumbling to the ground.

Faith sat in the Lexus, with tears in her eyes, shaking. She knew how to hotwire a car; Steve, her klepto car thief boyfriend, had taught her when they dated for that month before he got sent to prison. She checked the key mechanism. She could start the Lexus up and be out of there in thirty seconds.

She watched Rebecca, standing up to the monsters. Rebecca was protecting her, just like she said she would…she was risking her life for her. This woman she had never met before was protecting her…a girl she found in an alley, sitting in a pile of garbage.

"The skank speaks," Red Sox Cap said. Freckles got up, still bent over a little in pain. The three monsters circled around Rebecca and Faith, snarling.

"Hope to see you again, pretty girl," the Asian guy said, and leered at Faith like a jackal.

Rebecca adjusted her suit and fixed her hair. To Faith she seemed so tall and stern and blue-eyed and pretty…like some goddess looking down at her from Mount Olympus. And not altogether approving of what she saw. But Rebecca smiled again.

They hopped in the Lexus and burned rubber out of there, an idea Faith enthusiastically supported. For one thing, it was about ten degrees outside now and the Lexus was nice and warm. For another, she'd had skirmishes with cops before and she thought maybe they'd have a problem believing a story about monster guys who got back up after you ran them over. Faith knew cops were just skeptical like that.

"Are you sure you're all right?" Rebecca said. Faith didn't know where Rebecca was taking them; she seemed to be heading back downtown.

"That? That was nothing. The day a bunch of louts like those give me an ounce of trouble I'll retire straightaway."

Rebecca looked at her. Faith was 5'5" and there wasn't an ounce of fat on her. Her cheekbones were sunken. Rebecca knew she couldn't weigh a hundred pounds.

"Well. This is a wretched little hamlet, but I passed a restaurant downtown earlier that didn't seem a completely lost cause," Rebecca said. "Shall we get some supper?"

"Americans," Rebecca said with a smile. "I really do enjoy you all. No. I don't imagine we'll be having any crumpets. Though I may have tea with my dessert, and you can too, if you want."

"How come you helped me? How come you knew my name and you were looking for me?"

And she drove Faith away from the wretched little hamlet…away from green cinderblock walls and peeling linoleum floors, and cold winter days spent on the street, and nights spent drunk on strangers' couches…away from wandering, without discipline, without purpose…and into a new world.

A world of demons and vampires. A world of monsters, and heroes to fight them. Or one hero, to be exact. One female hero. The Slayer, the one girl in all the world who was called upon by destiny to defend humanity against the encroaching darkness, against the threats that lurked just beyond our perceptions…

"Buffy Summers became the Slayer about a year ago when Madeleine Lambert, the previous Slayer, was killed by an extremely powerful vampire named Kakistos," Rebecca said. "Last spring Buffy was injured and was clinically dead for a short time. She was revived, but she had been dead long enough for a new Slayer to be called. That Slayer's name is Kendra Young; she's from Jamaica. So now there are two Slayers. The situation is…unique."

"I imagine it's a family name of some sort. Some unfortunate attempt to honor a great-grandmother or an old aunt with six cats. But I've read some reports…the girl is quite resourceful. She's won some impressive battles."

They were eating in a restaurant in Boston by the Harbor. Faith liked the place. It was ritzy, elegant, with walls done in oak, and chandeliers hanging down from the high ceilings; a good place to eat and talk. Faith noticed the nice rugs, and good paintings of boats and landscapes and horses on the walls. And she noticed a lot of rich people, or they may as well have been as far as she was concerned. Lots of suits, polished shoes and expensive watches. There was a great view of Boston Harbor, with all the city lights reflecting on the water and the cold December wind whipping the waves over the docks a little, and the waiter never said a word about how Faith was dressed. Maybe Rebecca was dressed classy enough for two.

Faith ate her steak and her baked potato, and looked around at all the rich people and the good paintings, and tried to decide just exactly how crazy Rebecca was. So far Rebecca had talked about magic, vampires, and girls with superpowers, and Faith was wondering when she'd get to the part about aliens and government conspiracies, or maybe the Loch Ness Monster. Faith didn't know what was up with those four guys exactly, why their faces suddenly got all deformed, how they survived being run over.

"Uh-huh," Faith said, concentrating on her steak and nodding in all the right places as Rebecca talked. It was a good steak.

When Faith was finished eating, Rebecca raised her eyebrow and said, "Do you like chocolate cake?"

"I thought so. You look like a chocolate girl," Rebecca said, as the waiter came up behind Faith, and placed a chocolate birthday cake with seventeen candles on the table in front of her.

Faith was glad the waiter went away without singing. Rebecca didn't sing either. But she smiled.

Faith blew out the candles, and made a wish…and smiled, and wiped a tear from her eye.

Later that night, the Lexus purred incongruously through a run-down neighborhood of warehouses, industrial parks and weed-grown lots. Graffiti marred every wall, and the cold wind blew trash down the empty streets like tumbleweeds in an old West ghost town. Junkies huddled in alleys, dressed in rags, watching the Lexus with sunken, half-dead eyes.

Faith looked out the window at the Boston skyline across the Harbor as they drove, at all those majestic skyscrapers reflecting the moon, and promising the world. Faith had stood beneath those skyscrapers, looking up at those soaring spires while everyone else's eyes were looking down; as they all scurried about the sad, tedious business of living out their days. And she knew the promise was an illusion…a lie. The Harbor water looked cold and black.

"Don't get me wrong, Faith," Rebecca said. "There's no reason you should believe me. A woman appears out of nowhere telling outlandish stories about vampires and girls with super-strength? Preposterous. But let me ask you a question. Do you have an explanation for those four boys?"

"I do," Rebecca said. "They were vampires. And even though it all sounds ridiculous, everything I told you is true. And I'm going to prove it to you. I'm going to open your eyes and show you the world. I might shock you, Faith. I might scare you. But I'll never lie to you. That's why I told you the truth about Slayers and vampires and demons in the restaurant when I knew you were looking at me like I have two heads. Because you have to know you can trust me."

Rebecca looked down the street, apparently saw what she was looking for, and parked in a narrow alley beside a boarded-up laundromat.

"Stay in the car, Faith," Rebecca said. "And pay attention." Rebecca was watching a man as he walked down the street toward them.

"Who's that guy…?" Faith said. "Why is he…what's he want?" Faith thought about running. She could run right now. But she didn't even know where she was and it was freezing outside…and she wanted to stay with Rebecca.

Rebecca turned to Faith, and looked her in the eyes. "Faith, I know you don't believe me," she said. "I know you're scared. But you'll be all right, I promise. I'd never let anyone hurt you. Just stay in the car."

The man was almost at the car. Faith thought he looked like a biker. He was wearing a leather coat, with biker colors. He had long hair, a bandana, and a bushy beard…but now Faith could see that his face was deformed…

It was over in about five seconds. Rebecca kicked the man in the stomach, elbowed him in the back of the neck, smashed his face into the pavement and he was out cold.

She pulled a pair of handcuffs from her coat, cuffed his hands behind his back, walked away from him and opened the car door. "Go into the glove compartment and get the cross and the bottle," she said, and returned to the man.

Faith opened the glove compartment and found a wooden cross and a glass bottle filled with a clear liquid, like the one Rebecca had smashed into the Republican's face. She noticed the bottle had a little cross imprinted on the front. She got out of the car, and crept out of the alley. Rebecca was crouched down beside the biker. He was still unconscious. Rebecca had her back turned to her.

Rebecca turned the man over, lifted his lips, and tilted his face toward the streetlight, so Faith could see. There were ridges and bumps on his forehead. He had long, pointed teeth.

"Note the deformed cranial structure and the canine teeth," Rebecca said. "Vampires look like this in their natural state, when they're about to feed. But they can change their appearance at will, passing for human. Most people have seen a vampire at some point in their lives, without realizing it."

Rebecca smiled, and raised her eyebrow. "I know," she said. "You still don't believe me. To be expected. Hand me that cross."

"This should wake the old fellow up," Rebecca said, and the cross began to burn the man's forehead, smoke actually rising from it. He screamed and tried to move, but Rebecca clubbed him in the face with her forearm, and he fell back against the pavement, growling and baring his fangs. Rebecca's knee was on his stomach and her forearm was tight against his neck. He was immobile beneath her on the pavement like a rat in a rat trap.

"What…the fuck…?" Faith said, as tendrils of smoke rose from the man's forehead, and his skin hissed and cooked like meat in a frying pan.

"Swearing is a crutch we use when we can't think of a more appropriate word," Rebecca said. "It masks limited vocabulary and makes one seem crude. Don't swear."

"Better. Vampires can't bear crosses. See how his skin is smoking? With long enough exposure he'll begin to burn. Now the bottle, please."

Faith handed her the bottle. When Rebecca put the cross down Faith noticed that its shape was burned into the man's skin. Rebecca took the cap off the bottle, and sprinkled some of the liquid on her own hand. It had no effect. "This is water," Rebecca said. "It can't hurt me, obviously. But it's not ordinary water. It's holy water, which means it's been blessed by a priest. Watch."

Rebecca sprinkled the water on the man's face. He screamed, and his face turned black and began to smoke where the drops landed, as if the water was acid.

Rebecca looked at Faith, and poured the water on her own hand again. Nothing happened.

"Holy water can hurt vampires, like it hurt our friend in the Hugo Boss coat," Rebecca said. "A high enough concentration of it can kill them, though like a cross it would take awhile. No, your best friend for killing a vampire is this." She pulled a wooden stake from her coat pocket.

"A wooden stake to the heart, and the vampire dies instantly," Rebecca said. "This is going to be shocking, Faith." The man desperately tried to get up now, growling and screaming. Faith looked around. Screaming wouldn't do a whole lot of good in this neighborhood. Rebecca brutally elbowed the man in the face, cracking his head against the sidewalk, and he fell unconscious again. His screams echoed down the dirty street, and faded away.

Faith jumped backwards, and sat under the streetlight, gaping at the pile of dust…at the dust, already scattering away on the cold wind, that was all that remained of the man…

Rebecca stood up, and looked at Faith, her stern blue eyes fixed on her. Faith felt those blue eyes; she felt their weight.

Above Rebecca's head, the full moon had made it over the ugly old factory down the street, and it peered down at Faith with her, a perfect circle of pure white.

"You're a potential Slayer, Faith," Rebecca said. "One of many around the world. No one can know which one will become the next Slayer. But it's certain that one of them will. All we can do is prepare them. I'm your Watcher. I'm here to prepare you."

The street was quiet, and cold. Only the wind made any sound, but even it was hushed now. It was as if the world had paused. Faith felt like the world was watching her, and waiting…

"I'm going to teach you how to fight," Rebecca said. "I'm going to teach you about your enemies, and the world that's been kept hidden from you. And I'm going to teach you about yourself. You're stronger and better than you know. You're important, Faith; you matter. Don't ever let yourself think you don't."

"You're special, Faith," Rebecca said. "But not just because you're a potential Slayer. You're special, because you're a very brave, and good, young woman. I know why you ran away. It's time to stop running now."

Rebecca held out her hand…from Mount Olympus, from atop those skyscrapers across the Harbor that reflected the moon, and promised the world.

"This is yours," Rebecca said the next morning. She was holding a wooden stake in her hand. "It's good solid ironwood and it will last you a good long time."

They were standing in the living room of the three-story brownstone Rebecca had purchased a few weeks before at the corner of Commonwealth Avenue and Berkeley Street, the big bow window filling the room with light. Rebecca had furnished the house with beautiful antique furniture, and there was a grand piano in the living room, and she hinted ominously at giving Faith lessons. The whole house had hardwood floors, and there was a real working fireplace. When Faith looked out the window she could see that their front lawn, bursting with violets and tulips, was the biggest one on the whole street. Her mother's entire apartment could have fit in the dining room. Faith thought it was a castle. But when she remembered that house in later years, she would mostly remember how bright it was; it always seemed full of sunlight.

Faith took the stake, looked at it, got a feel for it in her hand. It was very dark brown, smooth and polished. Faith liked the grain of the wood. She liked the way it fit in her hand.

"I don't want to see you without it," Rebecca said. "When you go out that stake goes in your pocket. I don't care where you are or who you're with, it must be within reach, at all times."

Commonwealth Avenue was in the rich part of Boston; it was a very wide street with grand old townhouses running up and down, each with a tiny little front yard meticulously laid out with flowers. But Faith thought the best thing about it was the tree-lined greenway running down the middle, where kids would walk their dogs and toss frisbees around among the old bronze statues, and the trees would drop leaves all over the place, making the street look like a painting. To a girl from the Southie projects, it was a kind of magic.

"Yes, it'll have to do, I suppose," was what Rebecca said, when Faith looked out at it.

They didn't get to work right away. First, Rebecca had decided Faith needed some things, starting with a new wardrobe. Faith liked Rebecca, but she didn't like charity, and every time Rebecca gave her something Faith felt like something was being taken away from her. Like loans she couldn't repay…like promises she couldn't keep. Faith tried to convince Rebecca that she could make do with just a couple more pairs of cheap jeans and a few shirts, But Rebecca wasn't having any of it. "Nonsense," Rebecca had said. "You need clothes and I'll hear no more on the subject." And that was that.

So Faith stood in front of the mirror that afternoon outside the changing room in Bloomingdale's, a very upscale clothing store in a mall about a twenty minute drive from Rebecca's house. It was called the Chestnut Hill Mall and Faith had never been there before, but she thought it looked pretty swank. Rebecca had heard good things about it and wanted to "have a look about".

Faith stood in front of the mirror, wearing a dress and high heeled shoes, feeling like one of those ridiculous little rat dogs old women lugged around, all bundled up in little doggie sweaters with bows in their hair. She felt like she was on a leash. She looked at the mirror like she wanted to pick a fight with it.

Rebecca stood behind her, and smiled. "Yes, quite sure," she said. "I'm sure it looks wonderful on you, and I'm also sure you hate it."

"I'll make you a deal, Faith. You do need some dresses and skirts, and good shoes; I want you to be able to dress up on occasion. But I don't want you to be uncomfortable. Pick out a few dresses and a few skirts and blouses, and at least two pairs of good shoes, and then you can pick out as many pairs of jeans and boots and all the rest as you please. Sound good?"

"Faith," Rebecca said. "I know this makes you uncomfortable. I know you think this is charity. But it isn't."

"I know this is hard for you," Rebecca said. "Harder, in a way, than living on your own was. Because it's hard to be given things when you feel you haven't earned them, when you feel that you're in someone's debt, and you can't see any way of ever repaying that debt. But this isn't about putting you in my debt. This is about me, not you. It's about me, paying off my own debt."

"I do tend to make speeches sometimes," Rebecca said, with a smile and a raised eyebrow. "I've always been rather trying that way and I'm afraid you'll just have to have a stiff upper lip about the whole ordeal and bear with me."

Rebecca's smile went away. Her deep blue eyes looked at Faith keenly… but Faith thought they were looking at something else.

"We all come into this world with nothing," Rebecca said. "And what we end up having in our lives is often a matter of simple luck. In some countries children die of diseases that were cured decades ago. It's an unjust world, and there is only one real duty we each have in it. It's our duty to try to help where we can. And when someone helps us, we have a debt to repay. We repay the debt by helping someone else. Someone helped me, a long time ago, when I was in a very bad place…a place so bad I never thought I'd make it out. And I have a debt to repay. I have a debt to repay, to you, Faith. I needed help from someone once, and you need help from me now, and someday, someone else will need help from you. We all need help sometimes. That's just life."

"Yes, I give a ripping good speech," Rebecca said. "But unfortunately I can't cook worth a damn so we'll be eating out a lot. And I fancy eating in good restaurants. Assuming I can find us a few in this benighted little burg. And good restaurants tend to frown upon jeans and tee-shirts. And I do like you, you know. You're a good girl, Faith, and you deserve good things."

"A tiny little unenlightened place. But anyway I'm afraid you'll need to dress up on occasion and you'll just have to grit your teeth and get through it. Do you think you can do that?"

"Guess I can handle it," Faith said. She looked in the mirror again. "Gotta admit, I do look just a little bit hot."

Rebecca laughed. It was a high, lilting laugh; it made her sound like a girl. Faith liked it. And it was an infectious laugh; Faith found herself laughing too.

Faith sat in her room two days later, in the sneakers and sweatpants that Rebecca had bought her, looking down at the floor. It was a nice room, like every other part of the house: big, with hardwood floors and a bow window that let in lots of light. But Faith knew it wasn't hers, not really. It belonged to Rebecca, just like everything else Faith had.

Rebecca had put her through a grueling workout the day before, and Faith's entire body ached. They had run a mile, and at the end of it Faith's legs felt like rubber bands. Then there was an hour of weightlifting. They worked on the chest and triceps that first day, and Faith wasn't strong enough to get any weight up on the bench; she had to lift the bar without any plates on it, and she barely managed to get even that up once. After that Rebecca taught her how to hit the heavy bag. It always looked fun in the movies; Faith had no idea it would be so exhausting. She was dripping with sweat within minutes. Then there was a little rubber punching bag that looked like a balloon that was nailed up on the wall; Rebecca said it was called the speed bag and all you had to do was hit it really fast, getting your hands into a rhythm. After twenty minutes Faith hadn't managed to hit it more than three times in succession, though she had managed to hit the nail a couple of times. And after that Rebecca and Faith had sparred for a couple of hours. Though Faith thought calling it "sparring" would be a charitable description; it was more like Rebecca tossed Faith around, and Faith landed exactly where Rebecca threw her on the mat.

Faith had never felt so exhausted in her life. And Rebecca had told her they were going easy that first day. Faith's finger had a band-aid on it where she hit the nail on the speed bag, and it still hurt.

She sat on the king-sized four-poster bed, the kind she'd only seen in movies and always wished she had, in the big, beautiful room in the big, beautiful house, her whole body sore, her hand aching from the nail…and she looked out the window at the morning, and thought about her old bicycle.

The local church had given it to her in their yearly charity drive. It was a beat-up little pink bike, with a basket and a bell and a few old fading decals, and it was rusty. The other kids made fun of it. But Faith was only ten years old, and she loved that goofy little pink bike, rust and all. She just didn't know how to ride it…

There was a knock at the door. It surprised her. She'd never had her own room with a door on it before.

Rebecca walked into the room in her sneakers and sweats, and sat next to her on the bed.

"It's your house too," Rebecca said. Faith shrugged her shoulders, and looked back down at the floor.

"So how did you like your first day?" Rebecca said. "I expect you're feeling rather sore this morning."

"I know yesterday was tough. Today will be too. But you'll get better at it, and very quickly."

When Faith brought the bike home her mother said, "Where'd you steal that thing?"

"Cops find out you stole it I'll fuckin' smack you silly, little girl," her mother said. "I don't need no cops here."

Her mother laughed, a hoarse laugh, laced with cigarette smoke. "Sure, like you didn't steal those jeans last month," she said. "You always been a little thief. Don't matter to me what you do. But if the cops grab you and I gotta explain it to them I'll smack you silly. Smack you fuckin' silly, so help me Jesus."

"In a week you'll be running that mile like it's the easiest thing in the world," Rebecca said. "In a month you'll be twice as strong as you are now, and you'll make that speed bag dance."

Faith chuckled. "Now I know you're fuckin' shitting me," she said. "Besides, twice as strong as zero's still zero, right?"

"Faith," Rebecca said, in a tone that Faith hadn't heard her use before. It made Faith snap her head up, startled.

"And that bar you were lifting weighs thirty pounds even without any plates on it."

Faith tried to ride the bike, and found that she couldn't. She kept falling off. After a long day of taking headers onto the dirty asphalt behind her building, she finally gave up, and left the bike next to the garbage dumpster. The next day the trash collectors came and took it, and it was gone.

"Because I'm going to help you," Rebecca said. "I'm not telling you it'll be easy. It won't. But I'll be there for every minute of it with you."

"You and me, Faith," Rebecca said. "We'll get through it together. How about it?"

Faith wasn't sure why…but she stuck to it, and did her best, no matter how tired she was, no matter how hard it was. She surprised herself. She didn't think she could be so patient. She didn't think she could try so hard…and then she remembered what Rebecca had said to her.

They ran in the mornings, and hit the heavy bag, six days a week, and lifted weights four days a week. Afternoons were learning how to fight: aikido, boxing, weapons training, and a kind of street fighting called Krav Maga that was used in the Israeli Defense Forces. Faith liked the fighting best and the running worst. She got winded after a few blocks and her legs felt like they were made out of wood by the end of a mile. But Rebecca was right: Faith got better at it quickly, and by the end of that first week she could run the mile without slowing down to a walk and without getting out of breath. And as much as Faith bitched about all the exercise, Rebecca kept her word, and did every single minute of it with her.

Since Rebecca couldn't cook worth a damn and Faith's specialty was grilled cheese sandwiches (which Rebecca called "charming, in an American sort of way"), they ate out a lot. That's where they were the next Friday night, at a swish little steakhouse called Abe and Louie's on Boylston Street a few blocks from Rebecca's house. Faith was uncomfortable; the place had a dress code, and she'd had to wear one of the skirts Rebecca had bought for her. She ate her good steak, and fussed with her hair, and looked around at all the people in their nice clothes. She looked like she belonged with them now. But she knew she didn't.

"Faith, it's Friday night and you've just had a grueling week of exercise and listening to me talk," Rebecca said, and smiled, and drank her wine. Faith had a Coke. Rebecca didn't want her drinking until she was eighteen. "Surely you must want to go out, hang around in clubs listening to rock bands or whatever dodgy things you teenagers get up to these days."

Faith shrugged her shoulders. She didn't have any money. She didn't have any friends. She didn't have anywhere to go.

"Of course, if you'd be willing to put up with me for a bit, I was hoping you'd join me to see the Celtics tomorrow," Rebecca said. "They're playing Chicago; it promises to be quite a barnburner, from what I've been told."

"You're into basketball?" Faith said. Faith had only known her a week, but she had learned pretty quickly that Rebecca was full of surprises.

"I have no idea," Rebecca said. "I've never been to a basketball game. I do like rugby. And one of the things this town has going for it is its sports teams, so I thought we could sample them. How about you? Do you like basketball?"

"You're shi…uh…you're crapping me," Faith said. "How'd you manage that? You know how hard Celts tickets are to get, even crap seats? And against the Bulls? Thought those would have sold out before the season even started."

Rebecca laughed. "Sorry, I'm being British again," she said. "It's a way of saying something is easy. The equivalent here would be, 'that's all there was to it'. So. You and me and Len Bias and Michael Jordan tomorrow. Sound like fun?"

"Good," Rebecca said, laughing again. "And it's an afternoon game, you'll have plenty of time to go out tomorrow night and do God knows what you teenagers do. It will involve boys, no doubt."

Faith shrugged her shoulders again. "Yeah, well…I don't really have plans," she said.

Rebecca went into her purse, pulled money out of it, and slid the money across the table to her. Faith didn't pick it up.

"Faith, if you were any other girl you would have time to work a paying job, and be able to earn your own spending money. But you're not any other girl, you're a potential Slayer, and your job is to let me train you. That job is very hard and it takes up a lot of your time, and you should have some spending money. And you're going to have some spending money. That's a hundred dollars. Every Friday I'm going to give you a hundred more, and you're going to go out and have fun and do whatever you want with it, and that's final."

"I don't want to hear another word," Rebecca said. "Go out, enjoy yourself. Go out dancing, go to a movie, buy some records, buy some earrings."

"I don't really…have anyone to go with," she said. "I mean, there were people I hung out with back in Allston, y'know, people I saw at parties…but…I don't…really have, like, friends I can just call up outta the blue."

"Yes, you do," Rebecca said. "You have me. And I know I'm not the most fabulous sort of friend, but one has to start somewhere."

"Thank heaven, I was beginning to worry," Rebecca said. "But it's a good thing you don't have any other friends right now, and I'm going to tell you why, and I'm going to be blunt about it. Ready?"

"The people you hung around with were worthless," Rebecca said. "If they were still around I wouldn't allow you to see them. You were in that alley for a lot of reasons, and the people you surrounded yourself with were one of those reasons. They weren't your friends. You're well rid of them."

"You're starting from scratch now, Faith," Rebecca said. "You were in a bad place before but now you're out if it, now you're somewhere new, and it will take you time to acclimate yourself."

"Getting used to something new," Rebecca said. "You're starting over. New friends are a part of that. But you'll have to find them, and that's something I can't do for you. You're a lovely girl and anyone would be lucky to be able to count you as their friend. Now I won't force you to go out, and I like your company anyway. And I'm not just saying that. I told you when we first met that I won't ever lie to you, and I assume you trust I'm not lying when I say I like you, I like talking to you, I like your company."

"Because you come right out and say what's on your mind, for one thing," Rebecca said, and smiled. "I like how you try, even though things are hard. I like how you make me laugh. I like how you were just a tiny bit pleased with yourself when I bought you the dress and you saw how you looked in it. I like how you call me 'Becca'. I like how you pout when you can't get a rhythm on the speed bag, and then you take all your frustration out on the punching bag. And I think you're just a bit goofy. But in an endearing way."

"But you need other people in your life, and the only way that can happen is if you go places and meet them," Rebecca said. "You'll be alone in those places at first, but that shouldn't last long."

"Excellent. Go out and dance. And one more thing. You're a smart girl, Faith, but you didn't always use your head, back in Allston. You let people take advantage of you. I don't want you to ever do that again."

"You have a lot to offer," Rebecca said. "People will see that. Just give it time. Not everyone is out to take advantage. There are good people out there too."

"It's just…people see me…guys see me…and they're all thinking one thing, Becca," Faith said.

"You said you didn't want that to be your life anymore, in the alley," Rebecca said. "You made that decision; no one could have made it for you. I didn't make it for you. Now you have to trust that decision, and trust yourself. You don't want that to be your life? Then don't let it be your life. Demand more from people you call your friends. Don't let people take advantage of you. Know that you're worth more than that, that you deserve better than that. When I saw you in that alley I didn't see a scared girl sitting on the ground; I saw a brave girl trying to stand up. So stand up. Stand up and be strong. Not for me. For you."

Rebecca got Faith back up to a good, healthy weight within a month, and after that Rebecca worked on turning that weight into muscle.

The workouts were grueling, but Faith soon found that she liked them, that she liked the structure they gave to her day. After two years on the street with nothing to do but try to stay warm, Faith found she liked having goals; she liked trying to get up to two miles on their runs, and then three; she liked when she could add weight to the barbell. She liked learning new fighting moves, and practicing them until she could do them perfectly without having to think about them. She liked finally getting a rhythm on the damned speed bag. And she liked when Rebecca smiled at her, and told her she was doing well; she liked seeing that look in Rebecca's eyes, when she knew she'd made Rebecca proud of her.

Rebecca gave her nights and Saturdays off ("but be home promptly by one a.m., and don't test me".) And she took Faith places: movies and ball games and museums. It turned out Rebecca did like basketball, and football, and she especially liked hockey ("smashing"). Faith was a little iffy about going to a museum that first time, but she had never been to one before, so she decided to give it a try one Saturday afternoon, and have an open mind. Rebecca had promised they wouldn't be there longer than two hours, and they were going to the movies afterwards, so it was a fair trade-off.

Faith thought the Museum of Fine Arts was kind of boring, that December day, as she trailed along behind Rebecca in a dress and high heels she couldn't wait to get out of, and looked at all the old paintings; but Faith liked seeing new places, and she had never been there before. It was a bright, cavernous, quiet place: Faith thought parts of it looked like a library, and parts like a cathedral, and parts like a castle, and there were long flights of stairs and long hallways done in marble in every part of it that made her shoes echo down the corridors with a click-klack sound. Everyone whispered, as if the paintings might overhear them and get offended. People stood very close to the paintings, studying them, and Faith wondered what they saw there. Faith stood very close to some of the paintings and studied them, and she didn't think she saw anything much.

But she liked hearing Rebecca talk about the paintings. The Museum of Fine Arts was "sadly limited in both its financial resources and its vision, but someday we'll hop over to New York City, or perhaps the Louvre", according to Rebecca, but Faith thought some of the paintings were actually pretty cool. She liked all the Monets, and she liked John Singer Sargent. She didn't stand six inches away and get all enlightened in front of them like a lot of the people there did, or pretended they did, but Faith looked at the paintings, and appreciated them, especially after Rebecca talked about them. She liked how Monet's "Haystacks" looked like different times of day, and she liked the people in Sargent's portraits…they seemed like they were right there in the room with her. Faith wondered what they would have thought if Sargent told them some crazy potential Slayer girl from Boston would be staring in their faces ninety years later.

"Would you like a painting for your room?" Rebecca said, watching her look at the Sargents. "There are some galleries on Newbury Street I'd like to take a look at, and I was thinking of buying a few pieces for the house."

"You mean the Monets and the Sargents? Only if we're prepared to spend a few million dollars," Rebecca said. "So, no. But they'll be original works by new artists, and even Monet and Sargent started out that way at one point; before they were in museums private collectors bought their pieces and hung them in their homes. We may see the next Monet in one of those galleries."

Faith was happy to get out of there and back into her jeans for the movie that night, but when Rebecca asked her if she'd be willing to go back sometime Faith surprised herself by saying yes. She'd spent her life avoiding places like museums, avoiding anything that seemed boring or like work. But she hadn't liked her life much. She remembered what Rebecca told her, about standing up. She felt like she was standing up, in the museum.

Faith liked to dance, and the place she liked to do it was Lansdowne Street. It was a little side street a couple of miles or so down Commonwealth Avenue from Rebecca's house, right by Fenway Park where the Red Sox played, and all the good clubs were there. But it was also right on the way to Allston, and Rebecca didn't like that. The first time Faith brought it up, Rebecca forbade her to go. She forbade her to go to Lansdowne Street or anyplace else anywhere near Allston unless she was with her, actually saying the words "I forbid you", and she got that tone in her voice when she said them, and that was just the end of that. Faith couldn't believe it. No one had ever forbidden her to do something before.

What Faith found even more unbelievable, sitting up in her room an hour later and moping in her brand new jeans and her sexy top and her kick-ass new shoes, was that she was actually doing what Rebecca told her. She didn't go to Lansdowne Street. She sat on her bed, and stared at the wall, and felt pissy about things for awhile, but she didn't try to sneak out. She didn't even know why. She sat there and pouted for an hour, and didn't think about sneaking out; instead she spent the whole hour thinking about why she wasn't thinking about sneaking out.

And then something strange happened. She realized she didn't feel pissy. She realized she had been trying to feel pissy the whole time, but it hadn't been working, and she actually felt pretty good.

Sometimes, Faith was a complete mystery to herself. She shrugged her shoulders, got up, and walked out of the room.

She came back down into the living room with a twinkle in her eye and a bounce in her step and it was all she could do not to smile. She didn't know why she felt happy but she was determined to at least pretend to be pissy, and she felt the smile coming on strong now so she forced herself to think about stuff that annoyed her instead. There was always a lot of that to choose from and she was able to hold the smile back, but the twinkle was still there in her eyes.

Faith sat next to Rebecca on the couch and tried to sound appropriately crabby when she said, "So where can I go then?"

And then Faith looked at Rebecca, and blew it: that damned smile just wouldn't be denied anymore.

After some contentious negotiations, they settled on downtown. There were a decent number of clubs there, not as many or as cool as the club scene on Lansdowne Street, but whatever points downtown Boston lost for lack of variety it made up by being far from Allston and within walking distance of Rebecca's house. Faith tried The Roxy that first night, a club about ten minutes away from Rebecca's that she'd heard good things about, and once she got there, it turned out being forbidden was the best thing that could have happened: she loved the place, and went there to dance two or three nights a week, every week, after that.

It didn't look like much. The Roxy was a wide, dark room that squatted at the bottom of a flight of creaky stairs, and it was always too hot, especially when the music started and the dancing got everyone's body heat up. The furniture consisted of marked-up booths, wobbly tables and chairs and stools and a small bar that looked like they stole it out of some guy's basement, and the ladies room was a whole story in and of itself. The bartender was a big guy named Dan who had blue hair and a nose piercing and a tattoo of a Hula Girl on his big slab of an arm. He gave Faith free Coke refills because he liked her. Faith thought the place was too dark and too hot and too loud and sort of crappy, but they got the dance floor right, and she stomped the hell out of that old wood whenever she was there.

But the real reason Faith kept coming back was the DJ. The guy knew his tunes, and he and Faith had quickly become friends. His name was Evan, and he was tall and neat, with longish dark hair, pale skin, and a face that was so delicately handsome it was pretty. There was a steady stream of girls gathered around the DJ booth most nights, competing for his attention. When Evan ignored them all to talk to Faith their looks were daggers. "Sorry girls, he's all mine," she said sometimes, just to rub it in, grabbing his arm and stealing him between sets as the girls' stares burned a hole in her back. He wasn't really hers, except as a friend. But Faith was okay with that. Faith had been burned often enough by guys that she definitely wasn't looking for a boyfriend, and even if she was, she had no time; being with Rebecca took up most of her time. And Faith was okay with that too. She liked being with Rebecca.

Evan didn't seem to be looking for a girlfriend either, though Faith wasn't sure why at first; he was gorgeous. But he was a good friend, and that was all that mattered. He played Faith's favorite songs whenever she was there, and they hung out, Evan drinking margaritas and Faith drinking Cokes, and sometimes they'd grab a bite to eat afterwards. He was the only guy she'd ever met who hadn't tried to get into her pants…the only guy who had ever really talked to her.

Evan had an easy smile, and he told dumb jokes, and he made Faith laugh. It was impossible for her not to smile when she was with him.

One night, over drinks in a quiet corner, Faith asked him if he had someone special.

"I've hung around with some really great girls, had a lot of fun," he said. "And…there was this girl once…" Evan's smile faded. "We were friends all through high school. After awhile, I…fell in love with her. I told her."

He finished the rest of his margarita in one gulp. "We…did it, you know?" he said. "And it wasn't the same after that. It was weird, awkward. We tried to date, but…there was stuff…we both had a lot of stuff we were dealing with. We realized we couldn't be together that way, but we couldn't be friends anymore either. Everything had changed. Then we both went away to college, and I never saw her again."

"I lost a friend, but I learned a lesson," he said. "Take that leap with a friend? You risk everything. Love can destroy a friendship. I won't do that again."

"My friends are too important to me," Evan said. "I don't want any more of them to leave. Got it?"

"You're gonna deprive the world of your sassy brand of hotness? On behalf of guys everywhere, what the hell are you thinking, woman?"

"Bite your tongue, Ev. Yeah, I know I got it goin' on. It's just…I'm a loser magnet. Seriously."

"Okay, Faith 101, ready? I've been with three guys that you could call, y'know, boyfriends, I guess. First there was Ronnie, total deadbeat, always a day late and a dollar short. Took me out for my birthday and made me pay. Followed that up with Steve, the klepto. Stole stuff, even stole my stuff. He's in jail somewhere now. Latest trainwreck was Kenny. Drummer. He was like the guy in 'Bill and Ted's Excellent Adventure', except he didn't even have the decency to be Keanu. He was the other one. Plus he was baked all the time. So, yeah, I don't know what comes after drummer? But I bet it's not anything good."

"Oh, fuck, honeybuns," Evan said, laughing. "If you drank I'd buy you a double."

"Let's talk about you again," Faith said. "Less depressing. So you're telling me you're off the market too? You're breaking hearts, baby."

"I don't know," he said. "I've had girlfriends, screwed around, had some fun…I'm a guy, right? But I'm still looking for the right girl. Whoever she is, I guess I'll know her when the time comes."

"Got plenty of chances to have fun in this place. With all the chicks hanging around your booth I figure you could be as adventurous as you please."

"Fun is one thing. But…I'm looking for someone…where it's not about getting some and getting gone. I want it to be about giving. About committing to something, and making it work. Anyway, whoever she is, she's out there. Maybe I'll get lucky and find her."

"Or maybe she'll find you," Faith said, smiling her sexy smile. "You never know."

Some days, after their workout was done, Faith and Rebecca would walk for hours up and down Commonwealth Avenue and Newbury Street, stopping to buy knick-knacks in all the little Newbury Street shops, and looking in the galleries. Faith liked the galleries better than the museum; the stuff in the galleries was a little wilder, a little more surprising. They picked out paintings for the house, looking in all the Newbury Street galleries one cold afternoon in January, and Faith found one for her room. It just spoke to her. She got that feeling, looking at it, that all the people in the Museum of Fine Arts got, or acted like they got, when they stood really close to the paintings and studied them; she felt transported. She felt, for a moment, like she wasn't aware of herself at all.

They walked for hours that day and into the night, and Rebecca talked to her, like she always did; about history or philosophy, or the Slayers who had come before, or whatever Faith wanted to talk about. Faith didn't say much, she just listened; she liked listening to Rebecca. And they ended up back at Faith's favorite place, that night, like they always did: the big, four-acre Public Garden, with its flowers and willow trees, and the lake that had swans in springtime, and the statue of George Washington on his horse. It was a cold night, and there were no leaves on the trees and only a few winter flowers, but the stars were out and the moon was up and everything was quiet and still. It felt like the world was telling them a secret. They found themselves speaking in hushed tones, careful not to disturb that beautiful stillness; they both knew it was fleeting.

"Think about it, Faith," Rebecca said, as they stood beneath the statue, looking up at the stars and eating hot fudge sundaes – the ice cream place on Newbury Street was open year-round, and ice cream was Faith's favorite food. "A ragtag group of poorly equipped farmers, outnumbered and outgunned, defeated the greatest professional army in the world to build your country. They had no real training. Some of them didn't even have shoes on their feet. They marched through the snow anyway. Men deserted in scores, but Washington held his army together. Through defeat after defeat, for years, he held them together. And they won. And they built this country. The longest stable democracy the world has ever known. A beacon of freedom that inspires people around the world to this day…your current President notwithstanding," she added, with a raised eyebrow.

"The Slayer is just one link in a chain," Rebecca said, and put her hand on Faith's shoulder. "A chain of brave men and women throughout history, who have changed the world for the rest of us. You're alive today because of their sacrifices. Some, like George Washington, have held armies together…some, like Buffy Summers, have saved the world from being overrun by vampires. While others, whose names we don't know, have trudged through the snow, with no shoes on their feet. There's a war going on, Faith. It's been going on since the beginning and will go on until the end. You're a part of that war now."

"Just a little," Faith said. "But it's cool, Becca, I like your speeches. Had me glued to my seat."

"Occupational hazard of being a Watcher, I'm afraid. We're subjected to so many mind-numbing speeches about duty and honor and destiny and being the masters of our fates and the captains of our souls and all that claptrap at the Watchers Council that we all just dream of the day when we can inflict one on some poor potential Slayer. Sharing the pain, I suppose."

"Now that you mention it, I suppose that could be part of it too. Okay. No more duty and honor for tonight. Just ice cream and Chinese food and popcorn, and that ridiculous movie you rented for us. Deal?"

"Sure. But hey, duty and honor are cool too. You never know, maybe I'll be the Slayer someday and all that history stuff you're always telling me about will come in handy. I could be all, 'Okay bad guys, I'm Faith the Vampire Slayer, and oh, by the way? The tree of liberty must be refreshed from time to time with the blood of Slayers and vamps'."

"I'm not gonna be down with that taxation without representation stuff either," Faith said, giggling and patting Rebecca's back, as Rebecca tried to catch her breath. "If I see even one guy getting taxed without being represented? I'll be all, 'Okay, where's the tea at? Gimme all the tea! Yo, chuck out that damn tea, bro. We are having us a tea party.'"

Rebecca put her hands on Faith's shoulders, looked her in the eyes, and said, "Faith, you're an inspiration to us all."

It had taken awhile to get Faith on board with the plan, but Faith really enjoyed listening to Rebecca play, and that got her to take the plunge. She always thought piano had to be long, boring classical songs, but Rebecca could play folk songs and show tunes and fast jazzy things that made Faith want to dance. So she sat with Rebecca at the piano for an hour a few nights a week, playing the scales and "Pop Goes the Weasel" and "Heart and Soul" and a French song called "Frére Jacques" over and over again, and learning about chords and how to position her fingers. That's what they were doing on a snowy night in February, when they both had colds and were sitting in their bathrobes and pajamas, sneezing and sniffling, and drinking tea with the fireplace crackling away behind them.

"You have excellent hands," Rebecca said, as she watched Faith haltingly try the scales. "If you put your mind to this, you could perhaps do it professionally someday."

Faith launched into "Pop Goes the Weasel". She kept on screwing up on that one high note, and she was damned well going to get it right this time.

The snow kept on coming that month; a week later it was still snowing and the whole city was at a standstill. But Faith liked the way it all looked; everything was quiet and pretty, like a painting. She even thought it was a little like a Monet painting, when the street lights hit the snow a certain way, and that made it even better. But it made it pretty damned boring too; the snow was a foot deep, driving was an adventure and there wasn't anything to do. She thought about going to The Roxy but she'd called Evan and he'd said he wasn't going in to work again "until this fucking Bing Crosby-ass White Christmas bullshit lets up. Sorry honeybuns." And dancing was no fun for Faith without Evan spinning the tunes…and without her knowing his eyes were on her.

So Faith stayed home, and hung around in the gym practicing with the weapons, or watched TV on the couch, and she was restless; and then Rebecca came into the living room while Faith was lying in front of the television, and stood in front of her with her hands on her hips and that eyebrow of hers raised.

"What do you think? Ever seen me with a book? Ninth grade drop-out, you think I like reading? I'm too dumb for that stuff."

"Faith," Rebecca said. Faith instantly sat up. Rebecca's voice had that tone it sometimes got. The tone that Faith knew meant you better frigging listen. The tone that meant now.

"No," Rebecca said, and sat next to her on the couch. "It isn't. In fact it's the only stupid thing I've ever heard you say."

"I don't know. You call me that a lot," Faith said. "Always thought you were just being nice."

"No," Rebecca said. "I told you, the night we first met, that I would never lie to you, Faith. And I never will. Because I want you to know you can trust me, but also because lying complicates things; it makes things harder. The truth is always best because the truth is simple. When I said you were smart I meant it. I wouldn't say it if I didn't mean it."

"But I don't…know about books and stuff. And big words, and history and…all that stuff."

"'The tree of liberty must be refreshed from time to time with the blood of patriots and tyrants'," Rebecca said. "Who said that?"

"Crappy. Gonna be pretty wretched, having to read stuff," Faith said, and grinned.

"So you're saying I'll just have to acclimate myself to this reading stuff, huh?" Faith said, her grin getting wider.

"You know those things because I taught them to you," Rebecca said. "Now I'll always tell you the truth, and that includes telling you things that are hard to hear. And the truth is that you're a smart girl, but you're uneducated. No one has ever taught you anything. No one has ever taken the time."

"But there's a difference between being uneducated and being stupid, Faith," Rebecca said. "They aren't the same thing. You survived on your own without a place to live for two years; you survived because you're smart. You kept yourself alive when no one would help you. You had to size people up, make the most of your opportunities, find ways to feed yourself, to keep yourself warm, to protect yourself. They weren't always the best ways. But you survived out there when a lot of girls who aren't as smart as you wouldn't have. And Thomas Jefferson and a lot of new vocabulary words wouldn't have been much help."

"Now at your age being uneducated is nothing to be ashamed of, yet. You can still say it's your mother's fault, it's your teachers' fault. But you won't be able to say that forever. Eventually, it will be your fault. It's something you need to fix. And I'm going to help you. Why do you think I talk to you so much about history, about philosophy?"

"Yeah, but…it's different when we talk about that stuff. I mean in school it was always boring, history and all that stuff was boring and I could never remember any of it. But when we talk…"

"You had lousy teachers. That doesn't mean you're not smart. Actually it means just the opposite. It means you were smart enough to be bored."

"This is no different than our workouts, Faith," Rebecca said. "It will take time but it will get easier, and you'll learn to like it. And I'll help you. And it'll be better than school, because school fills your head with things you don't need to know. I don't care if you don't know calculus, I don't care if you don't know how to speak French. But you need to know about history, and philosophy, because they inform the way we live our lives. You need to read good books, because they build vocabulary and tell us important things about the world, and ourselves. I want you to read this book. And when you're done reading it, we'll talk about it."

"Were you expecting a quiz?" Rebecca said, and smiled. "I'm not going to test you. I'm not going to ask you to write a book report. This isn't about remembering the book so you can get the answers on a test right; it's about reading the book and getting something out of it. If you have questions that's okay, if you don't understand it that's okay too. We'll talk about it when you're done. But I expect you to read it. All right?

"That's my girl," Rebecca said, and handed Faith the book, and walked out of the room.

Faith looked at the book. It looked old. It had a weird goofy cover, with a little girl on it.

Alice was beginning to get very tired of sitting by her sister on the bank, Faith read…

"Tell me why we have to listen to this horrible music again?" Rebecca said, watching her. They were in the gym. Rebecca had set it up on the third floor, in a big room with one of the bow windows that let in lots of light. A sparring ring was set up there, along with the speed bag, the heavy bag, free weights and a bench. There were weapons on the walls, that Faith was just beginning to learn to use: swords, staffs, axes, bows, knives, throwing stars, nunchakus. Practice dummies and targets were set up next to them. The boom box Faith had bought the week before was in the corner, blaring out one of Evan's Roxy mix CD's.

"You do like it, don't you?" she said. "You're all British about it and everything, but you can't fool me. I can tell you like it." Faith kept hitting the speed bag as she talked to Rebecca, her hands keeping up their rhythm in perfect counter-point to the music.

"Hope for you yet, Becca," Faith said, and laughed, and hit the bag a bunch of big wallops in a finishing flourish as the song ended.

"Yes, well be that as it may, is there any chance we could perhaps shut it off now?"

"I remember a time when you hated the speed bag," Rebecca said, looking closely at her. Faith was wearing sweat pants and a cut off tee-shirt, and Rebecca could see the definition in her shoulders and arms; the long, hard trapezius muscles sloping down from her neck, the bulge of her biceps, and her triceps muscles beginning to appear as well. Faith's forearms had long veins running down them now, and were noticeably larger than they used to be. When Faith walked, her posture was perfectly straight, and there was a spring in her step. A far cry from the thin, dispirited, perpetually slouching girl Rebecca had taken in not even four months earlier.

"I remember almost chucking the thing out the window once," Faith said, and turned back to her. She saw Rebecca smiling.

Faith glanced at the window. It was the first day of March, and spring was theoretically on the way, though you wouldn't know it from the weather. Winter still had Boston in its clutches and wasn't giving it up without a fight. It was a cold, rainy day; a few degrees colder and it would be snowing.

"We got through February," Rebecca said. "March couldn't possibly be worse…could it?"

"Yeah well, I don't hate it like I used to. My wind's good now, and my legs don't hurt. Now it's just boring. But I got you with me, so I'm good."

"I'm proud of you, Faith," Rebecca said, and put her hand on Faith's shoulder. "You've come so far. You've never once disappointed me."

Faith leaned her head against Rebecca's chest, and held Rebecca very tight. Rebecca could see that Faith had tears in her eyes.

"Faith…?" Rebecca said, hugging her, and running her fingers through her hair. Hugging Faith felt perfectly natural…the way it used to feel when she hugged her daughter, all those years ago. "What's wrong? Is something wrong?"

"I'm happy, Becca," Faith said, crying, her voice muffled against Rebecca's chest. "For the first time in my life. I'm just…happy, y'know?"

Rebecca held Faith in her arms, and looked out at the rain…and thought about her daughter…

Faith wasn't complaining. It was a cool, bright Sunday morning near the end of March, and Faith could think of a lot of fun ways to spend it that didn't involve huffing and puffing and dragging her ass along the Charles River Esplanade for four miles. Rebecca had come into Faith's room just as Faith's alarm clock went off, sat on the bed beside her, and told her she had some errands to attend to, and that they would skip their run this one time. Faith didn't know what kind of errands couldn't wait until after their run, especially since most of the stores wouldn't even be open yet on a Sunday, but she wasn't about to question this stroke of completely unexpected good fortune.

"But I should be back in plenty of time for us to go through our sword-fighting routine, and aikido after that," Rebecca added.

"I'm almost done," Faith said. "I feel bad for Anne. How come the Nazis did all that stuff? What do they care if someone's Jewish? It doesn't make sense."

"We'll talk about it when you're done. Do you like the book?"
"Yeah, it's pretty cool. Sad though."

"Just wait until you start in on the next one. The sadness just keeps on coming, I'm afraid."
"Yeah? What's it about?"

"It's about German soldiers during the first World War, and what it was like fighting in the trenches."

"People are people, Faith. Evil is a choice made by individuals, not by races or governments. Heroism works the same way. But we'll talk about it another time. Relax, sleep in today. You've earned it."

Red Sox Cap, Freckles, the Asian guy, and the Republican were sleeping in that day too, sprawled on decrepit old chairs and couches in the living room of a condemned house in Jamaica Plain, a shabby, working class Boston neighborhood that had come a long way from its roots: boasting fairly cheap rents, some interesting restaurants, an impressive array of dive bars and a hop, skip and a jump commute to most of the big colleges in town, it had managed to attract a large and growing population of college students over the years and had eventually become an excitingly diverse blend of cultures and ethnicities and, unfortunately, vampires. The room was a graveyard of pizza boxes and peppermint schnapps bottles. The Republican slept in boxers and a tee-shirt; his brand new Armani suit was carefully hung up on a wooden hanger on the closet doorknob. And other than the fact that Red Sox Cap was actually wearing a Boston Bruins cap now and the Asian guy had cut his hair, they all seemed much the same to Rebecca, as she looked down at them, holding a gasoline can in her hand. She tossed the gasoline can away, and walked to the windows.

It was still early; a couple of hours past sunrise. The vampires had gotten very drunk the night before and gone to sleep and they weren't planning on waking up until after sunset, when they'd hunt.

At least, that was the plan…until Rebecca snapped up the shades on all the windows and said, "Rise and shine, boys. It's a glorious morning."

The sun woke them up instantly, flooding into the room and searing their flesh. They leaped up, howling in pain, their skin smoking, their faces changing to vampire form, and cast their eyes around wildly. Sunlight was everywhere. All four of them scrambled into the same tiny corner, the only part of the room the sun hadn't penetrated.

"The Brit bitch," the Asian guy said, swaying a little, still drunk. "What the fuck do you want?"

"That's a lovely suit you have over there," Rebecca said, looking at the Republican. "Armani?"

"Okay, why aren't we killing her?" Freckles said, massaging his temples and wincing.

"So where's the chippie?" the Republican said, smiling at Rebecca. "You remember, the little homeless slut you picked up? Her name's Faith, right? You should've brought her along, lady. We all miss her."

"You have fabulous taste in clothes, you know," Rebecca said, smiling right back at the Republican. "Are you sure you're not gay? I bet you are. I bet you just love taking a nice, big cock up the arse."

"At least your friends stayed and fought," Rebecca said. "But when I hit you with that holy water you ran away like a scared little bitch slapped girl. Pathetic. Do these three bend you over and fuck you? Are you the little poofter girl of the group?"

The Republican took a step toward her, but shrank back, as his skin sizzled in the bright sunlight.

"East-facing windows," Rebecca said. "Just perfect for watching the sunrise. I wonder if the four of you could manage to kill me and make it back to the corner before you burn. Anyone care to have a go?"

"It took me awhile to find you," Rebecca said. "But I never stopped looking. I never forgot about you. And now here we all are, having this lovely meeting of the minds."

"Yes, I poured it on all of you as you slept," Rebecca said. "No wonder it took you so long to notice it, you all stink of peppermint schnapps. Schnapps is a nancy boy's drink, you know. Real men drink scotch."

The vampires looked around the room, and then back at Rebecca. The sun was everywhere, and it was creeping closer…steadily, inexorably burning their little refuge of shadow away.

"I could've staked you as you slept," Rebecca said. "But that's not how I wanted it."

Rebecca's unwavering blue eyes fixed on them as she took a silver lighter from her pocket, and snapped it open. The vampires shrank back, as a tall, powerful jet of flame shot up out of it.

"This is how I wanted it," Rebecca said. "And Faith sends her regards, by the way."

She smiled, and tossed the lighter at them. The vampires went up in flames like torches, shrieking.

After her workout with Rebecca, Faith spent the night at the Boston Garden, watching the Celtics thrash the Lakers. Rebecca had gotten them the same seats right above the Celtics bench as before, but at the last minute she said she wasn't feeling well, and encouraged Faith to go on alone.

"I'll be fine in the morning, I expect," Rebecca had said. "I'm just…feeling rather fatigued. It's not easy at my age, you know, keeping up with a potential Slayer all day," she added, with a smile.

Faith knew there was something Rebecca wasn't telling her. Rebecca was in better shape than she was, barely broke a sweat in their workouts and kicked Faith's butt all over the mat. But Faith could tell she needed to be alone, so she went by herself to watch the Celtics kick the Lakers' butts all over the Garden that night. The Celtics were as unstoppable as ever, and Faith had a great time watching Len Bias and Reggie Lewis and Shaquille O'Neal kick the hell out of the Lakers and the amazing new guard they had drafted out of high school the year before, while eating hot dogs and booing refs and giving Nicholson the finger on the other side of the court. She was sure he smiled back at her once.

When Faith got home Rebecca was sitting in the dining room in her bathrobe drinking scotch.

"Oh! Faith…how was your game?" Rebecca said, getting up clumsily. There was a small framed photograph on the table in front of her. It was the one Faith had seen in Rebecca's room. A pretty little blonde girl. Faith knew who she must be. But Rebecca never talked about her, and Faith didn't want to pry. There were plenty of things Faith didn't like talking about either.

Rebecca picked up the photo and held it down by her side, as if to hide it. She swayed a little.

Rebecca walked toward her, and nearly fell. Faith rushed forward and grabbed her arm.

"Come on, Becca…how about we go sit on the couch for awhile, huh?" Faith said.

"Yes…that's…" Rebecca said, trying to stand up straight, and dropped the photo. The glass broke.

Faith knelt down and picked it up. "Just the glass," she said. "We'll get a new frame."

She dropped to her knees beside Faith on the floor, and tried to pick up the pieces. She nearly fell over. Faith steadied her.

"Hey. Becca? It's okay," Faith said. "I got it. We'll buy another frame for it, okay?"

"Come on, Becca," Faith said. "I'll put on some coffee and we'll go in the parlor, okay? Come on, here we go…"

Faith got her up, brought her into the living room, sat her on the couch, and put the coffee on.

They sat silently together the rest of the night, drinking coffee. Rebecca's deep blue eyes were looking at something very far away.

A little before midnight Rebecca said, "My ex-husband had my daughter Gwendolyn for the weekend and a vampire killed them both at the carnival in Glastonbury. She was six. She would have turned sixteen today."

Faith went upstairs, put the photo back on the little antique table beside Rebecca's bed, and came back to the living room with blankets and pillows. She made sure Rebecca was comfortable on the couch, put one of the blankets over her, and set a pillow beneath her head. Then she took the other pillow and blanket to the recliner next to the couch, and went to sleep.

Faith woke up in the recliner the next morning to the smell of bacon. Rebecca walked in and smiled at her, all showered and fresh and pretty and not a hair out of place, looking like a million bucks even when she was hung over.

"Good morning," Rebecca said. "I made breakfast. Shall we see how badly I botched the bacon and eggs?"

The bacon and eggs weren't that bad. Faith thought the eggs were maybe a little runny and the bacon was a little undercooked. With ketchup and orange juice it all worked out okay.

"Well. We certainly had an eventful night, didn't we?" Rebecca said. "Thank you, Faith, for staying with me last night. April eleventh is…a hard day for me. I had hoped it would be easier this year."

"My great-grandfather was a Watcher. I knew about them, they even tried to recruit me, but I always resisted joining…in those days, the only girl I wanted to watch over was Gwendolyn." Rebecca smiled. "After her funeral, I applied for membership and was accepted. Since then I've trained potential Slayers."

"No. There are about two-thousand potentials in the world at any one time. So actually becoming the Slayer is rather like winning a lottery. But someone will. And they'll survive longer if they're trained. Some potentials go on to become Watchers themselves."

"Hey, you had me thinking I was all cool and stuff and now you're telling me I'm like, one in two-thousand. So not fair," Faith said.

"There's magic in you, Faith," Rebecca said. "How do you think we find potentials? And vampires seek out potentials especially. Your blood is potent to them. There are also those who have targeted potentials in attempts to destroy the Slayer bloodline. No one has come close to succeeding yet, but someone may try again someday. It's imperative we find and protect as many potentials as we can. But even if you never become a Slayer, you'll be important. You needed to open your eyes to the world…to the ongoing battle. You'll be part of that battle, Slayer or not. Some people while away their lives on the couch. That isn't for you."

Faith looked down at her eggs. She wasn't sure how, but Rebecca knew about her mother.

"What matters is how you deal with it," Rebecca said. "What you do next. Evil is like a plague. Some people become infected with it, and inflict it on others. Some weather it, but never really recover…they're broken inside. But some people decide to rise above it, and fight. That's what I decided to do. And it's what you're going to do."

Rebecca finished eating and stood up. "But in any event, the morning is dragging on and we haven't even had our run yet," she said. "Let's get to it."

"Hey, just throwing this out there?" Faith said, as she finished her eggs. "But since you're sorta hung over and we both got like four hours of sleep I was thinking it'd be cool if we gave ourselves a day off. Y'know, we could shop, maybe get our nails done…"

Rebecca raised her eyebrow. "It's cold out there this morning, and we'll be doing an extra long run today to shake off the cobwebs, so wear something warm," she said.

Faith found out she was the Slayer one Tuesday night in May when she threw a guy named Brendan over the bar at The Roxy.

Rebecca had a visitor that day. His name was Trevor and he was British, and he was going to take Rebecca out dancing, "and perhaps we'll eat at that wonderfully crude steak house on Route One." Faith thought Trevor was a pretty good cut of meat himself…six feet tall, good build, his slacks nicely accentuating his butt and his sweater showing off his broad shoulders; he rowed in his spare time and it showed. Dark hair brushed back, a big toothy British smile and blue eyes with a playful twinkle. Way to go, Rebecca, Faith thought. Apparently he and Rebecca had been dating off and on for a year or so and he had just arrived in town as a visiting lecturer at Harvard. Trevor shook Faith's hand and said, "So this is our Slayer in waiting. Absolutely stupendous to meet you, my dear girl."

"Be home promptly by one a.m., and don't test me," Faith said, in an English accent that was a very good approximation of Rebecca's. Trevor laughed. "Oh, I like this girl, Becky, I really do," he said.

Rebecca smiled at Faith, and raised that eyebrow of hers. "I like impertinence, Faith," she said. "But only up to a point."

"Being inappropriately presumptuous," Rebecca said. "Now run along and have a nice night with Evan."

"Got a joke for you," Evan said, with that sly wolf's smile he had, as he and Faith sat on wobbly stools at the bar in The Roxy after his first set, Evan drinking his usual margarita, Faith drinking her usual Coke. Faith could've found ways to sneak a drink here and there, but Rebecca didn't want her drinking until she was eighteen…and Faith didn't miss booze anyway. Memories came with it.

"Oh, no," Faith said, and smiled. She couldn't help smiling around him. Evan was a big goof. A big, gorgeous goof.

"Okay, so these three like, English explorer guys are exploring this deserted island, right? And they get captured by this evil pygmy cannibal tribe."

"Why English?" Faith said, and they both started giggling. Faith liked trying to screw up Evan's jokes.

"Fine," Evan said. "Three Swedish explorer guys get like, captured by this evil cannibal tribe. Okay?"

"So they're captured, and tied up. And the leader of the evil cannibal tribe says, 'You have two choices, white man. Death, or ki-ki.'"

"Death, or ki-ki," Evan said. He finished his margarita. "Dan, need another round over here, bro!"

"Four," Evan said. "I'm in the giggly phase but I haven't started slurring words yet. So the first explorer guy says, okay, I'll take ki-ki. And then…"

"Had it ready to go," Dan said. "When Ev gets in margarita mode you just keep 'em coming. But this is it for now, dude, you have another set later."

Faith reached for her purse, but Dan waved her off. "Your money's no good here, Faith," he said. "Ki-ki joke?"

"I have a routine with him," Dan said. "His second set's in an hour, after this I'll get him onto ginger ale. He'll be fine. He likes being a little tipsy for his second set anyway. 'Course, he did play 'Rhinestone Cowboy' that time…"

"It's not a good song, and you sang along with it," Dan said. "And yeah, the cowboy hat? 'Nuff said."

"That was just that one time," Evan grumbled, apparently talking to his margarita now.

"Okay, so back to the joke. The first explorer says, 'I'll take ki-ki', and then all of a sudden like thirty of the cannibals tear his clothes off, and start fucking him in the ass…" Evan said, and gulped down half of his margarita.

"And fucking him in the mouth and doing all these horrible things to him," Evan continued, undeterred. "So the second explorer guy sees this, and he figures being fucked by pygmy cannibals is better than being killed. So when the tribe leader says 'You have two choices, white man. Death, or ki-ki'…" Evan was doing a very bad impression of a pygmy cannibal that sounded like he was trying to imitate Mr. T after breathing helium. It made Faith burst out laughing. Evan rubbed her shoulder until she stopped. "So the second explorer's like, fine, whatever, I guess being fucked by thirty pygmies is better than being killed, and he says 'I'll take ki-ki,' and braces himself, and the pygmy guys grab him, tear his clothes off, and fuck him in the ass and the mouth. So anyway…"

Dan passed by on his way to the other end of the bar. "You're in the home stretch," he said.

"So anyway," Evan said, grabbing Faith's hand to make sure she was still listening. "The tribe leader says to the third explorer guy, 'You have two choices, white man…'"

"Death, or ki-ki!" Faith said, and did her own impression of a pygmy cannibal that sounded like Darth Vader would sound if he was high. They both started giggling again.

"And so the third explorer guy says, 'Screw you! I'm not doing this ki-ki stuff. No way any man's fucking me in the ass!'"

Evan said that last part a little too loud, and with a raised fist for emphasis. People at the bar started staring, and Faith put her hand over Evan's mouth, laughing so hard her cheeks were hurting.

"Ev…? Honey, baby, darling?" Faith said. "I think you're up to maybe a six now."

"Five," Evan said, his voice muffled beneath Faith's hand. Faith took her hand away, and Evan said, "I'm only at five because I'm still not slurring my words." He took another big gulp of his margarita. "So like, the third guy says, 'I choose death, you bastards!' And the tribal leader looks at him, and then he says, 'You are very brave, white man…'" Again Evan did his Mister T impression, and again Faith burst out laughing. "And then the tribal leader says to the third guy…"

Evan was grinning at Faith, or at least in her general direction, his eyes apparently focused on a point just above her left shoulder.

"And then the tribal leader says to the third explorer guy, 'Very well! Death…by ki-ki!" Evan shouted, and banged his fist on the bar, and spilled what was left of his margarita, and laughed like it was the funniest joke in the history of the universe. Faith laughed too, and grabbed some napkins and cleaned up the mess Evan had made.

"Ginger ale time," Evan said, his eyes wandering to Faith's legs. She was wearing a short skirt and knee-high boots. Faith didn't usually wear skirts; she wanted to see if Evan would notice her legs. "Jesus Christ, you're beautiful," he said. He put his arm around Faith and leaned his head on her shoulder. "Tired all of a sudden. Just…wanna snuggle up with my girl."

"Okay, Ev," Faith said. "Time to sober up. You just let me and Dan take care of you, okay?"

Faith got hit on most nights at The Roxy, usually when she was at the bar, getting her wind back after a long stretch of dancing. Guys (and a few girls) would try to buy her drinks, and she'd drink the non-alcoholic ones and smile politely, and not give her phone number out because it was Rebecca's number. But she had a large and growing collection of phone numbers from guys that she hadn't called back. Faith didn't trust guys. One after another, they had treated her like she could be bought. Like something to be used and discarded.

She had been ignoring guys that night, hanging with Evan and getting him ready for his second set, and then getting back onto the dance floor once he got back in his booth. She didn't know how he did it but you wouldn't have been able to tell he had been half drunk an hour before. As Faith danced, a hot blonde guy sitting at a table in the corner caught her eye. He was watching her too, his eyes all over her while she did her thing, dancing to her favorite tunes, the fast ones that really got her engine running. He smiled at her, ignoring the three giggling preppy girls who kept making excuses to walk by his table.

He finished his drink and came over to Faith, with his nice body and his little diamond earring and his killer smile, and got up in her space and danced back at her. He knew how to move, and Faith liked the way he did it in those pants. This one might just be a little too hot to pass up, she decided, so she let him into her space and danced around him, tailoring her moves to his, and they stepped around each other like they'd practiced it all their lives, and then they were right up close and it was a slow song, and his arms were around her.

The whisper again, though he wasn't whispering, he was actually talking pretty loud, to no avail. "I'm…" he said, and Faith missed the rest.

"I'm Brendan!" he shouted, just as the music suddenly cut out, and his voice carried across the room like the announcer at a wrestling match. Everyone in the club laughed. "Let's hear it for Brendan, folks," Evan said into his microphone, and everyone applauded. Faith looked up at Evan in his booth and giggled. He smiled back at her. He didn't look jealous. Damn, Faith thought.

Then Faith looked back at Brendan, and she couldn't resist: "Hey, no reason to shout, Brendan," she said, and burst out laughing.

He kissed her. Faith thought it was a little too soon, but he had worked for it. It was a pretty good kiss, too.

When the music came up again, Faith felt strange. At first it felt like a wave of nausea. But then it passed…and she suddenly felt better than she had ever felt before. She was full of energy. She needed to dance. Evan was playing a good, fast song, and Faith started moving. Brendan matched her move for move, and kissed her again, with some tongue this time. Faith smiled, and pushed him away. "Hey, cowboy, let's take it easy, okay?" she said in his ear.

"What?" he said, grinning, and kissed her again, forcing his tongue into her mouth. She pulled away.

He smiled and nodded apologetically. They danced. But now his hands were getting a little too friendly, groping her butt. Faith moved them back to neutral territory. "Brendan, come on. Please?" she said.

"Can't hear you," he said, and moved his hands back down onto her butt. Faith yanked them back off.

"I said stop!" she shouted, and pushed him away. "What the hell? I thought we were having fun here! What the hell are you doing?"

"My problem? My problem is you're treating me like crap. What the hell do you think I am?"

"Know what? I thought you were a cool guy. Turns out you were just another dick," Faith said, and walked off the dance floor. But she still felt like she had energy to burn.

Brendan pulled her back toward him. "Know what I thought you were?" he said. "My fucking cum dumpster." And he laughed at her, and walked away.

Then she grabbed his arm and threw him twenty feet across the room. People scattered away as he crashed into the bar, smashing bottles and sending drinks flying everywhere…

Faith wasn't sure what had just happened. She looked around the room. Everyone was staring at her.

"Faith!" Evan shouted, and jumped over the booth and ran to her, and threw his arms around her. "Are you okay? Are you okay, baby?"

"Ev, I'll…call you tomorrow, okay? I just…I don't feel…I gotta…I gotta go…" Faith stammered.

She ran straight back to Rebecca's house at a full sprint. She never felt tired, never had to take even one deep breath. It would have been a ten-minute walk; she made the run in less than sixty seconds.

She noticed the full moon looking down at her as she ran, a perfect circle of pure white.

She charged into the house and bounded up the stairs three at a time and ran into Rebecca's bedroom on the third floor. It was past midnight. Rebecca was sleeping. Faith switched on the little antique lamp on the bureau.

They were in the gym. Rebecca stood by the weight bench in a blue terrycloth bathrobe, piling a hell of a lot of weight on the barbell. Faith thought she looked beautiful, as always. Twelve-thirty at night, just rolled out of bed, and not one blonde hair out of place. That's how she looked every morning too, even before she put her makeup on. Faith always wondered how she did that.

"Bench press that?" Faith said. Then she remembered running back to the house…how she never felt out of breath. She remembered the energy she felt…

"Bench press it," Rebecca said, in that tone she had, the one Faith knew meant now.

The energy was still there. It pulsed through Faith like a sugar rush…but it was constant. It would always be there. She would always feel like this…

She lifted the barbell off the rack, lowered it to her chest, lifted it straight back up again with hardly an effort, and set it back on the rack. It amazed her, how easy it was. She could have sworn she was lifting, at most, thirty pounds.

Faith set the barbell back on the rack. Rebecca went around the room picking up plates, and loading the barbell up with as many as could fit.

Faith felt it a little bit, this time; she could tell she was lifting something heavy. But it was still easy, and she got the weight up without any real effort. She kept benching it, two reps, three, four, her arms still not tired…how much could she lift now? Just how strong was she?

"That's enough," Rebecca said. "You can stop now." Faith set the barbell back on the rack and sat up.

"How much was I just benching?" Faith said. They had done their chest and triceps routine the day before. Faith could just barely eke out three sets of bench presses at one-hundred pounds, with a lot of help from Rebecca on the last set; she could get one-hundred and thirty up once, with Rebecca spotting her. "Eight-hundred and forty pounds," Rebecca said.

Faith looked up at Rebecca, expecting her to be happy, expecting her to be proud…

Faith sat in the big first floor dining room, at the long table with candles on it under the fancy chandelier. The room was dark, but the street lamp outside bathed her in a little pool of light as she looked out the window at Commonwealth Avenue. It had started to rain, and the colors from the street lamps and the traffic lights mixed and melted together on the slick wet street, red and green and yellow on black, making everything seem a little unreal, like a dream. Rebecca came back from the liquor cabinet with a bottle of Krug Clos du Mesnil champagne and two champagne glasses, sat down beside Faith, and lit the candles.

"To the new Slayer. To Faith Lehane. To my girl," Rebecca said, and smiled. They touched glasses, and drank.

Faith knew Rebecca; she knew something was wrong. She'd figure it out eventually.

Faith liked the champagne. "Why do I get the feeling this stuff is really expensive?" she said.

"Buffy, and Kendra," Faith said, and understood, for the first time, what exactly being a Slayer meant. She hadn't felt the weight before, in the gym. Now she did. She felt the weight on her shoulders, now…the weight she would carry the rest of her life.

Rebecca had decided to get good and scuppered. She wasn't quite there yet, but she was feeling quite relaxed. Good show, Mr. Krug, she thought. You make a capital champagne. She stood in the doorway of Faith's bedroom on the second floor, the champagne bottle and her glass in her hand, watching Faith sleep. Faith was seventeen. Still a girl.

On the wall above the stereo system and the stack of hip-hop CD's that Faith had insisted she needed there hung the painting that Rebecca had bought for her in one of the galleries on Newbury Street. Faith had chosen it. It was an abstract, all swirling curves of deep, dark blue. "That one," Faith had said, pointing right at it.

Faith's leather coat was on the floor again; she always threw it on the floor no matter how many times Rebecca told her to hang it up. Rebecca picked it up – quietly, careful not to disturb Faith's sleep – and hung it in the closet.

Faith slept, curled up on her side by the open window. Faith always slept with the window open. A cool breeze was coming in.

She shut the door and walked up the stairs to her own room on the third floor – she was a bit wobbly, but not nearly enough, she would definitely need more champagne shortly – and sat down on the frilly four-poster bed, looking in the antique mirror with its gilt baroque frame. On the little table next to the bed, Gwendolyn looked up at her, frozen in that one smiling moment, forever. Rebecca and Faith had bought a new frame for the photo the day after Rebecca dropped it.

Rebecca stood up, and walked to the big mahogany bureau. Standing up suddenly like that told her she was closer to scuppered than she thought. Perhaps just one more glass, Mr. Krug, then we'll call it a night. She leaned on the bureau, looking in the mirror. She would be forty-two in August, though most people thought she looked ten years younger. But there were crow's feet at the corners of her eyes now, and laugh lines by her lips too, that most people didn't notice. Her hands rested on a silver tray on the bureau, which held brushes and combs and makeup and perfume. There was an antique porcelain vase next to it, which Faith had bought her the day before from an antique shop on Charles Street, because she knew Rebecca loved flowers. Faith had put tulips in the vase today.

Faith could have used the allowance Rebecca gave her to buy it. But Rebecca had found out from Evan that Faith had worked shifts at The Roxy – sweeping floors, helping behind the bar, checking ID's at the door, whatever needed to be done – to save up for it herself. Faith gave it to her on Mother's Day.

"Damn it Damn it DAMN IT!" Rebecca screamed, and smashed her fists down on the silver tray, and started to cry.

She wasn't sure how long she cried, leaning on the bureau with her eyes squeezed shut, the bottle of expensive perfume Trevor had bought her broken on the floor, spilling out at her feet. When she looked up at the mirror again, she saw Faith there, standing in the doorway behind her, in her nightgown.

"Tell me what's wrong," Faith said. She came into the room, and took Rebecca's hand.

"Do you know…do you know how long a Slayer lives?" Rebecca said. "Nineteen. Nineteen is the average life-expectancy of a Slayer."

When Rebecca looked at Faith, Faith saw something she had never seen before in those eyes, in that ocean of peaceful, calm blue that had been her constant source of strength, that Faith had taken for granted would always be there. She saw something desperate.

"I wanted you to live," Rebecca said. "I wanted you to be strong and happy. That's all I ever wanted for you. Not…not this. Not this…"

Faith felt the weight on her shoulders. The weight that would always be there…

Then Rebecca straightened up, and wiped her tears away. And she wiped Faith's tears away too.

Faith looked up at Rebecca, and she saw that the desperation was gone, the ocean in Rebecca's blue eyes placid and strong again.

"So I guess you and I are just going to have to beat the odds," Rebecca said, in that tone she sometimes used, the one that Faith knew meant now. And she smiled. And Faith smiled too.

"Well, we're a frightful mess, aren't we?" Rebecca said, as they looked in the mirror together, and laughed. "Run along and get some sleep, Faith. Tomorrow your training begins."

"Begins?" Faith said. "Then what have we been up to for the past like, six months?"

"The past six months were a nice vacation on a tropical island somewhere, sipping Mai Tais," Rebecca said. "The past six months were training wheels. We're going to beat the goddamned odds. And to do that, we're going to have to do the work. I'm going to work you, Faith. Harder than you've ever worked before. Your combat training? Double it. Then double that."

Rebecca looked at Faith, just the way she did that night in November under the full moon.

"You're going to live to a ripe old age, Faith," Rebecca said. "Because I'm going to make you the greatest Slayer that's ever been."

They spent the rest of that week doing combat drills. Aikido, boxing, Krav Maga, and weapons training, just like before, except now there was a lot more of it. Rebecca wasn't kidding; Faith's combat training time was quadrupled. The good news was Faith would no longer have to run or lift weights; Slayer strength was magical, according to Rebecca, and, short of starving herself, a Slayer couldn't get out of shape or lose muscle even if she wanted to. So Faith spent eight grueling hours a day with Rebecca, working on her fighting technique, getting used to her new body; to her new strength, her new speed, her new reflexes. Everything was strange to her. Just picking things up was different: everything felt lighter. She had nearly perfect aim now, with any weapon that came to hand. She could punch through solid wood. When she walked she felt almost weightless, like she was walking on air. She could sprint at thirty miles an hour for ten minutes before beginning to tire. She could do a thousand pushups.

"Again," Rebecca said. Faith was pretty sure it was Rebecca's favorite word in the whole English language.

It was Saturday, and Faith was in her sweats, in the gym. On her ass on the mat, where she'd been most of the day. Rebecca stood over her, all business.

Trevor was there too, cheering Faith on, saying completely unhelpful things like "You can do it!" and "Oh, you almost had her that time!" whenever Rebecca threw her, which was a lot. It turned out that Trevor was a former special forces commando with a British outfit called the S.A.S., and he liked watching Rebecca and Faith's training routines. When Faith asked what the S.A.S. was, Trevor smiled and said, "We're the people you don't see until it's too late."

Faith groaned, got up, and ran at Rebecca. Faith was sneakier this time: she anticipated Rebecca's move and tried to sweep her legs. It didn't work, and Faith ended up back on the mat, back on her ass.

"A Slayer always thinks tactically, Faith," Rebecca said. "She instinctively catalogues her surroundings, noting any terrain or object that can be used for offensive or defensive advantage. A Slayer catalogues her opponent as well, both physically and psychologically, and you did that: you knew I prefer to go to my left and tried to use it against me. Bravo, but I don't really prefer going to my left. I just wanted to see if you'd notice."

They had been doing aikido throws all afternoon and Faith's ass ached. So she smiled with relief when Rebecca called it a day.

"Have mercy on your poor Slayer," Trevor said. "Or we'll be late for our dinner reservation."

"Yes, that's enough for today," Rebecca said, looking at the clock. "We have to drop Faith off at her party too."

"You're doing well, Faith," she said. "You're a natural at boxing, your footwork is excellent and your aikido is coming along nicely. Don't feel discouraged because I can throw you. Aikido is geared toward defeating a superior foe. It's an effective counter to your Slayer strength. That's why you have to learn it."

"Hope Uncle Bob shows up before my butt falls off," Faith said. Rebecca laughed.

"Don't worry, Faith," Rebecca said. "You're learning fast; you'll be throwing me in no time."

"And dear Becky is a fifth degree black belt, don't you know," Trevor said. "Amazing you were even able to lay a hand on her today at all. Not only will Bob be your uncle in no time, but I'm sure Fanny will be your aunt."

Faith raised her eyebrow. Every time she thought there weren't any more weird British sayings, up popped a new one. She made a mental note to poke fun at Rebecca about it later.

"Now run along and get dressed. You don't want to be late for your party," Rebecca said.

After getting her ass handed to her all day Faith thought at first she might not be up for the party at Evan's place that night, but that magic Slayer mojo kept on pumping in her veins and after a shower and a quick bite to eat (Faith's famous grilled cheese sandwiches with bacon and tomato which Trevor called "delightfully primitive") Faith was ready to dance.

Evan's parents were, in his words, "ridiculously rich; really, Faith, it's just ridiculous," so Evan's condo in Cambridge was a breathtaking sight, a huge duplex with a glorious view of the Charles River. The large, sunken living room with its three big blue couches and the rug that felt a foot deep looked like something from the Playboy Mansion, and a giant sound system took up the entirety of one wall, blasting Evan's Roxy playlist through the room, out the windows and across the entire neighborhood. The place even had a terrace, and Evan was out there with the grill going, passing back hot dogs and burgers (Faith ate three hot dogs and two cheeseburgers; being a Slayer was hungry business). There was a fully stocked bar running along the wall separating the sunken living room from the kitchen and it was bigger than the one at The Roxy; if Evan's place had a dance floor, it would have been a better club than The Roxy. Dan was behind the bar, slinging drinks, his blue hair done up in a special new spiked 'do tonight, because his girlfriend was back from vacation.

The place was packed, wall-to-wall, and the music was so loud it sounded like artillery, and everyone was dancing and laughing and drinking and having so much fun that Faith was becoming seriously worried about the cops breaking it up. Then Dan informed her that his Dad was the Cambridge Chief of Police, and Faith relaxed, grabbed a Coke, and kicked back on one of the couches. Someone offered her a joint, which she politely declined.

Once he'd handed the grill off to someone else and finished making the polite host rounds, Evan sat next to her, looked back at Dan and said, "Barkeep, one margarita and don't skimp on the salt, and a Coke for my date, chop-chop."

"Don't be silly. How could I not invite my girl? It wouldn't be the same without you. And don't worry, we'll make sure you get a ride home. Dan's doing his designated driver thing tonight, so he can drop you if I get too ridiculous with the margaritas, which, yeah, I'm thinking I might."

"Yeah, I'm thinking you might too. But it's cool, I can always have Becca come get me. What's Dan's girl like? He told me she was coming."

"Name's Terry, she's supposed to be by a little later. She's a drama queen, and she orders Dan around like she's Margaret Thatcher. But then I order him around like I'm Margaret Thatcher too."

Faith thought about how strange her life had become since she'd met Rebecca. She actually knew who Margaret Thatcher was now.

"And she loves him, so there's that," Evan continued. "She's fairly hot. Not Faith hot. She's this petite little blonde thing. They're happy, that's the main thing. He's my bud…I'm glad he's happy."

"You sound a little worried," Faith said. "She monopolizing him a little maybe?"

"Yeah. He loves her. We don't hang out as much. But he's my bud. I'll work with it."

"Yeah. I'm good. But see? Told you I was a loser magnet. It's like I got a sign on my back. 'Hey guys, come dump on me'."

"So are you ready to tell me how you managed to toss him across the room yet?" Evan said. "You were like Wonder Woman. Except without the red white and blue panties."

"It's…just…y'know…like I said. I uh, do some martial arts, here and there," Faith said.

"Don't ask, don't tell. I get it," Evan said, seeing right through her like he always did. "But listen, if you ever need a shoulder? Or a place to crash? You know I'll always be here for you. Don't ever forget that."

They sat for awhile, leaning against each other, and looked at the crowd. Faith noticed two girls watching her like hawks.

"Those two," Evan said. "Yeah, they've been up my ass all night. They grabbed my ass, actually. I had to hide in the bathroom for awhile to get away from them. For real. Actually hid in the fucking bathroom at my own party."

"They look good but their brains are on standby. I don't do dumb. Besides, they're not as hot as you. You've kind of spoiled me with your hotness."

"Well, duh," she said, and looked at him. Their faces were very close to each other…their lips were very close to each other. They both acknowledged the moment, and let it pass.

It was nice. Faith liked having a guy who was just a friend. She liked not having to deal with that pressure. Not having to figure out how far to let a guy go this time, where to draw the line. You gave an inch and guys wanted to take a mile. If you let them go too far they thought you were a slut. Not far enough, and they lost interest. She was tired of that game. It was nice, not having to play it…

"What?" Evan said, giving her that smile he gave her sometimes, the one that made him look like a fox in a chicken coop. Faith knew that Evan knew he was gorgeous, and she knew that he knew that she liked him, and she knew he was being insufferable about it like he always was because he liked getting her all hot and bothered. Faith wasn't sure, but she thought he might even have been acting impertinent too. But that was okay. Faith liked when Evan was insufferable and possibly even impertinent, and she liked being all hot and bothered for him. So she giggled, and put her head on his shoulder.

"I wasn't able to make you blush this time," Evan said. "Gave it my best shot too. Did the smile and everything."

"What are you talking about? I call you pretty all the time. I called you pretty like two minutes ago."

"Well, you're both. You and me, you know what we're like? We're like Bruce Willis and whatshername in Moonlighting. We can never get together, or the show will become lame. Except we're both so much prettier than they are."

"I don't know, Ev, Bruce Willis is fine. I'd need to see the whole package to make an informed judgment on that one."

"Maybe for your birthday I'll jump out of a cake. Hey, those two blondes remind me of a joke."

"Okay, so there are these three fifth grade girls, a blonde, a brunette, and a redhead. Which one has the biggest tits?"

"The blonde, because she's eighteen. Why did the blonde stare at the orange juice?"

"What are they complaining about?" Faith said. "They got to grab your ass. I didn't get to grab your ass."

The next day Faith and Rebecca had dinner in Boston's North End, a tiny neighborhood of Italian restaurants and shops and old redbrick houses built on narrow, crooked streets that weren't really maneuverable by car, but that didn't stop people from trying anyway. The double-parked cars, the traffic jams, the insistent beeping of horns and the hurling of expletives in both English and Italian was a traditional part of the neighborhood's ambience. It was a warm day, and old women sat on their front steps, and men sat in the espresso cafes arguing about soccer teams, and Rebecca and Faith explored the neighborhood, peeking in the windows of all the restaurants and cafes, before settling on a place to eat. They were about to walk into a promising little restaurant called Lucca when they bumped into three handsome Italian men coming out of a cafe next door.

"No, no, Lucca has gone down, it's only for tourists now," one of them, a gorgeous man with slicked-back black hair, beard stubble and a big smile, said. "Could we let two beautiful girls eat second-rate food?" he said to his buddies, who were laughing. One of them, whom Faith thought was even more gorgeous than the first, took Rebecca's hand and gently turned her around. "Signorina, try Taranta," he said, pointing down the block. "For you, only the best."

The man holding Rebecca's hand kissed it, and bowed. The third one, a tall man with a ponytail and dark eyes whom Faith would seriously have considered marrying if he asked, took Faith's hand and kissed it. "Watch out for this one," he said. "A heartbreaker. She's gonna be a heartbreaker!" Faith giggled. "If I was only just a little younger man," he said. "Just a little younger man…"

"Enjoy, ladies," the first man said with a smile, and the three of them waved and walked away, resuming their argument about soccer.

"Y'know, Becca, if I didn't know you better I would've sworn you were blushing for a sec there."

The three impertinent Italian men were right about the restaurant, but when Rebecca and Faith got back to the car after dinner, Rebecca didn't drive them home. She headed away from downtown instead.

"Where are we going?" Faith said. They were driving through the tunnel, toward the other side of the city. The sun was low; it would be setting soon.

"Hunting," Rebecca said. "You're ready. You're used to your new abilities now. You're strong, smart and skilled. It's time to begin."

Faith knew this day was coming. This was what all her training had been for. What her whole life, in a way, had been for. She felt the way she did back in school, when some girl called her out and she knew she'd have to either fight or run. You're dead after school. But her whole life up to now, every fight she'd ever been in, every tough project chick she had to smack down to protect what was hers…it was all minor league ball. Now she was in the majors. And getting sent back down meant six feet under. Faith nodded her head, and tried to hide her fear.

"I told you that you'll be able to sense vampires at a distance," Rebecca said. "Mostly because you'll smell them – you'll find all your senses are sharper now but your sense of smell is much sharper than any of the others. You'll find that all vampires have a particular scent that you'll instinctively recognize. In fact you'll be able to recognize anyone, not just vampires, by their scent now. But a vampire's sense of smell is even better than yours. They're like bloodhounds. Once a vampire has your scent he can track you for miles. Remember that."

"Will they know I'm the Slayer?" Faith said. "I mean, like, how you said vamps are gonna smell a certain way to me. Does the Slayer smell a certain way to them? Will vamps be able to tell I'm the Slayer just by how I smell to them?"

"That's a very smart question," Rebecca said, and smiled. "You're a perceptive girl. Luckily the answer is no. To a vampire you simply smell like a teenaged girl; Slayers don't have a specific scent in common. But vampires remember every scent they've ever encountered, just like you will from now on. You have advantages over vampires, Faith; you'll find you're much stronger than the average vampire, and usually faster too, and another very important advantage you have is surprise. You'll immediately know if someone is a vampire simply by how they smell, but a vampire won't know you're the Slayer until you show your strength. It gives you the first move in a fight. That's why it's important that you never let a vampire escape from you. If a vampire runs into you and manages to escape, he'll know your scent after that and when he smells it, he'll know the Slayer is nearby. Even worse, he'll be able to track you. You can only take a vampire by surprise once. Make it count."

They came out of the tunnel onto a highway. Faith looked out the window. They were on the other side of the Harbor, now; the familiar Boston skyline was behind them and receding, the skyscrapers reflecting the light of the setting sun, blood red.

"You're the Slayer now, Faith, and that makes you a target," Rebecca said. "Once you begin destroying vampires word will get around; you'll develop a reputation and some vampires will even seek you out. You must be alert and ready for battle at all times from now on, not just when you're out hunting. You can be attacked anywhere, at any time. Madeleine Lambert once had to fight off seven vampires while she was watching a figure skating competition at the Winter Olympics in a crowd of twenty-thousand people."

"In the vamps' defense, figure skating makes me want to kill people sometimes too," Faith said.

"Don't joke," Rebecca said. "There are vampires who take Slayers like trophies. You're not going to be one of them."

The Lexus parked outside a cemetery in East Boston as the sun set and evening came on. East Boston was a working class neighborhood separated from Boston by the Harbor, its streets lined with ugly tripledecker houses rammed together with hardly any space between them. All surrounded by Boston's Logan Airport, which defined the neighborhood's boundaries and gave it its shape. Planes took off and landed right over their heads, and Faith wondered how the people living there, mostly Hispanic and poor, ever got used to it. Rebecca turned off the motor, and looked at Faith in the dark.

"Remember that nature special that was on last week?" Rebecca said. "The one about lions?"

They got out of the car, and walked toward the cemetery. It was big, with lots of trees, and a black wrought-iron gate all around. There was a playground in a field next to it. The area was residential; there were houses across the street.

"Vamps hang out here? Right in sight of people? Right near a playground?" Faith said.

"Remember they can look human when they want to," Rebecca said. "I've been exploring Boston for months now; I've been to every cemetery in the city. I know where the vampires are. I found evidence two nights ago that a small group, perhaps two or three vampires, is nesting here. The playground just makes it prime real estate for them. That's why I picked this group first. You're going to make an example out of them."

"Uh, okay," Faith said, and took the heavy padlock in her hands…and effortlessly pulled it apart.

"Feel like a lion yet?" Rebecca said, and pushed the gate open, and marched into the cemetery the way Napoleon marched back into Paris. There was a man at the far end, a few hundred yards away, sitting on a tombstone and smoking a cigarette. He wasn't looking in their direction yet.

"Don't think about it," Rebecca said. "It isn't a riddle. You're the Slayer. You know this. Look at him and tell me if he's a vampire."

"Uh…yeah. Okay," Faith said, afraid, and trying not to be. She started walking toward the man.

Rebecca put her hands on Faith's shoulders, and ran her fingers through her hair.

"Don't try to impress me tonight. You don't have to. I'm already impressed. I'm already proud of you," Rebecca said, and hugged her.

"Thanks," Faith said, and looked up at Rebecca, who always seemed so tall and strong and beautiful. "That…really means a lot to me, y'know?"

It was a goodbye hug, Rebecca knew. The girl she met that cold, starry November night wouldn't be coming back…she would be gone forever soon. Rebecca didn't want to let her go.

"Remember what he is," Rebecca said. "He looks human but he's not. He's a demon in human shape and he doesn't have a soul. He murders and rapes and butchers people. He's your prey; nothing more. Kill him."

The night was coming on quickly now, and the moon, a thick crescent, was on the rise through the clouds, sometimes hiding behind them, sometimes revealing itself; it lit the sky with silver. There were street lights outside the cemetery, bathing part of it in hard white light. Faith walked in the dark part, past little weathered tombstones, leaning at angles, some decorated with faded death's heads: skulls with wings. A white Ford Thunderbird drove too fast down the street, blasting an Aerosmith song she knew.

She was aware of all the little leaning tombstones. She was aware of the crunch of twigs beneath her feet. The smell of the grass. The slight, warm wind rustling the leaves. The moon like an eye staring down at her. She was aware of all of it, all at once.

She was aware of the swing set in the little playground on the other side of the cemetery squeaking in the wind and Rebecca watching her from far away and the feel of the stake in her pocket and the smell of the vampire's cigarette smoke and the Aerosmith song fading away down the street…

Her skin tingled, caressed by the wind. It was as if she was feeling the wind for the first time in her life. Everything she was sensing came at her like a wave, like a riptide carrying her out to sea. She almost lost her balance, lost herself. She had to steady herself against a tree, center herself again. The bark felt sensuous under her fingers. In the tree's coarse, craggy skin, in all its sharp, knobby protrusions and its little shallow valleys, Faith could discern a whole new world of intricate patterns…like the tree went on forever.

After a moment she found she could sift through the sense data…sort it, catalogue it. She realized Rebecca was right: the vampire smelled like rotten meat. Like a carcass. And Faith instinctively knew that all vampires smelled the same way. But the vampire also had a specific scent underneath that one, specific to him alone. The rotten meat smell overwhelmed it but it was still there. Faith guessed the other scent must be how the vampire smelled when he was still alive. Rebecca had a specific scent too, and Faith catalogued it, and knew she would always remember it. It was a pretty scent. Faith liked it.

Faith felt like she was waking up, for the first time in her life…that her life before this moment had only been a dream. She felt brand new.

The vampire became aware of her. He turned and dropped his cigarette. Faith heard him growl.

He loped toward her, seeming to Faith a half-animal thing, still growling, but smiling now too. He smelled like rotten meat.

"You lost, girl?" he said. He was a tall Puerto Rican man with dark hair, earrings, and a goatee.

She felt her heart beating and felt a rush… like she needed to move, like she needed to dance, like she needed to fuck. Like she needed to kill.

"You know what I am? You know what this is?" the vampire said. "You're gonna die tonight, honey."

"Didn't you hear? There are two of us now. Double your pleasure…" and she smiled, and bared her teeth at him.

"'Cuz I can go all night," Faith snarled, and ran at him like a lion charging an antelope.

She threw a punch that sent him flying twenty feet across the cemetery before he even had a chance to move and he slammed into a tombstone, breaking it in two. He got up and sprang at her, his face changing to vampire form as he did, becoming a grotesque thing with long animal fangs, but Faith grabbed him by the arm and flipped him over her head into a tree. Before he could get up she rained down punches on him, cracking his head against the tree over and over again. She picked him up by the throat and held him in the air in a grip like steel. He was barely conscious. She held the stake up so he could see it. She smiled.

"Bye, honey," she said, and staked him. The whole fight had taken less than ten seconds.

A moment passed, and then Rebecca was standing behind her. Faith recognized her scent.

The crypt was a small mausoleum, made from granite, with stone steps leading to the arch-shaped door in front, and a peaked roof topped with a cross. The stone looked centuries old and was overgrown with leaves. The door was shut tight. Faith kicked it open with a boom that echoed through the cemetery. The crypt smelled like blood and booze inside, and it was dark, lit only by a solitary torch. A large stone crucifix was broken in pieces on the floor.

Two vampires sitting on a sarcophagus looked up from their card game and their whiskey.

Faith's eyes lit up when she saw the vampires. They were like Christmas presents. She wanted to rip them open, and see what was inside.

The fight lasted almost a minute this time; the short, wiry Mexican kid was quick and got a good hit in on Faith that sent her flying. In a strange way, that made Faith like it even better. She staked him after flipping him with an aikido throw that sent him into a wall, and a knee to the head that put him down.

Now Faith had the other one, a pretty black girl with bleached blonde hair in corn rows and nervous, darting eyes, on the floor, with her knee on the girl's stomach and the girl's right arm in a wrist lock. The girl's bloody earlobe was on the floor beside her. Faith had torn it off, a nasty and very effective little move Rebecca had taught her that had taken the girl out of the fight in the first three seconds. The girl had cowered on the floor, crying, while Faith killed her friend.

The vampire looked up at Faith in terror. Faith looked down at her like she was a piece of meat.

"Excellent," Rebecca said, walking into the crypt. "The aikido throw, the wrist lock…and I especially liked the bit with the ear."

Rebecca laughed. It was a strange sound, in the crypt; it echoed through that dark place and filled it up, like the sun shining in. "Yes, dear, we'll make a right English girl of you yet," she said.

"Think I gotta get some cool lines for when I dust vamps though," Faith said. "Like Arnold Schwarzenegger. I can be all, 'hasta la vista, baby'."

"You realize I haven't the slightest idea what you're referring to, of course," Rebecca said.

"Do all vamps live like this?" Faith said, looking around. The crypt was a dump and it stank. Beer cans and whiskey bottles were strewn about everywhere, there was a pile of dirty old clothes heaped in a corner that smelled like urine, and there were blood stains on the floor.

"Most do," Rebecca said. "Some, mostly the ones that have been around for awhile, have a sense of taste. But most vampires live like transients, finding protection from the sun where they can. They have complete freedom: they kill as they please, and they feel no sense of remorse or even hesitation about it. There's a purity to vampires, the purity that comes from being soulless. Having a soul is a complicated, messy thing; being a good person is hard. But evil is easy."

"I'm hungry," Faith said, when they got back to the car. "Weird. Just ate like an hour ago."

"Most Slayers are hungry after a good kill," Rebecca said. "And your body will be different now: you'll be eating more in general. Don't worry, it will never go to fat. We can find a restaurant somewhere, or there's that leftover hummus in the fridge."

"I need something with some good meat in it. But a restaurant will take too long, I need meat like, right now. Evan says there's this take-out place called Kelly's over on Revere Beach."

"You should have Evan over to the house for dinner sometime. I'd like to get to know him better."

"Sure. Anyway he says they have great roast beef sandwiches. I think it's around here somewhere."

Slaying made Faith hungry, and she had a big sloppy roast beef sandwich with sauce and cheese that was the most roast beef she had ever seen in one place in her life, a bucket of french fries as big as her head and a super-sized Coke. Slaying also made her horny, but she didn't tell Rebecca that. Rebecca looked relieved when she saw the menu was more varied than just roast beef, and ordered onion rings and coffee, both of which she pronounced "capital". And they sat on the beach wall, eating and looking out at the moon on the ocean. It was a beautiful spring night, with summer on the way and the ocean smell strong on the gentle breeze, and the beach was packed with parked cars, and a lot of limos. It was prom season, and the kids in the limos preened and posed and laughed in their rented tuxes and fancy dresses. Faith turned and watched them as they drove by.

"Do you want to go back to school?" Rebecca said, watching the limousines. "Do you miss school?"

"There are better schools. Private schools. I could enroll you for September. Anywhere you want. Trevor could make some calls."

"Never was much for, y'know, homework and all that. Might've been nice to go to prom though."

"You have a destiny, Faith. A grand one. It will be better than any prom." Rebecca looked at Faith with that eyebrow of hers raised. "That's not to say a good man wouldn't help you pass the time though. How's Evan been lately?"

"No big. Never had any luck with guys anyway. I'm good just, being with you and doing our Slayer stuff, y'know? I don't need anything else. Are we gonna be going to Sunnydale?"

"Yes. But not now. We've lost Kendra, but Angelus has been destroyed and Spike and Drusilla are gone. They don't need us there just now and you need more training. The Hellmouth is calm for the moment, so we'll let you put the fear of God into Boston for awhile before we unleash you on California."

"You will," Rebecca said. "And I'm sure you'll be good friends. We'll go out there. But not just yet."

"Taking down Angelus…Buffy's really something. Plus The Master last year too. Becca…tell me honestly. Be upfront with me. Do you think…I can ever be as good a Slayer as Buffy is?"

With Rebecca's guidance, Faith swept through Boston like a hurricane, stalking and destroying vampires with ruthless, brutal tactics. Every day she grew a little more skilled, a little more confident, until finally her name was whispered in fear in old crypts and boarded-up tenements, in crack houses and sewers, anywhere vampires hid from the light. Word spread quickly that a strong new Slayer was marking her territory in Boston, that it was no longer a place where the vampires could hunt as they pleased. Faith's name spread throughout the city…

It was August, and scorching hot in Boston. But Faith liked the heat; it loosened her up. She was in her work clothes: broken-in jeans, a tee-shirt and steel-toed Doc Marten boots, excellent for kicking vampires across cemeteries. The vampires were nowhere near as fab: like most vampires Faith had fought, they looked like eighties rejects. One of these nights Faith just knew she'd be taking on REO Speedwagon in some cemetery somewhere. She wondered if vampires were different on the West Coast…she wondered about Buffy, and how things were for her. She wanted to see her. She knew they could be friends.

What the vampires lacked in style they made up for with lots and lots of muscle. They were big and mean and by the way they moved, Faith could tell they knew how to fight. She smiled.

Faith reached out with all her senses: the old cemetery in the rich part of West Roxbury with its beautifully preserved statues and ivy-grown mausoleums was quiet; the only sound was the chirping of crickets. It was late, and there was no moon to see by; the elm trees cast long shadows in the glow of the streetlights outside. The night was humid and the vampires' scents were strong. Rebecca was twenty yards behind her. One of the vampires wore a gold chain with an Italian horn on it. Faith's stake felt smooth in her hand. A cat hid in the bushes to her right; she was a yellow tabby with black stripes and white paws and green, staring eyes. Rebecca's perfume smelled nice, kind of flowery. The vampires ran at Faith, their boots pounding the soft earth like drums.

They were big but they were slow and Faith ran rings around them. The one with the long ratty gray hair and the droopy moustache tried to grab her. She ducked under him, spun around, and staked him through the back. The other two leaped at her from her left, but she wasn't there anymore. She somersaulted away and came up facing them as the vampires hit the dirt. They got up, growling.

"So what's up? You guys talked real big before. Gonna show me something before I dust you?" Faith said.

"Got a fuckin' mouth on you girl, I'll give you that," the bald one with the beard and the earring said. "I'll shut you the fuck up though. You come into my house? Gonna get smacked down."

"Wow, baldy," Faith said. "Gotta tell ya, I'm positively shaking in my fabulous boots after that speech. Damn, guess I should probably just run, huh?"

The bald vampire pulled out a switchblade. The other one, a guy with a moustache and a crew cut who looked like he used to be a motorcycle cop, had a big, shit-eating grin on his face. But not for much longer.

"Aw, you brought me a present," Faith said, as they both came at her. "That was really thoughtful."

Baldy came first, with Motorcycle Cop behind him. To Faith they were moving in slow motion. She stepped to her right, grabbed Baldy's arm, took his knife away and flipped him over her shoulder. She stuck the knife in Motorcycle Cop's eye, spun and kicked Baldy in the face. He slammed into a tree and went down. She staked Motorcycle Cop as he screamed and tried to pull the knife from his eye, then she spun and faced Baldy as he got up. He threw a big roundhouse punch; Faith blocked it. It sent her flying, but she rolled right back up to her feet.

Baldy ran at her, throwing wild punches which Faith dodged easily. Then he leaned in too close with another roundhouse punch and Faith ducked it, got under his guard and hit him with a right uppercut and a beauty of a left hook. He wasn't ready and he went down. He got back up, a little wobbly now. Faith planted her left leg, whipped around, and kicked him with her right. It sent him flying and he landed hard on the ground. He managed to get himself up again, but Faith could see he was almost done. She walked toward him, anticipating the kill.

He took one last run at her and threw another big punch, but it was slow and Faith slipped it with ease, kneeing him in the balls for good measure. He lowered his hands to protect the area, and Faith hit him with two quick jabs and the sledgehammer of a right cross she had and he was out cold on the ground.

Faith stood over the unconscious vampire, and looked down at him, predator to prey.

"Wonderful, Faith!" Rebecca said with a big smile. "You're getting better every day."

"Couldn't have done it without you, Becca," Faith said, and hugged her. She liked hugging Rebecca. She liked leaning in against Rebecca, and she liked how warm Rebecca always felt, and the way she smelled. Faith had trouble letting go of her sometimes.

"And I see you managed to work your catchphrases in again," Rebecca said, with a raised eyebrow.

"Come on Becca, don't tell me you don't think they're just a little bit cool," Faith said, and grinned.

"Got another one I'm getting ready to try out. How about, whenever I pull out my stake from now on? I say, 'Say hello to my little friend!' Al Pacino said it in Scarface when he was all like, playing this psycho drug kingpin guy."

"A gun with a grenade launcher. He has it in the house along with like, eighty-two pounds of cocaine."

Faith was a jeans and leather kind of girl; she owned dresses and skirts because Rebecca insisted on it, but she rarely wore them. Faith dressed up when they ate at a restaurant with a dress code, or when they went to a museum, but that was about it. So when Rebecca walked by Faith's room and saw her wearing high heeled shoes and a black dress and checking herself out in the mirror a few nights later, she raised her eyebrow and said, "Well. This is a change."

"What do you think?" Faith said. Rebecca walked in and looked in the mirror with her.

"I think you look beautiful," Rebecca said. "I've always said you should dress up more often. Aren't you glad we bought you the dresses now?"

Rebecca's birthday had just passed, and Faith's present to her was two tickets to Les Misérables, a musical which Rebecca had mentioned was a particular favorite of hers and which Faith found out was just starting an engagement in Boston. They had gone to the show together, and Faith was surprised to find herself liking it. She hadn't understood what a musical was, and she'd been prepared for a long, boring night, but once she acclimated herself to the fact that people would just start singing in the middle of the story, she had a great time. And she liked the singing too.

And she'd had to wear a dress, and that hadn't been so bad either. She had decided she'd try wearing dresses and skirts more often. She knew she had the legs for it…why not show them off? Tonight would be the perfect opportunity.

"Still feels a little weird," Faith said. "Kinda like…exposed a little. You sure I look okay?"

"We're going to the Feast in the North End," Faith said. "Evan says the food's great and it's like a big party in the street."

"Hello, Evan," Rebecca said, fifteen minutes later, answering the door with a big smile when Evan arrived to pick Faith up. "Don't you look handsome."

And he did. But he didn't look as good as Faith. She stood at the top of the stairs, looking down at him. Evan looked up at her, and said, "Oh my God."

"Yes, I'm sure, but why don't you come in?" Rebecca said, as Evan was still standing on the step.

"Uh…you like my outfit?" Faith said, and walked down the stairs to him. She moved her arms around in front of her, as if she wanted to hide herself.

"Can you wear that dress every day forever?" Evan said, finally recovering his wits, and smiling his wolfish smile.

Faith laughed, and started to relax a little. "Okay, gonna call that a yes on the outfit," she said.

"I think I'm gonna need a baseball bat to keep the guys away from her, Rebecca," Evan said.

"Besides, maybe I don't want you to keep the guys away," Faith said, with a sexy smile of her own that went up against Evan's and gave as good as it got.

Rebecca watched their banter, watched the way Faith looked at Evan. Evan would have to be a complete idiot not to know how Faith felt about him. And though Rebecca didn't know Evan very well – she had only met him a few times – she knew he wasn't an idiot. Evan could hurt Faith, very badly. It was the one thing Rebecca couldn't protect her from.

After a week of deceptively cool weather August returned to form and Boston got sucker-punched with another heat wave that held the city in its grip like a dog gnawing a bone. It was after sunset and it was ninety-two degrees. Even the vampires had been laying low, trying to stay cool. Perversely, Rebecca and Trevor had decided to go dancing. Faith had much more sensibly decided to stay inside curled up in front of the VCR, which was strategically located next to the air conditioner. Evan would be coming over with rented movies and they were going to pop popcorn and order pizza and have a cool, relaxing night.

Faith had staked a couple of vampires the night before, so she wasn't feeling restless. She lay stretched out on the couch in front of the television like a cat: indolent, satisfied, comfortable…but always ready to pounce.

Rebecca watched her from the dining room, while she waited for Trevor to arrive. Faith was relaxed, her whole body slack. Rebecca knew that was an illusion. Faith could spring into action, fully alert and ready to fight, in a split-second; Rebecca had seen her do it before. Faith seemed to be concentrating on the television. But Rebecca knew Faith's senses were aware of everything around her. If a single sight, sound or smell was out of place Faith would instantly be ready to fight. And she knew that Faith knew she was watching.

"Pulp Fiction, and a Clint Eastwood western. Plus Evan got some Burt Reynolds movie where they all like, race cars and chew bubble gum and laugh over the credits at the end. Evan's a guy so of course he thinks that's hilarious."

"What do you mean? Becca…Ev and I are just friends. We're not… y'know…like that."

Rebecca was torn. Faith had a right to her privacy. Rebecca had very quickly taken over nearly every part of Faith's life since that November night when they first met; she understood what that meant, and the responsibility she had to Faith. But that made it even more important that Faith have something – anything – that was hers, and hers alone. Evan was hers.

When Rebecca got home a little after two, she went to check on Faith on her way up to bed.

Faith's bedroom door was open. When Rebecca peeked her head inside, she saw Faith and Evan in bed together.

They were asleep. Faith was wearing her nightgown, and Evan was still fully dressed. Faith was curled up against him with her head on his chest. Evan had his arms around her.

Faith woke up, and opened her eyes. The little clock said 2:16 a.m. She was confused. Someone was in bed with her…Evan. She recognized his scent.

"Uh…okay, Becca, look…seriously? Nothing happened. I mean…I don't know, I think we just kinda like, fell asleep and…" Faith stammered.

Rebecca turned around. Something in Faith's voice wasn't right. She was nervous…verging on scared.

"I…you know I'd never…I'd never lie to you right?" Faith said. "I mean… you know that, right? We, we didn't do anything, Becca, I swear…"

As Rebecca watched her she could see that Faith was shaking now, and was nearly in tears. What the devil was wrong with her?

"We didn't, we didn't…" Faith whimpered, shaking her head back and forth, with tears in her eyes.

"Sshhh. It's all right," Rebecca said again. "I'm not angry. I know you wouldn't lie to me. I trust you. I always have. Okay?"

I'm not your mother, Rebecca was about to say. But somehow, she couldn't make herself say it…

"I'm just…sorry and…we weren't supposed to and…I won't do it again, I promise…" Faith said, sniffling and sobbing, her tears falling on Rebecca's shoulder, and in Rebecca's hair.

"You have nothing to be sorry for, Faith," Rebecca said. "You didn't do anything wrong."

She looked Faith in the eyes. "Faith," she said, softly. "You didn't do anything wrong."

Rebecca wiped Faith's tears away, and stroked her hair. "Listen to me," she said. "You'll always have a place with me. You'll always be my girl. I won't stop caring about you. I won't. Do you understand?"

"You don't have to be on your best behavior all the time," Rebecca said. "You don't have to be perfect all the time. That's not what I want, Faith. I don't care if you make a mistake…I make mistakes too. Everybody does. All I want is for you to be happy. Okay?"

"I trust you," Rebecca said. "And I'm proud of you. If you make a mistake, if you do something you think you shouldn't have, you can always come to me, no matter what it is, no matter how bad you think it is. I'll always be here for you. And I don't ever…ever…want you to be afraid of me. All right?"

"That's my girl," Rebecca said, and kissed her cheek, and hugged her again. "That's my girl."

"I guess I get…kinda goofy sometimes, huh?" Faith said, sniffling, her eyes red.

"It's one of the things I like about you," Rebecca said, and smiled. Faith giggled, and nodded.

Rebecca took a napkin from the table. Faith's nose was running. Rebecca held the napkin against it.

Then she got up, and poured some coffee. The thought occurred to her that caffeine might not be the best thing for Faith right now – the poor girl would probably do better with a good stiff shot of scotch at the moment – so Rebecca went to the refrigerator and poured Faith a glass of milk instead. Faith drank it.

"Can we please stop talking about penises now?" Evan heard Faith saying as he walked downstairs in his socks fifteen minutes later.

"Hello, Evan," Rebecca said, and looked at him with her arms folded across her chest, and waited. It wasn't an unfriendly look, but it wasn't welcoming, either. If Faith was going to give her heart to this boy, Rebecca wanted to see what he was made of. It was time for him to show his quality. Her stern blue eyes fixed on him, and she waited.

"Okay, look, this was my fault," Evan said. "We went to Faith's room to listen to music, and it was late, and I really should have gone home, Faith told me I should be getting home before I fell asleep. But I thought we could stay up a little longer. I was stupid and I apologize. We fell asleep in the bed but I swear, Rebecca, nothing happened. So if, you know, you're angry? Take it out on me, not Faith. If you don't want me coming over anymore I'll understand."

He was trying to cover for Faith, Rebecca could tell. But he had showed his quality. Rebecca's eyes softened. Evan didn't know her well enough to notice, but Faith did, and she sighed with relief.

Rebecca poured him a cup of coffee, added milk, cream and sugar, and handed it to him with a smile.

"Evan and I are going to talk," Rebecca said, before Faith could interject. "We won't be long."

"I should hope so, but we won't be talking about that," Rebecca said, and put her arm on Evan's shoulder and walked him out of the kitchen.

They sat at the dining room table together, and drank coffee. Rebecca looked straight at Evan, her dark blue eyes unwavering. Evan didn't blink.

"Have you ever met someone, and knew…really knew…that you were meant to be with them?" he said.

"That the world brought you together with that person for a reason," he said. "That no matter what you did, what path your life went down, no matter what mistakes you made, you were meant to be with that person in the end?"

I don't want it to be like this anymore, Faith had said. I don't want this to be my life. Rebecca saved her…

And she knew that if she had gotten there even a minute later, Faith would have been dead.

"I met someone like that once," Evan said. "We were best friends all through high school in Chicago. Her name was Maggie. I loved her."

"We hung out all the time," he said. "We were in the Drama Club together. She always made me laugh."

"I don't know when it happened, when I stopped seeing her as a friend and started seeing her as…something more," he said. "I was dating this girl named Samantha. And we were getting serious…and then I suddenly just realized one day I was in love with Maggie. I broke up with Samantha, told her I was in love with someone else. A few days later I told Maggie I loved her. She was worried…she didn't think it would work. We tried…but she was right. It didn't work."

"A month later…Samantha…she killed herself," Evan said. "She left a note…it turns out she had been in love with me, and never told me."

"I took off," he said. "Maggie was planning on going to school overseas… partly to get away from me, I guess. I was planning on going to Northwestern but I had to get the hell out of there. I applied only to out of state colleges after that and ended up here at Tufts. So these days, yeah, you could say I'm a little gun shy about mixing friendship and romance. It's too much of a risk. If I'd been smart enough to figure that out a few years ago I'd still have my friend and Samantha wouldn't be in the fucking ground somewhere."

"Every day, all the time, you know what I think about? Faith. You think I don't know how she feels? That I don't feel it too? That I wouldn't love it if she was my girlfriend? But…take that chance? You can ruin a friendship. Or a life."

"I can't guarantee that if you and Faith dated, it wouldn't end badly, and you wouldn't lose her," Rebecca said. "That could happen. You're both young, and not so alike as you think. Faith…has had a hard life. It isn't easy for her to trust…to let new people in. But once she does, she's the most loyal friend you'll ever have."

"My parents couldn't have kids, so they adopted me. They didn't tell me until I was thirteen. For a long time I was really desperate to find out about my birth parents, but the records were sealed. I got over it though. I know my Mom and Dad love me. It doesn't matter if they gave birth to me or not."

"Well, yeah. I told her about my parents. I guess that made her want to open up about you. She told me how you adopted her when she was really little… she said she doesn't remember her birth parents at all. Faith's a great girl, Rebecca. You did a great job with her. She loves you a lot."

Rebecca and Faith drove Evan home an hour later. It was a clear night, with a big yellow crescent moon that hung low in the sky and shone very bright on the water as they drove back home along the Massachusetts Avenue bridge that crossed the Charles River, connecting Cambridge to Boston.
"So…you and Ev have a good talk?" Faith said.

"He asks questions sometimes. I'm not in school and I don't have a job and everything and he asks questions so…I told him I'm going to Boston Latin."

"At least you picked a good school. But be careful with lying, Faith. Don't let it become a habit. Someday, you may want to tell Evan the truth."

"With the Slayer thing…my life's so weird. It's just I had to tell him something, y'know?"

"Faith, I want you to get your high school diploma. I can teach you things, and you're doing a good job with your reading, but it's still important to have a high school diploma."

"Do I have to? I mean, if you really want me to I will but…going to classes will be a drag."

"I've looked into it. They have something called a GED. It's a test you can take to prove you know what you need to know to be a high school graduate. Pass the test and you get a diploma. Fair enough?"

"Yes. But the test isn't easy. When you're ready I'll start tutoring you. I've already bought all the textbooks."

Faith looked away from Rebecca, staring out the window at the sky as they turned onto Commonwealth Avenue. "Just in case Evan brings it up? I sorta told him you adopted me when I was a little kid," she said.

It was September and autumn was a few days away; Boston didn't feel like an oven anymore. The weather was holding steady at cool and comfortable for the moment and Rebecca had pronounced it excellent for antique shopping. She and Trevor had gone to Salem to "have a look about" the antique shops the day before, and had come back convinced that there was a vampire lairing somewhere in the little amusement park by the beach out there.

"There's something rotten in Denmark," Trevor said to Faith, after he and Rebecca told her about it.

And so, after Rebecca explained to her about Hamlet, she and Faith had made plans to take their own little trip to Salem to have a look about.

It was a pleasant drive a half hour north of Boston, along the ocean. Faith had never been to Salem before and she was curious. So she looked out the window at everything as they drove along the little winding streets of the old port town that Sunday morning: the colonial houses, square-built, with sloping gambrel roofs and columns on either side of the doors; the famous House of Seven Gables, sullen and gray and foreboding even in the sun, its sharp-angled gables making it seem more like a sprawling assortment of geometric shapes than a house; the cobblestone streets in the upscale shopping district; the girls playing at being Wiccans who hung around all the new-age "magic shops" downtown. It all seemed defined by the ocean: the big sweep of the Harbor was always there in the corner of Faith's eye, and there were yachts, glinting in the sun; the air smelled like the sea.

Billboards all over town proclaimed Salem "The Witch City", and the police cars all had witch insignia on the doors. As they explored the town they drove down a street called Witch Way and passed a school called Witchcraft Heights Elementary.

"They've gone somewhat overboard, haven't they?" Rebecca said. "And the high school football team is called 'The Witches'. It's a tourism thing."

"They should stick with the boats and the ocean and the old houses. The witch stuff all seems fake. They really burned witches in this place?"

"Yes, in the seventeenth century, though I believe the actual site is closer to modern Danvers, which borders Salem. Not a good idea to mess about with Puritans, they were quick with the torches. They were stupid, joyless people; they'd burn their own daughter for looking at them the wrong way. With idiots like them starting it off it's a miracle your country amounted to anything at all."

"No, they never managed to burn any witches. And oh yes, there are witches. My aunt Jane on my mother's side was a witch. Horrible old woman."

"No, but she insisted I go to bed by eight sharp whenever she babysat and she never let me have dessert. Said it would rot my teeth. As for the actual witchcraft, she mostly minced about in the woods having one-sided conversations with Dionysus and creating noxious potions for various ailments. Though she did turn one of her neighbors into a warthog when he called her an ugly old sow, or so the rumor goes."

They visited the Salem Witch Museum ("When in Rome, I suppose," Rebecca said) and to Faith's surprise she found herself enjoying it.

"They tried to burn a Slayer once," Rebecca said, speaking softly in the dark room with its creaky wood floor and little windows and peeling paint that reminded Faith of her classroom in elementary school, as they looked up at the painting of Reverend Samuel Parris's slave Tituba, telling tales of the devil to a group of rapt girls sitting by the fire. "She was an Indian girl of the Pennacook tribe whom some of the townspeople saw killing a vampire, and of course they were frightened, and reacted the way they always did when faced with the unknown: they tried to burn her. Let's just say it didn't go too well for them."

Looking at the paintings and wax statues of those poor girls, Faith felt a kinship with them. They were caught up in something bigger than themselves, something they couldn't control. On the way out of the Museum, she bought a book about the Salem Witch Trials from the gift shop.

"I see you enjoyed yourself," Rebecca said, looking at Faith's book, as they walked out into the sunlight. "I told you history can be interesting."

"It's all about the presentation," Faith said. "I like when you talk about it. You make it sound all cool, y'know? Like you're telling stories. Wasn't liking it so much when my high school history teacher talked about it though. Maybe there should be like a hotness requirement for guy history teachers. You know, like 'you must be at least this hot to teach history to high school girls'. Then we'd all pay attention. Maybe Brad Pitt should teach history."

Faith stopped and grinned at her. "Becca!" she said. "You naughty girl! What would Trevor say?"

"But Mel's so pretty," Rebecca said. "It's just not fair, how he toys with my heart."

They walked down Essex Street, laughing and looking in the windows of all the little shops and restaurants, scouting out likely places for dinner.

"That looks like an interesting book," Rebecca said. "I'd like to read it, when you're done."

"There's just something about those girls," Faith said. "It's like…they didn't ask for what they got."

They had lunch, a clam plate for Rebecca and a burger for Faith, at a little place on the beach, and then they hit the shopping district, poking around in the antique stores, all of which seemed to specialize in things from the sea. Rebecca bought an antique rocking chair for the living room, and a scrimshaw carving for Faith. They took a look around the little shops in the "Witch District", all jammed full of crystals and magic wands and books about Tantric healing and discovering your past lives ("Not one witch among 'em", Rebecca said, eyeing the wide-eyed goth girls and shaking her head), and after dinner at an Indian restaurant on Essex Street, they were ready to hunt when the sun set.

Salem Willows, the park was called, because of the old willow trees that dotted the grounds, and in summer people flocked there to picnic under those trees and look out at the sea, and teenagers smoked joints under the pier and made out in their cars. There was a little amusement park and arcade there too, and in summer the smell of the ocean and the sounds of seagulls mingled with the smell of barbecues and the laughing screams of children playing Skee-Ball and video games and running along the beach. But the park was closed for the season now, and the only smell was the smell of the ocean, the only sound a cold wind raking through the trees.

And as Faith walked through the park with Rebecca that night, all her senses alert, she thought about the fact that it had been a few days since she had killed a vampire and she was restless. She needed this, she had come to realize. Something happened to her that night in May, when she took that first vampire. It felt as if a switch had been thrown in her head…as if she used to be one thing, but now she was something else. Like she had gained something…or lost something. She was the Slayer now, for the rest of her life. She wasn't complaining.

It was a big park, with lots of potential hiding places among the closed shops and arcades and one large area of pretty thick trees that would take a long time to search through if it came to that. But Faith knew they wouldn't have to look around for long. Two women, walking through a park alone at night? If there was a vampire here, he'd find them.

And he did, a minute later. He came out of the arcade and crossed the street toward them with a jaunty stride, smiling, as if he were meeting friends…or women who couldn't fight back. Faith could see him clearly now under the little black antique streetlamp as he entered the park. He looked about twenty-five, tall and thin, wearing a black trenchcoat and combat boots. He had long black hair combed in front of his eyes and he was wearing makeup. A former boyfriend of one of the goth girls in the magic shops, maybe. Faith smiled back at him.

He stopped and stared at Faith, confused. Rebecca was behind Faith now, giving her room to work. Rebecca always stayed close, in case Faith needed help. But she hadn't ever needed help yet.

Faith walked toward the vampire with a jaunty stride of her own. A few yards away from him, she pulled out her stake…and the vampire finally realized just who she was.

He didn't get far. Faith leaped after him with a laugh that echoed through the park, and tackled him a few feet away from the arcade.

He tried to throw her off, but she didn't move. His face changed to vampire form and he tried to tear into her throat with his fangs, but she cracked his head against the pavement with her forearm. She had him pinned, one knee on his left arm, his right arm in a wrist lock. Her stake hovering above him.

Their eyes met. She saw him surrender, saw it there in his eyes. He was hers and they both knew it.

"All this way for that?" she said. "Now I'm gonna be all frustrated the whole way home…"

"Faith!" Rebecca shouted, her voice echoing through the park. At the same moment, Faith sensed something above her and instinctively back-flipped out of the way, before Rebecca's voice even registered.

A vampire landed where she had just been. A female, one of the goth girls who hung around the magic shops, her face twisted and deformed, her long fangs dripping saliva, her eyes narrowed to angry yellow slits. And unlike the boyfriend, she looked tough. Faith could tell by the way she positioned her feet that she knew how to fight.

"Shut up!" the vampire screamed, and raked at Faith's neck with her claws. Faith dodged barely in time. An instant later and her throat would have been torn out. The vampire leaped at Faith and Faith went with her rhythm, didn't try to take the charge or meet it with force but instead redirected it, taking hold of the vampire's arm and using her momentum to flip her over her head. The vampire landed on her feet.

"What's up with the dye job? You lose a bet?" Faith said. She'd have to concentrate. Focus. This girl could fight. Faith threw out talk to throw the vampire off her game, but in her head she was all business. The vampire came at her again, getting in range, moving into her fighting stance and eyeing Faith warily. And that rage, that boiling rage that made her eyes two cat slits, was still there.

Faith's senses reached out. She felt Rebecca without seeing her. The wind kicked up. Somewhere, a dog barked. The vampire smelled foul to Faith, like all vampires did; she smelled like rotten meat. Faith catalogued her surroundings. Arcade. Plate glass window. Trees. Pavement. Hydrant. Fire escape.

The vampire threw a flurry of punches. Faith dodged the first two and blocked the third, but the fourth one got by her and staggered her. The vampire spun and kicked Faith in the face, sending her flying. Faith hit the sidewalk and rolled, anticipating the vampire's next move without seeing it. The vampire pounced where Faith had been a second before.

Faith kicked her in the face and leaped to her feet; the vampire stumbled and her guard dropped for a second and Faith was able to shuffle inside and hit her with a jab and her big right cross and put her down. But before she could follow up the vampire flipped herself away from her. Then she surprised Faith, leaping at her instead of regrouping for another attack, and knocked her down. She punched Faith in the face, cracking her head against the sidewalk.

They rolled on the sidewalk, the vampire slashing at her, and Faith desperately blocking, trying to keep those claws away from her face. With a roar, the vampire punched Faith in the face again and again, cracking her head against the sidewalk repeatedly. Faith nearly lost consciousness. She felt Rebecca, a few feet away, about to jump in. Faith didn't want that; she didn't want to chance Rebecca getting hurt. The vampire went for her throat, giving Faith just enough of an opening to ram two fingers in her eyes. The vampire screamed and released her grip; Faith head-butted her in the nose and kicked her off.

Faith jumped back up, and again the vampire was back on her feet almost instantly. Faith could see out of the corner of her eye that Rebecca had backed away, but she was staying closer now. Faith could feel blood dripping from her nose down her chin. The vampire's nose was bleeding too, and she was squinting in order to see. Faith looked down at her denim jacket. The vampire's claws had slashed it to ribbons.

"Wait, I got it. The outfit, the makeup, the hairdo…you're running away to join the circus, right?" Faith said. Her tough talk was bullshit and she knew it. She had gotten lucky with that last move. She couldn't afford another mistake with this girl.

"You killed my boyfriend! You killed David! You killed him!" the vampire screamed.

"Hate to break it to ya Elvira, but Dave fought like my Grandma," Faith said. "Thinkin' I did you a favor, y'know? You can do better."

Still half blind and squinting, the vampire sprang at Faith, snarling. Faith dodged her, grabbed her right arm as she passed, spun around, twisted the arm up high behind the vampire's back and broke it. The vampire screamed and turned for one last run at Faith, but Faith spun again and kicked her in the face. The vampire flew through the air, smashed through the window of the arcade, and landed flat on the floor. Faith leaped into the dark arcade after her, jumped on her back and got her in a headlock, twisting the vampire's one good arm behind her back. She broke that arm too, with a crack that echoed through the room. The vampire screamed again.

She twisted her head around to look at Faith, with tears in her eyes. "Get it over with," she said.

The girl went limp. She lay completely still on the floor under Faith, waiting to die. Faith took out her stake.

Emily looked back at Faith again. Her face changed to human form. She was pretty.

Faith still hesitated. She felt Rebecca behind her. She felt the whole room around her. One of the video games in the arcade was turned on. Faith recognized the sound. Space Invaders. A cold wind blew through the broken glass. Somewhere a dog barked again. The vampire's eyes were blue. A cockroach skittered across the floor a few yards away. The vampire's breath smelled like cotton candy.

Faith didn't move. She knelt there, in the pile of dust, with the Space Invaders sounds and the cold wind through the broken glass. After a moment she felt Rebecca's hand stroking her hair.

Rebecca took a handkerchief from her pocket, and gently dabbed the blood away from Faith's nose.

Then she put her hand on Faith's shoulder, and walked her out of the arcade, back to the car.

"Would you like to stop somewhere and grab a bite to eat?" Rebecca said, as they drove away.

"It happens sometimes," Rebecca said. "One of them manages to hold onto a bit of their humanity. That doesn't mean she had a soul. It doesn't mean she wouldn't have killed you if you let her. It doesn't mean they wouldn't have murdered us both if we were the two helpless women we were pretending to be."

Two days later the weather did what it had a tendency to do in Boston: surprised you. It was the last day of summer and it was bright and sunny without a cloud in the sky, but the sun was all talk and it somehow managed to be on the wrong side of forty degrees. The day just got colder as it went on, and a raw east wind off the water joined the party, cutting right through whatever you were wearing. The low temperature broke the record in Boston that day, and "dress in layers" was the mantra mothers around the city repeated to their children.

Rebecca knew the previous night had been hard on Faith. Soulless things that they were, vampires nevertheless were as complex as the people whose bodies they walked in and being a Slayer wasn't all black and white. Good people did bad things and bad people – even vampires – could have friendships, could care about someone, could choose sometimes to do good things. Faith would work it out for herself, as every Slayer did eventually. But it would take time. Faith hadn't talked much since yesterday.

"Trevor's picking me up to take me to that restaurant in that horrible skyscraper tonight…" Rebecca said.

"Yes, the Prudential building. Horrible eyesore, but Trevor says the view from the restaurant on top is fantastic. We'd really like it if you could join us."

"Well, uh, I got a thing with Ev and Dan and his girlfriend. We're going to a movie, then The Roxy."

"Oh," Rebecca said, and smiled. "Another time then. And don't forget to bundle up tonight."

Faith nodded, and walked away. Then she turned. Rebecca was putting their equipment back on the shelves. Faith wanted to tell her she wasn't angry with her, that she just needed time to think. But Faith wasn't sure that was true. Maybe she was angry with Rebecca, a little.

Faith wasn't very good company for Evan and Dan and his girl that night, and she begged off right after the movie. She told them she had a headache, and she knew Evan saw right through her. But he respected her space; he always had. So they dropped her back home, and Faith went up to her room, and flung her leather coat on the floor.

She sat on her bed, looking around her room. The only thing that was really hers was the leather coat on the floor. Everything else, Rebecca had given her. She looked up at the painting Rebecca had bought for her, the one she herself had picked out, with all the swirling, liquid blue. Deep, dark blue, like the ocean on a summer day.

Someone once called Boston's Prudential building "a textbook example of urban character assassination". It shot up fifty-two stories into the sky a few blocks ahead of Faith now, towering above everything around it with all the warmth and charm of an electric razor as Faith sprinted down Boylston Street past Copley Square, with the sleek, lofty, fragile-looking Hancock Building looming over it, all silver glass reflecting the night sky, past the grand old Trinity Church looking ornate and palatial and somehow out of place on her right, and the Public Library on her left with its carved stone lions at the doors and the monumental inscriptions that proclaimed, "Built by the people and dedicated to the advancement of learning". A beautiful relic from a more optimistic time.

The Pru was in the Back Bay, about a fifteen minute walk from Rebecca's house. Faith sprinted there in less than ninety seconds.

She walked into the big, quiet foyer, her boots echoing on the polished marble floor, and entered the chrome and glass elevator. As she slowly made her way up to the fifty-second floor, she had a funny feeling in her stomach. She wished the elevator was faster.

She got out of the elevator and her stake was suddenly in her hand, and she found herself stalking toward the restaurant at the end of the carpeted hallway, past the framed prints of the Boston skyline, past the vases on little tables, being careful to make as little noise as possible.

When Faith walked into the restaurant, thirteen vampires were looking right at her. The most she had ever taken on at one time before was three.

It was splattered all over the walls, and sprayed on the windows; the magnificent view of Boston was tinted red. It collected in pools on the rug and on the white linen tablecloths. People were dead in their chairs, their throats torn out. People were dead on the floor. The restaurant was silent, in that specific way a place is silent after death has been through it.

Faith saw Trevor, lying dead in a pool of blood, his throat slit. She felt a wave of panic and looked around for Rebecca. She couldn't see her. A neat black man in an expensive suit sitting at one of the tables checked his watch.

He took a sip of wine, and patted his mouth with his napkin. "Southie girl," he said. "Bet you don't see too many look like me around the old neighborhood, do you? You should've been there during the busing thing in the seventies. Now those were some times."

He turned and looked at her, and his face changed, his forehead becoming deformed, the eyes protruding, the teeth growing to fangs. "Know what I love about this century?" he said. "How everything's so connected. How you can find anyone anywhere. Back in the day, you ate the daughter of the guy next door, you just left town, started over. It was simpler then. Of course, I'm older than I look." He smiled, showing Faith his teeth. Like a wolf that smelled blood.

"These days, everyone's got a social security number, phone, driver's license," Trick said. "Makes it hard for a man to turn over a new leaf, but it does make it easy to find someone. You were a tough nut to crack though. You got practically no records anywhere. License, nope; phone, nope; hospital records, none since age ten; school records stop after ninth grade. Frustrating. But your Watcher was easier. Rebecca Greer. Born August 11th, 1956. Moved from Newcastle, England, to Boston about a year ago, looking for you, I guess. Current address, 48 Commonwealth Avenue. Drives a Lexus. Plate number, 421-GG7. Yes indeed, I do love computers."

He finished his wine. "We had everything set to go today, all the guys in place, but we couldn't find you," he said. "So we were gonna just send some guys to watch your house until you got back, when we spotted Becky heading here. We assumed she'd tell us where you were. We can be very persuasive. But I gotta give old Becky her props: lady's tough. When she wouldn't talk to us, well…the guys then felt the need to relieve their tension by eating the patrons of this fine dining establishment."

He stood up, and the thirteen vampires began to spread out, surrounding Faith and snarling.

"But hey, now you're here," Trick said. "So it all worked out. But the problem with you taking your sweet time and all is, we don't like to keep Kakistos waiting. No, we surely do not. He gets bored, y'see…"

He gestured to the other side of the room, and as the thirteen vampires spread out in a circle around Faith, she could see…

"And then, well…he gets impatient," Trick said. "And he has to find a way to, how shall we put it…occupy himself? And someone to occupy himself with."

Kakistos was an ancient vampire, tall and powerfully built, with a bald head and a face like a pit bull. He had cloven hooves for hands and feet. Faith remembered Rebecca telling her about him…how he was so ancient and powerful that he could no longer assume human form…how he killed Madeleine Lambert, the girl who was the Slayer before Buffy Summers…

He was lying on top of Rebecca. Moving on top of her, and grunting…his pants were down.

Faith felt the scream tear from her mouth and before she knew what she was doing she was in motion, leaping over tables, running for Rebecca. A voice in her head told her to be careful, to remember her training, but the scream that kept on tearing out of her drowned it out and she sprang at Kakistos like a lion…

She almost made it to him. At the last second some of the vampires managed to get in front of her. Screaming, she staked the nearest one, spun around, ducked under the outstretched arms of another and staked that one too. Then she felt arms dragging her down; the others had reached her.

As they dragged her to the floor, she heard a voice somewhere say, "Hurt her, but save the kill for me. I'm almost through riding this bitch."

Faith felt her rage filling her up; she felt it coursing through her arms and her legs. It was fuel and she was going to use it. Her legs kicked out and three vampires went flying across the room. She screamed, kicking the air, squirming and twisting, fighting to move her arms, her screams growing louder and louder and the blood pounding in her ears; at first she could hear voices screaming "Hold her down!" but the pounding in her ears and her own screams were all she could hear now. One of the vampires got too close and she tore into his face with her teeth, getting her mouth around his nose and tearing his nose off of his face.

He ran away screaming, but her screams were louder than his. His blood was in her mouth. She spit the vampire's nose out and kicked her legs and threw her arms forward with all her might. She heard one of the vampires say "Oh no" and four more vampires went flying and suddenly she was free…

The vampires regrouped and ran at her again. Faith leaped at them, covering five yards in one bound, knocking the vampires over like bowling pins and screaming and clawing at the eyes of the closest one she could get her hands on. She landed on top of that one and tore his eyes out of his head with her fingernails. He screamed but her screams were still louder, and she staked him. The others tried to grab her, but she dropped to her stomach, rolled onto her side and kicked out with her legs and two of them went flying. She rolled away from the rest, flipped herself back up to her feet, planted her left leg, whipped herself around and kicked with her right, harder than she ever had before. Two more went flying fifty feet across the room and over the bar.

She waded into the other five and threw a punch at one of them that could have put a hole in concrete; it knocked half his teeth out. He landed on the floor and Faith stomped on his face with her boot over and over again, an insane light in her eyes. She felt the bone give beneath her feet and she felt her rage building inside her like a rocket as the other four grabbed her from behind and tried to pull her away. She screamed and flipped them all over her head and kept on stomping. Faith crushed the vampire's skull like an egg, until his brains were a piece of bloody meat on the floor. She kicked them across the room and the vampire turned to dust.

Everything was in slow motion. The only sound Faith could hear was herself, screaming. All she felt was rage, exploding through her and compelling her forward, and that cold thing at the bottom of her stomach when she thought about Rebecca on the floor. She tasted the blood from the vampire's nose in her mouth. It tasted metallic, like a penny. Her lips trembled a little; she wasn't sure, but she thought she might be crying.

More of them were behind her, trying to drag her down again. She leaped backwards, going with their motion, and headbutted one of them. She twisted around and staked another and heard Trick somewhere saying, "Waste of manpower, waste of resources…" They all piled on her now, dragging her down with their numbers. One of them kicked her in the face and she fell, and then they were all trying to hold her down and kicking her. One of them started kicking her in her right side. She felt fire lance through her side and thought she felt some of her ribs go as she covered up and tried to roll and avoid their kicks.

The vampire without a nose was suddenly standing above her, and he kicked her in the head. Everything went red for a second like fireworks exploding behind her eyes. Faith knew if she didn't get up in the next few seconds she never would.

She caught a glimpse of Kakistos…he was on top of Rebecca, thrusting into her and yanking her hair like a jockey pulling the reins of a horse. Faith heard Rebecca whimper, half-conscious, and then she saw Kakistos shudder, and heard him moan and chuckle. "Best piece I've had in decades," he said.

Faith closed her eyes, and now she knew she was crying. She felt the tears running down her face. She tasted them on her lips.

The vampire without a nose kicked her in the head again, and the other vampire kicked her again in the ribs. She almost lost consciousness. The vampire without a nose aimed another kick at her head…

She grabbed his boot, inches away from her. She looked at the vampires, and everything seemed to slow down again…to freeze.

"I swear to God, I swear to God. I'm gonna kill every last one of you," someone said.

The voice sounded strange. It took Faith a second to realize she was the one who had said it.

Then she flung the vampire without a nose away by his boot, quickly sat up, and grabbed the next closest vampire by the neck and twisted his head around. His neck snapped like a twig and she kicked her legs out and rolled, managing to trip a couple of the others. It gave her enough room to grab her stake and jump back up. Her side felt like it was on fire and her vision was blurred. She forced it to come into focus.

Her rage was still there, but she needed to control it now, to use it. If she was going to get Rebecca out of this she'd have to play it smart.

She let all her senses reach out. Trick was sitting at the bar, drinking wine. Kakistos was standing beside him now, watching. Seven vampires surrounded her. One was on the floor with a broken neck. He'd recover eventually, vampires couldn't be killed that way, but he was out of the fight. The vampire without a nose was running back at her. He'd be on her in two seconds. But he was angry; that would make him sloppy.

A flaming pan sat on a cart at the other end of the room. There were knives on the tables. They were on the fifty-second floor. A vampire would survive the fall but he'd be badly hurt. It was night; she couldn't grab Rebecca and run, the vampires would chase them down outside. She'd have to make her stand here. She didn't hear sirens. Anyone who could've called the police was dead; people down on the street wouldn't have noticed anything happening this far up. Police would help…

Faith was the Slayer. She was only just beginning to understand it, but the magic that was a part of her now had changed more than just her physical prowess, her strength and speed. She had become a predator. A perfect hunter, in both body and mind. She had just tactically evaluated the situation and everything and everyone in the room and then devised a plan of action all in the space of one second. The vampire without a nose hadn't yet reached her.

She grabbed a couple of steak knives from a nearby table and started moving. One knife went straight through the eye of the vampire without a nose. He wasn't expecting the knife and Faith threw it with such force that it knocked him to the floor, and he rolled around screaming. The other six were running after Faith now, but Faith was faster. As she ran she shoved one of the tables through a window. When pieces of the Pru fell fifty-two stories someone down there would notice. It would bring police. Maybe too late to help but it was worth a shot. She stopped short and doubled back, hopping over tables like a jackrabbit, keeping just out of reach. She leaped off a table, grabbed a wooden bar stool from the floor and shoved one of the legs through the heart of the vampire without a nose as she ran past him again. He turned to dust and she kept running. The restaurant was long and wide and it gave her plenty of room to maneuver…

Just as the vampires were about to reach her again she jumped up onto a table, pushed off it with her legs as hard as she could and backflipped, somersaulting back over all six of them. She landed behind them and staked one, but the backflip sent pain lancing through her side; her ribs were definitely broken there. She ignored it. Another vampire got a knife through the eye and fell to the floor and Faith was running again as the other four vampires howled with rage and chased her. She grabbed the flaming pan from the cart as they closed the distance, turned, and threw it in their faces. Two of them caught fire and started running around, panicking.

She heard Trick say, "I think you're gonna need to see to this." She heard Kakistos say, "And of course, you don't want to get your hands dirty." Faith noticed another knife on the floor; it was a butcher knife. Faith noted its location and kept running. She knew what she was going to do with that knife. The two vampires who were on fire had managed to start fires in various parts of the restaurant while trying to put themselves out; the other two were chasing her again. Two she could deal with. She was tired of running. She passed the vampire with a broken neck and knocked a burning table over on top of him. He turned to dust, and Faith faced the two vampires chasing her. They stopped short, just out of Faith's reach. One of them leaped at her…

Faith twisted his arm, flipped him over onto his knees with his arm up high behind his back in a wrist lock and staked him while the other one watched.

She was getting tired. Her eyes drifted out of focus again. She forced them back in focus. Her adrenalin and her hate had carried her this far but she couldn't keep this up forever. The vampire in front of her wasn't sure what to do so she took a moment to catch her breath.

The two vampires who were on fire were hitting themselves with tablecloths and throwing water on themselves to douse the flames, but they didn't look good. The one with the knife in his eye was rolling around on the floor. Trick said, "Will someone please kill that girl? Pretty please? Cherry on top?" The fire was starting to spread. The vampire with the knife in his eye looked done. That left Faith three vampires to deal with, along with Trick and Kakistos. "Oh, and just in case no one noticed? This frigging place is on fire," Trick said.

Kakistos would be the toughest and it was fine with Faith if he wanted to stay out of the fight while she dealt with the goons. Trick was a mystery. She'd solve him later. The vampire in front of her was circling warily. Faith knew he was afraid. His scent told her that. He had seen Faith make a lot of fancy moves and seemed to have decided to just be ready for anything. But Faith wasn't feeling fancy just then, so she grabbed a bar stool and smashed him across the face with it. He went down and she staked him as the other two came at her.

The fire alarm went off, a repeated, high-pitched whine that blasted through the room like a siren. It would bring help. The restaurant apparently didn't have a sprinkler system, or if it did it wasn't working. That was good. The flames would keep the vampires cautious.

Faith's side felt like needles now. She blocked it out. The two vampires circled her, looking for an opening. Not so damn eager when there aren't thirteen of them, Faith thought. She had to get Rebecca out of there. The flames were at the opposite end of the room from Rebecca but the whole place would go up eventually. She had to end this fight.

The vampires finally came at her. One aimed a good kick at her and Faith had to twist to protect her broken ribs and take the kick on the shoulder. It knocked her down but she was fine with that. The vampire jumped on top of her to try to capitalize like she predicted he would and she flipped him over her head with her legs into the fire and he turned to dust. As she got up the other one punched her in the face before she could get her guard up, a good punch that made the whole right side of her head feel numb. She rolled with the punch and flipped herself back to her feet. She saw Trick standing on a chair in a corner of the room pulling a speaker out of the wall. The fire alarm stopped. "Can't hear myself think with this frigging thing," Trick said. It didn't matter. The fire department would have picked up the alarm. They'd send help. Faith knew she just had to hold on.

The ribs were a continuous white-hot pain now and the punch in the face took more out of Faith than she thought. She should've been able to dodge the kick the vampire sent at her just then but her vision doubled again and he tagged her in the chest. She stumbled backwards and he punched her in the face again. It sent her flying and she smashed into a table. The vampire with the knife in his eye chose that moment to finally get the balls to get back into the fight, but Faith tore a leg from the table and threw it straight through his heart as he got up and ran at her. He turned to dust, and Faith jumped up and ran at the last one. She suddenly stopped, catching him off guard, and spun and kicked. Spinning set her ribs on fire again, but the kick put the vampire down. Faith pounced on him and staked him with a scream of triumph that echoed through the restaurant.

A good chunk of the room was burning. Faith felt shaky and tired and her right side hurt, but her vision was okay for the moment and she was alive. She heard sirens in the distance. Finally.

"Gonna cut your dick off with it," Faith said. "Been saving it special, just for that."

"Girl does have a certain flamboyant style, doesn't she?" Trick said. "But, just to reiterate? This place is on fire. So I'll catch y'all later."

"Who else you gonna call when you need to recruit eighteen new flunkies?" Trick said, and headed for the exit. "And I am of course the epitome of style, sophistication, and wit."

"Aw, honey," Trick said, and laughed. "Honey, honey…come on. Use that pretty brain of yours. You really think those slabs of beef you took down were, in any little microscopic way, indicative of what you're facing next? Girl, your life can be measured in seconds. And you surely don't need old Mr. Trick adding to your troubles. Tell you what, Southie. You survive this? We'll do lunch."

Faith knew he was right. Kakistos was the one Faith wanted and he looked plenty hard enough without having to fight Trick at the same time. But Faith wasn't going to forget about old Mr. Trick. Everyone who had anything to do with what happened to Rebecca was going to die. Faith was going to see to that.

"Some day, some way," Faith said. "We'll see each other again, Trick. And when we do I'm gonna stick you like a fucking pig."

"Uncalled for," Trick said. "Now that was just uncalled for." And he walked out the door.

Faith ran at him. He threw a punch that Faith should have been able to dodge, but her ribs still felt like hot needles and she had to settle for blocking it with her shoulder. The punch hit her left shoulder like a cannonball and her whole left arm went numb. She flew the entire length of the room, slammed into the far wall and fell to the floor.

"I'll give your Watcher credit," he said. "We asked her nicely where you were and she wouldn't tell us. Not after we beat her and threatened to kill her, not even when we had a knife to her boyfriend's throat. Bitch and her boyfriend killed five of my boys too. That pissed me off."

Faith got up, picked her butcher knife and her stake up off the floor and ran at him again. She couldn't move her left arm. Kakistos put his beer down and faced her. She stopped just out of his reach and waited for him to make a move. She'd find an opening.

He came at her. He was very fast for his size, but tired and hurt as Faith was she was still faster. He tried to grab her and she sliced his cloven hand with the butcher knife, spun around, and kicked him in the back. It was like kicking a boulder. Kakistos stumbled forward but didn't fall, and spun around and threw a backhand that Faith ducked. It cut through the air like a baseball bat.

She circled him, looking for an opening. He threw another punch that Faith ducked; it put him slightly out of position and Faith was able to get in under his guard and hit him two good right hooks in the face. He tried to grab her but she shuffled back out. She couldn't keep her guard up without her left so she had to keep her distance. He lunged at her and she shuffled to the side and kicked him in the balls. He was smarter than most men: he took the pain and didn't double up and drop his guard. Faith backed up some more, got some distance, tried to lead him closer to the fire where he'd be less confident. He had a long reach and he was too strong; she couldn't afford to let him hit her even one more time. Some feeling was returning to her left arm, but she still couldn't move it.

Kakistos lunged at her again and slammed his fist down like a hammer. Faith dodged, twisting out of the way, and the blow cracked the wood-topped bar in half from one end to the other. When Faith twisted her ribs felt like she'd been kicked by a horse. She stumbled, and before she could get out of range again Kakistos caught her with an elbow to the back of the neck…and then everything went black.

When Faith opened her eyes she was on her back on the floor and he was on top of her. His breath stank of blood and beer. He had Rebecca's scent on him.

"I kill Slayers," he said, leering at her. "I've been around a long time. A man needs hobbies. After you I'll do that bitch in California."

His knee was on her stomach. He had one cloven hand around her neck, choking her; the other pinned her right arm down. The room was spinning, Faith's vision was blurred, and the pain in her side was spiking; his knee was digging into one of her ribs. She bit her lip to keep from crying out. Her knife and her stake were out of reach a few feet away. Her left arm was underneath him, but she still couldn't move it. She tried to throw him off but he was too heavy. He smiled as Faith labored to breathe, slowly tightening his grip on her neck, stretching the moment out. He was too strong…he had her.

"Your Watcher was one hell of a great lay," he said, and laughed. "Nice tight pussy, the way I like 'em. If this place wasn't falling apart around us I'd go take another ride before I kill her."

She was going to move her left hand. She was going to move her left hand. She was going to move her left hand…

Kakistos suddenly sucked in air like he was suffocating, let go of Faith's neck, sat up and screamed. Faith could breathe again, gasping and coughing. Kakistos clawed at her left hand, prying at her fingers. They wouldn't budge. Her hand was like a chunk of stone. He punched her in the face. Faith's head cracked against the floor, but she forced herself to stay conscious…and to squeeze with all her might, as Kakistos screamed.

He flopped around like a fish on a hook and fell to the floor, screaming. Faith crawled to her knife and her stake, coughing. She picked up the knife and the stake and tried to stand, but the room was still spinning a little and she couldn't keep her balance. So she crawled back to Kakistos and crouched down in front of him instead.

"Think…I was kidding…?" she whispered breathlessly, and stabbed the butcher knife into his crotch. Kakistos screamed and flung a wild punch at her, but she avoided it, slashed the knife at his face and sliced his eye open. He screamed again, blood spurting all over his face.

Then Faith tore his pants down, grabbed his penis and balls, and sliced them off with the butcher knife.

Faith liked that scream. She could listen to that scream all day long. She could dance to it.

His blood and fluids spurted out. They smelled foul. That was good. Kakistos didn't smell like Rebecca anymore. Faith didn't want him to have any part of Rebecca.

"Took your last ride," Faith said, in a voice that wasn't human, and that she didn't recognize as her own. Then she tossed his ugly meat, the grotesque, putrid things he had used to violate Rebecca, into the fire to burn.

The fire had more than a quarter of the restaurant now and smoke was filling the room. Faith started coughing. The sirens were outside the building.

The stake snapped Kakistos back from wherever he was and he clubbed Faith across the face with a backhand that sent her flying into a wall. She landed inches from the fire and rolled away just in time. She tried to stand, and fell back down. She got up again, holding onto a table to steady herself. She could see him coming toward her. The stake was still in his chest. He pulled it out, and threw it into the fire.

He ran at her, screaming incoherently. Faith couldn't dodge him in time, she could hardly even stand. He brutally clubbed her in the face and sent her flying again. When she opened her eyes she thought she might have blacked out for a second; she was on the floor and the rug smelled funny. It smelled like blood. She looked down, and saw a little puddle of blood beneath her, and knew it was hers. She tried to get up, but everything was spinning again and she didn't know where Kakistos was…

She felt an exploding pain in her stomach, like someone had just hit her there, and then she slammed through something brittle, and there was cold air rushing by…

The cold air woke her up. He had kicked her out the window. She was falling…from the fifty-second floor of the Prudential building. Seven-hundred and fifty feet above the ground.

She thought about roller coasters. She had never been on one before. She had never been to an amusement park. She wondered if this was what the roller coaster felt like…

Her life came into her thoughts. It didn't flash in front of her eyes like some great revelation. It just…occurred to her. She could think about it, in this last moment, or not. The memories were all there, waiting for her. She held on tight to them…cherished them, in these few seconds she had left.

Faith smashed into the roof of a police car, bounced off of it and hit the ground…

She was lying on the ground. A light was shining in her eyes. Men were leaning over her.

There were lights all around her…red and blue, flashing…police lights. Her whole body felt numb. A man wiped blood from her nose and mouth.

She looked around. Her head hurt when she moved it. It was night. She was lying next to a police car. Its roof was caved in. She heard sirens in the distance…they sounded like fire engines on the way. There were police cars all around, and an ambulance. Two police officers stood near her. "How the hell did she survive that fall?" she heard one of the officers, a tall black man, say to the other one. She heard the other officer, a petite girl with curly brown hair, say, "God must have wanted her to."

Faith leaped up. It was like fighting through quicksand. Pain shot through her left arm, and the needles were back in her ribs. Faith heard the man with the light say "Hey!" She heard the black police officer say, "What the hell…?"

She sprinted for the building. Her legs felt awkward, like she couldn't get them to work right. A song from one of those old Christmas cartoons she watched on TV when she was a girl came into her head.

Her ribs were one continuous, insistent pain. She was pretty sure her left arm was broken; it was bent in a weird way and it hurt. She felt dizzy and nauseous. Her vision was blurring again.

As she ran for the building two more police officers cut her off. Fire shot through her left arm as one of them grabbed her.

"Whoa, whoa! Hold it!" the short Irish guy said. "What the hell do you think you're doing?" She got away from him and tried to run again but both of them grabbed her now, the Irish guy and a fat old man. The petite girl and her partner ran over too.

Faith was crying now. "BECCA! BECCA'S UP THERE!" she screamed, and tore herself away from them. They all fell to the ground and Faith heard someone somewhere say "Jesus!" as she ran into the building.

She ran into the elevator and pressed the button for the fifty-second floor, the doors closing just before the cops and the EMT's reached it. Then she fell to her knees, exhausted and crying. The floor felt cold. She vomited.

A sudden ringing sound startled her. It was the elevator doors opening. She was at the fifty-second floor. She had no memory of the last thirty seconds.

She looked out at the hallway, and hesitated. She was afraid…afraid she would die without ever getting to ride a roller coaster. That she would never go places or see things, like California, or the Louvre. That Brendan would be the last person she ever kissed.

She thought about her mother. She thought about the time when she was seven and her mother had hit her so hard her skull fractured and she was in the hospital for four days.

Kneeling on the cold metal floor of the elevator, hurt and scared and exhausted, Faith had no idea how she would fight Kakistos…how she could possibly manage even to hold him off.

More than half of the restaurant was gone now. Thick, black smoke made it hard to see and harder to breathe, creeping into her lungs. She couldn't see Kakistos anywhere. She looked toward the center of the dining room, where she remembered Trevor's body was. The whole area was engulfed in flames now.

The area around Rebecca hadn't gone up yet. Faith jumped onto the bar and ran to her.

Faith put her coat over Rebecca and gently turned her head so she could see her face. It was swollen and bloody, yet Rebecca looked unnaturally pale. Her neck had two puncture wounds.

Faith carried her to the elevator. Rebecca never opened her eyes again, never stirred. Faith couldn't feel her heartbeat.

Rebecca was pronounced dead a few minutes later, on the plaza outside the Prudential building. She had lost too much blood.

EMT's sat Faith down and worked on her for awhile; she watched as they zipped Rebecca up into a body bag and took her away. They led Faith to an ambulance, and she followed them silently. She didn't say a word in the ambulance. She didn't say a word in the hospital's examining room forty-five minutes later, as she sat on the cold metal table in her socks without her bra on, wearing the little cotton dress they gave her that was open at the back, and the doctor held the cold stethoscope against her back and asked her to breathe in, and his hands probed her ribs. His hands were cold. He asked Faith questions and she didn't respond; eventually they worked out a system. Faith either nodded, or shook her head. But she didn't say anything, and she didn't look at him.

She looked around, at the white walls with the chipped paint, at the metal shelves with boxes of latex gloves and tongue depressors and bandages and moist towelettes and all the other things hospital examining rooms always had, and at the poster showing the spectrum of pain and how you should let your doctor know how bad it is by saying a number from one to ten, and at the other poster with an illustrated diagram of the lungs. The room was too bright. The fluorescent lights were harsh; they brought everything into too sharp a focus, left no room for ambiguity. They made a sound like a little bee buzzing around Faith's head.

Faith didn't like it in there. Everything felt too cold and too hard and too bright and too closed in. The room smelled like blood and rubbing alcohol.

Faith suddenly felt the old fear at the bottom of her stomach: the metal table and the rubbing alcohol and the feel of the stethoscope had brought it all back, dredged it up from all those years ago. The room seemed very small now. The doctor's hands were on her and she didn't want his hands on her. They were rough and cold and he was right up close to her and Faith didn't like his scent; he smelled like cigarette smoke and tuna fish and chewing gum and deodorant all mixed together. She felt like it was getting harder to breathe, like every breath she took was giving her less air than the one before it. She knew that feeling was an illusion, that it was all in her head; she'd had to fight the feeling back before, when she was a girl. She hugged herself, as the doctor examined her, and she felt cold in the flimsy little cotton dress that was open at the back, and she tried not to think about her breathing, or how small the room was.

A nurse came in after the doctor was done and they had put a cast on her ribs and another cast on her arm; the nurse asked if Faith had identification. Faith shook her head. She had a social security card but she kept it at home. She didn't want them to know her real name anyway. When the nurse gave her a form to fill out she put down a fake name and address.

She didn't say a word to the two police officers, the tall black man and the petite girl, who came to see her when she was in the hospital bed later, hooked up to an IV machine in the big, crowded, antiseptic-smelling emergency room with all the junkies in the beds around her, and said they were sorry for her loss. A detective came in and said she was lucky they weren't going to press charges against her for interfering with a crime scene and assaulting police officers. He was a sloppy-looking old man with gray whiskers who needed a shave. His breath smelled like stale coffee. "You're a perfect capper to a perfect goddamn day, missy," he said to her, when she didn't say a word to him. The cops and the detective went away for awhile and another nurse, a fat old woman with beady eyes and gray hair in a tight perm, told her they couldn't find her name in the system and did she have insurance? Faith didn't say a word to her either.

The next morning, when she had a moment alone, Faith unhooked herself from the IV machine, found her clothes, snuck into a bathroom, washed up as best as she could with the broken arm, and quietly slipped out of the building.

It was a cold, bright morning. The pain was a little better; they had doped her up with something overnight and she'd slept for a few hours. She had thirty dollars in her pocket and she didn't feel like walking home so she took a cab.

It was a pile of rubble now, and it had taken a couple of other houses with it. There were no fire engines there, but smoke was still in the air and the charred remnants of the house were still wet. Puddles of water flooded the street.

Faith paid the cabbie, and wandered through the remains of the bright, beautiful house with the grand piano and the hardwood floors and the real working fireplace, the castle Rebecca had made for them both. It didn't feel real, now…it felt like a place she only dreamed she had lived in. The piano was gutted. Faith crouched down and tapped one of the keys. It made a small, pretty sound.

She saw the photo of Gwen in the rubble, in the little silver frame she and Rebecca had bought. The frame was melted, but the photo had survived. She took it out of the frame, and slipped it in her pocket.

Then she ripped one of the wooden legs off of the piano, found a long knife in the rubble that was only partially melted, and walked away.

The car was gone too. Rebecca had been teaching Faith to drive, and had given her a set of keys. Once Faith got her learner's permit Rebecca was going to let her use the car. Faith had just checked every inch of the parking garage near the house where Rebecca kept the car, and the Lexus just wasn't there. Trevor picked Rebecca up the night before; they took his car to the restaurant. Rebecca had left the Lexus in the garage. Someone had stolen it. With a car, Faith would have had some options. Without it, she was down to the money in her savings account. Rebecca had given her an allowance of a hundred dollars a week and Faith didn't always spend it all; Rebecca bought her the things she needed, the allowance was supposed to be fun money. Faith had managed to save almost a thousand dollars. It would support her for a little while.

She remembered Rebecca was the one who insisted that she put any money she didn't spend in a savings account. Faith was going to just put it in her bureau drawer. If she'd done that she'd be down to the money in her pocket now.

First the house, then the car. Faith knew it was Kakistos. He was still out there. Kakistos must have sent his people to burn down the house and take the car.

She walked out of the parking garage, with her piano leg and her partially melted knife.

Faith sat in the Public Garden, under a willow tree. Her left arm felt a lot better suddenly, and she was surprised to discover that it didn't seem to be broken anymore. It still hurt but she could move it. Which made whittling a new stake a lot easier. So she sat under her willow tree, whittling herself a stake out of the piano leg, and thinking about things. She had almost a thousand dollars and nowhere to live. She had the clothes on her back. And she had one very angry vampire on her back too.

Faith remembered Rebecca's voice…that pretty accent she had. Her scent. The way she'd raise her eyebrow sometimes. How warm she always felt.

She needed clothes. They'd have to be cheap. Not having a place to live was going to be a problem soon too. She had lived on the street before and she could do it again…but with Kakistos out there, that was dangerous after dark. And there was also the little problem of Kakistos not dying when she staked him. That had never happened before. As far as Faith knew, it was impossible.

She was up against a super-strong ancient vampire who was fully capable of kicking her ass one on one. And he apparently couldn't be staked. And he had Trick helping him, along with a network of hired muscle. And she had cut his dick and balls off, so he was bound to be grumpy. And she had no place to live, no change of clothes, no car, and not much money.

She looked up at the statue of George Washington on his horse. She remembered what Rebecca had told her…about how the American Revolution succeeded when it had no right to, how a bunch of farmers held off the greatest army in the world. All because of that bronze guy on the horse.

Her stake was done. It was nowhere near as good as the one Rebecca gave her but it was wood and one end was sharp and that was good enough. She threw the knife and her cast in a barrel and headed downtown.

Her social security card had gone up with the house and without it Faith had no identification; all she had was her ATM card. She didn't think the bank would let her close out her savings account without identification so she withdrew the maximum amount allowed from an ATM and ate at a McDonald's downtown and thought about things some more. She hadn't eaten fast food since she met Rebecca. Rebecca wouldn't allow it. The dollar menu burgers were cheap and they tasted like it. But they were food. She knew she'd have to get used to the dollar menu. Not much steak from now on. She sat in the little blue plastic chair and ate her three burgers and fries and drank her Coke, and thought about things.

She realized she would have to go back to the hospital and find out about Rebecca's funeral arrangements.

A drunk old homeless guy who smelled pretty festive walked by her table and noticed the stake. "Is that a sausage in your pants or are you just happy to see me?" he said, and laughed like it was the funniest thing anyone ever said. "You got a quarter?" he added.

Faith gave him a five dollar bill. "Why don't you buy yourself something to eat," she said. "The burgers only taste a little like hockey pucks."

"Eat in this place?" he said, and looked at her like she was the old crazy smelly homeless person. He pocketed the five and walked out.

She could see a Porsche with blacked-out windows outside driving slowly down the street. Faith knew a little about cars; tinted windows were allowed in Massachusetts only up to a point. If the windows were too dark they were illegal. This was the second car with completely blacked-out windows she had seen today. Neither one could possibly be street legal.

If it was Kakistos, it meant he could track her during the day. It meant he knew where she was. They'd follow her until dark, then corner her somewhere…

Her ribs were still stiff and though she could move her left arm a little she couldn't fight with it. She was in no condition to fight Kakistos again yet, never mind fighting him with a bunch of his goons around. And even if she was…how do you kill a vampire who can't be staked?

She needed help. Her money wouldn't last long. It was the first day of autumn and winter would come after that; it would just get colder. She had nowhere to live and she'd be down to begging or stealing eventually. She could go to Evan. She knew she could stay with him as long as she needed to.

But if Kakistos was following her he'd track her to Evan and kill him. Anyone she went to would just get themselves killed helping her…

She finished her food and walked back outside. Way back in traffic she could see an SUV with blacked-out windows waiting at a light.

Faith walked up the block. The light changed and she heard the cars moving again behind her. She knew the SUV was the fourth one back. She hurried around a corner, tore a piece of iron railing from a stairway and held it down at her side, waiting. When the car followed her around the corner, Faith smashed its windshield in.

Sunlight flooded into the car, and two vampires burst into flames and turned to dust. Faith had her answer.

People were pointing. Cars were stopped in the street. She heard somebody say, "Someone find a cop!"

She dropped the iron railing and ran across the street, around the block, and then went into the Filenes store through a side entrance. It was a huge, noisy, crowded department store with six floors crammed full of stuff, and exits on every side of the building. She needed someplace she could disappear into and think for awhile. Any vampires following her would have to get out of their cars to go into the store and it was still daylight. She'd be safe there for now. She walked past the perfume counters, toward the escalators leading to the Basement discount store. She'd strategize and shop at the same time.

At least, that was the plan. She'd just picked out some clothes – a few cheap outfits that were just barely acceptable but wouldn't win her any fashion awards, and a cheap backpack to carry them all around in – when Evan ran up to her, breathless and frantic.

"Hey, Ev," Faith said, ignoring the pain in her ribs that he was now making much worse.

"Didn't you see me?" he said. "I shouted to you but you just ran away! Jesus, I've been so worried about you! I went by your house to make sure you were okay and the whole place was burned to the ground! Where have you been? You couldn't call? Do you know how worried I was? Why didn't you call?"

"That fire at the Pru last night…it's all over the news," he said. "They're saying some psychos started stabbing people and set fire to the place…"

Faith wanted to get away. She couldn't look at him. She couldn't let Evan get involved in this. He'd get hurt…

"Faith…you said Rebecca had a reservation at the Top of the Hub last night," Evan said.

Evan took her chin in his hand, and gently raised her head, and looked her in the eyes. "Was…was Rebecca there when it happened?" he said.

Horror dawned in Evan's eyes. He gently hugged her again, and brought her toward him.

"I couldn't stop him!" she screamed. "I wasn't good enough, I wasn't strong enough! And now she's dead and now she's dead…she's dead, Becca's dead…"

"I couldn't stop him, Evan! I couldn't stop him!" she screamed again. "I'm the Slayer and I'm supposed to be able to stop them all but I wasn't good enough and now she's dead and it's my fault! It's all my fault!"

They knelt on the floor together, holding each other. People were staring. It didn't matter.

She was wearing his long leather coat. He had given it to her. "It's cold, honey," he had said.

They were at the Papa Gino's on Tremont Street, a pizza place a few blocks away from Filenes, sitting in a red plastic booth, drinking Cokes and sharing a pizza that neither of them had touched.

Then she looked up at him. She wanted so badly to tell him…to tell him all of it. To share the weight with someone else…

Without conscious thought she pulled Evan out of the booth and dragged him to the floor with her just before the gun started firing. It made a strange, popping sound; judging by the sound alone she wouldn't have known it was a gun. It destroyed the front window and raked bullets through the room.

"Down! Everybody get down!" Faith screamed, while lying flat on top of Evan on the floor, completely covering his body with hers. Whoever was firing wasn't taking chances, pumping out enough bullets to mow down a battalion. Faith dragged Evan with her behind one of the booths, trying to get him out of the line of fire.

It was still daylight, with a bright sun. Everything Faith knew about vampires, everything Rebecca had taught her, told her that the vampires wouldn't get out of that car. They could cover themselves up and run in, but they'd be fighting at a disadvantage. All she'd have to do is kick them back outside and they'd be dust.

The bullets seemed to go on forever, making little popping and zipping noises as they sliced through the restaurant, bludgeoning through walls, smashing through glass, ricocheting off the metal counters and the cash registers. The air was full of smoke and debris, as if the restaurant itself was in motion all around her. Faith felt her heart beating. If she lost Evan she'd have no one left. She held on tight to him. Her hands were shaking.

Evan's breathing was very rapid. Faith knew he had asthma and he was trying to suck in air, beginning to hyperventilate. She caressed his cheek.

"I'm right here, Ev," she said, softly, as the room exploded around them. "I'm right here." He opened his eyes, and looked up at her. "We're just gonna whisper now, okay?" Faith whispered. He nodded.

"Okay. I'm right here, okay Ev? I'm right here, and I won't let anything happen to you. I just want you to breathe with me, okay? Just breathe. We're gonna breathe together, you and me."

She caressed his cheek, and stroked his long, dark hair, and breathed, slow and steady, normal breaths, not trying to take in too much.

He breathed with her. She looked in his eyes. They were big and brown, like hers.

"That's it, baby," she whispered. "That's it. Slow, steady. Slow, steady. Feel me breathing, feel my chest on top of yours, feel the air going in and out. I'm right here. I'm right here. I'm right here."

The bullets finally stopped. Faith didn't look up yet. She listened instead. Listened for the sound of someone walking in…

They breathed together, in the silence. No one moved around them, no one made a sound. There had been at least eight or nine other people there when the firing started.

Faith smelled the blood in the air, and knew she and Evan were the only ones left alive in the restaurant.

And Faith suddenly realized that she was in love with Evan. And she knew that she couldn't ever see him again, after today.

She closed her eyes, and promised herself she'd be strong. She opened them again, and looked at him.

Evan's back had been to the window. She hadn't seen any cars following them on the way to the restaurant. They must have been hanging back pretty far and that meant they wouldn't really know what Evan looked like. If she started running, right now, left the city, she'd draw them after her and he'd be safe.

"That's it, baby, you're doing it. You're doing it, you're doing it," Faith whispered, as Evan's breathing returned to normal.

They got the hell out of there. Faith dragged Evan behind her, cutting down side streets. They stopped at a drug store and picked up Evan's inhaler, and then Faith dragged him behind her again, running in and out of stores, staying out of sight. Faith made her way back to the Public Garden, taking Evan into a little underpass under a footbridge that was hidden from the street. The sun was still bright. They'd be safe there for now. They sat on a bench together.

"Then you'll do what I'm gonna ask you to do, without asking me why. You'll do it for me."

"You're gonna go home. And you're not gonna say a word about this – not one word – to anyone. Not the cops, not Dan, not your parents. No one."

"Evan. Listen. This is important. You're not gonna say a word about me to anyone. You're gonna forget you ever knew me. If anyone ever asks you about Faith Lehane you have no idea who she is. You're never gonna mention my name again, to anyone."

"You're not gonna go to Rebecca's funeral. You're never going to mention her name or that you even knew her. You'll do all this for me if you care about me. Do you care about me, Evan?"

Faith almost broke down, when he said that. She almost took it all back, and ran away with him.

She was crying…she couldn't stop the tears now, no matter how hard she tried to be strong. He gently wiped them away.

"And…and you won't ask me why," she said. "You'll just go. You'll just go, right now!"

"No," Evan said…and he put his arms around her, and pulled her toward him, and kissed her.

They remained that way for a moment, on the bench, kissing each other. Then Faith pushed him away.

"Evan, we can't do this!" she pleaded, crying. "You have to go! If those guys find us they –"

"No!" he shouted. "I'll be god damned if I'm gonna…gonna just run away when you need me!"

It was all falling apart. If Evan went to the police there'd be a record, he'd be a witness, Kakistos could track him down…if Evan tried to stay with her, and Kakistos found them together…Faith felt herself starting to panic.

"No, baby no…please…please? You have to leave, you have to…I can't protect you from them! I can't…they're after me, not you…if you leave you'll be safe! Please? Please?!" Faith screamed, begging, not knowing what else to do…

Evan took her hand. "Faith…I don't know who's after you or why," he said. "But we can go to the police, I'll help you, we –"

"If you try to help me you'll get killed! The guys who are after me…they killed those people in the Pru to get to me!"

"They killed all those people in the Pru and the Papa Gino's to get to me," Faith said. "If we go to the police they'll kill them too."

Faith got up and picked up the bench Evan was sitting on and lifted it over her head with one hand.

"Oh my fucking God!" Evan said, sitting on a bench suspended eight feet in the air, held aloft by a girl.

"The guys who shot at us are vampires," Faith said. "I have super-strength and I use it to kill them. That's my job. That's why they're after me."

"It wasn't guys with knives who killed those people last night," Faith said. "It was vampires. They ripped those people's throats out."

She put the bench down. Evan quickly stood up, as if he thought the bench might try to gallop off with him. Faith tore one of the iron legs from it and bent it into a pretzel in front of Evan's eyes.

"I'm the Slayer," Faith said. "I can bench press a thousand pounds and I can punch through walls. Last night I killed most of the vamps at the Pru, but one of them kicked me out the window. I fell all the way from the top floor to the street and survived."

"Vampires," he said. "You're saying…vampires exist. This is…Jesus, this is just…" He shook his head, bewildered. "And you fell from the top of the frigging Pru and survived…?"

Faith took her stake out of her back pocket. "Know how you're always asking me why I carry a hunk of wood, and I always say it's my good luck charm?" she said. "This is a wooden stake. If you stab a vamp through the heart with it, it dies, turns to dust."

"That's what the Slayer does," Faith said. "What the Slayer is. She's the one who keeps the vamps under control. Rebecca was my Watcher. She helped me, taught me how to fight."

"You are Wonder Woman…that's how you threw that guy across the room at The Roxy. You're Wonder Woman."

"You can't come with me, Evan," Faith said. "I can't fight them and protect you at the same time. They'll kill you and…and I love you."

"I love you and…and if you died I…I couldn't live with myself if you died," she said.

He hugged her. She leaned her head against his chest, just the way she had always wanted to.

"I have to draw them away from here, away from you," she said. "Once you're safe and I'm healed up from yesterday I'll take them down."

"Well that fucking sucks. I want to come with you. I've got money. We'll find a place somewhere…"

"For Christ's sake," Evan said. "You're the one. It was always you. I'm such a fucking idiot. We should've had so much…we should've…been together, and…I was afraid. That's why we weren't together. I was afraid. I was a fool."

"We had stuff," Faith said. "The friend stuff, hanging out? It was important to me. I wouldn't trade it for anything."

"I said I'd never do this. That I'd never let love get in the way of a friendship again. And then…I meet some vampire-slaying, super hot girl and I realize the thing I really want most in the whole world is to see her in red white and blue panties."

Faith nodded, and cried, and stayed close against him. She couldn't have him for very much longer. She'd make the most of every second.

"No, perv," Faith said. "And Wonder Woman's panties weren't red white and blue. They were blue with little white stars like the American flag. The top she wore had the red."

"I wanted to be Lynda Carter when I was a little kid. I'd like, spin around the way she did on the show when she was changing? And I'd pretend I was changing into Wonder Woman. Everyone started calling me "Spin Around Girl".

The kissing became passionate. He ran his hands down her back, and up her sides, toward her breasts…her hands touched his chest, and moved down over his stomach, to his waist…

"But I love you," Evan said. "You can't leave when I just now discovered I love you. Please. Don't leave me now. Don't leave me."

"You'll die," Faith said. "You'll die if I stay with you. Don't make this harder for me. Please? Please, Evan? For me?"

By sunset she was on a Greyhound bus. She had Evan's coat, her stake, a backpack with a few changes of clothes, her ATM card, the photo of Gwen…and the knowledge that Evan was alive somewhere. It would be enough.

Looking back at the city receding into the distance, she saw the Prudential building reflecting the light of the setting sun, blood red.

She had been run out of her own territory. She had lost Rebecca. She had left the man she loved behind and she could never see him again.

Her strong, lithe body taut, her breathing relaxed, she moved through the air beside him, focused on her center of gravity, her rhythm adapted to his, but still separate, still apart from him…from this man she loved: this man who had tried to kill her, and everyone else she cared about.

She watched him move, letting her discipline slip slightly; he was so graceful, so beautiful. There were times she couldn't take her eyes off him.

They exercised together every morning in his mansion. Not talking, not touching…just moving, separate from each other, yet together. Trying to achieve the same thing.

When they had really been together…when he was hers, and she was his…all they tried to do was enjoy each other. But that was before her Angel became Angelus…before her beautiful Angel became an ugly thing, a treacherous, murderous thing: a monster without a soul.

He was still beautiful, on the outside. Graceful, muscular, handsome, with the deepest eyes…eyes that had seen centuries. Buffy felt the familiar longing she always felt when she looked at him.

She put the thought out of her mind. She was used to repressing that part of her, now; she did it every morning, when she saw him. Every morning since he had come back…

Angelus had planned to kill Buffy and drag the world into a hell dimension. But in the end, he couldn't bring himself to kill her; he had the upper hand during the fight…but something stopped him from finishing her. His hesitation gave Buffy the chance she needed, and she defeated him.

At the last moment, his soul was restored. Angelus was gone, caged again. Her Angel had returned…too late. The hell dimension had planted its seed here. Only his blood would satisfy it…

So Buffy stabbed the man she loved through the heart, and sent him to hell, and saved the world.

A month ago he returned from that hell dimension she sent him to, like a wish that had been granted. Though he had come back feral, senseless, he had his soul. Buffy could see it, flickering in his eyes.

From his cryptic mutterings and darkly suggestive hints, she gathered he had been in that dimension for nearly a century, even though he had only been gone for three months. Time was different there. And it wasn't a place for people with souls. It had hurt him.

He was still beautiful, on the outside…but Buffy knew the wounds he took in that place ran deep. Angelus was back in his cage, but the damage he had done, the lives he had destroyed, would always be there now, in Angel's eyes.

She took care of him as he acclimated himself to the world. She brought him food: animal blood from the butcher shop. She stayed with him. He didn't say a word to her at first. She stayed anyway.

After a few days, he started trying to recover his focus, his balance. He sat very still for hours, meditating. She sat still with him. A week after that, he began the tai chi exercises.

On the third day of the exercises, he finally spoke directly to her. He said, "Good morning."

On the fifth day, he offered her a glass of orange juice. He didn't drink it; vampires didn't need food. He had gone to the supermarket the night before, and bought orange juice, so he could offer it to her. He had bought muffins too, and they ate a little breakfast together that morning, after their exercises. He drank his pig's blood, and she drank her orange juice and ate her muffin, in silence.

They had breakfast together every morning now. On weekdays Buffy woke up at four a.m., to spend the mornings with him before school, and they exercised and ate breakfast, and sometimes Angel would say a few words to her.

They never talked about Angelus. They never talked about their feelings, or their relationship, if he was hers or she was his, or where they would go from here. They didn't know where they were going. They took it a day at a time.

Yesterday, they had lain in bed together for an hour after exercising. That hour got her through the school day and through the night, through slaying in the cemetery and cramming for her history test at midnight, until she woke up at four, showered, and rushed back to him. She put on a little perfume this time, the perfume she remembered he used to like.

She didn't try to touch him. She didn't initiate anything. She just smiled and said, "Hi."

At 7:30, she said, "I have to get to school," and walked to the door, trying not to look at him, trying not to let him see how much he had just hurt her.

It was the first time he had called her by her name since he came back. The name shattered her composure. Her hand shook a little, and she nervously ran it through her hair, trying to smile, trying to be in control, and failing. She could only just barely stop herself from crying. She felt the air between them, the exact distance separating them, every molecule and particle of it. The name sliced through the distance, sliced into her.

Buffy's whole body felt like it was shaking. He came to her, and touched her cheek. Her heart beat faster.

They couldn't make love; they both knew that. It was their lovemaking that had released Angelus, that had given Angel the one moment of perfect, transcendent happiness that had activated his curse, and cost him his soul. Buffy thought that some part of him must have hated her for that, for destroying the long, slow process of redemption he had worked a century trying to achieve. But she was wrong. He could never hate her. He could only ever love her.

She would forget them, sometimes; there were times she went days without thinking about them. But they always came back to her, eventually…they never left her for long.

After three days on a bus Faith ended up at a dump of a bus station at the ass end of California, a little town on the Mexican border called Calexico, and just in the nick of time: the bus was crowded and stuffy and the other people on it had gotten pretty ripe after three days. Sometimes Slayer senses were a burden. It was almost sunset and the sun was big and golden in a bright blue cloudless sky and the day was windy and hot and felt like summer. Faith saw actual mountains in the distance when she looked around. She had never seen mountains before.

She was on a bus to Sunnydale an hour later, and that night she was sitting in a cramped little motel room that cost twenty dollars a day. She'd gone to an ATM and pulled out more money; the room was paid for a week. After a quick stop at the local McDonald's to chow down on the cheap Faith had two-hundred and fifty-five dollars in her pocket and a hundred and sixty dollars left in her savings account.

The room was lousy. A couple of rickety chairs, a tiny old TV set, a cheap little scratched-up bureau, a bed. A huge painting hung on the wall, all black and a blinding shade of orange, something about birds flying over the ocean, everything silhouetted by the giant, orange setting sun. Faith knew from all her visits to museums with Rebecca that the painting was an attempt at Expressionism. In this case, a swing and a miss. But the room was all she could afford.

She hung what clothes she had in the little closet. She set Gwen's photo on the nightstand beside the bed. In the morning she'd buy a frame for it.

Willow Rosenberg left the Magic Box with her mandrake root and salamander eyes and hurried home with all the speed and stealth she could muster through the deserted, shadow-darkened streets. She knew it was stupid of her to come alone to this part of town after dark; the Magic Box was in a dreary, squalid neighborhood of tenements and boarded-up buildings and liquor stores, with the occasional crack house sprinkled in, and although the neighborhood's low rents allowed the Magic Box to turn a profit they were more than offset by the high incidence of vampire attacks, and people steered clear of this part of town after sunset. But Willow needed those ingredients tonight; tomorrow just wouldn't do.

The dark in Sunnydale was a strange thing, Willow thought, as she watched the sky and hurried home as quickly as she could: it had a quality, an intensity to it, that darkness didn't seem to have in other places. The light from the street lamps struck out feebly against it, and was swallowed up.

And then from out of that dark came the sound Willow had been dreading…footsteps behind her.

Being the best friend of a Slayer had eliminated much (not all) of Willow's naiveté: she didn't even bother looking over her shoulder and just started running, fumbling through her handbag for her stake and cursing herself for her impatience. A good witch had to be patient, yet she hadn't even had the discipline to wait a single day for the ingredients she needed for her spell. She'd wanted results now, tonight; she didn't want to wait for the sun. She heard the footsteps behind her breaking into a run, and an acid drop of fear splashed down into her heart.

"Hey cutie, what's your hurry?" came the shrill, mocking voice from behind her. A claw dug into her arm and spun her around, and Willow saw three vampires surrounding her. They shoved her into an alley, and the one who had called to her, a small, wiry man with a shaved head and an earring and a big grin, nodded to his two friends. They all looked like they were just out of college.

"She's a pretty one," he said. "Hey Marty, you like redheads. Isn't she pretty?" He shoved Willow again, and she tripped and fell backwards into a wall.

Marty was tall and lanky and he looked like a vacuum cleaner salesman. "Absolutely," he said, whistling appreciatively. "Nice cute face, good legs, and check out those tits too. I bet there's one hell of a rack under that sweater."

"You got us all excited," the first vampire said. He nodded toward the third vampire, an overweight man with slicked-back hair and sideburns that went all the way down to his chin. "Hey Jerry," he said. "This girl got you excited?"

Willow looked around. Behind her, the alley ended in a fence that was too high for her to climb. In front of her, there was no one else on the street…there was only the all-pervading darkness, closing in. She managed to find her stake at the bottom of her handbag, and held it in front of her.

Marty laughed, walked up to Willow, blocked her feeble attempt to stake him, and smacked her in the face. It sent her flying back into the wall again, and her handbag and her stake clattered to the ground. Marty kicked the stake away.

"Okay, so here's the thing," the first vampire said. "Oh, hey, I'm Alan. Sorry, didn't mean to be rude. Anyway, after you suck me off, Jerry gets to fuck you first. He's sort of a nerd. He doesn't get any. We try to help him out."

"Fucking little tease. This bitch needs a beat-down," Marty said, cracking his knuckles. "And I'm just the man to hand it out. You gotta know how to handle a woman, Jerry. A bitch will take your balls if you let her."

"Get down on your knees now, girl," Alan said, smiling at Willow. "And hey, no teeth, okay?"

"I said on your fuckin' knees!" Alan shouted, and backhanded Willow in the face. It bounced her off the wall and she fell to the ground, her nose bleeding.

"Witch, huh?" Alan said. "Cool. I hear they give great blowjobs. Hey, Jerry, is Little Jerry standing at attention? Get ready, man."

"Let's get to it hon," Alan said, and unzipped his pants, and grabbed Willow by the hair. The other two vampires unzipped their pants and grinned.

"I got a better idea," came another voice out of the darkness. The vampires all turned…

"Sweet Polly Purebread," Faith said, and smiled, showing the vampires her teeth. It had been awhile, since she'd dusted a vampire. She was restless.

"This isn't a great neighborhood to be hanging out in, Polly," Marty said, moving around to her side. "There are a lot of dangerous people out here."

"I'm selling girl scout cookies," Faith said. "Any of you guys wanna buy a box? How about you, fatso?" she said, grinning at Jerry. "You're a disgusting pig, you probably eat a lot of cookies."

Jerry snarled and ran at her. Faith stepped to her right, grabbed Jerry's arm, spun him around and twisted the arm up high behind him.

"Guess you're gonna die a virgin, fatso," she said, and pulled her stake from her coat pocket and staked him through the back. Marty tried to tackle her, but Faith dodged him, grabbed his arm and flipped him over her head. He flew into Alan and they both crashed into the garbage cans lining the wall.

"Oh, and by the way? I'm the Slayer," Faith said. "Girl scouts is just like a side thing."

"Dead?" Faith said. "Some day. Crazy? Could be. Bitch? Hell yeah. And do you kiss your Momma with that mouth, boy?"

Alan sprang at her. Faith planted her leg, whipped around and kicked him in the chest, sending him flying over Willow's head as Marty ran at her next. Faith grabbed Marty's arm and threw him head-first into a wall. As he struggled to stand she staked him without bothering to turn around.

"Hey, are you okay?" Faith said to Willow, and helped her up. She picked up Willow's handbag, and gave it to her.

"Um…um…yeah," Willow said. She was shaking, and she still had tears in her eyes. Faith took her hand. "It's gonna be okay," Faith said. "No one's gonna hurt you now." Willow nodded.

"Cool. Just gimme a sec here, okay?" Faith said, and stalked past her as Alan got back up.

Willow thought she knew Slayers. She was Buffy's best friend, and she had met Kendra too. But this girl was different. She seemed to enjoy it, to enjoy the killing, in a way Buffy never did…or would never admit she did. Faith had been smiling since the fight started and she was still smiling now.

"Cat got your tongue, boy?" Faith said, as Alan growled at her. "C'mon, aren't you gonna threaten me some more? Get me all scared?"

"Fuck you!" he shouted, and threw a garbage can at her. As Faith blocked it he tried to get past her.

"Right back at ya," Faith said, and punched him in the face as he ran past with a right cross that sent him spinning through the air like a top and crashing into a wall. He fell to the ground, and Faith stood over him, looking down into his eyes. Her smile was gone now.

He tried to stand, and Faith kicked him in the face. Teeth went flying out of his head as he fell sprawling to the ground again, coughing up blood.

He made one last stand, leaping at her again. He wouldn't have had a chance against Faith on his best day; now he was hurt and it made him slow. She backhanded him out of the air like she was swatting a fly.

"We're not done, boy," Faith said. "Not by a long shot." She picked him up and slammed him face-first into a wall, and held him there by the neck. She bent his left arm behind his back and broke it with a crack that echoed through the alley and made Willow shudder. The vampire screamed. Then Faith did the same thing to his right arm. He screamed again, and Faith let go of him, and he slid down the wall to the ground. He started to cry.

"Hey!" Faith shouted, and crouched down beside him and grabbed him by the throat.

"Don't you fucking cry!" she screamed at him, shoving her finger in his face. "Don't you fucking cry on me! You cry on me and I'll stomp those fucking tears right out of you." Faith got up, took a step back, and kicked the vampire in the head, roaring like a lion as she did; the kick sent the vampire flying down the alley like a football through a goalpost. He ricocheted off the back fence, landed on a dumpster, bounced off of it and fell to the ground.

Willow watched, entranced, as Faith stalked through the alley, ferocious, snarling, not hiding herself from her the way Buffy did, but naked in her rage, and completely revealed before her; this was what a Slayer was, Willow realized. What Buffy was, too…what Buffy had always been, but had never let her see. In her strength and her magnificent rage, Faith was majestic; she prowled that alley like it was hers, like an animal marking her territory and claiming everything and everyone in it for herself. Watching her was like staring straight into the sun.

Willow saw a lion, when she looked at Faith…she saw the hand of the Goddess revealed.

Faith wrenched a pipe from the wall and dragged the vampire back where Willow could see him. She stood over the vampire, holding the pipe in her hands.

She raised the pipe high above her head, and brought it down with devastating force across the vampire's knees. He shrieked, and Willow could hear his kneecaps break.

Faith held out her stake. "This guy took something from you, Willow," she said. "Want it back?"

Faith grabbed the vampire by the neck and smashed him into the wall, propping him up.

"Right there, Will," Faith said, pointing at the vampire's heart. "Straight through."

"So I guess you're Willow's bitch, huh, boy?" Faith said, smiling at the terrified vampire. "Funny how things work out, isn't it?"

She gave Faith the stake. She stood apart from Faith, looking away from her and hugging herself. Faith put her hand on her shoulder.

Willow nodded. "Um, thanks doesn't, um, really cover it?" she said. "But…thanks. You saved my life."

"Hey, no problem. Vamps were right about one thing, though. Not a real good neighborhood for a gal to be taking a stroll, y'know?"

"Uh-huh," Faith said. She looked closely at Willow's face. "Assholes roughed you up a little, huh? Your nose is bleeding, and you got a pretty good bruise on your cheek here. But you look okay other than that. Pinch your nose and hold your head forward to stop the bleeding. I'm gonna walk you home, okay?"
Willow did what Faith told her. "I thought you were supposed to hold your head back?" she said.

Willow nodded, took a tissue from her handbag, and wiped her nose. "Thanks for walking me home," Willow said. "It's…really nice of you."

"Sure," Faith said. They walked out of the alley and turned down the street. "You live around here?"

Willow giggled nervously. She was still shaky, and the thought of what would have happened to her if Faith hadn't been there made her feel panicky. She forced the thought down, buried it. She noticed Faith was watching her carefully. "That would be a big nope," she said. "I live on the non-crack house side of town. I just come out here occasionally when I'm feeling really dumb and reckless and I need stuff from the Magic Box."

"I can levitate pencils. And I restored someone's soul once…let's see…I can do like this thing where I can get inside a person's head and read their thoughts? I did a love spell, but that didn't work so well. Well, actually it worked a little too well and all the girls in town went all crazy jealous and almost killed one of my friends. I'm good with locator spells. Like, if you got lost somewhere? I could totally find you if I had something of yours." Willow remembered the body she had found when she accompanied Buffy on patrol a few weeks before. A girl, about her age, drained of blood. She had been left for dead in a park and her body was decomposing. Maggots were swarming over her.

"So are you from around here?" Willow said. She noticed that Faith was constantly glancing around, looking at all the boarded-up buildings and empty lots, as if she was memorizing the layout of the neighborhood, cataloguing all the places vampires could hide.

"Wow, that's pretty far. What brought you all the way out here?" Willow saw herself dead in that alley, drained of blood…lying naked by the garbage cans, with maggots swarming over her. She felt something in her stomach…like a twinge of nausea.

"I'm looking for someone," Faith said. "Y'know, most people get all freaked out when they see what I can do. But you're all kinda relaxed about it."

"What, you mean, how you're a Slayer?" Willow said. "I guess it would freak some people out, but me, not likely. My best friend's a Slayer."

"Um…well…I think she's on patrol tonight. I think she wanted to do the cemeteries on the east side this week. She said she did the west side last week…"

"Okay, I'm new here and I got no idea where anything is. How far to all the cemeteries?"

"A few miles, but there are kinda a lot of them. We're sorta cemetery central here. There are six on the east side." Willow remembered the look on the vampire's face, when he grabbed her by the hair. The vampire knew he could make her do what he told her to do. She thought about what they would have done to her, and how she would have been powerless to stop them. The feeling had moved up from her stomach now, into her chest. It felt like a steadily increasing pressure. She tried to block the thoughts again, to bury them, but she couldn't.

She thought about the things Angelus had said to her in her mother's car the previous spring. His voice was gentle, but his hands were cold and there was nothing, not one single thing, in his eyes. She thought about small, dark spaces. She thought about being locked in.

"A cell phone? No…no, she…but…now that you mention it, she probably should…" Willow stuttered.

"Okay, come on," Faith said, still keeping a watchful eye on Willow as she looked around. There was no one on the street. She broke the window of the nearest car, an old Chrysler LeBaron, with her fist.

Faith got in, smashed the car's key mechanism and hotwired it. "Hop in," she said, as the car started.

"Look," Faith said. "I'm a good girl, I don't steal cars. But I gotta find Buffy fast. There's a big bad vamp on my trail and his hobby is killing Slayers. He came after me in Boston and he said he's coming after Buffy next. Buffy needs to be warned. So can you maybe help me out here, Will?"

The thought that Buffy might be in danger was all it took. Willow got in the car. "Head straight up this street all the way to the second set of lights, then take a right," she said.

"Gotcha," Faith said, and pulled away from the curb. She watched Willow out of the corner of her eye. Willow was trying to hide her hands. They were shaking. Faith remembered what it was like to be scared; she had been scared in the Prudential building, heading up in the elevator after Kakistos kicked her out the window. She had been scared when the vampires almost killed Evan.

But when Faith watched Rebecca die…when she watched Evan walk away…she felt that cold thing in her stomach, and knew she would never be afraid again. She simply had nothing left to lose.

Faith put her hand on Willow's shoulder, and smiled. "Rough night, huh?" she said. "But it's all over now, and those guys are dust. You're runnin' with a Slayer now, Will, you're safe as houses. Uh, not that I ever really understood what that means? But no one can hurt you while I'm around. Okay, Will?"

Willow nodded, and forced a small smile. The car felt confined and closed in now…like a closet. "You're really good at hotwiring cars," she said, just to be saying something. The image was stuck in her head now, and she couldn't get it out. She was naked, and he was on top of her. He was beating her, and forcing himself into her, and the other two were laughing and waiting their turn…

"Had a troubled childhood," Faith said with a grin. She kept her hand on Willow's shoulder as she drove. "But I'm a whole new girl these days, promise."

Willow couldn't move. There was no room in the car and she couldn't escape and in the alley she couldn't make him stop. No matter how hard she tried she couldn't get the image out of her head. She couldn't make him stop…

Willow felt Faith's hand on her shoulder. She could feel the strength in it, the same strength she always felt in Buffy.

She clutched at Faith's hand like a lifeline. She thought if she let go she'd be lost; she'd never find herself again.

"It's okay, Will," Faith said, and turned toward her. "I'm right here, I'm not going anywhere."

Willow's whole body shook now, and she held onto Faith's hand with all the strength she had, until finally she collapsed into Faith's arms, and cried.

"I saved you," Faith whispered, as the tears rolled down her cheeks. "I saved you."

Buffy stalked through the cemetery, all her senses reaching out. She was in her work clothes: a miniskirt, halter top, and a pair of big platform boots that were good and broken in for running. The night was silent. The only sound was the wind, rustling through the trees. Buffy made no noise whatsoever; she moved from shadow to shadow like a cat with footsteps so light and cunning they couldn't be heard. The smell of freshly-mown grass, and, faintly, pipe smoke, came to her as she sniffed the air, searching for the scent of her prey. An owl watched her, concealed high up among the leaves of a tall redwood tree behind her, staring down at her with bright, unblinking eyes. Buffy knew it was there.

She already knew there were vampires somewhere in this cemetery; she smelled them. She knew they were close. All that remained now was the game, the fun of tracking them. Sometimes she'd let a vampire run a little ahead of her, just so she could catch it and pounce, the way a wily old cat played with a mouse.

A moment later, she heard them. Two men, talking. She crouched behind a tombstone. As the moon peeked through the trees ahead of her, she saw them.

They looked older than most vampires she had fought; they appeared well into their forties. For whatever reason, most of the vampires in Sunnydale looked no older than thirty. They were sitting on tombstones in a little moonlit clearing, and arguing, apparently about the situation in Bosnia. One of them smoked a pipe, which Buffy thought was a real achievement for someone who didn't breathe.

"Interestinger and interestinger," Buffy said softly, and listened. She had a test to study for, but these two vampires made her curious: she had never seen anything like them. She let the two mice squeak, and run ahead for awhile…and she bided her time, waiting for just the right moment to pounce…

Gradually, the image went away, and Willow's panic subsided. Gradually, she stopped crying. The shaky feeling had gone and the pressure in her chest and lungs was gone now too. She didn't feel trapped anymore. She held on to Faith, curled into a ball with her head against Faith's chest, and she felt protected. Faith held her, and watched the street silently. Willow could feel Faith's heart beating against her cheek, strong and steady.

Willow didn't have to be in the alley with the vampires; she knew that now. They couldn't make her do things; they had no power over her. They were only memories, shadows. Faith had killed them. They couldn't hurt her anymore.

Willow sat up and wiped her eyes. "Just…I'm just being a stupid crybaby," she said. "I'm acting like a stupid scared little girl when we need to warn Buffy. Come on, let's go. She needs us."

"Everyone gets scared, Will," Faith said, and rubbed Willow's shoulder as she got the car back on the road. "No shame in it."

"You might not actually exist, that's all I'm saying," one of the vampires, a short, nerdy-looking man with glasses and a bald spot, said. But he was still scary in his way: he was wearing a beige Members Only jacket that made Buffy shudder. "You might not exist in nature, but only in my perception of it."

"I can't believe you're on about this again," the other one said. He was a tall man with a pot belly and a bushy beard, wearing an Irish sweater and smoking a pipe. "This is all because you can't cast a reflection anymore, isn't it? The world is what it is. Of course you have to trust your perceptions. If you don't then everything is thrown into chaos, then there's no point to anything."

"Perhaps I'm not arguing with you. Perhaps I'm perceiving an argument which isn't, in fact, happening. Or perhaps I'm the one who doesn't exist, and you're merely perceiving –"

"I'm perceiving that you are a complete and utter nincompoop," Irish Sweater said.

"Yes, and once again, your penetrating insights win the day," Members Only said. "I stand humbled before your rapier wit."

"Oh for God's sake. Fine. You want an argument, here's one. Why bother living when you can't even trust that the world as you perceive it today will still be there in the morning? Why not just stake yourself and be done with it? Because you know that you can trust your perceptions, and you do. This is the world we're stuck with, and we can't escape it. Might as well settle back and make the best of it, I say. You're just bored. You're on this idealist kick now; next week you'll probably be a materialist. The problem with you is, you're always looking for a point to living, some great purpose behind it. But there is no point, there is no purpose. We're here, the world is here, and we simply have to live in it."

"And I feel obliged, once again, to point out that we're not, in actual point of fact, alive."

"A technicality. We may no longer have our souls, but to all outward appearances, by every measure that matters, we're still living, breathing –"

"Yeah, well, I wouldn't make any long-term plans if I were you," Buffy said, sitting on a tombstone right behind them now. The vampires turned and growled softly at her. "And by the way? You guys are like, the most boring vampires ever. You're PBS boring. If there was a movie about you it would be like, one of those independent dealies with subtitles, and everyone's from France? And there wouldn't even be one car chase or any explosions at all. No one wants to see that movie. Plus, free fashion tip? Sweaters and Members Only jackets and pipes? Not really screaming evil undead creature of the night. Try black leather trenchcoats, maybe a few silk shirts. And would it kill ya to use some hair gel?"

"This really isn't a good place for a young girl to be wandering around so late at night, my dear," Irish Sweater said, in what he probably thought was a threatening tone. Buffy smiled politely.

"If she was my daughter she'd be grounded," Members Only said, adjusting his glasses to get a better look at her.

"So you believe she exists now, do you?" Irish Sweater said. "Wonderful. Let's have a parade. Did you hear that, young lady? He's decided you exist. You can relax now."

"Oh, be quiet," Members Only said, and turned back to Buffy. "How old are you? Do your parents know you're here?" he said.

"What if her parents don't exist?" Irish Sweater muttered. "Won't your face be red."

"The girl can't be out of high school," Irish Sweater said, looking closely at Buffy. "Children these days. No discipline at all."

"It's the parents' fault," Members Only said, and shook his head disappointedly at Buffy. "They park them in front of the television all day and wonder why they grow up without any sense of responsibility."

"Not to mention all the violent videogames they let them play," Irish Sweater said. "And the music videos? The girls all learn to dress like harlots and sashay around like Playboy centerfolds. Just look at that skirt she's wearing!"

"Hey!" Buffy said. "There's nothing wrong with my skirt! What's wrong with my skirt?"

"Earth to old guys?" Buffy said. "Your day was a hundred years ago. Now it's my day. So let's try this again. Hi. I'm the Slayer, maybe you've heard of me? The thing is, I have a history test Monday and I really need to study, so how about we skip the bonus round and go right to Final Jeopardy." She pulled her stake from her boot. "Remember, your answers must be in the form of a question."

"Yup, and now it's time for you to meet Mr. Pointy," Buffy said. "Sorry, I'm usually more quippy, but unless you guys know about Constantinople you're getting the economy package tonight."

"We're professors in the philosophy department of UC Sunnydale," Members Only said. "Or at least we were, until a puerile young vampiress and her group of asinine thugs turned us."

"Okay, three things," Buffy said. "First, why would a vampire want to turn – um, no offense – a couple of old philosophy professors? Second, what does 'puerile' mean, and third, please stop saying words like 'puerile'."

"'Puerile' describes behavior that is obnoxiously immature or adolescent," Irish Sweater said. "She turned us because Henry failed her on her Intro to Ethical Theory final when she was human."

"She dropped out not long afterwards," Henry said. "And that led, through a tortuous chain of –"

" – And that led," Henry continued, "through a complicated series of events, which she recounted to us in excruciatingly –" He looked at Buffy. She nodded. He continued. " – In excruciatingly complete detail, to Sunday becoming a vampire. So because she blamed me for her unlife, she decided to turn me in order to be revenged upon me. And Randall here happened to be engaged in a heated discussion with me at the time, and Sunday turned him too."

"We stay out of sight," Randall said. "We get animal blood from the butcher shops and bring it back here."

"And we have some books, and a chessboard," Henry said. "It's a rather wretched existence, but it's tolerable."

"Why bother with animal blood?" Buffy said. "Having trouble chasing after all those pesky victims in your old age?"

"If you're implying that we would kill an innocent person to satisfy our hunger I must say I'm insulted," Randall said.

"Never?" Buffy said. "C'mon, vamps love eating people. I have it on very good authority that people are yummy."

"Perhaps so, but nevertheless, we will abstain," Henry said. "Our blood comes from the butcher shop."

"You're telling me you've never eaten anyone," Buffy said. "Never attacked even one person."

"That vampire," Willow said, watching the dark, oddly threatening trees rush by in the wind. They were driving down the back roads, and the moon was the only light; the car's headlights carved out a fragile, tenuous path through the nearly absolute darkness of Sunnydale's night, like a rope-bridge over a bottomless chasm. "What if he's here now? What if he finds Buffy before we do?" They had already tried two cemeteries and had found no sign of Buffy yet.

"He'll be looking for me first," Faith said. "Trust me, he wants me a lot more than he wants her."

The wind picked up, and blew Faith's hair around. "Damn. Think I'm having a bad hair day," she said.

"Got confirmation the whole windblown look's not working for me, huh?" Faith said with a grin, and blew a stray strand of long brown hair out of her eyes.

"Thanks," Faith said, and took the brush and fixed her hair, and handed it back to her. "You guys got some pretty weird weather around here. Kinda like summer and fall all rolled into one. It's warm, but then the wind starts blowing like a bastard and it suddenly gets cold."

"I know. I've always thought it was because of the Hellmouth. You know about the Hellmouth?"

"Yeah, I got the cliff notes. It's like an entrance to a hell dimension or whatever and Sunnydale's built right on top of it. So you guys got bad weirdness coming to town every once in awhile."

"Yeah. And Sunnydale always has a lot of stray magic in the air because of it too. It affects everything. So we don't just get vampires, we get giant snakes and hyena kids and people building robots in their basements."

"Sounds like a party. Guess it's lucky for me I've got a witch on my side," Faith said.

"Okay, so then the Automotive Empire sacked the place on…wait, wait, I know this…May 29th, 1453…" Buffy said, sitting on a tombstone and furrowing her brow at Randall and Henry.

"Right. They sacked Constantinople because they were Muslims and they were being all empirey and they didn't like Christianity, right?" Buffy said.

"'Empirey' isn't a word. But essentially, yes, that's what happened," Randall said.

Buffy suddenly felt strange. Her whole body was tingling, like it was charged with electricity…

Faith suddenly felt strange. Her whole body was tingling, like it was charged with electricity. For a moment she didn't know what she was feeling… and then, instinctively, she understood.

"And then the Ottoman Empire went on to become the only serious threat to Western European dominance over the next few centuries," Randall said.

Buffy stood up and looked around. She knew someone was coming. And it wasn't a vampire.

As the tingling feeling got stronger, Buffy remembered that she had felt it once before. She had felt it the first time she met Kendra.

"And the partitioning of the Empire created the modern Arab world we take for granted…" Henry said.

Buffy could sense two people moving toward her. She knew they weren't a threat. If they were she would already be crouched, prepared to fight. Instead she stood there, waiting, peering into the trees by the light of the moon.

"…And all of its attendant problems," Randall said. They were both ignoring Buffy and talking animatedly to each other. "The Arab world's animosity toward Israel has vexed us for decades now, and that isn't even taking into account the tensions between the Sunni and the Shiites…"

"Or the complexities of the Palestinian situation," Henry said. "And then of course there's the danger of America's dependence on foreign oil…"

"That's blown out of proportion," Randall said. "Within a few decades we'll be using hydrogen, or perhaps even cold fusion. Oil will be a headache for awhile longer, but an eminently manageable one."

"This way," Faith said, marching through the cemetery. Willow had to run to keep up with her. "She's right…"

The moon slipped behind the trees. Two predators stood in the darkness, and faced each other.

"Buffy, you and me need to talk," Faith said. "There's all kinds of badness on the way and we…wait a minute." She cocked her head. To Willow, she seemed to be concentrating intently on something. But Buffy knew she was reaching out with all her senses…the way only a Slayer could.

"There are vamps here," Faith said, and pulled out her stake, and marched past Buffy.

"Fine, and yourself?" Buffy said, catching up with her. "The last Slayer was polite enough to say hello at least."

"Faith," Faith said. "Sorry. After I dust these vamps we'll have some girl talk, promise."

"Faith, look," Buffy said, heading her off. "Yeah, there are a couple of vamps here, but they –"

"Wait!" Buffy said, and grabbed her arm, just as Randall and Henry came into view. She could hear Henry babbling something about the separation of powers in the Constitution.

"My problem is that if you'd just stay still and listen to me for a frigging second, maybe I could explain what my problem is! This is my town. Did it occur to you that maybe I know how things work here and you don't?"

"Buffy, look. I've heard about you, y'know? I've heard stories about what you've done, how you've saved the world, all that stuff. And seriously, I gotta give you mad props. And I know this is your town, I'm not tryin' to step on your toes out here or anything. But the thing is? Those are two vamps over there, and I'm a Slayer. So I'm thinkin', hey, here's a crazy idea, maybe I should just go over there and, oh, I don't know, stake 'em."

Willow had never seen Buffy like this before. She didn't understand it. The way Buffy was looking at Faith, her body language, the tone she was taking…it was as if Buffy had decided she didn't like Faith even before Faith had started talking. "Buffy," Willow said. "How about we all just, y'know, like take a breath and relax and…?"

"They're not like regular vampires, okay?" Buffy said to Faith, like a bored teacher lecturing a recalcitrant student. She ignored Willow completely. "They don't want to hurt anyone. They said they've never attacked anyone before. They drink animal blood."

"Uh-huh," Faith said. "And since vampires are such stand-up guys, you believed them."

"Look, they're nice guys, alright?" Buffy said. "They're like these nice old college professors, and we talked and they even helped me out with my homework and…"

"They helped you with your homework?" Faith said, laughing. "You're kidding me, right?" She looked at Willow. "Hey Will, tell me she's kidding. Tell me you guys are just having some fun with the new girl."

"Um…" Willow said, growing progressively more worried. She didn't know Faith, but she knew Buffy, and she could see that she was getting angry.

Buffy's hands were clenched into fists. She took a deep breath. "Look," she said. "I know this sounds stupid. But I've been a Slayer a lot longer than you, and one thing you need to learn in a hurry is that things aren't always black and white. Not all vamps are the same. These guys are philosophy professors, and they swore they've never hurt anybody, and they're really nice and they –"

"You know what?" Faith said, and laughed again. "I always figured things would be a little different in Cali, y'know? Maybe a more laid back vibe, maybe you guys all say 'groovy' or smoke dope or whatever. Gotta tell ya though, I never thought it would be this different. But right now I don't even give a shit. You've been a Slayer what, a couple years now? After all the butt you've kicked, maybe you're starting to forget how this works. So let me bring you up to speed, B. Those guys are vamps, I'm gonna dust 'em, end of discussion. Easy as one-two-three. Comprende?"

Faith turned away, and walked straight toward Randall and Henry, who were too engrossed in their argument to notice.

"Faith!" Buffy hissed, and caught up to her and grabbed her by the arm again. Faith whirled around, her control starting to slip; she was showing Buffy her teeth now.

"Inquiring minds want to know, Will," Faith said. "I think your friend maybe needs to check her dictionary. Look up Slayer under 'S' and vamp under 'V' and get her head on straight. Know what it says under 'V'? It says vampires are demons. Even the ones that help you with your homework."

Faith smiled again now, without warmth. "And y'know what?" she said. "I've been polite, I've tried to be cool. I mean, you're Buffy Summers, y'know? So I'm tryin' to be all West Coast, all laid back and mellow. I'm tryin', honey, I really am. So I'm gonna ask you once, okay? I'll even ask nicely. Let go of my arm. Pretty please."

"Some are what?!" Faith shouted. "Cuddly and nice? Or maybe they had a tough life and you feel bad for them?" She thought of Emily, lying on the floor of the arcade at Salem Willows, crying.

Then Faith thought of Rebecca, lying on the floor of the restaurant in the Prudential building, dead. And she felt the cold thing in her stomach.

Faith moved very close to Buffy, and looked her in the eyes. Buffy's scent came to her…she smelled pretty, like flowers. Faith smiled.

"The whole thing is a transparent attempt by the Republican party to hijack the government. It's a shameless power grab!" Henry was shouting.

"You don't know your ass from your elbow!" Randall shouted back. "Clinton's behavior is an embarrassment to –"

A piercing whistle cut through the air, ending their discussion. They turned, and saw Faith standing at the edge of the clearing.

Randall and Henry stood up and stared at her. Faith strolled into the clearing, twirling her stake in her hand.

"So, philosophy professors, huh?" Faith said. "I read some philosophy. Friend of mine lent me some books. She's dead now. Vamp killed her."

Buffy knew what the look meant. It was a line in the sand. She could cross it, or not. Faith was leaving it up to her.

Faith turned back to Randall and Henry. Her smile got even bigger as they moved around her, positioning themselves for a fight. "Bet you guys know Nietzsche, right?" she said. "I thought some of those philosophy guys my friend had me read were sorta full of shit a little, but Nietzsche was pretty interesting."

"That was a minor point of his writings, and merely a consequence of the time he lived in. People make more of that than they should," Randall said.

"I just figured he wasn't getting any," Faith said. "He was a grumpy old bastard but he understood about power, y'know? 'Cuz in the end? It's all about power. Guy told it like it is. I was all like, you go, Frederick! Well, except the women being like cows stuff. But then he never met me. Better believe I would've changed his mind."

"Supergirl," Faith snarled, and leaped straight at Henry and staked him before he could move. "Henry!" Randall screamed, as Henry turned to dust in front of him. He lashed out at Faith with his claws, but Faith was much too fast for him; she dodged him with ease and he missed by a mile.

"Faith!" Buffy shouted, as Faith spun and staked Randall through the back. He turned to dust, and the dust drifted slowly to the grass, and he was gone.

Faith had thought she would find a friend here. Someone, maybe the only person in the world, who could understand her.

In the moment Buffy had realized what that tingling sensation meant, she had rejoiced. She always knew someone else would be called after Kendra died… and now she was here, and she had thought they would be allies…

Instead, they watched each other warily, each wondering whether she had just made a new enemy.

The breeze had grown cold. Willow hugged herself, and waited. Buffy and Faith watched each other.

"Came out to give you a heads up," she said. "There's a vamp named Kakistos, I tangled with him in Boston. He kills Slayers, he killed Madeleine Lambert, the Slayer before you. Now he's after me. And he said after he gets me you're next on his list."

"He's one tough son of a bitch is what happened," Faith said. "Guy hit me once and my whole arm went numb. He runs with this black vamp named Trick. Trick dresses snazzy and talks real good, and he doesn't like to get his hands dirty. But Kakistos has a posse with him to handle that. Besides Trick, he had eighteen vamps with him when he came after me."

"Yeah. They'd been tracking me for awhile and they finally came at me in a restaurant. Killed everyone there. I managed to get through his goons but Kakistos is on a whole other level of bad. Then the next day his guys were back at it, tailing me through the streets. They use cars with blacked-out windows during the day, and they've got guns. They shot the hell out of a pizza place I was in, and that was a bunch more dead people. Worst part is, not only is Kakistos the strongest vamp I've ever seen but I staked him and nothing happened. Plus he tossed me out a frigging skyscraper and I fell about fifty stories."

"Been awhile since I've seen okay," Faith said. "I'll be okay once I dust the bastard."

"Wait a minute," Buffy said. "You staked him and nothing happened? Sure you didn't miss the heart?"

"I know my way around a stake, B," Faith said. "I stuck him good. All it did was piss him off."

"I can't believe you fell fifty stories," Willow said, and touched Faith's shoulder. "Are you sure you're okay?"

Buffy watched Faith, as Willow touched her shoulder. Buffy thought Faith's scent was pretty: fruity, with a hint of muskiness underneath.

"Body's five by five now," Faith said. "But I'm still trying to wrap my head around how I'm alive. Slayer or not, I can't figure how I survived that fall. Got lucky, I guess."

"Maybe someone was watching over you," Willow said, and smiled. "The way someone was watching over me tonight."

The moon peeked out from behind the trees, illuminating the clearing with soft, silver light. Buffy suddenly noticed a big bruise on Willow's cheek.

"Will…your face is bruised," Buffy said. She ran to Willow, and stood between her and Faith. She took Willow's hand. "Did something happen to you?"

"I ran into some vampires near the Magic Box," Willow said. "I was lucky Faith was there. Actually, it wasn't luck. The Goddess was watching over me."

"Witch. Remember?" Willow said to Faith. "I prayed to Holy Mother to save me, and then a few seconds later, you were there."

"Cool," Faith said. "Never been an answer to someone's prayer before."
"You're a Slayer, Faith," Willow said. "You've been the answer to a lot of people's prayers."

"The Magic Box?!" Buffy shouted. "What did I tell you about going to that neighborhood alone at night? You could have been killed! Why didn't you call me?!"

"I was…in the middle of a spell, and, um, I needed stuff," Willow said. "Okay, yup, one of my dumber moves. Guess I went blonde for a second there."

"I mean…not that you're not smart! You're the smartest blonde I know!" Willow added hastily.

Faith chuckled. Buffy felt her cheeks becoming red. She tried to hide it. She turned away.

"Hey…Buffy…" Willow said, and took her hand. "We're not making fun of you. I'm sorry, okay? I'm just being goofy." Willow had no idea why Buffy was so prickly, why she seemed so angry and embarrassed at the same time. It wasn't like her.

She didn't think it was just Faith. She thought it must be something else. She just didn't know what…

Buffy nodded, still not looking at Willow. She knew her face was still red and she couldn't let Willow see it. She walked away from them, further back into the shadows, before she turned and looked at them again. Buffy knew Willow and Faith must have been in close physical contact for a good long time for Faith's scent to be so strong on Willow. Willow must have let Faith touch her.

As Buffy let her senses reach out and concentrated on her nose, she realized that Willow's scent was even stronger on Faith than Faith's scent was on Willow. And she knew then that Willow must have touched Faith too. An image came into her mind, of Willow letting Faith kiss her. She felt tense again. Faith was looking at her. Willow and Faith were standing close to each other. Buffy dismissed the image, and tried to relax. "So I believe you were telling us how you got kicked off a skyscraper?" Buffy said. "And how, lucky us, you miraculously survived."

"I don't know how I survived," Faith said. "But I know why. I survived because I'm gonna dust that motherfucker."

"Considering how he likes to travel around with a bunch of vamp groupies, we should put our heads together on this," Buffy said.

"Forget it," Faith said, and started to walk away. Willow, she liked. But there was no way she could work with Buffy. It would be better like this. What Kakistos had coming to him, Faith wanted to be the one to deliver. "I can handle it solo. Just wanted to give you a heads up. Take it easy."

"Faith, wait," Willow said. "Don't you think it would be better if we all worked together on this? Kakistos sounds really dangerous."

"It's cool, Will," Faith said. "I got it. Like I said, he wants me a lot more than he wants Buffy."

"And what's your plan when he finds you?" Buffy said. "Get tossed off another building?"

"Stake didn't work, so I figure I'll cut his head off," Faith said. "Already cut his dick off anyway."

"You cut his…?" Buffy said. "Okay, eewww much?"
"He pissed me off," Faith said. "Anyway, see ya."

"Faith, as much as it pains me to say it, we need to go after this guy together," Buffy said.

"Told you I got it covered," Faith said, and turned her back to her, and kept walking.

"Faith, I don't like this any more than you do," Buffy said. "But look, let's just think about this? We've got a vamp who's super-strong. And he likes traveling with a whole bunch more vamps. And he can't be staked. And he's cranky because you went all Lorena Bobbitt on his ass. He killed at least one Slayer already and he almost killed you."
"I can handle him," Faith said.

"Sure. Just like you handled him in Boston. I bet your face really made his fist sore. Faith, think! There's more at stake here than your pride! You said he attacked you in a restaurant, that he killed people to get to you, and he's got guns. This guy sounds like he's way into collateral damage and killing innocent people and it's our job to prevent that."

"And you're way into hearing yourself talk, huh, B? But the speeches are starting to bore me now. Said I can handle this and I'll handle it," Faith said, and brushed past her.

"That's right, F," Buffy said. "You keep running, just like you did in Boston. Way to handle it."

"You've been giving me shit all night," Faith said, marching back at her. "You got a crush on me or something? Some reason you can't just get the hint and leave me the fuck alone?"

"Is there some reason you can't use your frigging brain? How many people did this guy kill out in Boston while you employed your brilliant strategy of taking off? How many more people will he kill out here once he tracks you down? And you're too arrogant and stupid to understand –"

"Buffy…!" Willow said. She grabbed Buffy's arm. Buffy wrenched herself free of her.

"You're too stupid to understand that this is way, way bigger than your little revenge fantasy!" Buffy shouted. She felt her anger flaring now, and a voice inside her head told her she should stop, that she should calm down. But this girl got under her skin. The image came into her mind again…Willow was letting Faith kiss her. "You think I'm gonna let some super-vamp and his pals shoot up my town and kill my friends because some new Slayer wannabe thinks she can handle it?! I cut his dick off, wow look at me, I'm so tough, I'm so cool! Do you even care about the people who died out in Boston? All because of you?!"

Faith was shaking with anger. Her hands were balled into fists. Her whole body felt hot.

"And where the hell is your Watcher during all this anyway?" Buffy said. "Or did your Watcher decide to just take off too?"

"Cat got your tongue, F?" Buffy said. "You do have a Watcher, right? Or is that something else you're screwing up? Not that your Watcher's done such a bang-up job."

Willow ran after Faith. Faith moved quickly, but Willow finally caught up to her, in the shadows beneath a stand of redwood trees.

"Faith!" Willow said, and touched her shoulder. "I'm…I'm sorry. Buffy's usually really nice." Faith was hiding her face from her. Willow moved around in front of her. "You two just got off on the wrong…"

The moon appeared through the branches of the tree above them, illuminating everything around them in soft, gentle silver. Faith moved away from the light, into the shadows beyond its reach.

"Tell Buffy not to forget the cars with blacked-out windows," Faith said. "He can find us in the day too. And you be careful Will, okay? Try to stay inside."

Willow found Buffy waiting for her back in the clearing. It still smelled like pipe smoke.

Willow looked at Buffy without saying a word. Then she looked away and said, "Let's go home."

"So now you're gonna be moody at me too?" Buffy finally said. "Maybe some of Faith is rubbing off." Willow heard something ugly in Buffy's voice.

"You were mean!" Willow screamed, whirling around. "Faith saved my life tonight and came all the way out here from Boston just to warn you about Kakistos and all you could do was call her stupid!"

Buffy had never seen Willow like this before. She stepped back, taken completely by surprise.

"It was mean and not nice and totally not fair and you should be ashamed of yourself!" Willow screamed.

"I should…I should be ashamed?" Buffy stuttered. "What about Faith? She just…just comes in and…and comes and kills two vampires that I –"

"A Slayer!" Willow shouted. "Killing two vampires! What on earth was she thinking? Quick, let's get the torches and run her out of town!"

"But they were…! I mean they weren't…! Look, she could've at least listened to me before she just…!" In her head, Buffy's reasons were good ones. But when she spoke them out loud they all got jumbled…she heard the jealousy in her voice. No matter how hard she tried she couldn't keep it out of her voice.

"Buffy! You told a Slayer you didn't want to kill two vampires because they helped you with your homework! What did you expect Faith to think? If I didn't know you I would've thought you were crazy too!"

"It's not as simple as that! They didn't want to hurt anyone! I could tell! We could've just let them go and everything would've been…"

"Like how you let Spike go? Or like how you dated the worst serial killer in history and then wondered why he suddenly went bad and tried to murder us all?! News flash! Vampires are demons! You're the Slayer, you know that! The three vampires Faith saved me from? They were gonna gang-rape me!"

"They…? Buffy said, and her face went white. "Oh my God…oh my God!" She hugged Willow, and Willow felt the old, familiar strength in her. "Are you okay, baby? Are you okay?"

Willow pulled away, her eyes filling with tears. "What did you expect? They were vampires! Demons! That's what vampires do! They hurt people! That's what Angel did too, even though it didn't stop you from dating him!"

"And I stuck a sword though his heart! Does that meet with your approval? What the hell do you want from me? You want me to hop in a time machine and go back and kill Angel again? Would that –"

"I KNOW!" Willow screamed, crying now. "I know Angel's alive! I know you've been seeing him every day before school and bringing him blood! All this time you've been LYING RIGHT TO MY FACE AND I KNOW!"

"You must be Buffy Summers," he said, smiling. He was wearing a black suit that fit him like it was custom made, with a lavender shirt and a lavender handkerchief in the suit's breast pocket. His black shoes gleamed. "Wearing a miniskirt out slaying? Now that's a bold fashion statement."

Buffy didn't know who he was, but she knew he was trouble. She put aside her guilt toward Willow, her resentment of Faith, her agonizing over Angel. It was all baggage now and it weighed her down; she needed to be light and quick and ready for fighting. She put it all aside, and let the Slayer in her take over. It was like flipping a switch. Instantly, she felt better.

She let her senses reach out. The cemetery was her territory. All of its sights and sounds and smells were as familiar to her as her own bedroom. Others had dared to invade her territory now, and she would defend it; it was as simple as that. The vampires didn't belong. Their scents were foul.

Relieved of the burden of her humanity, Buffy smiled, and showed the vampires her teeth. In that moment, she was as happy as she had ever been.

"Everyone's giving me crap about my skirt tonight," Buffy said, standing in front of Willow. "Got a name?"

"Call me Mr. Trick," Trick said, and took a cell phone from his suit pocket. Willow gasped at the mention of his name. Buffy glanced at her. Willow knew exactly what the look meant.

"Blue Hills," Trick said into the phone, as the vampires with him watched Buffy. "Got us a Slayer here." He paused. "Naw, the other one. But I'm sure she'll be delighted to meet you." He put the phone away, and grinned at Buffy.

"I'm an East Coast kind of guy," Trick said, chuckling. "Y'all are a sight too casual out here for my taste. I mean, guys wear shoes without socks out here. It's mind-boggling."

"So let me guess," Buffy said. "That was your mom, and she's inviting me over for dinner."

"Cute," Trick said. "I get it. You're the cute Slayer. You're the sugar, Faith's the spice. You two should have an act. By the way, just making conversation here…you wouldn't happen to know where Faith is, would you?"

"First I'd have to know who she is," Buffy said. "Unless you mean that new Slayer out in Boston I heard about?"

"That's the girl. About 5'5", dark hair. With a rather exuberant sense of style. Flashy, if you know what I mean. Maybe a little on the reckless side." He smiled, baring his fangs. "In fact, some might even go so far as to call her rude."

"Sorry, the annual Slayer cookout isn't until next summer. We're supposed to be partnering up in the three-legged sack race. As far as I know she's in Boston somewhere."

"Uh-huh," Trick said, looking carefully at her. "You're a pretty good liar, if you're lying."

"Yup, and I'm pretty good with a stake too, and you'll be finding that out in a minute," Buffy said. "But if I knew where she was, why would I tell you?"

"Because I'm asking so politely. Because you enjoy our witty badinage. Next person who asks, well…let's just say he won't be asking so polite."

Buffy ran at the nearest vampire, knowing the other five would be right behind her. As she reached him she ducked, anticipating his move. He slashed at her, his claws slicing over her head, putting him out of position. She staked him, spun to her left, staked one of the vampires coming at her from behind and punched another one in the face, sending him flying.

She backflipped away from the others, jumped up to grab a tree branch and swung forward and kicked them as they ran at her. She held onto the branch in a chin-up and she had a second to look around. Trick was staying out of the fight, just like Faith said he would. Willow had run off into the trees. Willow had been accompanying Buffy on patrol for a long time now, and Buffy had given her some ground rules. Rule number one was, when it got bad, Willow ran.

Buffy dropped from the tree branch, spun, and kicked the closest vampire in the face. He went flying the length of the clearing, and the other three came at her. She saw Trick checking his watch.

Buffy rolled backwards to the ground, flipping one of the vampires over her head with her legs, rolled to her side, kicked another in the face, leaped up, and staked the third. The other one came at her from behind, and she spun and kicked him again. He didn't appreciate it, and snarled as he went flying across the clearing again and collided head-first with a tree. The other two ran back at her, but instead of dodging she took them by surprise and ran straight at them. At the last second she dropped to the ground in front of them, ducking both of their attacks, staked one of them, stood up again, grabbed the other one by the hair and kneed him in the face. He went down and she staked him too. She looked around the clearing. The last vampire was lying unconscious near a tree.

"Bring any more badinage, Tricky?" Buffy said, as she walked over to the last vampire and staked him.

When Buffy woke up, her shoulder hurt and she was lying on the grass with her head in Willow's lap. Willow was holding her hand.

Willow looked scared. When Buffy looked around, she saw why. Trick was standing over her, holding the gun down at his side. Eight more vampires stood around him, growling. "She's up," Trick said.

"Hello, Slayer," a voice said. The voice sounded like a shotgun. It also sounded rather pleased with itself. "I'm Kakistos."

The vampire who owned the voice went well with it. He stepped into the light and sneered down at Buffy, towering over her. He was bald and very tall and very wide. He had cloven hooves for hands and feet. One of his eyes was gone; in its place was a long, jagged, horizontal scar.

Buffy gasped, and black spots swam before her eyes. She punched Kakistos in the face as hard as she could. He smiled.

"She can't breathe!" Willow screamed, grabbing Kakistos' cloven hand and trying to pull it away from Buffy's throat. "She can't breathe!"

"Stop it!" Willow screamed, and scratched at Kakistos' face. He smacked her away and sent her flying.

Kakistos relaxed his grip. "Since she asked so nicely," he said. Buffy coughed, and sucked in air. The spots were still floating in front of her eyes. Shooting pain was traveling up her shoulder.

"I didn't aim for the heart because I was hoping you'd work with us on this," Trick said. "We got no reason to kill you. We don't want you. We want Faith. Be smart, girl. Tell us where she is, and we'll let you and your friend go."

She chopped the gun out of Trick's hand, rolled away from Kakistos and flipped herself to her feet. She punched a vampire in the face as they came at her, and somersaulted away from the rest. She had to find that gun. Out of the corner of her eye she saw it lying in the grass. In the confusion Trick seemed to have forgotten about it. He was walking away from the fight, dusting off his suit. "For fuck's sake, will someone please handle this girl?" he said.

Buffy dove for the gun and managed to snag it, but the other seven vampires piled on top of her. Buffy had never handled a gun before but she had seen plenty of movies. She rolled around and started firing off shots as the vampires tried to pin her down. She knew the bullets couldn't do any real damage to them but they'd still hurt. And by emptying the gun she insured the bullets couldn't do any more damage to her. She kept firing until the gun made a clicking noise, then she smashed it into the nearest vampire's face, flung it away and got up. Trick and Kakistos stood by a tree, watching her. The other eight vampires surrounded her. The ones with bullet wounds growled in pain.

"Remember what happened last time you left a Slayer to the hired help?" Trick said. "This one's already killed six."

"Good point," Kakistos said, and ran at Buffy. The other eight vampires spread out, giving him room.

Kakistos threw a punch that took Buffy by surprise: it was much too fast. She wasn't ready and she barely ducked it in time. It connected with a tree with a crunch and knocked the tree down. Buffy had assumed Kakistos would be slow because of his size. He was much faster than he looked.

Buffy was faster. She spun and viciously kicked him in the face, a kick that would have killed any ordinary man instantly. It snapped his head back, but didn't move him. He tried to grab her, but she dodged him again, looking for Willow. She saw her lying on the grass. She couldn't tell if she was breathing.

Something happened inside of Buffy, when she saw Willow like that. Buffy felt it happen inside her.

Screaming, she ran at Kakistos and punched him in the face, first with one fist, then the other, punched him with every single ounce of her prodigious strength, over and over again, ignoring the pain in her shoulder that flared every time she connected with her right. The barrage of punches backed Kakistos up, but didn't seem to be hurting him. He laughed, taking the punishment just to show her he could. Buffy was snarling and screaming and baring her teeth; she was throwing out punches that could crush bones to powder.

Her fury flooded through her, filled her up until she couldn't contain it and then exploded out of her, exploded through her arms, and she sent it all crashing against Kakistos like cannon fire. He was trying to cover up now, but she was hitting him so hard that her hands were a blur. She smelled his blood, as his nose broke beneath her fist. The smell of it sent her into a frenzy. She roared, saliva dripping from her teeth, as she pummeled his face into meat. The Slayer was in control now and she was a lion and she meant to beat Kakistos down to nothing, to erase him. She wanted to bite his neck and feel it crack in her jaws. She wanted to see her fist come out the other side of his head. She wanted to eat his heart.

She almost tripped over something. She knew it was her stake. The lion in her didn't care about the stake; the lion wanted to keep hitting him. But Buffy knew that wouldn't work. The punishment she had been raining down on him could have knocked over a building by now and he was still standing. And she knew her rage couldn't carry her forever. She knew she had to out-think him.

Buffy took control of the lion, made her drop to the grass, scoop the stake up and roll to her side before Kakistos could grab her. Then she flipped herself back up, dodged one of his thunderous punches, got in under his guard, and staked him in the heart…

Kakistos laughed and backhanded her away; it was like a bat hitting a baseball. No one Buffy had ever fought had hit her anywhere near as hard. She hurtled through the air, crashed through the trees…and everything went black.

She sat up, and saw Willow standing in front of her, looking at Kakistos and Trick and the vampires.

Buffy stood up and steadied herself against a tree. She felt lightheaded. "You gotta…get out of here," she muttered, and touched Willow's shoulder.

Buffy tried to turn Willow around and push her behind her…and then she saw Willow's eyes, and shuddered.

They were black. They were as black as outer space…they were the blackest things Buffy had ever seen.

Willow didn't move, didn't look at Buffy. She looked straight at Kakistos, with those black eyes…with the Devil's eyes.

Kakistos strolled toward Willow and Buffy, chuckling. His vampires came with him. But Trick remained where he was, looking up at the sky…

A deafening peal of thunder struck again, followed by another bolt of lightning, even more powerful than the first.

And Buffy gasped, as Willow called the lightning down from the sky and redirected it straight at Kakistos and his vampires through her fingertips.

The vampires with Kakistos were vaporized instantly. Kakistos flew across the clearing and smashed into a tree, his skin charred and blackened and smoking. Trick ran to him and propped him up.

"Time to go," Trick said, looking at Willow in amazement. But he looked away, when she looked back at him…he couldn't face those eyes. Kakistos nodded, and Trick led him away.

And then everything was in slow motion, and spinning around, and she heard Buffy scream, "No!"

Willow felt like all the energy in her body was seeping out of her, seeping into the ground…

"Willow…!" Willow heard. She opened her eyes. Buffy was kneeling over her, scared. Buffy's shoulder was bleeding.

"Don't ever do that again!" Buffy screamed, and hugged her. "Don't ever scare me like that again!"

Willow sat up. She felt better. Her energy had returned. She wondered if she had reabsorbed it from the ground, then realized that was a very strange thought, and dismissed it. "I need coffee," she said. "A big mocha cappuccino with lots of sugar. And those cocoa sprinkles."

"Zapped him too, but he survived. Faith was right, he's way, way tougher than a regular vamp. I staked him and got bupkiss."

"Will…I'm…I'm sorry," Buffy said. "I'm sorry about Angel. He has his soul back. Your spell worked, it brought him back to me and it's just…I love him." She started to cry. "I love him so much I can't breathe sometimes."
"I know, Buffy. I know you love him."

"But I love you too! You're my best friend and…and I can't lose you, Will. And I don't know…what I'll do if…"

"He hits like a battering ram, he can't be staked, and he has a whole bunch of vamps for backup," Buffy said. It was one in the morning, and they were sitting in the living room in Rupert Giles' house. Giles was Buffy's Watcher, and a librarian, and also British, so he was used to strange new super-powerful vampires and meetings with his Slayer after midnight, he had a large collection of occult books, many of which were spread out on the coffee table in front of him, and he had made tea and set out a plate of dry little British tea cookies that you couldn't find anywhere in the United States. Buffy sat with Willow on the couch in the tastefully frumpy room with the fireplace and the scented candles. Giles liked scented candles. Tonight the house smelled like cinnamon.

Buffy looked around the room, at the guitar Giles sometimes played, leaning next to the stack of corny old records, the hat rack in the corner even though Giles never wore hats, the expensive rug she had once spilled a vanilla milkshake on, and the television that completely didn't get HBO, as Giles bent down in front of her in his bathrobe and slippers and bandaged her shoulder. She chewed one of the tasteless British tea cookies and washed it down with a sip of tea. She had lost count of the times she had been here, often late at night, often because she was hurt and she needed Giles to patch her up. He never complained, no matter how late it was. He was always gentle, when he treated her wounds.

She looked down at the milkshake stain on the rug. The rug cleaning people hadn't been able to get it out. It had been a year since that day.

"You'll be fine," Giles said with a smile, when he was finished bandaging her shoulder. "The bullet went straight through."

Giles wiped his glasses, which he did when he was agitated or they were fogged up, sat down in the big, squeaky leather recliner, looked through his books, and sipped his tea.

"I know Kakistos by reputation; he killed Madeleine Lambert, the Slayer before you," Giles said. "I'm sure I have something on him somewhere. And he just showed up out of the blue?"

"The other part of my double feature tonight," Buffy said. "Didn't catch her last name but she's definitely a Slayer."

Giles stood up, and paced around the room. "I was wondering if she'd find her way out here," he said. "I've been trying to get in touch with her all week… ever since the incident in Boston."

"Details are sketchy, a lot of what I know I've gleaned from the news channels," Giles said. "The police out there are covering it up, but Faith was obviously attacked by a large group of vampires. It happened in a restaurant located on the top floor of a skyscraper in Boston."

"It was Kakistos and his guys who attacked her," Buffy said. "She told me she dusted the lackeys, but Kakistos got away and now he's here. Along with his pal, a vamp named Trick. And they've already found more goons. They had fourteen vamps with them. If it wasn't for Willow I'd be dead."

"We're going to have to talk about that, Willow," Giles said, looking at Willow intently. "It would appear your magic has taken a rather dangerous turn."

"Nevertheless, you did it," Giles said. "And the fact that you don't know how you did it makes it even more worrying. But tonight we have more pressing matters."

"Yeah, I'd say a vamp who can send me into the air like a pop fly is pressing," Buffy said. "I'd say he's totally pressing. I've fought a lot of tough vamps, Giles. This one's in another league."

"And what he did in Boston was tragic," Giles said. "Sixty-three people were killed, including Faith's Watcher. And Faith nearly died with them. She fell more than fifty stories to the street. It's nothing short of a miracle she survived, even a Slayer shouldn't be able to take that kind of punishment."

"Yes," Giles said. "She was one of the people killed in the restaurant. A terrible loss for the Council, and for Faith."

Buffy thought about scented candles. She thought about Giles' corny guitar playing and his wonderful tea…the milkshake stain on the rug, and the way he always wiped his glasses when he was agitated…and she thought about what her life would be like if she ever lost them….if she ever lost him.

She felt Willow looking at her. "Yeah, Will," she said. "Go ahead and say it. I'm a jackass."

"Faith and I…didn't exactly hit it off," Buffy said. "I said some things. Some stupid, jackassy things. Who was her Watcher?"

"A woman named Rebecca Greer," Giles said. "I met her at a Watchers Council retreat a few years ago. Absolutely brilliant woman, she specialized in training potential Slayers. She took Faith in when she was a potential and trained her. The two of them were apparently extremely close. According to the records Faith ran away from her mother years before…there was a history of physical abuse dating back to Faith's childhood. It took Rebecca weeks to find her; she finally tracked her down last year. Rebecca eventually became something of a mother to her. Actually, I received a letter from Rebecca a little over a week ago. I was meaning to mention it to you. She was planning on bringing Faith out here for a vacation. It seems Faith was very much looking forward to meeting you."

"We could start by checking the local motels," Giles said. "She just arrived, we can assume she's probably staying at one of them."

"But there's a million motels around Sunnydale," Buffy said. "And how do we know she's not in L.A.? It would take us forever to call them all, and that's assuming anyone's gonna bother picking up the phone at this time of night."

"Yeah. If I was on the run and Kakistos and his never-ending supply of disposable henchmen were after me I'd be all, Hi, I'm Jane Smith," Buffy said.

Willow took her hairbrush out of her handbag. There was a single long, brown hair embedded in it.

Xander Harris had seen a lot of frightening things since becoming Buffy's friend; vampires were just the tip of the iceberg. There had also been a giant preying mantis, bewitched Halloween costumes, mummies, assorted robots, many, many snakes, a big blue demon that was assembled a piece at a time, a living puppet, and British people. But he had taken it all in stride, and even though he wasn't super-strong or magical and had no extraordinary abilities to speak of other than his uncanny knack for snarkiness, he always stood squarely at Buffy's side. Even at four-thirty in the morning.

"Okay, let me see if I understand all this," Xander said, yawning and drinking very strong coffee in the backseat of Giles' car, a grey 1963 Citroen DS that Giles insisted was a classic French automobile and Xander insisted looked like an overturned bathtub, as he and Buffy and Willow drove to Faith's motel before dawn. "In the eleven hours since I last saw you guys, there's a new Slayer in town, there's a new super scary vampire in town who can't be staked, and Willow can shoot lightning now."

"Yup," Buffy said, wrestling with the car like she always did on the sad occasions when she was forced to drive it, and grabbing a donut from one of the big boxes on Willow's lap. She took a bite, and washed it down with a sip of the latte she held between her legs because French people apparently didn't believe in cup holders. "Welcome to Sunnydale." She watched the street carefully, keeping an eye out for cars following them.

"You're doing a lot better this time, Buffy," Willow said with a hopeful smile, while eating a blueberry muffin and carefully balancing an extra-large super mocha cappuccino in her hand. Drinks had a tendency to spill when Buffy drove. "We haven't lurched as much as usual. I don't even feel nauseous!"

"I hate this car," Buffy said, as she struggled with the gear shift and the car made a noise like it was belching. "I really want to make sure everyone's totally clear on that. I think I'm gonna get it tattooed on my ankle."

"So you really shot lightning from your hands?" Xander said, grinning at Willow. "That's the most awesome thing ever! You're like Emperor Palpatine!"

Willow turned around and looked at him. "I'm like who?" she said, with her mouth full.

"I have a bad feeling it's Star Wars," Buffy said. "And he's gonna explain it to us."

"Palpatine was the emperor in Return of the Jedi," Xander said. "You know, the old guy who shot lightning at Luke?"

"And yeah, okay, lightning, but I don't know how I did it and I don't know how to do it again," Willow said. "It wasn't a spell. It just…kinda happened. And then, not really liking the fainting."

"No, it wasn't," Buffy said. "So let's hope Lightning Girl is officially retired."

"She's from Boston," Buffy said. "She's…" she searched for the right words. "We're different."

"Don't be so sure, Buffy," Willow said with a smile. "Anyway, I like her. She's nice."

"And she saved your life," Xander said. "Saving one of my best buds? That's serious brownie points in my book."

Willow nodded, and didn't pursue the subject. Buffy glanced at her. When Willow told Xander about the three vampires after they'd gone to his house and dragged him out of bed, she hadn't mentioned what the vampires had planned to do to her.

They were a few blocks away from the Magic Box now, and officially on the Wrong Side of the Tracks in Sunnydale. Xander looked around at the boarded-up buildings, thankful Buffy was with him. "And you're sure Faith's here, huh?" he said.

Buffy thought of her house, on her sunny, tree-lined street. She wondered what would have happened to her if she had run away like Faith did; on her own for years with no one to support her. Buffy had left Sunnydale and lived in a cheap little room in Los Angeles the previous summer, when her mother, sick with worry and unable to cope with the knowledge that her daughter was the Slayer, went a little crazy for awhile and kicked her out of the house. But her mother was frantically apologizing and begging her to come back the first time Buffy called her. Buffy stayed away for the summer anyway to get her head together after what happened with Angel, but she knew she had a home waiting for her. She knew her mother loved her.

What would have happened to her if it were all taken away? If her mother had beat her all her life, the way Faith's mother had? If Giles had been killed in front of her eyes?

Faith had saved her best friend's life. She had saved her best friend from being raped and killed.

Buffy knew she should have been there. But she wasn't…because she had screwed up. She'd screwed up and Willow almost died because of it. She remembered the photographs in a shoebox in her closet. She'd screwed up then, too. Maybe all she'd ever done was screw up.

"Yup, whenever people give me that crap about how there aren't any vampires and it's all just gangs on PCP, I always say take a stroll on down to the Magic Box," Xander said. "And make sure to bring a Slayer. Or the National Guard." He looked at Willow. "Kind of a bonehead play, coming out here yourself last night, Will. You could at least have brought me along. Sure, I'm not a Slayer, but…well, actually, I've got nothing to finish that sentence. But I wish you had brought me anyway."

Willow had told Buffy where the three vampires attacked her the night before. It was the alley down the block from the Magic Box. Buffy knew they were getting close to it now. As she stopped at a red light, she flicked the turn signal on.

"Oh, hey," Buffy said. "Do you have Friday's trig homework? I sorta lost track of time getting my ass kicked last night and I totally spaced on it."

"You really want to risk cheating off my homework?" Xander said. "You Slayers sure are brave." Something happened to Willow in that alley. Xander suspected it, when she first told him about how she had met Faith, and he heard something wrong in her voice; he knew it for a fact now.

"Your wrong answers can't be any lamer than mine," Buffy said. "Why can't Willow be in our trig class? And do either of you guys have your Western Civ notes? I was looking through my notes yesterday for the test on Constantinople and it turns out I'm missing the stuff on the Spartans and the Battle of Monopoly. I think I was fighting a robot that day."

"It's the Battle of Thermopylae," Willow said with a smile. "I've got the notes. And I'll help you with the trig if we have a chance." They passed the alley where the three vampires attacked her. Willow looked at it.

Without knowing why, Faith woke up, leaped out of bed and came up in a crouch with a sword in her hand. She let her senses reach out.

She heard some guy on the other side of the door say, "We're not vampires, by the way. Uh, just in case you thought we were vampires."

Willow was standing there with two big Starbucks bags, smiling. Buffy stood behind her holding three boxes of donuts, and there was a guy with her whom Faith had never seen before. He was looking at Faith hopefully.

Buffy wasn't looking at Faith at all. She looked like she'd rather be anywhere else right now. Buffy smelled like a certain kind of flower…Faith had been trying to remember which kind, all night. It was pretty.

"That's Xander," Willow said, sitting next to Faith on the bed, as Xander and Buffy sat in the two rickety chairs.

"I'm the official mascot," Xander said. "And I'm also the official greeter for new Slayers. So, on behalf of all the non-vampire, non-demon, non-robot, non-giant preying mantis residents of Sunnydale, I officially bid you welcome."

"I really am the official greeter for new Slayers," Xander said, looking from Willow to Buffy. "We all agreed on that after Kendra, remember? Didn't we say I could be the official greeter?"

Buffy watched Willow, sitting next to Faith. She looked comfortable and completely at ease with her. The image came into her mind again, of Willow and Faith kissing. She buried it again.

"Faith, we brought donuts and stuff," Willow said, opening one of the boxes. "Come on, have some."

"Okay," Faith said. "Thanks." She was grateful for the food. She knew her money wouldn't last long and she was trying to conserve it.

"We brought a lot," Xander said. "Judging from the way Buffy eats, we figured you'd have a big Slayer appetite." He turned to Buffy and held up his hand. "And before you misinterpret that comment to mean I think you're fat, let me state for the record that I don't think you're fat, I've never thought you're fat, and I'd like to petition the court to change the subject in advance."

"Plus, look!" Willow said, and hauled two big plastic cups out of one of the Starbucks bags like she was scooping gold doubloons out of a treasure chest, and handed one to Faith. "Extra-large super mocha cappuccino with lots of sugar and cocoa sprinkles!"

Extra what with what now?" Faith said, sniffing it. It smelled good, whatever it was.

Faith shrugged her shoulders and drank, and had a corn muffin too. And they all ate muffins and donuts and drank coffees and lattes and extra-large super mocha cappuccinos, and avoided looking at the terrible orange and black painting, and they were quiet. Faith thought she should probably say something, as it was her room and they were, after a fashion, her guests. But she didn't know what to say. She and Buffy had been avoiding each other's eyes since they arrived.

"Um, so that's a nice sword," Willow said, lamely. Faith looked over at the rapier on the nightstand.

"UC Sunnydale has a fencing club," Faith said. "I broke in and borrowed a rapier. It's not the best kind of sword but it'll have to do."

As silence descended again, Faith drank some more super mocha cappuccino, searched her brain for something to say, and finally managed to come up with, "So what's up?"

It wasn't much, but it was five in the morning and she had gotten forty-five minutes of sleep and it would have to do until she drank a lot more super mocha cappuccino.

"What?" Faith said, her posture becoming ramrod straight, the tired haze instantly disappearing from her eyes. She touched Willow's shoulder. "Will, are you…are you okay? What happened?" She noticed the bruise on Willow's face was worse than the night before.

"Trick caught up to us in the cemetery after you left," Willow said. "He had six vampires with him. He asked if we knew where you were. Then he called Kakistos on his cell phone, and Kakistos came with eight more vampires."

"Did they…hurt you?" Faith said. Faith knew it was her fault. If she hadn't lost her temper and left them there…if she hadn't insisted on going after Kakistos alone…she blushed, and felt like a fool.

"Buffy took out the six vamps Trick had with him, but then he shot her and Kakistos showed up with eight more," Willow said.

Faith wanted to make sure she'd heard that right. "Wait," she said. "Will took them down?"

"I'm…not really sure how I did it," Willow said. "I kinda sorta called down a lightning bolt."

"I got the vampires Kakistos had with him," Willow said, as Faith stared at her. "But Trick was too far away, and Kakistos was too strong. The vampires were dusted, but when the lightning bolt hit Kakistos it just kinda burned him, and he and Trick got away."

"You killed eight vampires with a lightning bolt," Faith said, trying to wrap her head around it. "You killed eight vampires by calling a lightning bolt down from the sky."

Willow looked at Buffy, and then back at Faith. "Faith, Buffy has something she wants to tell you," she said.

Buffy was staring down at the floor. After a moment she looked up, and met Faith's eyes.

Buffy got up, and stood in front of Faith. "Faith, I was…" Buffy said, and looked down at the floor again. "I was a bitch to you last night. You came to town and all you did was save my best friend's life and try to help me out and I treated you like shit. I'm sorry. I have some stuff going on and it's made me…it's put me off my game lately. But that's no excuse. Can we just…maybe start over…?

Faith still wasn't sure she liked her. But she knew it had taken a lot to do what Buffy had just done. Buffy was meeting her halfway. She was trying.

"I screwed up last night, Buffy," Faith said. "I left you hanging out there and you could've been killed. You were trying to talk sense to me and I wouldn't listen. I…got stuff going on too. So yeah, starting over sounds pretty good to me."

They watched each other. The tension was still there. Faith felt it, and she knew Buffy felt it too. They were two Slayers…

But there was something else. A warm feeling. Faith's body had tingled when she first met Buffy…like an electric current was passing through her. But then it had faded, and left a warm feeling behind…and the warm feeling was there again now.

Faith tried to remember the flower Buffy's scent reminded her of. Rebecca had it in the house sometimes…

After a few seconds, Willow finally stood up and glared at both of them with her hands on her hips.

Xander snorted and started laughing. And, despite herself, Faith laughed too, and then so did Buffy. Willow was smiling, but her eyes were very serious.

"I think we'd better do what she says," Buffy said, and offered her hand to Faith. "Will can get cranky. Plus, lightning bolts."

Faith and Buffy had polished off five donuts, three corn muffins, a latte and an extra-large super mocha cappuccino, and other than the fact that they were talking about an incredibly powerful ancient vampire who was actively trying to kill them, the mood was good. They sat on the bed together and started in on the cranberry muffins, and they seemed to be more comfortable with each other. Willow and Xander were smiling in their rickety chairs.

Buffy glanced at Faith's legs. Faith looked pretty, in her nightgown. She had nice legs. Faith's scent came to her. Fruity…like a peach. With the hint of muskiness underneath that made it even better. Buffy had a warm feeling in her stomach, sitting next to her now. And it had been there in the cemetery, too…

"Still can't get over it," Faith said. "Will shot lightning from her hands. Lightning. Hot damn."

"It's too bad I can't figure out how I did it," Willow said. "It was kinda cool, except, y'know, with the fainting."

"Probably better this way," Faith said. "Whatever the hell you did, it took a lot out of you. I'm just glad you didn't get hurt."

"I've got donuts, my super mocha cappuccino, and a new friend," Willow said, and smiled. "I'm good. Heck, I'm just this side of dandy."

"Just leave the heavy lifting to Faith and me," Buffy said. "Worrying about you stresses me out. It's bad for my complexion."

"From now on you're staying up on the ship with me, Will," Xander said. "No more away teams for you."

"Star Trek," Buffy said. "Remind me to lend you my Xander-to-English dictionary. I'm fluent, but you're gonna need a crash course."

"Okay," Faith said. "So you guys took out the hired help. With any luck that was all of 'em and it'll take them awhile to recruit more. We've got a window here. We need to use it. We find Kakistos before he finds us and take the fight to him. During the day if we can swing it."

"In Sunnydale one super-powerful evil vampire is like a tiny evil needle in a big evil haystack," Buffy said. "But I can ask around. There's a demon bar in town. The bartender keeps me clued in."

"I don't pay him though," Buffy said. "I just beat him up. He's a greasy little sleazebag."

"You know, Buff, Willy's a pretty cheap bribe," Xander said. "I bribed him with twenty-eight dollars once last year during that whole giant snake thing."

"Or, hey, y'know, we can just do this," Willow said, and pulled candles, a folded-up map of Sunnydale, and a tupperware bowl of powder from her handbag.

"Locator spell?" Buffy said. "But you'll need something from Kakistos, and we don't have anything."

"I took this from the cemetery," Willow said, and gingerly pulled Trick's gun from her handbag, careful to aim it toward the floor.

"That's the gun Trick shot me with," Buffy said. "He's totally off my Christmas list. And on my kick in the face list. Don't worry, it's out of bullets."

"Okay. And once we find him we'll find Kakistos, one way or another. I'll need two or three hours," Willow said, and took a big gulp of her super mocha cappuccino, set the map, candles, powder and gun out on the floor, and sat cross-legged in front of them. She took a lighter from her purse, and lit the candles. Peppermint wafted through the room.

"I stole some of his peppermint ones," Willow said. "Peppermint's my favorite but the Magic Box was all out."

"My Watcher," Buffy said. "He's British. He's British with a side-order of British."

"Now you Slayers go and be all strategic and come up with a plan," Willow said. "Witch meditating here."

"You can come over here and be strategic with me and Faith if you promise not to talk about how Luke was strategic when he had to take out the Death Star, or any plan Captain Kirk ever came up with," Buffy said. "Especially that Teriyaki Maru thing."

"It was a brilliantly unorthodox plan," Xander said, and sat on the bed with them.

"We know Kakistos is way stronger than a regular vamp," Buffy said. "Can't be staked. Serious anger management issues. I'd say he's downright grumpy. Especially now that you've got him singing falsetto."

Xander's hands moved in front of his groin. "I'm just gonna apologize in advance right now for anything I might ever say, do or think that might annoy you in any conceivable way, ever," he said.

"Don't worry, Xan Man, you're on my good list," Faith said. "So okay, we know Kakistos is a bad ass, no question. But I've been thinking about what went down in Boston. Trick gets chatty, and he dropped some hints that make me think he's the key to all this."

"Faith," Buffy said. "I'm…really sorry about your Watcher. I'm sorry about Rebecca."

Faith looked back at them again. "Okay, Trick," she said. "He tracked Rebecca to the restaurant she was at, trying to get a bead on me."

"He knew what kind of car she drove, had her plate number," Faith said. "He knew her full name, birthday, where she lived in England, where she lived with me in Boston, everything. He said I was hard to track because there wasn't much of a paper trail on me and it pissed him off. But he still knew my last name, what part of Boston I was from, knew I dropped out of school and don't have my driver's license yet. He talked about computers. I figure that's how he tracks people. And he's the one who gets Kakistos his goons. He mentioned that too."

"The tracking people makes sense," Buffy said. "He was here looking for you right after you got here."

"'Course, they'd probably figure I'd head out here," Faith said. "Kakistos mentioned he'd be coming after you next, they probably figured I'd warn you."

"Maybe more like, Kakistos is in charge but Trick makes sure everything runs smooth," Faith said. "Either way, we start with Trick, we can squeeze him for all the info we need."

"Trick stayed out of the fight with me," Buffy said. "I don't know how tough he is, but for all we know he could be really tough. If he can't be staked either I'm gonna start pouting."

"Think about it," Xander said. "Trick went after Faith through her Watcher. He had all her personal info. Anyone good enough with computers that he has access to all that, it's a cinch he can probably trace phone calls, backtrack a license to get an address, all that stuff. Sure, he wants Faith but you're on his list. What makes you think he won't do the same thing with Giles? Or your Mom? For all we know he's got their addresses now. If I had a Slayer on my trail, holding someone she cares about hostage would be a pretty nice bargaining chip to have."

"Oh my God," Buffy said, and leaped off the bed. Faith was up out of the bed too, looking toward the front door, all her senses alert, her sword back in her hand. Remembering the cars with blacked-out windows, and the guns inside.

"Not just Giles and your Mom, B," Faith said. "We gotta stash 'em all, Will and Xander too."

"Way ahead of you," Buffy said, picking up the phone on the nightstand. "By the way, please, please tell me you didn't use your real name when you checked into this place."

"Buffy, wait!" Xander said. "If Trick has Giles' or your Mom's phones tapped then calling them tells him exactly where you are right now."

"Oh, and Buff," Xander said. "Tell Giles I said to bring the crate I left at his place. He'll know what you mean."

Faith moved to a chair by the window and drew the curtains. She watched Willow, in a trance on the floor, oblivious to everything around her, and vulnerable.

She had been keeping count of all the people who had died because of her. Because she wasn't good enough. Because she screwed up. She'd heard on the news that the death toll from the Prudential building and the Papa Gino's was seventy-two.

Willow had almost been number seventy-three in the cemetery, because Faith had left her and Buffy there alone…because she had screwed up again. Buffy had almost been number seventy-four.

"Good catch on all the cloak and dagger stuff, Xan Man," Faith said, as she watched the street through a tiny gap in the curtains, her sword ready.

"Buffy's the star, but sometimes you have to throw your bench guys in, give your starters a rest," Xander said. "I just try not to blow the lead."

"Talkin' hoop, huh?" Faith said with a smile, not taking her eyes off the street. "And here I thought you were all about the sci-fi."

"Bite your tongue, Xan Man," Faith said. "I'm Celts all the way, baby." She had let Rebecca die. She had let all those people in the Prudential building and the Papa Gino's die. She had almost let Willow and Buffy die. Maybe Buffy was right about her the night before. Maybe all she'd ever done was screw up.

"Long enough for a couple more banners," Faith said. Maybe she was a screw-up. Maybe she was just stupid. Maybe she always would be. But she wasn't going to let Willow and Xander die. Kakistos would have to go through her first.

"Giles!" Buffy said, into the payphone in the parking lot of the Arby's four miles away from Faith's motel. "Just listen and don't talk, the line could be traced. I'm at Faith's place. I called a cab, it's on the way out to your house now. Get in, get my Mom, and get out here with her right now. Bring money, you'll be taking another cab ride from here. And Xander says bring the crate he left at your place. And I hate your car. I'm pretty sure it's evil. I might stake it."

She smiled. "Yeah, I know," she said. "It's a classic French automobile…I, um, spilled a teeny little splash of coffee on the seat. But it's just a little bit, you can't even notice it. It totally blends with the other coffee stain from last month."

"Okay, I'm hanging up now," she said. "Remember what I said last night about the cars with blacked-out windows. And Giles? Thanks. Thanks for…" Her eyes started tearing up. "Thanks for just…always being there for me, okay?" she said, her voice quavering. "You're the best Watcher in the world. I gotta go now. I'll see you soon, okay?"

"Everything's cool," Faith said, as she opened the door and let her in. "Willow's floating now and Xander and me are talking basketball. Giles and your Mom on the way?"

"Yeah," Buffy said, and sat on the bed and had a donut. "Now we just need someplace for them to go."

"It's gotta be a private house so vamps can't walk in," Faith said, and grabbed a jelly donut. Buffy kept on taking the jellies, and there were only two left now. "And whoever lives there can't be connected to you. No relatives, no friends. Who knows what Trick's got on you so far but we can't take chances."

"So we need someone no one would ever expect us to go to, but who'd still take us in," Xander said. "And there is no way the Celtics make it out of the east this year. Jordan won't be denied forever."

"Len and Reggie are good for another couple runs, and now that Red's brought in Shaq? Chicago won't know what hit 'em," Faith said. "And if we don't get past the Bulls this time there's no damn way you guys are."

Buffy thought about sending everyone to stay with Angel, but immediately dismissed the idea. He could protect them, but Xander and Giles didn't trust him after everything that had happened and they probably wouldn't ever trust him again. And Willow…Buffy knew there was still something wrong. Something Willow hadn't told her. And Angel's mansion wasn't a private residence as far as vampires were concerned anyway; they could walk right in without being invited. She watched the easy way Faith got along with Xander. Buffy was certain Faith would stake Angel on sight no matter how hard she tried to explain to her about how he had a soul now, and she was also certain Xander and Giles would be on Faith's side. She was just starting to get it together with Faith and she didn't need Angel complicating things now.

"Hey, we held up our end, man," Faith said with a grin. "The Celts stayed good even after Larry and Kevin retired. We're on banner twenty-two now, baby. Not our fault you guys couldn't keep up."

Buffy thought of all the people she knew, trying to come up with someone she knew well enough to be able to swing an invitation to their house, but not so well that Trick could connect her to them.

"Bullcookies," she said, and pulled her address book from her purse, and picked up the phone.
"Got someone?" Xander said.

"Yeah," Buffy said. "And you're not gonna like her. But on the plus side, her house has a pool."

"Hold onto those happy feelings, Xander," Buffy said, and dialed. "Nurture them. Cherish them."

Cordelia Chase rolled over in her luxurious bed, opened one eye, and squinted at the darkness. Her phone was ringing. She squinted at the floor-to-ceiling window thirty feet away. The sun wasn't up yet. She squinted at the alarm clock. It said 5:50.

She tried to remember what day it was. For one terrifying moment she thought it was Monday. Then she knew it had to be Sunday, because she had been to the party after the football game the night before and she felt hung over. She tried to remember how far she had let Todd Evans go when she was off in that quiet corner with him and his shoulders and her third martini. Being completely, adorably fabulous and the most popular girl in school could be a cross to bear sometimes. There were political considerations people never took into account.

The phone kept ringing. The maid wasn't picking it up. Cordy buried her head under her pillow, but then decided whoever had the gall to wake her up before sunrise on a Sunday when she was hung over was desperately in need of being ripped a new asshole and that it was practically her civic duty to do it. And the maid was so completely going to get yelled at that it wasn't even funny.

She shrugged off her silk sheets, readied the first volley in what she anticipated to be a short but devastating "shock and awe" style verbal assault, and picked up the phone.

"Whoever you are, let me count the ways that you're pissing me off," she said. "And then let me explain to you exactly why pissing me off is such a really disastrously bad idea."

"Cordy," Buffy said, frowning at the phone. Kakistos was going to get an extra-special beating for making her do this. "Always a pleasure. You're just a ray of sunshine in all our lives."

"Who the hell is this?" Cordy said, getting up and wrapping her velour bathrobe around her. She was completely awake now and ready for a fight, something she could really sink her teeth into. The voice sounded familiar, but she couldn't quite place it. "And what exactly is your mental damage that you think waking people up at six in the morning on a Sunday is a good idea?"

"It's Buffy. Buffy Summers. The girl you've been rude to in the hallways at school for the past couple years? Oh yeah, and I also saved your life. Twice."

"Buffy," Cordy said, with a grim smile. "Of course it's you. How could it not be you? Who else can so effortlessly piss me off?"

"As much as I'd like exchanging pleasantries with you all morning, I need to get right down to it," Buffy said. "I need a favor."

"You," Cordy said. "Need a favor. From me. I'm on one of those shows where they pull pranks on people, right? There are cameramen in the bushes outside and they're gonna leap out and say 'gotcha'!"

"Cordy, my Mom and Giles and my friends are in trouble. I need you to let them stay at your place today. It should just be for today. Then I'll come get them when it's over."

"Sure, anything else? Wanna borrow my car? How about a date with my boyfriend? Or I could write you out a check for a million dollars…"

Buffy sighed. "Cordy, I'm serious," she said. "They've got nowhere else to go, and…"

"What are you talking about?" Cordy said, pacing around the room and stretching her back. Talking to Buffy always made her back hurt for some reason. The girl just stressed her out. "Nowhere to go why? In trouble why? Make sense, because I was done with this conversation before I even picked up the phone."

Buffy wanted to put her fist through the wall. "Remember how I saved your life when those vampires tried to kill you?" she said.

"Think what you want, I don't have time to argue. There's a vampire after me and he might try to get at me through my Mom and Giles and Willow and Xander. They need somewhere to stay until I take him down."

"Okay," Cordy said, and grinned despite herself. "I'll take Buffy's Paranoid Delusions for eight-hundred. So if vampires are after your friends why not put them up in a hotel?"

"Because vampires can walk right into a hotel, it's a public place. And this one's good at tracking people. But they can't walk into a private home, they have to be invited. You'll all be safe as long as you don't let any strange people in."

"And yet you want me to let your friends in," Cordy said. "Are we seeing the logical flaw in our argument yet?"

"Cordy," Buffy said, and took a deep breath. She was an inch away from reaching through the phone and strangling her. "I saved your life. Twice. I don't give a shit whether you acknowledge it or not, I don't give a shit whether you believe in vampires or not."

Xander and Faith both looked at Buffy. Xander had seen Buffy like this before. And he knew when he heard Buffy speaking in that particular tone of voice and he saw Buffy's eyes flashing in that particular way that it was time to duck and cover.

"I saved your ungrateful life and you owe me and you're gonna make good on it, Cordy," Buffy said. "My Mom and Giles and Willow and Xander are in trouble and you owe me and you're gonna make good on it today."

Cordy hadn't ever heard this tone from Buffy before. But she had seen Buffy punch a hole through a wall and she had seen her take down three vampires – Cordy knew vampires existed, she just pretended she didn't because that was the official line in town – single-handed. Cordy didn't duck and cover for anyone…but she decided it might be a good idea to tread a little cautiously now.

"If I have to come down there and bang on your door you're gonna find out just how bitchy I can be," Buffy said.

"Fine, whatever," Cordy said, after a moment. "Just make sure they don't touch anything. I don't know where they've been."

Buffy was tired. She hadn't slept in more than a day and she felt it catching up with her now. "One more thing, Cordy," she said. "My Mom will be with them. Please don't be rude to her."

The 'please' took Cordy by surprise. Underneath it, she heard the worry and the exhaustion in Buffy's voice for the first time. And she suddenly felt lousy about herself.

"It's…it's okay, Buffy," Cordy said. "I'll be nice to them. The weather's supposed to be summery today, you know…tell them to bring their bathing suits if they want. It looks like it'll be a great day for using the pool."

"I can't believe you're making us stay with Cordy," Xander said. "What did we ever do to you?"

"Queen bitch, huh?" Faith said. "I knew a couple girls like her in high school. Well, for the year I went to high school anyway."

"Only because she's never seen me really pissed off," Buffy said. "If she ever does she'll find out who the real queen bitch is pretty fast."

"We were partnered up on that science project, remember?" Buffy said. "The thing with the egg? Drop it from twelve feet and find a way for it not to break? Guess I forgot to throw away her phone number. And burn it."

"Oh yeah, right, I remember that now. And then your egg broke and there was that Pterodactyl Demon," Xander said.

"If Cordy had held up her end building the little parachute thing the egg wouldn't have broke in the first place," Buffy said. "Stupid demon egg. How was I supposed to know it was a demon egg? If they're gonna sell demon eggs at the supermarket they should be clearly labeled."

"Welcome to Sunnydale," Buffy said. "Anyway there's hope for Cordy yet. She said you guys could use the pool."

"Hey, great!" Xander said. "If we can just stop at my place and get my swim stuff –"

"Nope," Faith said. "Too risky. If you absolutely gotta swim, stop off at a store somewhere and buy a bathing suit real quick. You all need to stay away from your houses today."

"Faith's right," Buffy said. "You can stop off at the Costco or whatever and buy what you need to make your stay at Cordy's livable. But you have to be quick, and no going home. And no leaving Cordy's until we come and get you."

Buffy sat back down on the bed with Faith and took the last jelly donut. Faith decided to overlook that.

"Okay, Faith," Buffy said. "Let's figure out how you and me are gonna dust these guys."

After attacking the dilemma from every conceivable angle, it eventually became apparent to Buffy and Faith that the problem with super-powerful vampires who can't be staked and potentially have a network of vampire minions cruising around with automatic rifles is that it's very difficult to come up with plans to defeat them. They still had yet to come up with a plan, when the bell rang. Instantly, Faith was up and ready to fight. But Buffy was relaxed.

Buffy opened the door, and Joyce Summers rushed into the room and threw her arms around her.

"What happened to you? Tell me what happened! Are you all right? What happened to your shoulder?" Joyce practically screamed, noticing the bandage.

Faith watched her with Buffy. Joyce was forty years old, and pretty, and she looked younger than her age. She was tall, with reddish-blonde hair and hazel eyes, and Buffy looked like her. Buffy smelled like her too. Faith saw Joyce's concern; she saw the love there. She looked away.

"A vamp…scratched it," Buffy said. "Look, Mom, I don't have a lot of time. There's a new vampire in town and he's dangerous and you need to let me do my job here."

Joyce looked in her daughter's eyes. She knew Buffy was lying about her shoulder, just the latest lie in a series of them that stretched back…how far? How long since the day her daughter confided in her that she had these powers and this calling and this amazing gift and that it was her responsibility, her duty to stop the tide of evil that rose up, sometimes, threatening to engulf the world? She and Buffy's father had Buffy committed to an asylum, that day…and Buffy had never confided in her again. And Joyce had never forgiven herself.

It had cost Joyce her marriage, eventually: a piece at a time, she had lost her husband to it…to the Slayer.

The day she found out Buffy was a Slayer, the day she saw her kill a vampire right in front of her and she had no choice left but to believe it, she knew she couldn't keep her daughter to herself anymore. She had to share her now; she had to share her with a whole world that it was Buffy's responsibility to protect.

"Mom…" Buffy said, groaning a little, and rolling her eyes. "What did I tell you about getting all After School Special? And where's Giles?"

Joyce smiled. She remembered acting the exact same way around her own mother, when she was Buffy's age. You're seventeen, and free…and then one day you're forty, and you have a daughter, and she has a power over you that you never thought anything could. "I know, parents are such a drag, aren't they?" Joyce said. "Giles is bringing some things in from the cab."

"I love you too," Buffy said, with a little smile. "And that concludes this week's very special episode of 'Buffy, Slayer of Vampires'. Tune in next week when Buffy confronts peer pressure." Buffy walked out the door to help Giles, and Joyce looked around the room for the first time.

"Hello, Xander," Joyce said with a smile. "Why is Willow floating on the floor with her eyes closed?" Joyce noticed the gun, and knew then what happened to Buffy's shoulder. She made herself keep smiling anyway.

Joyce's eyes lit on Faith. "Hello," she said, looking at Faith curiously. "You must be Faith. Rupert says you're a Slayer too, like my daughter."

"Please," Joyce said, and sat next to Faith on the bed. "Call me Joyce. I already feel like you're the sister Buffy never had growing up."

"Uh…thanks," Faith said. Faith felt uncomfortable around Joyce, but she didn't know why. "Uh…who's Rupert?"

"I am," Giles said, walking into the room with Buffy. Buffy carried a crate into the room, and set it down on the bed. "Rupert Giles. I'm Buffy's Watcher. I've heard quite a lot about you, Faith. It's a pleasure to meet you."

He was looking at her. Scrutinizing her. Faith recognized the look. He was looking at her the same way Rebecca had, the day they first met.

"Trick finds people for Kakistos," Buffy said. "He uses computers to get their personal info. Addresses, phones, cars, the works. It's how he found Faith, he had all her Watcher's info. You guys aren't safe at home."

"Bloody computers," Giles said. "I keep warning people about computers. No one ever listens."

"Who's this, Faith?" Joyce said, picking up the photo of Gwen from the nightstand. "Is this your sister? She's beautiful."

It was too much. Giles and Buffy's mother and now Gwen…Faith felt everyone's eyes on her. She had to get out of there.

"Uh…hey, you know what? I'm just gonna go hop in the shower real quick and put some clothes on," Faith said.
Faith grabbed some clothes from the bureau and the closet and practically ran into the bathroom.

When she got in there and the door was shut safely behind her she leaned over the sink, and just let herself breathe for awhile.

Buffy waited for the sound of the shower running before she spoke. "Faith's had it tough, Mom," she said, quietly. "Her Watcher was killed. Faith saw it happen. I guess they were real close, too. The vamp we're after is the one who did it." She took Gwen's photograph from her mother, and looked at it.

"That's…that's terrible," Joyce said. "That poor girl. "Where are her parents?"

"Faith…ran away," Buffy said. "I don't know where her parents are." Buffy realized she already knew more about Faith than Faith would have liked. She decided to keep what Giles had told her about Faith's mother to herself.

"I looked up Rebecca's file after you left last night," Giles said. "She had one daughter, Gwendolyn. She was killed by vampires ten years ago, when she was six. Along with Rebecca's husband."

Buffy looked at Gwen again. Gwen was a beautiful young girl, with blonde hair and dark, piercing blue eyes.

"Faith doesn't have much," Xander said, looking around at the cheap room. "Why do you think she kept the picture?"

You do have a Watcher, right? Buffy heard herself say, in the cemetery. Or is that something else you're screwing up? Not that your Watcher's done such a bang-up job. She remembered the look in Faith's eyes, when she said it.

They heard the shower turn off. Faith walked back in a few minutes later in her broken-in jeans and her tee-shirt, with her game face on and a swagger in her step.

"Nothin' like a nice hot shower to start the day off. Especially since vamps don't smell so good. Okay, so, Giles, right?" Faith said, pointing at Giles as she sat on the edge of the bed and put on her boots. "So what's up with the box? You bring me a present?"

Giles opened the crate. There was a flamethrower inside, along with bundles of dynamite, and two swords. "As a matter of fact, I did," he said, and pulled out the swords. "I see you already found a sword for yourself, but these are better. These are katanas, Japanese swords. In the hands of an expert they are devastating blades." He handed the swords to Buffy and Faith. They looked them over, getting a feel for them in their hands. "Xander can explain the rest."

"Flamethrower, dynamite," Xander said. "Dynamite comes with remote detonators. It's all stuff we grabbed from the local army base last year. With Kakistos being all grumpy and unstakable, it might come in handy."

"It bothered me too," Buffy said. "Especially the part where I was getting my ass kicked."

"What I mean is, it shouldn't be possible," Giles said. "It goes against everything we know about vampires. It goes against all the established lore."

"I wonder," Giles said. "I've done a bit of research. Not much is known about Kakistos, but we do know that he is very old, perhaps the oldest living vampire in the world. He has cloven hooves for hands and feet. Other ancient vampires – the Master, for example – have mutated as the years go by, becoming more bestial in appearance. I wonder if perhaps there are other aspects to these mutations. Such as, for example, tougher skin. Or perhaps, if Kakistos' heart itself was thicker than normal, an ordinary stake might not be enough to kill him."

"Hold up, B, I get what he's sayin'," Faith said. "Becca always told me the same thing – wooden stake to the heart kills a vamp, no exceptions. And she knew about Kakistos. If there was something special about him that he really couldn't be staked, you can bet Becca would have known about it, Becca was always on the ball. No way something like that would get by her. Maybe his heart is so old and thick and tough now that we just need a bigger hunk of wood to get to it."

"It's something to keep in mind, at least," Giles said. "But these swords are your best option now. No vampire can survive beheading, I don't care how bloody old he is. And he won't be very pleased with that flamethrower either."

"I'm sure pleased with it though," Faith said, and pulled the flamethrower out of the crate and examined it. "You know just what a girl wants, G-Man."

"There was this magic spell last Halloween, our costumes sorta took over our minds and gave us weird new memories," Xander said. "So Buffy ended up as this Victorian lady and Willow ended up as the ghost of, uh, a dead prostitute…"

"Hold up. Will dressed as a prostitute?" Faith said. "Seems a little out there for Will."

"Nah, she just wore this sort of sexy outfit," Buffy said. "My fault, I wanted her to show herself off a little, so I took her out shopping to get something a little wild, and she ended up wearing this short skirt and a crop top. And she looked pretty but she was all embarrassed and a little freaked out, so she put a bedsheet on over it and went out as a ghost. Add a dash of annoying magic and presto, instant ghost of a dead prostitute."

"She was just so cute," Xander said. "She was the cutest dead prostitute ever. Uh…that didn't come out right."

"And I got to wear a corset and totally not know how to fight anymore," Buffy said. "And I was suddenly scared to death of vampires. Worst holiday ever. Even worse than last Christmas when we got all the zombies."

"Anyway I dressed as this army guy, and suddenly I had all these army memories," Xander said. "Like how rocket launchers work, and the codes to get into the supply depot at the local base. The memories stuck even after we returned to normal, so sometimes I still say stuff like "reconnoiter". The annoying thing is I was gonna go out as James Bond, but the tux rental place was closed. I could've had James Bond memories. James Bond memories."

"Count your blessings, Xander," Willow said, and blew out the candles and stood up. "You still got to be an army guy and pick up all those cool army skills. Me? When you're a crack addict prostitute, well, let's not even talk about the skills I picked up. Hi, Giles, Mrs. Summers. What are you guys doing here?"

"Trick's a computer nerd," Buffy said. "It's how they tracked Faith, he had all her Watcher's info."

"Anyway until we corral Trick it's not safe for my Mom or Giles to stay at their houses, for all we know Trick knows where they live," Buffy said. "Did the spell work? Did you find him?"

"Wait," Xander said. "I want to hear more about the skills Willow picked up last Halloween first."

"Being skanky isn't as much fun as it looks in the movies," Willow said. "Just say no to drugs, kids."

Willow held up the map of Sunnydale and pointed at a spot near the northwest corner. There was a tiny pinpoint of light there. "Trick is right there," she said. "I got a pretty clear vision of the place too, it's this really run-down old warehouse near the docks. Hey, are there any blueberry muffins left? I'm totally jonesing for a blueberry muffin. Those things are like crack! Um…I mean…I'm gonna stop talking now."

"Okay," Buffy said, and passed Willow a blueberry muffin. "So here's the dealie-o. It's not safe to go home and motels can't keep vamps out. So I found a place to stash you all. Once Faith and I take the vamps down we'll come get you."

Buffy put her hands on Willow's shoulders. "Will, you know how you always say we're best friends no matter what, and you never carry grudges?" she said. "Not even after that time I borrowed your favorite sweater and got that stain on it and the cleaners could never get it out?"

"I really liked that sweater," Willow said. "And are you ever gonna give me my blouse back?"

Willow burst out laughing. "Right! Cordy! Oh sure, like I'm gonna fall for that one! I know what happened, I was all being trancey and you guys were like, 'Hey, let's play a joke on Willow when she wakes up'. Cordy. As if! So come on, Buffy, seriously…where are we going?"

"I can't believe you're making us stay with Cordy," Willow said, doing her scowly face at Buffy with her arms folded across her chest and looking every bit as menacing as a baby panda bear. They all sat around the map on the bed, waiting for the cab to arrive and trying to come up with a plan.

"She can be," Buffy said. "And she is, on a regular basis. I've been tempted to stake her before. But I think she's experimenting with niceness today, so if you guys wanna use her pool she said it's fine."

"See, Willow?" Joyce said, and patted Willow's arm. "It'll be okay. I'm sure if you got to know Cordelia better you'd find she's just as nervous about seeing you as you are about seeing her. It's not easy being one of the popular girls at school, you know. I was popular, and I always thought a lot of people judged me without ever trying to get to know me."

"Mom, you know how I'd do bad stuff when I was a kid and it annoyed you and you'd send me up to my room and not let me watch Beverly Hills 90210?" Buffy said. "If Cordy was your daughter you would have sold her to a pack of traveling gypsies. This planet isn't big enough for the two of you. Okay, so Trick is in a warehouse by the docks. How does that help us?"

"A big loud fight shouldn't attract too much attention out there at least," Faith said. "Will, you said you got a good look at the place. It's real old, right? What's it made of? We got a flamethrower and dynamite. Think we can torch it?"

"Yup," Willow said. "Lots of wood. Judging from what I saw the place would go up really quick."

"Okay, that's an idea," Buffy said. "We know Trick's there, but the question is, will we find Kakistos with him. If we have to go looking for Kakistos it changes the game plan."

"Plan for your enemy's capabilities, not for what you think he might do," Faith said. Faith noticed Giles was watching her.

"Something Becca always told me," Faith said. "Don't try to predict where the bad guy's gonna move, just be ready for any kind of move he can make. That way you keep all the bases covered. So for all we know Kakistos is off somewhere taking some R and R after Willow toasted him. But he could be in that warehouse with Trick, and we need to be ready for that."

"Kakistos is the big fish," Buffy said. "But we'll have to be careful with Trick too, he likes to use guns."

"We'll scout the place out," Faith said. "If Kakistos is there we'll go in hard and fast. We could use the dynamite and the flamethrower, nuke the place. If we block their exits we can make sure that when they run they run smack into us. I don't care how tough they are, they won't last long against us in the daylight."

"If it's just Trick we can play it sneaky," Buffy said. "Go in and grab him and squeeze him until he tells us where Kakistos is."

"Or another way to go is, they must have cars," Faith said. "The dynamite comes with remotes. If Kakistos is there we stick the dynamite in their cars, torch the warehouse, and when they burn rubber out of there, boom. Maybe Kakistos can survive his car blowing up but I bet he'll be nice and tenderized at least."

"Hey, thanks, G-Man," Faith said. "Yeah, she was. And hey, when this is all over? You and me are gonna talk weapons."

"I call you impressive all the time," Giles said. "Just not when you're in the room."

"You also call me intractable, insubordinate, rash and willful," Buffy said. "And I only know what three of those mean."

"They all mean you're a very stubborn girl," Joyce said. "Now where could you have picked that up from?"

"Cab," she said. "I'll check it out." She shoved her stake in her back pocket, and walked out the door.

"We're good," she said, when she returned a minute later. "Cabbie's not a vamp, no one else in the car. Checked underneath and in the trunk too."

"Okay, guys," Buffy said, as they all stood up. "We should be there to pick you up later today. Just enjoy the pool and try not to hate me."

"You come back," Joyce said, as she hugged Buffy goodbye. "You come back to me. I won't forgive you if you don't come back to me."

Faith stood there, looking down at her Doc Marten boots, and up at the horrible painting, and then at an indeterminate spot on the wall near the window, as Buffy hugged Willow and Xander and Giles. These people were Buffy's family, Buffy's friends, Buffy's Watcher…not hers.

The hug took Faith by surprise, and she didn't know what to do…and then she found herself hugging Willow back.

"You come back too, Faith," Willow said. "I just made a new friend. I'm not gonna lose her now."

It was like someone stuck a "Hug Me" sign on Faith's back after that. Joyce hugged her, and looked down at her and smiled. "I want you to come to the house for dinner when this is over," Joyce said. "Do you like meat loaf?"

Xander looked at Faith sheepishly. "So, uh…do I get a hug too?" he said. "I likes me some hugs."

"Sure, what the hell," Faith said, and smiled, and hugged him. "I'm runnin' a special on hugs today."

"I would give you some words of encouragement, but you don't need them," Giles said. "I know Rebecca trained you well. If you and Buffy remember your training and work as a team there is absolutely no doubt in my mind you'll destroy this creature." He smiled, that little winsome smile he had that showed off his dimples. "And then you and I are going to talk weapons," he said.

"Let's get to it," Buffy said, and they stuffed all the weapons back into the crate, grabbed the map of Sunnydale, and walked out with them into the sun. When she saw Giles' car Faith said, "What the hell is that thing?"

Buffy handed Faith the keys with a smile, and Faith walked to the driver's side door. Except it was the passenger side door. The steering wheel was on the wrong side of the car. "What's the steering wheel doing over there?" Faith said.

"I don't know if they were all made like this or Giles just got some kind of special British option," Buffy said. "But in England everyone drives on the left. I think they do it just to aggravate America. I think they're still pissed off about the American Revolution. I know Giles is."

Faith shrugged her shoulders, opened the passenger door for Buffy, and got in the other side. "This thing automatic?" she said.

"Manual," Buffy said, as she got in and threw the crate in the back seat. "You can do manual?"

"This is…a personal question. I don't…I probably don't even have a right to ask this. And you don't have to answer me if you don't want to."

Faith noticed Buffy was looking away from her. Faith had no idea what was on Buffy's mind, but it was definitely something that made her uncomfortable.

And then Faith finally understood…everything fell into place, and it all made sense. She knew then why she and Buffy had gotten off to such a bad start in the cemetery. It wasn't the argument over the two vampires.

Her scent had been on Willow, because she had held her close for a long time in the car, when Willow was scared…and of course, Buffy had smelled it.

"Yeah," Faith said. "I got there just in time. One of the fuckers had her down on her knees and they were about to get started. And she was freaking, Buffy, she was scared. I don't mean just while it was happening, but after too. She tried to hide it, but she was pretty shaky. After I dusted the vamps I kept my eye on her, y'know? She looked like she was holding a bunch of stuff in, but maybe it needed to come out. I hotwired a car because I wanted to find you in a hurry, but Will was all still shaky. So I kept my eye on her. Anyway she's got guts, y'know? She was all scared and freaked out still, I could tell she was, but all she was thinking about was you. After I told her about Kakistos she was all about going to find you. But she was scared, Buffy. Those vamps, they were rough with her."

"So anyway after a couple minutes in the car she suddenly starts shaking really bad, so I pulled over," Faith said. "She had to let it out, y'know? I told her it was okay, that I was there for her, that I wouldn't leave. I told her those guys were dust, and no one could hurt her anymore now that I was with her. And she started crying…and we hugged. She was all shaky and crying and stuff and she just put her arms around me and held onto me real tight. She was real scared still and I held her for awhile, until she stopped shaking and she was okay again. That's why you smelled us on each other. And that's all that happened Buffy, I promise. She just needed someone right then, and I know you would've been her first choice. But I was there."

"Well…they hit her once or twice I think, before I got there," Faith said. "She had a bloody nose and a bruise on her face. But that's it. She was okay."

"Buffy," Faith said, and turned to face her, and put her hand on her shoulder. "She's okay, honey. Will's okay."

"Motherfuckers," Buffy said, her lips trembling now, as more tears ran down her cheeks. "Those motherfuckers."

"Nothing happened to her, Buffy," Faith said. "They didn't have a chance to do anything. I got there in time. They're all dust now, honey. They're dust."

"I should've been there," Buffy said. "I left her alone. I left her all alone and they…they almost…"

Buffy smashed her fist through the glove compartment, crumpling it like tinfoil, and started to cry.

"I'm supposed to be there!" Buffy screamed. "I'm the Slayer and I'm supposed to be there! She almost died! She almost…they almost…"

Faith caressed Buffy's hair, as she held her. She felt warm again…the warm feeling in her stomach was back, the one only Buffy gave her.

"No, honey," Faith said. "It wasn't your fault. Will made a bad move, okay? She made a bad move, going there by herself, and she knows it, she knows she screwed up. You can't be everywhere at once. She knows she should've called you. From now on she'll be more careful, she'll call you when she wants to go to that magic store, and nothing like this will ever happen again. Okay?"

Buffy nodded. She noticed that Faith's scent was strong at the back of her neck, just below her ear. Buffy moved her head so her nose was pressed right up against that spot.

"So you're like, the hug girl, huh?" Buffy said, and smiled. "You just breeze into town and give everybody hugs."

"It's one of my Slayer powers," Faith said. "I got like, super hugs. They make everything all better."

She breathed in Faith's scent. She didn't want to move. She wanted to stay right there.

"Sorry I'm being such a weirdo," Buffy said, with a smile. Faith noticed Buffy was blushing. "I probably had too much sugar today."

"It's cool, B," Faith said. "Uh, hope G-Man wasn't too fond of that glove compartment."

Buffy laughed. "I've sort of been wrecking his car a piece at a time for a year now," she said. "But the car's evil and French. It's an evil French car."

Buffy giggled. "What?" she said, as if it was the most ridiculous question Faith could possibly have asked. "Can I give you the biggest no ever? I mean, hello, not gay over here. And Willow isn't either. That's…why I was so freaked out before. I mean, Willow likes guys and then all of a sudden it seemed like she was maybe getting busy with some girl she just met. It was weird and I guess it just freaked me out a little."

"Sure, I can see that," Faith said. She knew Buffy was lying. Maybe Buffy and Willow weren't a couple. But Faith knew Buffy liked girls whether she was admitting it or not…and she knew Buffy liked Willow, whether she was admitting it or not. Maybe Willow was straight. But that didn't mean Buffy couldn't be jealous…

Maybe Buffy knew she could never have Willow that way, maybe she hadn't even admitted to herself that she wanted Willow that way. But Faith figured Buffy wasn't willing to let any other girl have her, either.

"Um…but hey, if you're…um…that way? I don't have a problem with it," Buffy said, and smiled. "This is California after all."

"I drive stick, remember?" Faith said, and smiled. "Stop tryin' to get busy with me."

"Okay, now that we agree that we're both totally not gay we better get going," Buffy said. "Kakistos and Trick aren't gonna stake themselves."

"Time for me to demonstrate my awesome stick handling skills," Faith said with a sly grin, and started the car.

"He's a nice guy, but I got someone back in Boston. But hey, I'd take the G-Man out for a test drive."

"You've met Giles, right? You understand that Giles was the guy with the glasses and the English accent in the motel room?"

"At least you didn't do that thing where you put it in reverse by mistake like in the movies," Buffy said.

"Then the engine backfires like a shotgun," Faith said, and grinned. "Okay, Faith drives the frigging French car, take two."

Faith looked out the window at everything as she drove. She liked new places; whenever Rebecca took her somewhere new it always made her excited. Sunnydale was hilly but the buildings were mostly flat; low one-story houses in bright colors that looked very strange to a girl from Boston. Boston was skyscrapers and stately old Back Bay townhouses; it was granite and concrete, and cold, windswept streets. Boston towered above you, looked down on you. Everything in Sunnydale was just the opposite: low and sprawling, horizontal where Boston was vertical, wood and stucco in bright colors instead of Boston's brick and stone, and it was warm when Boston was cold. Palm trees dotted the streets downtown, and there were mountains in the distance, and everything was splashed with sun from a clear blue sky.

The streets were more alive here, the sky was a brighter blue, everything was more vibrant. Boston was strangely muted by comparison. Boston had stood for centuries; it seemed to have been drained of color, over the years. You felt the weight of its history. Boston was old. But Sunnydale was new.

"I still can't believe you're crushing on my Watcher," Buffy said, checking the map. "Take a left at the next light, you brazen hussy."

"What planet are you from again?" Buffy said, shaking her head. "Have you come to our world to study this mysterious concept we humans call love?"

"I'm from Planet Beantown, baby," Faith said. "I'm still trying to figure out your strange West Coast ways. Thinkin' about buyin' a surf board."

As Faith took her turn at the light they passed a black transvestite standing on the corner with yellow hair and yellow lipstick wearing a bright orange dress and platform heels who could have played power forward for the Lakers. Boston didn't have anything like that either. Especially not at eight in the morning.

"Okay, we're five minutes out," Buffy said, checking the map. "It's a good bet they know what kind of car Giles drives, so we should hide it."

"I still say it's a go cart with a fancy body on top, and I'm not even kidding," Faith said. "We'll stash the thing and, uh, reconnoiter on foot."

"Glad we got the crate to lug the weapons around in," Faith said. "Two gals walking down the street carrying a flamethrower and dynamite in their hands would have looked a little suspicious. But then I thought that drag queen back there looked pretty suspicious, so what do I know."

Faith crouched on the roof of the old warehouse in her socks, so she could be as quiet as possible. She held a katana in her hand.

Trick sat in front of a computer set up on an old wooden roll top desk on the floor of the warehouse. Faith watched him through a dirty little skylight.

Trick was going to die for what he did to Rebecca. Faith was going to see to that.

She needed it. Watching him through the skylight, she felt like she needed to kill him more than she had ever needed anything in her life. Her hand moved to the stake in her back pocket. She imagined how it would feel, penetrating his chest, slicing through the meat, until it reached the heart, and popped it like a balloon. She could jump down through the skylight right now and do it…

Faith smiled. She hadn't heard Buffy's approach. If the wind hadn't shifted she wouldn't have known Buffy was there at all. The girl was good.

"Hey," Buffy said quietly, and crouched down barefoot beside Faith, carrying the other katana. "I checked all around, Special K's not in there. What's Tricky doing?"

"Still gettin' his geek on," Faith whispered back. They both knew vampires had very sensitive hearing. "What about exits?"

"Okay, if it's just Trick I don't think we need to get too fancy. How about you go around back, I walk in the front. He runs, no way he gets by both of us."

The two most dangerous predators on Earth looked down at Trick through the dirty skylight, baring their teeth. Savoring a fresh kill.

Their humanity was far away, now. There was no room for it: they were traveling light. They only took what they needed on the hunt. They were strong and fast and hard and lethal and they reveled in their power. They knew their prey wouldn't escape them. But they hoped it would at least try.

They were aware of their humanity, peripherally. They knew it was still there somewhere. But it seemed unimportant; a complicated, monotonous, hopelessly mundane thing next to the lush, vivid world that was opened up to them now. It wouldn't have mattered to either of them at that moment if they lost their humanity forever. It was a burden, and it was so much better to travel light…

Buffy loved Faith's scent. She loved being close to it. Faith's scent made Buffy feel like she'd found something…something that belonged to her, that she had somehow lost for a time without even knowing it.

There was a connection, a physical connection, when they were together: it had been there in the cemetery and the motel room and Buffy felt it again now, like a warmth that suffused her whole body.

Buffy's heart beat faster as she looked down at her prey. Energy exploded through her in anticipation of the hunt. She felt like running a marathon. She felt like dancing. She needed a good, long fucking. She thought about Angel, then stopped herself. He was too complicated, too tangled up in her humanity; he was part of the boring, colorless world she had set aside. Buffy much preferred the vivid world she found herself in now: the world of the hunt.

Faith liked Buffy. She liked the way she smelled and she liked her voice and she liked the warm feeling that she got when they were together, like being in bed under the blankets on a winter morning. She liked that Buffy was crouched very close to her now, their bodies almost touching. She couldn't believe she had disliked Buffy before; all those feelings of anger and resentment and wounded pride seemed a million miles away, seemed like someone else's life. Those feelings were buried deep down now, along with all the other trivial, unimportant details of her human life. They were Slayers. Not one single other thing mattered.

Faith looked at Buffy's legs. She liked Buffy in that skirt. She liked her without her boots on.

Then Faith looked down at Trick, and felt her heart in her chest. Energy pulsed through her; she nearly trembled with it. She wanted to leap, and scream, and roar like a lion. She gripped her sword so hard she thought she might break it.

Buffy and Faith looked at each other, inches away, and inhaled each other's scent, and felt the connection: the connection that no one else in the world could ever share.

They both let the moment pass. They were afraid of it, a little. Each was afraid that she alone felt it, and the other didn't.

"One thing before we get started," Faith whispered back. "Get your licks in, smack Trick around all you want, smack K around when we catch up with him too. I know Trick shot you and K beat you up some and you owe them for that. But I owe them more, so the kills are mine. For what they did to Becca, the kills belong to me."

"I get to hurt Trick, before you dust him. And I want a piece of Kakistos. You can have him, but I still need a piece. He hurt Willow and he needs to find out why that's bad."

"Gonna hold you to that," Buffy whispered, and showed Faith her backside, and stalked away as silently as a cat.

"Hey Trick," Faith said, stalking out of the darkness behind him in her socks, a sword in each hand. "How's tricks?"

Trick was fast. He jumped out of his chair, spun around and pulled a gun from inside his coat without missing a beat.

Faith was faster. She threw her rapier straight through Trick's hand before he could even take aim. He screamed and dropped the gun, and before he could pick it up again, Buffy was suddenly standing behind him. She snatched the gun from the floor and pointed it at his chest. He froze.

"Hey, Tricky, miss me? Oh, that's right," Buffy said, and pointed to her shoulder. "You didn't."

Faith moved up beside Buffy. "Dyin' ain't much of a livin', boy," she said to Trick, and smiled.

"Eastwood western," Faith said. "Clint said it to this bounty hunter guy who was after him just before he shot his bounty huntin' ass."

"Got that right, baby," Buffy said, and shot Trick six times, emptying the gun. The gun was a .44 magnum and each shot sent Trick flying backwards. He finally collapsed like a marionette with its strings cut, coughing up blood.

"Hey, this thing's kinda neat," Buffy said, twirling the gun around and practicing quick draws. "Am I a bad person for liking this? Do I have to vote Republican now?"

"Yeah, probably, but they'd love your pretty ass in Texas. Know what? Dirty Buffy. I'm callin' you Dirty Buffy from now on."

"C'mon, don't make me blush now, honey," Faith said, and threw Buffy her sexiest smile.

Faith wondered if she and Buffy meant what they were saying. How far were they going to take this? Faith felt out of control, like she was saying things without thinking…like she was drunk. She knew it was Buffy's scent that was doing this to her. Being so close to it, Faith needed all of her self-control not to take Buffy in her arms and kiss her.

"Hey Trick, you feelin' lucky, punk?" Faith said, staring down at Trick and showing him her teeth.

"I don't think Tricky's feeling lucky," Buffy said. "I think he's all sad now. I think he's pouting."

"He sure doesn't look too good. But you know what the problem here is? We haven't beat on him at all. The gun was cool but…"

"Right there with you, girlfriend," Buffy said, and walked toward Trick. But Trick suddenly sprang to his feet, his face changing to vampire form, and roared at them.

"C'mon Tricky," Buffy said, and tossed the gun away, and spread her hands, and smiled. "Let's see those oats."

Trick leaped at Buffy, growling like a dog. He still had Faith's rapier sticking through his hand. But the leap was slow and awkward and Buffy easily avoided it; she stepped out of the way and Faith batted Trick out of the air with her katana, carving a good chunk out of him. He fell to the floor, screaming.

"Maybe he really is a computer nerd," Buffy said. "And I did kinda just shoot him six times." Buffy moved to Trick's desk, one of the few furnishings in the huge, mostly empty room. The small desk lamp was the only source of light; the windows on the upper floor of the warehouse were too covered with grime to let much sun in. She looked at his computer screen. He had an AOL account. She smiled.

"Or maybe it was five," Buffy said. "To tell you the truth, in all this excitement, I've kinda lost track myself." Faith giggled.

"Thought you weren't into Clint?" Faith said, and stepped on Trick's hand and pulled her rapier out of it. Trick screamed. Faith looked down at him and kicked him in the face. "Shut the fuck up, asshole, we're talkin' here," Faith said.

Trick tried to stand. He had a nasty diagonal slash running from his chest down to his waist, marring a very expensive suit.

"Shit," Faith said again. "He's got nothin' left. Now I'm all frustrated." She kicked him in the face again and he went sailing toward Buffy. Buffy plucked him out of the air and threw him to the floor before he could crash into the computer; she had a feeling the computer would be useful.

"Hmm. I think Tricky needs some dental work," Buffy said. She picked Trick up, dragged him over to a nearby metal support beam, and smashed his face into it. He bounced off it with a clang that echoed through the warehouse and sounded just like one of those old cartoons where an anvil lands on someone's head. Buffy and Faith both giggled.

Buffy let Trick go and he hit the floor like a wet sack. She looked around, and noticed a bloody tooth nearby. Trick looked delirious.

"Hey Tricky, Tooth Fairy owes you a quarter," Buffy said, picking up the tooth and throwing it back in his face. She walked back to his desk and looked at his computer again. "Let's see if we can get it up to seven-fifty. Or you can always talk to us about your old pal, Special K."

"You're not gonna beat on him some more first?" Faith said, and strolled over to Buffy. Buffy was leaning back against the desk, and her skirt had hiked up. Faith looked at her legs, and made no effort to hide the fact that she was looking. "You goin' soft on me, girlfriend?" Fuck it, Faith thought. If I like girls then I'm gonna like girls. Starting with this one.

"Nah, I just thought I'd let the big bad vamp make a speech," Buffy said, and sat in Trick's chair and put her feet up on the desk. Her skirt hiked up even more as she did it. She was showing Faith her legs. She couldn't believe she was doing that, but she was. She noticed Faith didn't seem to mind. "All these extra special super-bad vamps just love making with the speeches first. It always just fills me with dread."

"Hey Trick, you wanna make a speech?" Faith said, grabbing him by the neck, standing him up, and moving her ear close to his mouth. "What's that? Can't hear you." Trick was nearly unconscious.

Faith shrugged her shoulders and smashed Trick's face into the support beam again. His nose broke, and blood spurted out of it. She giggled at that, and so did Buffy. It was funny. It was like a day at the circus. She dropped him to the floor. He lay perfectly still, face-down. "Christ, he's out cold already," she said. "Say what you want about K, at least he can throw down. I'm all frustrated now."

"Computer nerds have their uses," Buffy said. She brought up the computer's e-mail program. "Any more teeth?"

"Tooth Fairy needs to pony up seventy-five cents now," Faith said, turning Trick over and looking at his mouth.

"Well, we're getting there," Buffy said, leaning back in the chair and waving her sword around aimlessly. "Faith, take a message."

"Yes, ma'am," Faith said, with a big grin. "You want I should bring you your coffee first? Or like, uh, quarterly reports or something?"

"I got something you can do for me," Buffy said, stretching her legs out some more. "But first the message."

Buffy blushed a little; she couldn't believe she had just said that. It was the strangest feeling…she felt drunk. It was Faith, she knew. Her scent…hunting together like this, being so close…it was intoxicating. She was losing herself…

"Message reads," Buffy began, smiling down at Trick. "There are two kinds of vamps. You got your regular loser vamps, and then there are the vamps who think they're all that. Now you haven't been a Slayer too long yet, Faith, but you'll find that vamps who think they're all that, like Special K and our man Tricky, are really a dime a dozen, especially on a Hellmouth. And the big thing they do is, they make speeches. They go on and on about their big plans, and…" She looked over at Trick again. He still wasn't moving. "Is he still asleep? Secretary Faith, wake him up. Time for a vamp to hear my big speech."

"Yes, ma'am," Faith said, and grabbed Trick and stood him up again. He was unconscious.

"He's done," Faith said. "He's not even trying to fight anymore. Shaft my ass. More like Urkel. Hey Trick, Boss B's making a speech. You better listen up or I'll get grumpy."

"Thank you, secretary Faith," Buffy said. "So, yeah, the vamps who think they're all that really like talking about their big plans. Like, for instance, our man Tricky here of the snazzy suits and the fabulous shoes, who cornered Will and me in the cemetery with a bunch of vamps and started talking about how he's all cool and East Coast and how my skirt was a bold fashion choice and blah blah blah whatever. Oh, and the speech-making vamps are further subdivided into two groups, the quippy speechmakers and the self-important speechmakers."

"And Trick's quippy," Buffy said. "They make a good team. So Trick was all, 'Hey, you're obviously Buffy Summers and look how cool I am that I know who you are and check out my cool suit and blah blah blabbity-blah'. And the funny thing is? All these big bad super-vamps I've run into over the years, who make all these speeches and think they know Slayers? Who think they know me?"

She got up, pulled Trick away from Faith and stabbed him through the heart with her sword. He gasped, and made a squealing sound. "You don't fucking know me," Buffy snarled, in Trick's face. "If you did you'd all run home to your fucking mommies."
She wrenched the sword out of his heart, and he gurgled and spit up blood, and fell to his knees at her feet. Buffy looked down at him.

Faith's eyes were on Buffy; she watched Buffy from her head down to her toes as Trick knelt bleeding at Buffy's feet. Buffy felt it; she felt Faith's eyes caressing every inch of her. She liked the feeling.

Buffy picked Trick up by the throat, wiped her sword on his suit, and looked him in the eyes. Trick was dead weight in her hands.

"Banter," Buffy said. "Trick's smart. He's way into big words. I bet he even knows what 'intractable' means."

"You sure he's smart?" Faith said. "Pissing me and you off doesn't seem too smart to me."

Buffy lifted Trick up by the neck and looked him in the eyes again. "You vamps think you're scary?" she said. "You think you're the monsters? That's only because you haven't seen the monster I've got in me. THREATEN MY FRIENDS?! THREATEN MY FAMILY?!"

With a roar, she smashed him across the face with a backhand that sent him flying across the room and crashing into a wall thirty feet away.

Faith looked at Trick, lying motionless on the floor, then back at Buffy. She had allowed herself to think Buffy was soft, in the cemetery. Faith would never make that mistake again.

"He won't talk because he knows we're gonna kill him anyway," Buffy said. "He's a creampuff but he's not dumb, and we don't have all day to waste beating on him while he stalls and hopes Special K shows up to bail his undead ass out. Besides, I got it covered." She pointed at the computer screen. AOL's e-mail program was open. "Faith, welcome to the information superhighway, also known as 'What A Bunch of Nerds Think About Star Trek, Plus Porn'."

Faith looked at the computer screen over Buffy's shoulder while keeping one eye on Trick. Trick still wasn't moving. There was an open e-mail message on the screen from 'Kakistos12@aol.com', and a reply being composed to the same address. Faith liked the way Buffy's hair smelled.

"Sad when old guys try to get all cool and with it, huh?" Buffy said, and picked up one of the phones that sat beside the computer. "You take out the trash while I get Will working on backtracking this."

"Yeah, before the magic took off she was computer hacker girl. She broke into France's Defense Department by mistake and went all Matthew Broderick on their asses one night when Xander got her drunk on Cosmopolitans. The French computers got all, 'Would-you-like-to-play-a-game?' and there was almost a nuclear war between France and China. Will denies it, but Xander swears it really happened. Anyway she's always been my secret weapon. Faith…thanks. For what you did for Will. If those vamps had…if you hadn't been there…if I ever lost Will I don't know what I'd do. I owe you, Faith. More than I can ever pay back."

Faith stood over Trick, looking down at him. He lay on the floor, his body riddled with gunshot wounds, his face covered with blood, his torso sliced open, his hand clutched to his chest.

"Gonna take B and me awhile to track Kakistos down," Faith said. "And we don't like to be kept waiting. Nope, we surely do not. We get bored, y'know? And then, well…we get impatient. And then we have to find a way to occupy ourselves. And someone to occupy ourselves with."

She kicked him in the ribs, and felt some of them break. Trick slammed into the wall, and groaned.

"Which makes you our fuckin' piñata," she said. "So you gonna get up or what? Gonna at least take a shot? Look at me."

"I SAID LOOK AT ME!" Faith screamed, and picked him up and smashed him back into the wall. "YOU'RE GONNA FUCKING LOOK AT ME!"

"Christ," Faith said, disgusted. "Even K's got more balls than you, and I cut his off." She picked Trick up again and slammed him back against the wall. He whimpered. She pulled her stake out of her back pocket, and showed it to him.

"Said I'd stick you like a fucking pig someday, Trick," Faith said. "I always keep a promise."

"Got anything to say?" she said. "You were a talkative motherfucker in Boston. Famous last words? Fashion advice? Maybe some badinage? Anything?"

Buffy put her hand on Faith's shoulder, and touched her hair. "Will came through," she said, and pointed to the computer screen. "She backtracked his e-mail and found the computer he's sending from."
"Good," Faith said. "So we can go there and kick the shit out of him. Where's he at?"

"Across town, about twenty minutes from here. But I think there might be a better way to do this. Trick and K have been e-mailing each other…"

"Great minds think alike. I say we bring him here, tell him Trick captured us. Wherever K is now it's his turf and he'll have the advantage there. But if we bring him here we can wire this place to explode right on top of him."

"I like it, but don't say Trick's got both of us, Trick's too much of a pansy to take us both down. Too much of a pansy to take even one of us, but there's no way K believes Trick nabbed us both without any vamp goons backing him up. Say Trick's got me. I'm the one K really wants anyway, he'll come out for me. Say I came here alone looking for Trick and he shot me."

"Makes sense, it's how it could've gone down anyway if you came here alone and he managed to get a shot off. I found something else on his computer too. He's got some program open I didn't recognize. Willow walked me through it. We were right. Trick was tapping our phones. Giles, my Mom."

"Yeah, but he doesn't know where. Turns out Will and I did take out all the hired help last night, Trick's got no men right now. He had no one watching the houses, so when I called Giles and told him to get the hell out of there Trick wasn't able to get there and follow the cab."

"You know that for sure? And what about Will and Xander? Trick have a line on them?"

"I've been reading his e-mails. Trick e-mailed K saying he was looking into recruiting more vamps. And they're worried about Willow, they're a lot more worried about her than they are about us, but they don't know who she is. Xander's not on their radar."

"Lucky for us they don't know she can't just do it whenever she wants. And it turns out K's still hurt. Problem is he might be so hurt that we can't convince him to leave his place. What if he wants Trick to take you out to him?"

"Tell him I can't be moved, that I was shot bad and if they move me I could die. K wants to kill me himself. I don't care how hurt he is, a guy doesn't forget it when you cut his dick and balls off. He'll come out here, no way he leaves me to Trick."

"Okay," Buffy said. "Let's wire this place up and figure out just how we're gonna go at this guy. We should wire the front and back doors, we don't know which entrance he'll use, but that still gives us plenty of bang for our buck. Xander walked me through the remote detonators last year, they're easy. Set the dynamite, press the button, boom. Once we're wired I'll send the e-mail. Then…"

They crawled on their bellies toward the other side of the roof, keeping low. Faith had the flamethrower on her back, and her katana in her hand. Buffy had her katana in one hand and four detonators in the other.

They reached the other side of the roof and were about to climb down the fire escape, when Buffy grabbed Faith's shoulder.

Faith looked back, and saw the SUV parked near the front entrance. Its door was open, and she could see Kakistos inside…along with five other vampires. They all wore heavy hoods and cloaks.

"Still might slow us down some, and we need to be able to concentrate on K. Okay, here's what we'll do. You hit the detonators on schedule. I hop down there and torch the goons with the flamethrower while K's down. Then we both run at K like we planned."

"Where is she, Trick?" Kakistos growled, as he opened the front door of the warehouse and limped inside, and two bundles of dynamite exploded a foot away from him. The explosion collapsed the doorframe and part of the roof, sending it all down on top of him and instantly incinerating one of the vampires who had been about to walk in behind him.

"Right here," Faith said, and strolled right up to the other four vampires from behind and sprayed them with the flame thrower. They burst into flames and ran around screaming for about two seconds, before exploding into dust.

Kakistos shrugged off the rubble and tried to stand. His face was covered with blood and his hood and cloak were gone, leaving him exposed to the sun. His skin, still partially burned from Willow's lightning strike, began to smoke. With a grunt of pain he leaped further into the warehouse to escape the sun, and fell to the floor. As he forced himself to stand again, Buffy ran at him with her katana and sliced his left arm off. He screamed, and tried an awkward punch with his right, but Buffy dodged and spun around behind him as gracefully as a ballerina and sliced his right arm off like it was the easiest thing in the world. Blood spurted from the stumps of his arms, and he fell to the floor again in shock.

The blood continued to flow out from the stumps of his arms, collecting in a pool on the floor. Kakistos became very pale, and he began to shiver.

Kakistos managed to get himself up to his knees, before Faith kicked him in the face and knocked him back down again.

Kakistos struggled back up to his knees again, but he couldn't stand. He had lost too much blood. Faith watched him, silently.

They looked at each other. Kakistos was shivering badly now, and he was nearly unconscious. But Faith could still see the hatred in his eyes. And he smiled…a small smile.

Faith had rehearsed this moment in her mind a hundred times. She always knew just the right thing to say, when she rehearsed it. Just the right last words to send him off to hell with.

And she sliced his head off, and a depraved, malignant thing collapsed into dust…and a reign of brutality and terror that had lasted more than eight-hundred years finally came to an end.

Faith knelt down, in the pile of dust that had been Kakistos…the creature who had defiled and killed the person she loved most in the world.

Buffy knelt down beside her, and hugged her, as the rising sun finally found them.

They were all finally dead. Everyone who had anything to do with what happened to Rebecca was dead.

She didn't feel relieved or happy or even satisfied. She didn't feel anything at all…except the cold thing in her stomach that had been there since she saw Rebecca dying on the floor of the restaurant. The cold thing that she knew now would always be with her, as long as she lived.

Buffy touched her shoulder. "It takes time, Faith, when you lose someone," she said. "Give yourself time."

Buffy leaned out the window, watching the streets pass by. They were downtown. The Exhibition Center was just a few blocks away. Her father used to take her to the Ice Capades there, when she was a little girl. "He didn't die," she said. "He left. One day he just stopped coming around. It was a little after I became the Slayer. My Mom always says they were having problems and it had nothing to do with me, but…I know it's my fault. I know he left because of me. He just…stopped loving me, I guess."

"Yeah," Buffy said. She remembered the hospital where her parents had her committed for two weeks. Blue cinderblock walls, and rooms with metal doors, and shoes without laces. And apple juice with every meal. She hadn't been able to drink apple juice since.

"The fight with Kakistos was too quick, y'know?" Faith said. "I guess…I didn't expect it to be that quick."

"Be thankful for quick," Buffy said, and turned back to her, and pushed the memory of the hospital away. "Kakistos was tough. No way we could have lasted long against him in a straight-up fight."

"So he left you unsatisfied? Wham, bam, thank you ma'am? Aw, poor baby. At least you got the kills. I got bupkiss. Sure, I got some last night, but after everything we've been through today and then not getting any kills, I'm still all…"

"Oh you do, huh?" Buffy said, and crossed her legs. Faith looked at them again. They were good legs, but Buffy's knee-high boots covered up a lot of them. Faith wished Buffy had left the boots off.

Faith didn't know where they were going. She didn't know where they would end up. But they were driving fast and the wind was in her hair, and she couldn't wait to get there. Whatever was at the end of this road, she'd deal with it. If she really did like girls, Faith figured there was only one way to find out.

And then she knew that this must be what the roller coaster feels like. She knew it must feel exactly like this.

"Let's find us some vamps, honey," Faith said. "And then we'll get you taken care of."

He was kicking back on a lounge chair by the Olympic size swimming pool in Cordy's seemingly endless, perfectly landscaped giant golf course of a backyard, drinking lemonade and watching Willow as she dived off the diving board in her cute completely unrevealing one-piece bathing suit with the little polka dots. Giles and Joyce were in the pool, and Joyce kept shouting words of encouragement to Willow; Joyce had apparently been on the swim team in college, and she still had the figure for it. But noticing Joyce's body in that bathing suit made Xander feel a little guilty, so he tried not to. He tried not to notice Giles constantly and obviously flirting with Joyce either, because Giles was old and British and for God's sake he was Giles, and it was just gross.

Giles kept splashing Joyce, and laughing. Xander recalled he used to try that technique on girls too, when he was ten. He hadn't had much luck with it. It was working gangbusters for Giles though.

Willow was laughing too, as Joyce divided her time between losing her splash-fight with Giles, and shouting out helpful hints to her about proper form on the diving board. Willow hadn't actually, technically managed a competent dive yet; more like a series of near-bellyflops. The girl just wasn't aerodynamic. She'd always been a little bit clumsy. Even back when they were kids…

At first, when she had changed into her bathing suit, Xander had been disappointed that it wasn't a bikini. He thought Willow was pretty but she just never seemed to have any interest in showing herself off. A bikini on her would have made his day.

Then he saw her smiling, as she dived into the pool, and he didn't care about bikinis anymore. The smile made his day just fine.

"Mr. Harris? Will there be anything else?" the maid said, suddenly standing above him. Conchita was always appearing out of nowhere. She was like a short, fat, Spanish ninja. She was always just suddenly there. She'd mentioned that Cordy had told her to make sure her guests were well taken care of and wanted for nothing. Just before Cordy went out shopping. It was Cordy's best approximation of politeness. Based on what Cordy imagined politeness must probably be; Xander knew it was a foreign concept to Cordy and she was still wrestling with it.

"Nah, I'm good, Conchita, thanks," Xander said. "Got my lemonade, got my goofy polka-dot diving board girl."

"Miss Rosenberg, she is not a good diver," Conchita said, shaking her head at Willow. Then she looked down at Xander, and smiled. "But very nice girl. And good in other ways, eh?" she said, and winked at him. "Muy bonita."

Visions of bad women in prison movies went through Xander's head. Usually he liked movies about women in prison. But this one had Conchita in it. She was in a cell with Willow and Xander knew which one of them was going to end up doing the other's laundry. He very forcefully and with prejudice dismissed the vision from his head and made sure the vision knew that it was never allowed to come back, ever.

"You should ask her out," Conchita said, and walked back to the house. "Listen to Conchita, she knows."

Cordy had taken off as soon as she possibly could after they arrived and it was a good deal all around: they didn't have to deal with Cordy, and Cordy got to go out and buy shiny things and not try to make polite conversation, something Xander knew from painful experience that Cordy was spectacularly bad at. Still, she did have a way of cutting through the bullshit. The line between blunt and rude is a fuzzy one and Cordy crossed it with regularity and abandon, but she would've found out what happened in the alley. She would've found out by saying, "So what happened in the alley?" Xander knew that's exactly what Cordy would have said.

"Xander!" Willow shouted, laughing, apparently, at something British that Giles had said. Giles was laughing too, not realizing that he was more being laughed at than with; but the fact that he often couldn't tell the difference was one of his more endearing qualities. Joyce was shaking her head at Giles, in that exact way that Buffy always shook her head at Giles.

"Come into the pool!" Willow shouted. Then she did her scowly face, which was, by Xander's estimate, the cutest thing in the entire history of the world. "Don't make me come over there, young man," she said.

Willow jumped out of the pool and walked over to him. She had nice legs. Xander always knew she had nice legs. But for some reason he was more aware of it today…more aware of everything about her today. He held up a towel for her and Willow took it, and dried off her hair, and sat on the lounge chair beside him.

"I'm all like, doing these cool dives for you in my cute little bathing suit and you're over here not even giving me any eye candy," Willow said. "Not fair."

"Your cute non-little, actually very big, bathing suit," Xander said. "And you saw the package when I joined the swim team that time."

"People turning into lizards sorta ruined the mood. So why, y'know, with the mopey? And, hey! You better not be calling me fat."

Xander thought it was a hell of a kiss. In fact, Xander thought it was the best kiss ever. He wondered why he had never kissed Willow before.

The kiss made Xander feel like he'd found something…something that belonged to him, that he had somehow lost for a time without even knowing it.

Faith pulled over and parked. It was still a pain in the ass parking when the steering wheel was on the wrong side of the car, but she was starting to get used to it. She didn't hit anything this time.

They were on a dead end dirt road, at the top of a hill. A few run-down houses dotted the road, low ranch style houses like a lot of the places Faith had seen in Sunnydale, and there were a lot of trees. The other side of the hill meandered through scrub brush and wildflowers down to a little stagnant pond. There were squirrels, and the old-fashioned kind of mailboxes that stood out by the road, and the lawns in front of the houses were all overgrown with weeds.

"There are vamps here?" Faith said, as they got out of the car. The sun was bright, and there were birds singing. "Doesn't look too vampy to me."

"That's how they stayed under my radar," Buffy said. "My bartender tipped me that the place at the top of the hill up there is some kind of vamp drug den, I've been meaning to check it out. The way it works is, people come in, pay some cash, the vamps give them stuff to shoot up with, then the vamps take some of their blood once the stuff's in their system. Everybody gets high, the vamps get a free blood supply, and the civilians get their kicks being drained by vamps without being killed or turned."

Buffy thought back to her fight with Angelus. He had her pinned, and he bit into her neck and began draining her. She remembered how it felt, with him on top of her, taking her…the quick, sharp pain as his fangs penetrated her…the feeling of her blood, steadily coursing out of her body, entering his, and strengthening him…the warm, enervating, numb feeling that spread through her body, and made her want to sleep. He held her down as he drained her, but his grip softened, as she slowly stopped struggling. His rough touch became a caress.

They walked to the top of the hill. The little house there had seen better days: the shingles were falling off and the paint had faded to a streaked, dull gray. There was an old orange Chevy Vega in the front yard, up on cinderblocks. The entrance to the house was a screen door at the top of three cracked wooden steps. The dirty old doormat said, "Bless This House".

"There are supposed to be three vamps who run it, then you have the occasional visiting vamps, plus whatever civilians happen to be around donating blood," Buffy said. "But this time of day, who knows what we'll find in there."

"Hey, I take great dictation, Boss," Faith said. "But if you want 'em all for yourself that's cool. I like to watch too."

"This is a bedroom?" Xander said, when he and Willow walked into Cordy's room. "They could park cars in here."

"You know Cordy," Willow said. "She's just…so you kissed me. I mean, hello? You kissed me."

"Oh…that's…don't worry, no big…" Willow said, and sat down on Cordy's bed, and fidgeted with her hair, twisting it into little loops. "No! I mean…big! Really big! Worry! I want you to be all worried! So you kissed me and you're sorry? And that's supposed to make it…what? Okay? So like, you kissed me and that's…I mean…you kissed me! And now you're sorry? What does that mean? That you didn't like kissing me? That kissing me is bad? That I'm all, the girl you can't kiss? Hey, can't, y'know, ever kiss Willow, because that would just be…"

"Okay, a couple things," Xander said, and sat next to her. "First, all that stuff you just said? Made no sense whatsoever. Second, I'm not sorry I kissed you. I'm sorry if you didn't want me to kiss you. But I liked kissing you and –"

"Kinda, yeah," Willow said. "And then like, the more either of us talks? The less sense we make. Buffy thinks there's a math formula for it. So now what? What are we…what are we doing?"

"Not talking enough,' Xander said, and stood up, and looked at her. He noticed every single thing about her. As if he was seeing her for the first time.

She looked up at him, still twisting her hair into little loops, her legs crossed modestly. She had big, beautiful green eyes. Her eyebrows were raised in that nervous, expectant way she had. Her skin was very pale, and she had freckles on her nose. Her fingers were long and delicate; her feet were small. She had red nail polish on her fingernails and her toenails. Her nipples showed a little against the bathing suit. Her red hair, still wet, fell straight down over her shoulders. She'd been letting it grow lately. She had goosebumps.

She was the most beautiful girl Xander had ever seen. He didn't understand how he had never noticed that before.

The house was dark and hot and stuffy and it smelled like blood. Buffy and Faith were able to detect a medicinal smell as well, presumably the drugs the vampires used. The ceilings were low, cheap vinyl drop ceilings in panels, and the whole house seemed cramped. The floor of the long hallway they found themselves in was covered with a red shag rug, and the long wall was done up in fake wood paneling.

The place smelled like vampires too. But the smell was everywhere, and difficult to pinpoint, even for Buffy and Faith.

And they did, starting with the first room they came across, a living room that looked like it had fallen into a time warp in 1976. There were no vampires in the room, but it was still frightening: there was a black beanbag chair and a white leather couch, and the wallpaper was big, garish white flowers and vines on a black background. The rug was deep red shag, there was a painting of a little girl with gigantic, exaggerated eyes on the wall that was even worse than the painting in Faith's motel, and an honest-to-God lava lamp stood in the corner. The coffee table was rectangular white translucent plastic. An ashtray shaped like the Rolling Stones' "tongue" logo stood on top of it, filled to the brim with cigarette butts. The room's token gesture to modernity was a television set on a cheap stand with a Sega Genesis videogame system hooked up to it.

There was a small extra bedroom off the living room behind a bead curtain; when they checked it out they found bunk beds, drug paraphernalia, an ironing board and someone's videogame collection, but still no vampires. They walked back down the long hallway and found another bedroom leading off of it. A pretty vampire who looked like she belonged back in the living room with the lava lamp was brushing her long, blonde hair in front of the mirror. She cast no reflection, but she was high enough that little details like that weren't a problem for her right now. She was barefoot on the omnipresent red shag rug, wearing faded bellbottom jeans and an Abba tee-shirt. Every inch of her seemed covered with jewelry; each of her fingers had a big, gaudy ring on it, she had at least three bracelets on each wrist, her neck practically bent under the weight of her beads, and gold hoop earrings dangled from her ears.

There was a big poster of a unicorn taped to one wall, and a massive sound system with four-foot high speakers took up the other wall, with a stack of old records sitting in a haphazard pile beside it. A badly painted yellow bureau and a bed covered with fluffy pillows were the only other furniture in the room.

"Giles thinks it was a magic spell," Buffy said. "Apparently cast by someone with terrible fashion sense."

The vampire was humming to herself, and swaying, with her eyes half shut. She didn't seem to realize they were there.

Buffy walked up to the vampire and tapped her on the shoulder. The vampire turned and squinted at her.

They walked out of the room, back up the long hallway. The kitchen ahead of them was empty. To their right, they heard a toilet flushing and a young girl walked out of the bathroom. She gasped and jumped when she saw Faith and Buffy, but she wasn't a vampire.

"Jesus, you guys scared me," she said, and laughed nervously, her blue eyes unfocused, the pupils very small. She was a skinny little thing wearing a top that was unbuttoned too far and a skirt that was too short, and too much makeup. She teetered atop her high heels. She looked like she was about thirteen. She was pale, and her neck was bandaged. "You here to score?"

"Uh, okay," the girl said, and turned right around and wobbled back down the hall and out the door.

The only other room was a bedroom to their left, and when they opened the door they found two vampires, a man and a woman, practically comatose on the floor beside a big bed covered with leopard-print sheets. The man had dreadlocks and wore sandals. The woman was fat, with frizzy, permed hair, huge sunglasses, and a dolphin tattoo on her ankle. The rug was green shag this time. There was a blacklight poster of the Silver Surfer on the wall, and an overturned bowl of pretzels on the floor. The medicinal smell was strong here.

"Hippie girl and these two idiots?" Buffy said. Even if I woke them up they couldn't put up a fight, they're wasted." She shook her head in disgust and staked them both.

They looked around for a cellar, but there wasn't one. They had checked every room. They walked back down the hallway.

"Sorry, B," Faith said. She could see the tension in Buffy, the tightness in her shoulders, the pent-up energy in her stride. That energy needed a release and it hadn't gotten one. "Those were some pretty weak-ass vamps."

"Yeah," Buffy said, stalking down the hall. "Only one of them was even fucking awake."

The swear sounded awkward and ugly, coming from Buffy then. It didn't sound like her.

The problem, Faith realized, was that she had no idea what came after "Hey". She stood there, looking back at Buffy. Her skin felt too tight. She wanted to climb out of it.

Faith felt stuck, suspended. She didn't know what to do. She was at the top of the roller coaster, in that one moment when the car teeters on the brink, just before it falls…

Faith's scent came to Buffy, much stronger than the smell of vampires or drugs or blood that permeated the house. It was strong, but sweet…like peaches. Buffy's whole body felt hot. Her legs felt weak. She touched the wall with her hand, steadying herself. She knew she was on the edge of a cliff…

With a snarl, Buffy slammed Faith against the wall and kissed her…and let herself fall.

Willow looked down at the floor. "I, um, already told you," she said. "Three vampires chased me into the alley, and then Faith showed up."

"Says the girl who's the worst liar in the world," Xander said. There was something wrong in her voice again.

Willow kept looking down at the floor. Her hands were in her lap, and she was bent forward, like she was trying to curl herself into a ball.

"Did they…do something to you?" Xander said. He was scared now. He'd been thinking all day about what could have happened to Willow in the alley…

But he hadn't allowed himself to think about what could have happened to Willow in the alley.

"They tried…to do stuff to me," Willow said, still not looking at him. "But Faith got there before they could. They tried to…"

"They…tried to rape me, Xander," Willow said. She took his hand. "But they didn't. Faith stopped them before they could. Faith stopped them. They hit me but they weren't able to…they didn't have a chance to do anything else."

"Xander, I didn't mean it like that," Willow said. "Look, can we just drop this? You wanted to know and now you know. The vampires are dead. I don't wanna think about this anymore, okay? I'm…I'm over it."

"Bullshit! You just…you just wanna freeze me out on this. You told Buffy, had a real heart to heart with her. But your friend since frigging kindergarten? No, you kept me out. If I hadn't brought it up you never would have told me."

"How could you not tell me?! After everything we've meant to each other, all our lives! And you keep this from me? What the fuck were you thinking?! What were you thinking, Willow?!" he screamed, crying now.

"No!" Willow shouted, and leaped off the bed. "Don't you act like you're…like I have some…obligation to tell you this! You're not…yeah, sure, you're my oldest friend! But you're not my boyfriend, okay? It's not like you have some right to know this! I told Buffy because she's a girl and she's my friend and she would understand! You're a guy! So yeah, okay, what was I thinking? I was thinking maybe this isn't about you! It's about me! And maybe it's…maybe it's none of your business!"

"Oh, sure! Right!" Willow shouted, and slapped his hand away. "Now you act like…you act like you're all, all my boyfriend! Good old Willow, she'll always be there when your first choice rejects you! Maybe I should almost get gang-raped every day! Then you'd actually notice me!"

"Who's bullshitting now?" Willow said. "You're not my boyfriend. You don't get to have all of me. There are parts you don't get to have."

"No!" Willow screamed. "You don't want to be! This is just, because some vampires almost raped me and now you're all, I don't know what you are! But this, this isn't the way it's supposed to be! If you wanted me you would've wanted me before. I would've been your first choice, instead, of, y'know, the girl you invite to the dance when everyone else said no! You NEVER wanted to be with me, all you've ever done is TEASE ME!"

He looked her in the eyes. He had spent his whole life looking into those green eyes; he knew them better than anyone…

He had spent his whole life looking at this girl. But now, he finally understood…that he had never really seen her.

"You're right," Xander said. He walked away from her, and looked out the window. Giles and Joyce were kissing in the pool. Xander made a mental note to be dumbstruck about that later.

He saw his life, looming in front of him, like a long, lonely road in the dark. He couldn't walk that road alone. There was one person he needed with him. Without her…there just wasn't any reason to bother. Without her his whole life would be walking in the dark.

"Okay, so we both know I can be pretty dumb," Xander said. "Math, science…Willow. Three subjects I'm always lagging behind in. I need remedial Willow classes."

He turned to her. She was still crying. He wanted to hold her. If he couldn't, he thought he'd die. He saw all the years of his life stretching out ahead of him…long, cold years in the dark.

"Yeah. I take you for granted," Xander said. "Because I'm dumb. You've always been important to me, you've always been my best friend, and it…blinded me a little, I guess. And yeah, I wish so much that it hadn't taken me this long, that I had seen this years ago but…today, every time I look at you…it's like I'm realizing over and over again how beautiful you are. And it's not because of what happened in the alley. It was before I even knew about the alley…it was last night, when you and Buffy came to my house at four in the morning, when you knocked on my window in the dark, and the moon was behind you, and you were smiling. It was then. It was right then. It was then that…suddenly…I realized you're the most beautiful girl in the world and how much…how much I love you. So yeah, I'm dumb. Sometimes, the really special stuff…you don't notice it at first. At least, not when you're a dumb guy like me."

It wasn't a romantic kiss. It wasn't tender. It was hungry. Buffy's lips tore into Faith's, her tongue jammed into Faith's mouth, her hands wrenched Faith's hair, pulling her closer.

It caught Faith off guard. She froze. But then Buffy's tongue felt so soft, and Buffy's scent was all around her…

They kissed for a few minutes, the kisses eventually becoming softer, more gentle. Buffy wasn't yanking Faith's hair anymore, she was tenderly stroking it. Her tongue wasn't stabbing into Faith's mouth, but licking it, exploring it. They opened their eyes, and finally looked at each other.

Buffy slowly moved her hand to Faith's breasts, and caressed them, her hand shaking a little. She could feel Faith's heart beating like a triphammer.

Faith's fingers touched Buffy's thigh. Buffy moved closer to her. She rested her head on Faith's shoulder, and kissed her neck.

Faith's fingers moved up under Buffy's skirt, and brushed against her panties. Buffy's body was very warm there, and wet. Buffy gasped, when Faith touched her there, her lips against Faith's ear.

Buffy stood there, looking down at the floor, with Faith's arms around her. But she didn't move away.

Faith was afraid, too. But she didn't mind feeling afraid…it was better than feeling cold.

Faith threw Buffy into the bedroom. Buffy fell to the floor, and Faith leaped on top of her, and kissed her again.

Faith held Buffy down. Buffy wrapped her legs around her, and Faith rammed her body into Buffy's like she was fucking her. She wrenched Buffy's boots off. Buffy yanked at Faith's tee-shirt, ripped it off of her, tore off Faith's bra, and slid her head down until she could put her mouth on Faith's breasts. She sucked hungrily at them, while Faith held her there, her hand pulling at Buffy's hair. Faith's breasts tasted salty from her sweat; Buffy liked the taste.

After a few minutes Buffy flung Faith off of her, jumped up, and threw Faith across the room. Faith crashed into the wall, cracking it, and fell to the floor. Buffy threw herself on top of her, ripping her own sweater to pieces and flinging it away. She fumbled at her bra but her hands were shaking, and she couldn't work the snaps. "Get that fucking thing off!" Faith growled in her ear, and she tore Buffy's bra in two and flung it away.

Buffy slammed Faith's arms down to the floor and pinned her there. Faith didn't resist. She moaned as she kissed and sucked on Buffy's breasts, loving Buffy's taste, loving Buffy's scent, loving the strength in Buffy's arms as she held her down.

After awhile Faith moved her head down Buffy's stomach, kissing her way toward her waist. Buffy still held her to the floor, but allowed her to move. When she couldn't move her head down any further, Faith looked up at her. Faith was covered with Buffy's scent now, but she wanted more. She wanted to taste where it was strongest.

Buffy released Faith's hands. But Faith remained in her submissive pose, her legs spread, her pelvis arched. She tried the zipper on Buffy's skirt but Buffy would have to get up off of her in order to get it off, and Faith didn't want that. So she ripped the skirt off of her. She brought Buffy closer, until Buffy was kneeling above her lips, wearing only her panties. Faith thought she looked scared again.

Faith gently caressed Buffy, in the place where her scent was strongest. Buffy gasped, and trembled.

Faith slipped a finger under Buffy's panties. With a sudden look of panic in her eyes, Buffy grabbed Faith's hands, stopping her.

Buffy let Faith's hands go, and stood up. She hesitated…and then she took off her panties.

Faith took Buffy's hand, and brought her back down to her. She caressed Buffy again, as Buffy knelt naked above her. Buffy was wet now where Faith caressed her, and she moaned; it was the prettiest thing Faith had ever heard.

"Are you ready?" Xander said. He and Willow were naked together, on Cordy's bed.

"You're really good at getting a guy ready," he said, and moved on top of her, and kissed her.

She adjusted herself underneath him, and put her hands on his shoulders. She felt him against her. She felt herself parting for him. "You were a little too ready at first," she said. "I hope it's all out of your system."

Willow giggled. Then she looked at the bedsheets. "Hey, do you think Cordy will notice…I mean…um, there are stains."

"I'm thinking the bedsheets are a lost cause, Will," Xander said. "We'll blame leprechauns. Leprechauns did it. Those wily leprechauns…"

"Yup. Leprechauns," Willow said. "You're pretty good at getting a girl ready too."

"Don't worry, sweetie, I'm gonna put that tongue of yours on a regular exercise regimen," Willow said.

"Why do I have the feeling you're gonna be the one wearing the pants in this relationship?" Xander said.

"Maybe sometimes I'll wear sexy lingerie if you've been good and you keep up with your exercise regimen," Willow said. "Maybe a bikini too."

"I've…uh…never actually done this before," Xander said, and stroked her hair. Willow moved her hips beneath him, and drew him slowly inside her.

"Me neither," Willow said, and moaned, as she adjusted to him. He was halfway in now. It hurt a little. But she liked how it hurt.

"You've got the easy job," Xander said. "Wow. This sure is…you know, they showed us that movie in health class? But…the reality is just…a lot more…"

"We talk too much," Willow murmured, and kissed him, and wrapped her legs around him.

After Buffy came, she fell down on top of Faith, and they lay on the floor, catching their breath. They could feel their hearts beating against each other, beating together. Faith felt like she was swimming in a river of Buffy's scent.

When her breathing was back under control, Faith flipped herself over and threw Buffy down beneath her. Buffy didn't resist her.

Buffy grabbed Faith around the waist, and moved her forward until Faith was kneeling on top of her. Faith allowed it, but when Buffy tried to pull her jeans down, Faith moved herself back. She shook her head, and slapped Buffy's hands away. Then she moved herself forward again, until she was kneeling directly above Buffy's lips. When Buffy tried to pull down Faith's jeans again, Faith moved herself back again, and smiled.

Faith noticed Buffy's shoulder wound for the first time. The bandage had torn off, and there was an ugly scab where the bullet had gone through. Faith kissed it.

Faith helped Buffy up, gave her ass a little pat, and threw her onto the bed. She jumped on her and they rolled around, jamming their tongues in each other's mouths again, feeling the energy coursing through them again. They pulled each other's hair, and licked and caressed and clawed at each other, and fought like cats: first one would conquer the other, forcing her down, making her surrender, then the other would gain the upper hand. They fought and kissed their way across the bed, reveling in each other's strength, luxuriating in each other's scent.

Buffy tore at Faith's jeans, trying to get them down, but they were too tight. "Fucking jeans!" Buffy screamed, and finally grabbed them by the waistband and ripped them in two and flung them away. She pushed Faith down into the bed, and tore Faith's boots and socks off, and ripped her panties down.

They were both naked now, and Faith wrapped her legs around Buffy and they started grinding their bodies together, fucking each other, faster and faster, sweat dripping off them, their hearts pounding, the air dragging in and out of their lungs, barely able to keep up with them.

After a few minutes, Faith threw Buffy off. She pinned Buffy down on the bed, and moved herself above Buffy's lips.

Slowly, Buffy raised her arms from the bed and tried to sit up, pitting her strength against Faith's.

Their arms shaking with the strain, they kissed, as Faith tried to force her down, and Buffy struggled to sit up…and then Buffy stopped struggling, and let Faith throw her back down to the bed again.

They each took a moment to catch their breath. They looked each other in the eyes.

Buffy moved down to Faith's pussy, but Faith kept her legs closed tight. She moved her arms around in front of herself, like she was trying to hide. She kept fussing with her hair. Buffy smiled, and took Faith's hand, and kissed it. Faith relaxed a little, and allowed Buffy to gently open her legs. Faith was wet.

"Hey," Buffy said, and moved back up beside Faith, and hugged her. "Hey, hey…it's okay, Faith. It's okay. It's okay."

She pulled Faith toward her, and Faith rested her head on Buffy's breasts. Buffy gently ran her fingers up and down Faith's stomach.

"It's…just…" Faith said, sniffling. She looked up at Buffy, and smiled as she cried. "I'm just…I'm just being stupid," Faith said.

"You're not stupid," Buffy said. "Just tell me what's wrong. If it's…if you don't want to do this, if it's too much, we don't have to…"

Faith shook her head. "I want to, B," she said. "I want to with you. But it's just…no one ever really…I've never been…touched there."

"Like this?" Buffy said, and started rubbing Faith's belly. "Do you like when I do this?"

"Faith, are you saying…I'm your first?" Buffy said. "That's okay, you know. There's nothing wrong with that."

"But they…didn't touch you?" Buffy said. "I don't understand. Why wouldn't they want to…?"

"They just…did their business and got off," Faith said, and turned her back to her. Faith's voice was harsh, when she said that; it was like a gun going off in the room.

"I wasn't a hooker, if that's what you're thinking," Faith said, and sat up, and wiped her tears away. "Maybe I might as well have been though."

"Hey," Buffy said, and gently brought her back down toward her. "I wasn't thinking that. I wasn't."

"I'm gonna kiss you until you can't cry anymore," Buffy said. "I got more kisses than you got tears."

"I fight tears with tickles, and tickles always win," Buffy said, and smiled, and kept kissing her tears. Faith giggled again, and nodded, and stopped crying.

"Put your hand back there?" Faith said, turning over on her side. She took Buffy's hand and put it back on her stomach. Buffy started rubbing her belly again, and kissing her neck. Faith's scent was strong at the back of her neck, below her ears. Buffy kissed her there.

"Guys…I never came when we did it. Never came even if I tried to get myself off either. I'm…what do they call it? I'm frigid."

"Look," Buffy said. "I'm not saying I'm like, Doctor Ruth, okay? I mean, I've only had sex like, once before. And, really didn't ever think I'd be hopping in bed with a girl, but…anyway…frigid is a word guys came up with to make themselves feel better. There's no such thing."

"He was…I loved him, and he loved me. And it was great. It was the best day of my life. The day after that…well, that wasn't so great. But that's a whole other story. The thing is, it was great because we were together, Faith. Because we were thinking about each other…sharing it with each other."

"Faith," Buffy said. "The guys you were with didn't deserve you. They were there to take something from you and what they did to you wasn't right. But the way sex is meant to be? It's meant to be about giving. Let me give this to you. Let me make you feel the way you made me feel."

"Well, like I said, not the expert here? But I think it's about trust. I think you just need to be relaxed, and to be able to trust the person you're with, that they're not out to use you, or hurt you. That way you can concentrate on just feeling good. Do you…do you trust me? Do you trust that I don't want to use you, or take anything from you? That I'm not doing this to hurt you?"

Faith nodded. Buffy moved her fingers down Faith's stomach, just below her waist, and stopped there.

She kissed her way down Faith's stomach, feeling Faith's abdominal muscles moving beneath her lips, contracting wherever she touched them…

She kissed Faith's belly button; it was a tiny little outie. Faith giggled like a little girl. She was ticklish there.

And Faith purred like a kitten, as Buffy covered her most intimate place with kisses…

Cordelia snuck upstairs, piled down with shopping bags, hoping to avoid Buffy's nerd brigade. She'd hoped they'd all be gone by now but no such luck; she'd heard splashing out back by the pool when she parked her car, and unless Conchita had been at the wine coolers again and had decided it was time for the semi-annual rite of inflicting the sight of herself in a bikini on Cordy's innocent retinas, that meant they were still here. If she could just make it to her room without any of them seeing her she could lock herself in and try on all her new outfits and hopefully they'd all go away eventually. With some luck all of them were out by the pool and they wouldn't even notice she'd gotten back.

Cordy had known the day would be a disaster from the get-go; she'd decided the moment after she'd agreed to this that the only way she'd get through it was by sticking to a regimen of vigorous shopping and having Conchita run interference. She had thought Willow and Xander would be the problem, but it hadn't turned out that way. The problem was Buffy's mother. Willow and Xander had basically avoided Cordy and Cordy liked that fine. Giles had said a few British things she hadn't understood and then had gone away. But Joyce kept on talking to her, kept on trying to be nice to her and asking her about school and her friends. Apparently she had been popular back in the Stone Age and she thought they could both bond over it. She had a tediously earnest perkiness that made Cordy realize that Buffy's uncanny ability to annoy her must have a genetic component. Joyce kept hinting around that maybe Buffy belonged with the cool crowd. And maybe she did, Cordy knew, but Buffy had chosen to burn that bridge. And even if Cordy decided to extend the invitation again out of the kindness of her heart, Joyce actually seemed to think Willow belonged with the cool crowd too. It was bewildering.

She opened the door to her room, saw Willow and Xander having sex on her bed, and closed the door to her room.

"It's okay, baby," Buffy said, and moved up beside her again, and hugged her, and wiped her tears away. "It's okay. It's okay."

Faith snuggled up closer to Buffy, and Buffy put her arms around her, and kissed her. Faith kissed Buffy's breasts. She took one of Buffy's nipples in her mouth, and started sucking on it.

Faith closed her eyes, and sucked on Buffy's nipple, as Buffy ran her fingers through her hair…

When Faith opened her eyes again, she realized she had fallen asleep. She looked up. Buffy was smiling down at her.

"Sorry. I guess I just got kinda comfortable. Your boobs are real nice to lie on. Like pillows."

"I didn't mind," Buffy said. "I like having you like this. Besides, it was only maybe half an hour. I can be Buffy the pillow if you want."

Faith shook her head, and started kissing Buffy's breasts again, and moved her fingers down between Buffy's legs. She caressed Buffy's clit, and slowly worked a finger inside her. Buffy was tight, but she was so wet that Faith was able to enter her with ease. Buffy moaned, as Faith gently fucked her.

Faith moved on top of her, and kissed her, and pushed a second finger inside her. Buffy was breathing heavily now, her breasts heaving, as Faith caressed her tiny button of a clit, and slowly fucked her with her fingers. Faith watched the muscles in Buffy's powerful thighs and calves flexing as Buffy thrashed around on the bed, scratching her toenails up and down the bedsheet like a cat on a scratching post, tearing the bedsheet to ribbons.

Buffy dug her fingernails into Faith's shoulder, drawing blood; Faith liked it. She knew the pain for what it was: just another part of the song Buffy had been playing, using Faith's body as her instrument. The pain knifed through Faith, sweet and sharp and shrill, the perfect high note you had to hit just right, or the song wouldn't be complete…and then it faded away.

But it awakened the lion in Faith before it was gone: Faith had loved being Buffy's kitten before but now she was a lion again, and she smiled down at Buffy, showing her teeth. She gently grazed them along Buffy's neck, and inhaled Buffy's scent. She wished she could bite her. She wanted to mark her territory.

She noticed two tiny wounds on the left side of Buffy's neck, the old scabs faded to white now. Faith knew what they were. A low growl escaped her lips: someone had been there first, dared to claim what Faith had already decided belonged to her.

Buffy was bucking and moaning and thrashing around beneath her, nearly throwing Faith off as Faith brought her closer to her orgasm. But Faith controlled her, forced her back down, rode her like a wild horse she meant to tame. Buffy wrapped her arms and legs around Faith and held on tight to her, trembling, her fingernails digging into Faith's back, her feet rubbing up and down Faith's strong, muscular legs.

Buffy felt Faith's fingers caressing the old wounds – the bite marks left by Angelus – on her neck. She opened her eyes, and saw Faith staring down at her.

"Fuckin' say it," Faith snarled, and inserted a third finger into Buffy's pussy. But she was gentle, when she did it; moving it into her slowly, careful not to hurt her. She kept up her slow rhythm, caressing Buffy's clit with her thumb and moving her fingers back and forth inside her.

Faith licked the wounds on Buffy's neck, as Buffy bucked and moaned and trembled beneath her. It took all Faith's strength to hold her down.

"Here comes my girl," Faith whispered in Buffy's ear, as she gently fucked her…

And Buffy screamed and came like a rocket blasting off and bucked like a bronco and kicked out with her legs, nearly sending Faith flying off of her. But Faith managed to hold on, and she held Buffy down and kissed her, as Buffy's whole body convulsed, her orgasm ripping through her like an earthquake; Faith held her there, and tamed her, and kissed her…as Buffy trembled, and shuddered, and, eventually, lay still beneath her.

Then Buffy kicked Faith off of her. Faith flew across the room and slammed into a wall, knocking a hole in it, and fell to the floor.

And she showed Faith her teeth and sprang at her, covering the whole room in one bound. They rolled around on the floor, kissing and clawing at each other again, slamming each other into walls; one wall collapsed and actually fell on them. They jumped out from underneath it and Faith hurled Buffy across the room into the wall over the bed. Buffy slammed into it, cracking it, and landed back on the bed. Faith leaped onto the bed, but Buffy grabbed her arms in mid-air and flipped her over, and held her down. She jammed her face into Faith's pussy and tore into it like it was her last meal.

Buffy could barely catch her breath. Faith's scent was driving her into a frenzy; every part of her felt like it was tingling. She felt her energy spiking, felt it shooting through her. It was an effort to talk. Buffy felt like she had to dredge something up in order to do it; like she had to retrieve some nearly forgotten part of herself first.

"What…?" Buffy said, looking up from between Faith's legs like a greedy lion looking up from a fresh kill.

Buffy grudgingly turned around. "What are we doing?" she said. "Why do you want me to –"

They both giggled, as Buffy put her head down between Faith's legs, and started licking her there again…

"Holy galloping fuck," Faith said, much later, when the Slayers in them, finally sated, had returned to their lairs in their subconscious minds, and they both felt like themselves again. "What the hell did we do?"

Faith looked down. The bed was tilting at an angle; one of its runners had collapsed. She looked around the room. Their clothes were torn to shreds on the floor. The wall by the bedroom door had collapsed, the wall to her left was cracked, and there was a hole in the wall behind them; she could see that the sun had gone down. There were stars in the sky now.

"I think we broke the whole room," Faith said. "How'd that wall over there fall down?"

"Remember, when we were rolling around on the floor?" Buffy said. "We kinda crashed into it. Plus either you threw me into it or I threw you into it at least once…there was a lot of throwing. Just a lot of general slamming into walls."

"Oh yeah," Faith said. "I thought I felt something fall on me. Wasn't really paying attention."

"And I think I kicked through the wall behind us when I was on top of you and we were adding up to our favorite number," Buffy said, looking at the back yard through the hole in the wall behind them. A labrador retriever stood in the yard, watching her curiously.

They were naked, lying together in each other's arms. Their breasts were touching. They could feel each other's breath on their skin…they could feel each other's hearts beating.

But it was different now…uncomfortable. Their scents were still there, they still smelled sweet, but they didn't have the intoxicating effect they'd had before. They sat up, on opposite sides of the bed.

"Holy galloping fuck," Faith said, again, because it seemed the most appropriate thing to say.

"So now what?" Faith said. She had just had sex with a girl. And she liked it…but she didn't know what it meant. Was she a lesbian now? Could you be a lesbian and still like guys?

Everything was different now. Rebecca was gone, and she couldn't see Evan again. And Buffy…

"We both…said some stuff," Buffy said. She thought about Angel. She had no idea what she would do now. But she could never really have him…she could never really have him, and sometimes she needed someone…she wondered if this is the way it would be for the rest of her life, if this was the kind of person she would have to be, if she stayed with Angel, and tried to make it work with him. She would try to be loyal to him, but they would never be able to make love…and sometimes, she would need someone…

"Slayers," Faith said. "I don't know how it was with you, but…it felt like, yeah, okay, maybe I was in the car? But the Slayer in me was driving."

"Yeah," Buffy said. "Like how it gets when I'm out patrolling sometimes. Just…totally focused in on it…like there's nothing else in the world. We were…just focused in on each other."

Faith nodded. She had forgotten Evan. She hadn't thought about him for even a second when she was with Buffy…she had promised herself she'd be true to him and it had taken her less than a week to betray him.

"Faith," Buffy said. "This was…I don't regret it, okay? It was really sweet, and…I liked being with you and I don't regret any of it. But…"

The Slayer did it, Faith decided. It wasn't her. It was the Slayer in her who betrayed Evan. From now on, she'd just have to control the Slayer…never let this happen again.

"B…listen," Faith said, cutting her off. "I'm sorry, but…look, I'm not gay, okay? I don't swing that way."

"Wait, you don't swing that way?" Buffy said. "Hello? I don't swing that way! You think I swing that way? I'm not gay! I'm totally not gay!"

Faith wondered if Buffy really did believe it. She knew Buffy hadn't lied about the guy…whoever he was…she had sex with that time. But it was obvious she liked girls…then again, maybe Buffy was thinking the same thing about her.

"You started it!" Buffy said, standing up and pointing at Faith. "You started this whole thing!"

"I said 'Hey'? You threw me against a wall and jammed your frigging tongue in my mouth!"

Faith shook her head, and looked down at the floor. "Splendid," she said. "Just frigging splendid."

"And you kept doing that secretary thing," Buffy said. "And I'm demoting you, by the way."

"That's one way of putting it. I'm naked with some girl I've known for like twenty hours in a vamp drug house in the middle of California. Splendid."

"Holy galloping fuck," Faith said defiantly, glaring at Buffy with her arms folded across her chest. "Splendid, splendid, splendid."

"Why are you so annoying?" Buffy said. "I've known you for twenty hours and you've spent nineteen of them finding new ways to annoy me."

"So are we gonna have to drive home naked or what?" Faith said, surveying what was left of her clothes. Other than her socks and her boots, they were ripped to shreds. "Not that the freaks out here would mind. People probably drive around naked all the time out here. Probably drive out naked to peace rallies and Grateful Dead concerts."

"Oh, please," Buffy said. "Like Boston's so cool. What do you guys have? Seafood and Cheers and like, Kennedys."

"I got an idea," Faith said, looking toward the closet. "And I can guarantee we're not gonna like it."

"Splendid," Faith said to annoy Buffy, as they looked at themselves in the mirror. Faith was wearing a tie-dyed tee-shirt and bell bottom jeans with little pink flowers stitched on the front pockets and a peace sign patch on the ass. Buffy was wearing a red paisley blouse and a brown and gold peasant skirt with a pattern of red and orange rainbows around the hem.

"Come on, you hippie," Buffy said. "Let's get outta here before some vamps show up and laugh at us."

"Faith, please tell me you're not trying to get me to kiss you again?" Buffy said. "Because I'm planning on repressing this memory and looking at pictures of Brad Pitt for a week."

"Buffy…thanks," Faith said. "For what you did for Becca. It…really means a lot to me, y'know? It means a lot."

She was standing in front of the mirror in the bathroom in her motel room the next day, combing her hair. She knew Buffy would be coming over soon. She didn't have a clock but she knew it was three because Oprah had just started. "A negative self-image can hurt us," Faith could hear Oprah saying in the other room. "According to this new book, our greatest strength and our greatness weakness lies in how we perceive ourselves."

"Bet she's gonna try to kiss me," Faith said. "No way she can resist this package."

The doorbell rang. Faith checked herself one last time. She frowned at her outfit; she didn't have any decent clothes. She sighed and walked out of the bathroom. "So the way we perceive ourselves actually dictates how other people see us?" Oprah was saying. "Yes, to a significant degree. And if our self-image isn't fully formed, there is the danger that we may allow others to dictate –" someone answered, as Faith shut the TV off on her way to the door.

When she opened it, Buffy was standing there wearing faded blue cut-off jeans that fit her like a glove and did a nice job of displaying her long legs, a tight yellow tee-shirt without a bra and a pair of yellow flip-flops. She looked like the sun in a clear blue sky. Beautiful, and warm.

"Time for your tour of Sunnydale," Buffy said. "Ready to ride the welcome wagon?"

Faith raised her eyebrow, and gave Buffy a sexy smile. Not too sexy. She didn't want Buffy to kiss her again. But sexy. Buffy looked good in the cut-off jeans. Think about Evan, Faith thought. Hell, Brad Pitt too. Whatever works…

"Um…I want to have my last remark stricken from the record," Buffy said, and giggled, as Faith stepped aside and she walked into the motel room. Buffy immediately headed for the air conditioner, and stood in front of it with her arms stretched out at her sides and basked.

Faith moved to the nightstand. She was wearing tight jeans and a tee-shirt and her Docs; she wished she had some other outfit options but she didn't. Faith had one hell of a fabulous butt though, and she knew it. And she also knew that the jeans she was wearing didn't leave a single millimeter of it to the imagination. She decided to have some fun with Buffy.

She bent all the way over, went into the nightstand's little drawer and took her time finding her keys. She made sure Buffy got a good, long look at her butt. She even wiggled it at her. Just a little.

"You can be my welcome wagon, B," Faith said, looking back at Buffy with another sexy smile. "I liked the ride. I can go again." She noticed Buffy was very consciously not looking at her butt, and was instead staring at the wall.

"You're trying to get me to kiss you again, aren't you?" Buffy said, still basking in front of the air conditioner. "And on the eighth day God invented air conditioning. It's so hot out there today. It's Africa hot."

"You gotta stop projecting all your perverted fantasies onto me," Faith said, and lay down on the bed with her legs spread a little. What the hell am I doing? a part of Faith thought. "If I wanted a kiss you'd know," the other part of her said.

"I'd kiss you," Faith said, looking Buffy in the eyes, and nearly threw her arms around Buffy and kissed her. Instead she sat up, and got herself under control. She didn't know what she was doing. She didn't want a repeat of the day before…at least, that's what she'd been telling herself…

Buffy looked away from her and blushed a little. Faith took the opportunity to look at Buffy's legs. They were long and smooth and muscular and the color of cream. They were perfect. They were two perfect creamsicles on a hot summer day. Faith wanted to lick them.

"No," Buffy said, giggling and still looking away from her. Faith decided to relent.

"It's cool, hon,' Faith said, and rubbed Buffy's shoulder and stood up. "You made me blush plenty yesterday. Want like a Sprite or something? Got drinks in the bathroom."

"Yeah, I could use a cold drink. It's like ninety-five degrees and super humid today. It feels like I'm walking around in a big gross bowl of soup out there. I'm all hot and sticky."

"You tryin' to turn me on?" Faith said, and walked into the bathroom and took two Sprites out of the pile of ice she kept in the bathroom sink. "Already told you girlfriend, I don't swing that way."

She came back into the room and sat next to Buffy on the bed again. She popped the top off of Buffy's Sprite, and handed it to her.

Buffy was a little sweaty and her scent was stronger than usual. Faith loved that scent; it was like a flower…like a specific flower Faith had smelled before, but she still couldn't remember the name of it…

Faith couldn't resist one last little pinch. She moved her face very close to Buffy's…moved her lips very close to Buffy's. She smiled, her very sexiest smile.

Buffy smiled, and shook her head, and came to a decision. "Oh, hey, I almost forgot," she said, and put her Sprite down. "I brought a surprise for you."

"I like surprises," Faith said, and grinned. Faith looked at her. Buffy wasn't carrying anything with her, other than her purse. "Is it in your purse?"

"Love 'em," Faith said. "But usually I'm the one springin' the surprise." She wondered what Buffy could have brought her that would fit in her purse.

"You blushing, girlfriend?" Buffy said, smiling her very sexiest smile. She moved close to Faith, and took the Sprite out of her hands, and put it on the nightstand. She touched Faith's hair.

"Buffy…look…we…" Faith started to say. Buffy touched Faith's lips with her finger.

"Buffy…" Faith tried to say, again. Buffy stood inches away from Faith now, as Faith sat on the edge of the bed. Buffy's breasts were very close to her. Buffy's nipples were hard. They were long when they were hard; they stood out from her breasts like two pink erasers. Faith could have kissed them from where she was sitting. Faith felt her own nipples getting hard too.

Buffy laid herself on top of Faith, and looked her in the eyes. She noticed Faith was starting to breathe faster now, and she was fussing with her hair.

Faith nodded. She was nervous; Buffy could see it, and she could smell it. Buffy took Faith's hand. It was shaking a little.

"Nothing's gonna happen that you don't want," Buffy said, and caressed her cheek again. "Okay?"

Faith nodded again. She relaxed a little. But she was still nervous. She kept fussing with her hair.

Buffy moved her lips very close to Faith's neck, behind her ear. She inhaled Faith's scent.

"I always wanted to try them," Buffy said. "But I don't know if I could pull off the look as well as you do." She unlaced Faith's boots, and took them off. She took off Faith's socks.

Buffy ran her fingers over the soles of Faith's feet. Faith gasped, and giggled.

Buffy slowly started lifting Faith's tee-shirt up. When it was halfway up, she stopped, and looked at Faith, and waited.

Faith hesitated…then she raised her arms, and let Buffy lift her tee-shirt up the rest of the way, and pull it off. Buffy unclasped Faith's bra in back.

Faith blushed again, and avoided Buffy's eyes, as Buffy took her bra off. Faith's nipples were hard.

Faith nodded. Her panties were soaked. She hoped Buffy wouldn't try to take her jeans down. She felt her heart beating. She was taking deep breaths now. She kept trying to calm herself down, but she couldn't.

"I'm gonna help you relax, okay?" Buffy said. She gently laid Faith back down and turned her over onto her side, and curled up behind her. She put her arms around her, and started rubbing her belly.

Faith felt herself relaxing, as Buffy rubbed her belly. She felt her nervousness seeping away.

After a few minutes, Buffy said, "You let me know when you're ready for me to take your jeans off, okay, baby?"

Faith felt warm, as Buffy rubbed her belly. She felt relaxed now. She wasn't nervous anymore. Her breathing was normal again. She breathed in Buffy's scent.

They didn't talk. Buffy didn't kiss Faith, or touch her anywhere else. She rubbed Faith's belly, and they listened to each other's breathing, and inhaled each other's scents.

Buffy pulled Faith's jeans down. They were tight and it took her awhile; Faith had to wriggle out of them. Buffy saw that Faith's panties were soaked through. Faith blushed again, and closed her legs. Buffy smiled, and took Faith's hand, and kissed it.

"Do you want me to take your panties off now, or do you want me to wait?" Buffy said.

Faith smelled good; even better than usual, because she was wet. It took all of Buffy's self-control not to start licking her pussy. But that wasn't why she was doing this; it wasn't what she was after. She turned Faith over on her side, and curled up behind her again, and went back to rubbing her belly.

"You were all being flirty with me, and wiggling your butt at me and stuff," Buffy said. "How come, baby?"

"I thought you said yesterday you didn't wanna do that stuff? That you like guys?"

"I do, but…I don't know. I was just…jokin' around with you today, that's all. I'm sorry. I didn't mean nothin' by it."

"I'm not angry, Faith," Buffy said. "It's just that when you do that stuff… it makes it awkward for me a little."

Buffy kissed Faith's cheek. "You don't have to be sorry, Faith," she said. "I'm not angry. Do you like being with me like this?"

"You told me yesterday you had a guy in Boston. Is that true, or was it just so I wouldn't try to set you up with Xander?"

"No," Faith said. She knew she could never go back to Evan. Kakistos was gone, but if there was anything she learned from Rebecca's stories of the Slayers who had come before, it was that there was always a new threat right around the corner. Evan would never be safe, if Faith gave in to her desires…if she let herself have him. It would be selfish…it would get him killed. "I think…I'm gonna stay around here, at least for awhile."

Faith nodded. Buffy rubbed her belly. Part of Faith wished Buffy would rub her between her legs too. But she knew that would make things confusing again…and she wanted to be loyal to Evan. Or at least try to be…

"I got a guy too," Buffy said. "It's…really complicated though. We sort of broke up, but…we still care about each other. We're sort of…together and not together at the same time. He's the guy I told you about yesterday."

Faith nodded. She was starting to feel sleepy. When Buffy rubbed her belly it made Faith want to cuddle up on Buffy's breasts and go to sleep. But at the same time her pussy was still soaked. She wasn't sure what she wanted, wasn't sure what to do.

"So I bet you're wondering why I did this, huh?" Buffy said. "Why we're lying here naked together."

"With the vibe we had, from the moment I walked in here, I thought it would make things simpler for us if we cut right to the chase," Buffy said. "I just wanted us to be comfortable, and to make it past this whole sex thing, so we could really talk. Plus maybe I wanted to see your perfect little butt."

"So we both have guys, but we both like being with each other," Buffy said. "What's it all mean, jelly bean?"

Buffy moved herself closer to Faith, so her nose was against the back of Faith's neck, just below her ear, where her scent was strong.

"The way I see it, we're both straight," Buffy said. "We both have guys, we both like guys. But we like each other too. Maybe it's a Slayer thing, maybe we're bi, I don't know. Of course, I guess you could just be a big huge lesbian…" Buffy said, and started tickling Faith's belly.

Faith laughed and started thrashing around, as Buffy kept tickling her. "Oh, it is so on!" Faith shouted, and she leaped out from under Buffy and jumped to the other side of the bed and started tickling Buffy's feet. Buffy started laughing hysterically and tried to yank her feet away like she had just stepped on hot coals. They got tangled up together like they were playing a game of Twister, laughing and shouting and rolling around and jumping on each other and trying to uncover new secret ticklish places on each other's bodies; their faces were red, and their nipples were hard, and they were wet for each other…

Eventually, Buffy ended up on top. She held Faith's arms down, and lay on top of her, and smiled. They were both out of breath, and sweating a little.

"What am I gonna do with you?" Buffy said, and let Faith's arms go. "You're such a bad girl."

They just looked at each other, for awhile. Buffy caressed Faith's cheek, and ran her fingers through her hair. She could feel how wet Faith was, between her legs.

Eventually, Buffy rolled off of her, and turned her on her side again. "Good girls get tummy rubs," she said. She cuddled up behind Faith, and put her arms around her, and started rubbing her belly again. Faith nodded, and rubbed her feet against Buffy's.

"So we're back to the question," Buffy said. "How are we gonna be when we're together? Friends? Or the way we were yesterday?"

"Me neither," Buffy said. "But we gotta figure it out. We gotta decide what we want."

"You know what it's like?" Buffy said, and turned Faith over on her back, and looked down at her. She moved her hand lower as she rubbed Faith's belly, until her hand reached below Faith's waist, and touched the top of her pubic hair.

"It's like what you're feeling right now," Buffy said. "I can tell you're getting all sleepy with me rubbing your tummy. But you're horny too. I know you want me to give you a kiss down there."

"So there are two choices," Buffy said. "You can be my sleepy girl and cuddle up with me and we can take a nap. And we can decide that we won't do anything more than that, and yesterday was just…not a one-night stand, because it was better than that, but…just…a strange day. Not a day we regret. Just a strange day. Or…I could kiss it for you. But that means everything gets complicated…and the guys in our lives…is it really fair to them?"

"Okay," Buffy said, and put her arms around Faith, and brought her close to her. "So…is this our choice?"

"Yeah. I think so," Faith said. "I like you a lot Buffy, I love being with you but…I wanna be loyal to my guy."

"Yeah. I think…that's the right decision for us," Buffy said. "And hello? Not lesbians."

They laughed. Faith was ninety-nine point nine-nine-nine-nine-nine percent sure Buffy was lying, but she let it pass. "Yeah," she said.

"It's nice and cool in here, with the air conditioning," Buffy said. "Good for naps."

"Yeah, it's the one thing this place got right," Faith said. "I'm sorry, B. I'm sorry I was all…like joking around and being all flirty with you. I'm sorry if that made you…uncomfortable."

"Not uncomfortable," Buffy said, and kissed Faith's forehead. "Just…it complicates things, Faith. It makes things a little harder."

"I guess I was just nervous about seeing you after yesterday, y'know?" Faith said. "And…I guess I was just letting off some steam. I won't tease you like that anymore, I promise."

"It's okay," Buffy said. "I wasn't angry with you. I was just…um…really, really horny. You made me blush, baby. But I'm better now."

Faith giggled. Then she yawned, and cuddled up closer to Buffy. "I love how you smell," she said. "I love being close to you like this, having your scent right next to me. You always smell real pretty."

When she opened them again the room was dark. She looked around. Moonlight was shining in through the window. She was cuddled up against Buffy's breasts. Buffy's arms were around her. Buffy was snoring softly.

Faith sat up on the edge of the bed. She looked down at Buffy, in the moonlight, and watched her sleep.

"Jesus Christ, you're beautiful," Faith whispered. Buffy's hair was in her eyes. Faith gently fixed it.

Buffy rolled over in her sleep, and reached out. She ran her hands over the bedsheet, and seemed to frown.

"Mmmmm…hi baby," Buffy said, and yawned, and stretched, and looked around the room. She curled up closer to Faith, and smiled. "Got all dark."

"Yeah, we'll have to do the tour another time," Faith said. "But it's not too late though, I can hear cars and stuff outside. Figure we can still patrol."

Buffy shook her head, rolled over, and pulled Faith's arm around her. She held Faith's hand against her breasts. "Sleepy," Buffy said. "Need more cuddles."

"Okay," Faith said. "Lazy girls get to go back to sleep. I gotta warn you though, sometimes lazy girls get tickled."

"They do," Faith whispered in her ear, and ran her fingers down Buffy's back, and over her butt. "They get tickled in all sorts of places."

Faith turned Buffy around, and caressed her cheek. Buffy opened her eyes, and looked up at her.

Buffy turned back over, and pulled Faith's arm around her again, and held Faith's hand against her breasts. Faith curled up behind her.

They sat up in the bed, instantly awake and completely alert and ready for a fight. The room was still dark. Moonlight was still shining in.

"Hot diggity," Faith said. She pulled her stake from the nightstand and twirled it around her fingers.

Buffy was standing very still, and looking toward the window. Faith watched Buffy as she stood there, naked in the moonlight, her legs spread apart, all the weight on the balls of her feet: she had unconsciously adopted a fighting stance. Buffy was reaching out with her senses, and baring her teeth. She was a perfect predator. She was the most beautiful creature Faith had ever seen. She was more beautiful than Evan.

Faith knew she couldn't have her. She couldn't have Evan either. She couldn't have anyone.

"They're coming closer," Buffy said. There was a hint of a snarl in her voice. "Not right toward us, but heading in our general direction."

Faith let her senses reach out. Mostly, Buffy's scent came to her. She tried to filter it out. It was distracting.

"Yeah," Faith said, zeroing in on the vampires' scents. "Smells like a whole bunch of them out there."

"I'm picking up seven of them," Buffy said, and turned on the light, and began scooping up her clothes. "Let's get to it."

"How we playin' this?" Faith said, as she put her panties on and wriggled herself back into her jeans. They were tight and it required some hopping around to get them buttoned, and Faith's breasts flopped up and down as she did it. Buffy watched her with an appreciative little smile as she got dressed.

"Sorry, what were you saying?" Buffy said, as she pulled up her cut-off jeans and slipped into her flip-flops. "Mesmerized by your boobs over here."

"B, not for nothin?" Faith said, as she put her tee-shirt on. She didn't bother with the bra. "Don't talk it unless you're gonna walk it, because you don't even wanna know how much I need you right now."

"Sorry, baby," Buffy said, and smiled, as she wiggled into her tight tee-shirt. "If it makes you feel any better the feeling's mutual, boob girl."

"Makes me feel worse, actually," Faith said, and pulled on her socks and her boots and started quickly lacing them up. "If you didn't want it I'd deal and move on. But if we both want it then why the hell can't we be together?"

"Faith…" Buffy said. She wanted to explain. But she didn't know how. Buffy thought back to the conversation they'd had earlier, about how they shouldn't be together. The reasons had seemed like good ones, then. Now they didn't. Why should she be loyal to Angel when she could never have him?

Faith held up her hand. "Forget it, okay?" Faith said, and finished lacing up her boots. "It's complicated and I'm not in the fuckin' mood. I'm in the mood for simple right now. Dustin' vamps is nice and simple."

"I'm sorry," Faith said. "That didn't come out right, okay? I'm not angry with you, Buffy, I'm just…I'm in a weird mood. I've had…kind of a rough week, y'know? Everything's…everything's changed now. A week ago Becca was alive."

"I had Becca, y'know?" Faith said. "She always took care of me. I knew what I was doing, I knew where I stood. Now I don't have anything. I don't even have a frigging picture of Becca. I never took a picture of her. I always thought… we'd have more time."

Faith held up her stake. "This is what I have," Faith said. "This is all I have now. Becca's gone and this is what I have now."

"No I don't," Faith said, and got up, and started to walk away. "We made our choice, remember?"

Faith knelt down in front of her, took off Buffy's flip-flops, unzipped Buffy's cut-off jeans, and began pulling them down.

"Yesterday, we didn't even want to admit it happened," Buffy said. "So now it's suddenly all different?"

"We were both freaked out yesterday," Faith said. "So we were both bullshitting ourselves a little. Lying about what we want…maybe even about what we are. I'm tired of bullshitting."

Faith ran her hands up and down Buffy's ankles, and kissed Buffy's knees. She moved herself between Buffy's legs, and looked up at her.

"We…can't," Buffy said. "We can't, Faith. And yeah, I'm not sure why either, okay? But…we were both pretty sure when we made the decision before and I don't wanna just throw that decision away now without thinking about it first, without at least talking about it again."

Buffy put her clothes back on. She pulled her stake from her purse, and stood up. She noticed Faith wasn't looking at her. She took Faith's hand.

"Come on, let's get out there before we lose the scent," Faith said, and walked out the door.

"So how we playin' this?" Faith said. They had the vampires in sight now: six males and a female. The vampires weren't aware of them yet; they were loping down the street ahead of them at a leisurely pace, sniffing the air, and talking quietly. Hunting. But they hadn't caught a scent yet. Buffy and Faith watched them from behind a parked car a few blocks back, careful to keep upwind of them.

"The streets are too wide open around here," Buffy said. "I want to maneuver them somewhere where they can't run from us. I don't want any of them to get away. I want them all."

"Heard that," Faith said. "I need some good kills. How's this. I'll circle around, find an alley or whatever, some closed-in spot, right? You follow them at a distance, keep out of their range. I'll be the bait, let 'em pick up my scent. Once I lure them to the spot you join the party and block their exit. Then we dance."

"Works for me," Buffy said. She put her hand on Faith's shoulder, and ran her fingers through Faith's hair. "I'll head up to the rooftops, follow them from there. At least it's pretty late, there's no one around. Cuts down on the chance some civilians will get in the way."

"What?" Buffy said, and took her hand away from Faith's hair. "I'm just… I didn't mean…"

Faith shook her head like a mosquito was buzzing around it. She was working. She needed to focus.

Faith knew the vampires were close; she felt them. She was around the block from them now, walking up a parallel street a couple of blocks ahead of their position. She knew the vampires weren't aware of her yet; they weren't headed in her direction.

The night was quiet and the moon was bright enough to see by even without the streetlights. The street was deserted. No cars passed. The night was cool, and there was a soft breeze; enough to carry the vampires' scents to her.

Faith passed a McDonald's advertising ninety-nine cent Egg McMuffins. She passed a little storefront advertising karate classes. The storefront had a mannequin standing in the doorway dressed in one of those white karate uniforms with a black belt. Someone had painted the mannequin's lips red and written "Sucky Sucky" on the mannequin's forehead in red magic marker. She passed a porno shop called Super Sex which was advertising the impending release of "Cockhuggers 12". In one of the second floor windows of the building housing the porno shop there was a hand-painted sign advertising tarot readings in "Madame Talaitha's Mystical Sanctum Sanctorum" upstairs. Faith wondered what the hell a "sanctum sanctorum" was. She passed a boarded-up building with condoms littering the ground around the doorway. A mouse scurried by her; it stopped and looked up at her, sniffed the air, then darted across the street. Faith passed a liquor store. She passed an alley.

She walked into the alley and took a look around. It was a dead end. It was wide enough to give her and Buffy room to maneuver. It would do.

She let her senses reach out. The vampires were still around the block from her, headed up the street. They would reach the next intersection in less than a minute. That's where she'd let them see her.

She couldn't detect Buffy's scent; there wasn't a trace of it anywhere but on her own body. She walked out of the alley and looked up at the rooftops. She had no idea where Buffy was. It was amazing; since she had become the Slayer no one had ever been able to elude her before, not when she was actively looking for them, not when she was really trying.

When the vampires reached the intersection Faith was walking along the sidewalk, downwind from them and headed away. The vampires immediately turned the corner and started following her. Faith smiled. She felt like the female cop in one of those bad eighties cop shows. The female cop always had to go undercover so pervos could jump out of the bushes at her while the guys who were the stars of the show got to set up a sting and save her. Faith thought there should be a television show about Slayers. Faith the Vampire Slayer, it could be called. But she knew it would probably be called Buffy the Vampire Slayer.

She wondered what she was doing there. Kakistos was dead. This was Buffy's territory. She couldn't have Buffy. So why was she staying?

She knew it was because she had nowhere else to go. She couldn't go back to Boston…she couldn't go back to Evan.

She remembered Rebecca saying there was another Hellmouth in Cleveland. It wasn't as active as the one in Sunnydale; there weren't any Big Bads popping out of it but there were still plenty of run-of-the-mill vamps. Maybe she could go there.

The vampires were speeding up. They wanted to keep her in sight. Faith turned the corner like she didn't have a care in the world. The moment she turned the corner she detected the vampires' scents coming closer, fast. They didn't want to lose her, didn't want to risk her entering a house.

The hook was baited. As the vampires turned the corner Faith decided it was time to reel them in. She turned around and looked at them and pretended to be surprised. She turned away from them and sped up her walk. She heard the vampires chuckling behind her.

She turned and looked at them again and pretended to be afraid this time. She started running, and the vampires broke into a run after her.

She had timed it perfectly; by the time the vampires were almost on her she reached the alley and ran into it.

The vampires stood at the entrance to the alley, growling. Like wolves. Faith kept up her undercover cop act; it was fun. She felt like Heather Locklear.

She looked around frantically, as if she was looking for a way out and just now realizing the alley was a dead end. She turned and looked at the vampires. She slowly backed away from them, deeper into the alley.

"Please," Faith said, trying not to laugh. "I don't…I don't want any trouble. I got money. You guys want money?"

The vampires moved into the alley, and spread out around her. Faith moved farther back. She wanted to lure them all the way in so Buffy could block their exit. She smelled Buffy now. She let her senses reach out. Buffy was above her, on one of the rooftops nearby. The vampires apparently hadn't picked up Buffy's scent yet; Faith was their shiny new toy. They followed Faith deeper into the alley. The vampires' faces still looked human. They were taking their time. Stretching things out. A scared, helpless girl was fun.

"Please don't hurt me," Faith said, as the vampires moved toward her, and she backed away from them; she nearly did laugh this time. But in the darkness Faith thought it probably looked like she was starting to cry, so she figured it was okay. The vampires were buying it at least; they were pleased as pie. Faith backed all the way up to the far wall, and stopped. "I'll do…I'll do whatever you want," Faith said, happy that she got her voice to hit just the right high note.

"We know you will, baby doll," the female vampire said, and moved close to Faith, and smiled. She was standing only a few feet away from Faith now. "And I like to watch." She was pretty; she had long, blonde hair and a hell of a body and a great smile. She wore a short black leather coat with a red lace corset underneath, tight black leather pants, combat boots and a black choker collar. She wore black lipstick and black nail polish and black eyeliner. Faith was a Southie girl and although Rebecca had considerably expanded her horizons and Faith even knew who Margaret Thatcher was now, she had never developed an appreciation for goths and she thought the girl looked like a reject from The Rocky Horror Picture Show. But the girl was pretty. The red lace corset was ridiculous but it nicely accentuated the girl's boobs and the leather pants hugged the girl's hips just right and Faith nearly gasped at the realization that she was attracted to this girl and that she was therefore beyond a doubt at least bisexual and maybe even a lesbian. She had been clinging to the fragile hope that maybe Buffy was the only girl she was attracted to. But now this girl was revving her engine too.

"Tell you what, cherry," the girl said, and looked back at the other vampires, and grinned. The girl had a soft, pretty voice. "You take care of me, and I'll take care of you. I'm Chanterelle. We'll get to know each other a little, okay?"

The other vampires started chuckling. Faith tried to look scared. She tried not to look horny.

What the hell, Faith thought, and looked Chanterelle up and down. Might as well enjoy the girl for the few more minutes she's alive. Chanterelle was tall and curvy, with large, nicely shaped breasts and wide hips. She had big, pretty blue eyes and soft, full lips, and her blonde hair was natural.

But there was nothing in her blue eyes; there never was, with vampires. Chanterelle was looking at Faith's neck the way a dog looks at a bone.

Faith smiled, and breathed in Buffy's scent. The vampire standing in front of her might have looked great but she still smelled like rotten meat. Buffy smelled like flowers.

Faith realized she had missed Buffy's scent; she had only been away from it for ten minutes but she had missed it.

"Wasn't talking to you hon," Faith said, and pulled her stake from her back pocket. "Talkin' to my girlfriend back there. And what the hell kind of name is 'Chanterelle'? You've been readin' Anne Rice, haven't you? Can always tell when a vamp's been readin' Anne Rice."

Chanterelle shrank back from the stake, growling, as all the vampires looked at Buffy.

"Who the fuck are you, girl?" one of the vampires said, eyeing Buffy and growling. He was a lot bigger than the rest of them, and a lot meaner. He was about 6'4", with long, dark hair. His body looked to be all muscle. He had very wide shoulders.

"Okay," Faith said. "But if you get the big one then he counts as two. He's like double as mean as any of the others. I get four and you get three."

"Sounds like a plan," Buffy said, and pulled out her stake, and moved into the alley.

"Are you fuckin' serious?" one of the vampires said. He was a lean, good- looking guy wearing jeans and a flannel shirt and the flashiest pair of cowboy boots Faith had ever seen. They were a reddish-tan color and they looked like snakeskin. They were emblazoned with swoops and whirls of yellow in a fire motif. The things were almost hypnotic.

"Those are some serious damn boots," Faith said. "My Docs are blushing over here."

The cowboy ignored her. "Couple little girls are gonna threaten us," he said, and laughed. "Well yee-haw, darlin'." He had a Southern accent, just to complete the package.

"What the fuck is this, a social call?" one of the vampires said. He had an olive complexion; Faith thought he looked Hispanic. His long hair was drawn back in a ponytail. "Let's drink these bitches and get it done."

"That was rude," Buffy said. "I think I'm gonna have to kill him for saying that."

The vampires all laughed even harder. The big one's face changed to vampire form, and the rest followed suit.

"I gotta get a piece of this bitch," one of the vampires said, and sprang at Buffy, snarling. Faith didn't get a good look at him; she caught a glimpse of a goatee and dark, curly hair before Buffy spun and kicked the vampire out of the air and sent him flying across the alley. He slammed head-first into the wall next to Faith and Faith staked him through the back before he could hit the ground.

"Shit," Faith said. She smiled at Chanterelle. Chanterelle looked back at her the way the mouse had.

"Guess I better get my licks in this time, huh cherry?" Faith said, and grabbed Chanterelle by her long hair and kneed her in the face as the rest of them came at her and Buffy. Faith noticed that the big one was running at Buffy. Cooperative. The knee to the face knocked Chanterelle for a good loop and she looked shaky as Faith threw her into the cowboy and the little bald guy. As they went down, a vampire with a swastika tattoo on his hand leaped at Faith from her left. Faith dodged him, yanked him out of the air by the elbow and slammed him head-first into the ground. She leaned down and staked him through the back as the cowboy and the bald guy ran at her again. She noticed Chanterelle was up again but she was hanging back. Faith spun and kicked the cowboy in the face and sent him flying as the bald guy leaped at her. He managed to tackle her but Faith flipped him over her head with her legs. So far, not one of the vampires could really fight. Disappointing…

Faith flipped herself back up and caught a glimpse of Buffy. Buffy had apparently dusted the Hispanic-looking one with the ponytail – at least Faith assumed she had because she couldn't see him anymore – and she was squaring off with the big guy now. Faith wished she could watch the show, but she supposed she should pay attention to her three.

"Who the fuck are you girls?" the cowboy shouted, as he circled around her with the bald guy. Chanterelle was still hanging back. Faith assumed her job was to look pretty while the guys in the group did all the heavy lifting. Faith winked at her.

"Slayers," Faith said. "Dude, don't you know anything? You been too busy hangin' around the woods in Tennessee makin' moonshine and fuckin' your cousin to get clued in? You guys are vamps. My girl and me, we're Slayers. We kill you. Comprende?"

"There's only supposed to be one Slayer," Chanterelle said, petulantly, as if it was a violation of the rules that there were two Slayers there; as if the fight should be called off now and she should be allowed to go home.

"Double your pleasure cherry," Faith said. "You shy or somethin'? Why don't you come up here and gimme a kiss."

Buffy was trading punches with the big one; he was strong but slow and he hadn't come close to actually landing a punch on her yet. She had plenty of time to watch Faith. She listened to Faith talking to Chanterelle, and watched how Faith looked at her, and wondered what the hell she was doing.

Faith blew Chanterelle a kiss. Chanterelle snarled back at her. But she was all talk. Faith could tell she was afraid. She smelled it on her. The little bald one tried leaping at her again.

"Thanks dude," Faith said, flipping him over her shoulder and slamming him into a wall. "I owe Buffy one more of you guys." She grabbed him by the waist with one hand and by the collar with the other, picked him up and heaved him across the alley in Buffy's direction. "Heads up, B," she said. The vampire hit the ground a few feet away from Buffy.

Faith noticed Buffy was still going at it with the big one. She ignored the cowboy as he circled around her, and Chanterelle as she pretended to; the girl obviously had no idea what to do next. Faith watched Buffy for a moment to make sure she wasn't in trouble. She saw Buffy was snarling, and smiling. The little bald guy got up and tried to tackle Buffy from behind as the big one wound up and threw the slowest, easiest to dodge roundhouse punch ever. Buffy giggled and ducked and the roundhouse connected with the little bald guy and sent him flying into a wall. He collapsed, unconscious. Faith smiled at the cowboy and Chanterelle.

"Yeah, so I'm havin' a rough night, y'know?" Faith said, and showed them her teeth. "My girlfriend's not puttin' out for me. She's all about the teasin'. She's been a fuckin' cocktease to me all day."

Buffy snapped her head around and stared at Faith. But Faith wasn't looking back at her; Faith was looking at Chanterelle.

The big vampire managed to get a shot in under Buffy's guard while she was distracted; it sent her sprawling. She backflipped herself out of his way as he sprang at her, and staked the bald one while he lay unconscious on the ground. She barely paid attention to the vampires; she didn't take her eyes off Faith.

"What do you think, cherry?" Faith said, snarling at Chanterelle now. "Maybe I should like, wine and dine her first? Take her somewhere nice? Think that might get me some play?" Faith leaped at Chanterelle. Chanterelle tried to dodge her but she was awkward and slow; Faith pounced on her like a cat and pinned her to the ground. Faith sensed the cowboy coming up behind her and she rolled to her side without letting go of Chanterelle and aimed a kick right at his balls. He doubled up in pain and fell to the ground.

Chanterelle took a weak swipe at Faith with her claws. Faith easily blocked it and clubbed Chanterelle in the face with her forearm, cracking her head against the ground. Chanterelle whimpered. Faith put her knee on Chanterelle's left arm and held her right arm in a wrist lock.

Chanterelle hesitated. Faith clubbed her in the face with her forearm again. Chanterelle screamed, and tears filled her eyes.

"That's better, cherry," Faith said, and smiled, and looked her in the eyes. She increased the pressure on Chanterelle's wrist. Chanterelle whimpered again.

"The fuck are you supposed to be?" Faith said, and laughed. "A vampire? You're a fucking joke." Faith leaned in close to her, and caressed her hair. "You do anything besides look pretty?" Faith whispered. Their lips were touching.

Buffy ducked another one of the big vampire's slow punches, got in under his guard, and staked him. She watched Faith.

"You fucking stay down," Faith snarled to Chanterelle, yanking her blonde hair. She saw the cowboy getting up out of the corner of her eye, about to make another run at her. "You fucking stay down or I'll hurt you worse. You get up from this fucking spot and I'll shove my stake all the way up your pretty little ass before I dust you with it. Got it, cherry?"

Chanterelle was shaking. She nodded. Faith stood up. The cowboy was circling her, and snarling.

"Bring it on, Tex," Faith said, and twirled her stake around. "Maybe I can't put the wood to my girlfriend but I sure as hell can put the wood to you."

"Shit girl, you want me to give you a poke before I drink you I'm game," the cowboy said.

"Don't flatter yourself dude," Faith said, and laughed. "Yeah, you're easy on the eyes, and I am diggin' those boots. But you're a vampire. Screwing a vampire would be fucking disgusting. I'd never lower myself like that."

"Shit, I'm not even gonna screw cherry over there, and she's real easy on the eyes," Faith said. "And I know she wants me at least."

"Guess you're gonna die unfulfilled, girl," the cowboy said, and sprang at her. Faith didn't even bother with an aikido move; she spun out of his way and staked him in mid-air as he passed.

"That was pretty fulfilling, actually," Faith said, to the pile of dust floating to the ground. "And dude? Weak-ass vamp like you so didn't deserve those boots. Those were like Clint Eastwood boots, man."

Faith could smell Chanterelle behind her. Out of the corner of her eye she could see Buffy leaning against the wall, her face red.

"You best not have left that fucking spot, cherry," Faith said, with her back turned to Chanterelle. "When I turn around, if you're not in you're fucking spot I'm gonna get plumb mad-dog mean."

Faith turned around. Chanterelle was lying where Faith had left her. Faith smiled, and showed Chanterelle her teeth.

"You can fuck me," Chanterelle said. She was crying. "Please don't…hurt me. Please don't. I'll do whatever you want. You can both fuck me if you want."

Faith thought of Rebecca, on the floor of the restaurant. A wave of nausea went through her.

Chanterelle got up and tried to put her coat on. Her hands were shaking too badly to manage it. So she ran away, carrying it in her hand…

When they got to the motel room Buffy found her purse and marched right back to the door. Then she turned, and looked back at Faith.

"Could you have been any more fucking crude and insulting?" Buffy said. "Could you have treated me any more like shit?"

"You think I'm stupid?! That I didn't see what you were doing? That I don't know what all that bullshit with that girl was about?!"

"Seems to me you say a lot of things you don't mean, B. First I'm stupid then I'm not. First we can't kiss but then when you're feelin' a little horny suddenly we can. First you're my girl and then…"

"Want me to be your girl, huh?" Buffy said. "You sure you don't mean your whore? Maybe if you take me out somewhere nice I'll put out for you. Wine and dine me, Faith. Maybe all I need is for you to spend some money on me and I'll put out."

"How could you humiliate me like that?" Buffy said. "How could you say those things?"

"Buffy," Faith said, and touched her shoulder, and tried to hug her. "I like you. I didn't…mean all that stuff like…"

The next day, Faith sat in her motel room eating potato chips and drinking a Coke and watching a repeat of one of those cop shows where the whole show is about how they collect evidence and find fingerprints and carpet fibers and drops of blood and do ballistics tests on guns. She missed NYPD Blue.

Faith didn't like the cop show but there was nothing else on except soap operas and they were worse. And there was nothing to do besides watch TV.

"Almost there, Becca," Faith said, to the empty room. "Tryin' for a nice liquid consistency."

At least at night she could go out hunting. But the days were hard, now… the days were hard without Rebecca. The days were hard in the empty room.

Buffy and Willow and Xander got to go to school during the day. Faith remembered how Rebecca wanted her to get her GED, and go to college after that if she wanted to. It was a lifetime ago. It was a week ago.

She had three-hundred and eighty-two dollars left. It was enough to pay for a bus ticket to Cleveland, and maybe a week at a shitty motel out there.

A familiar scent came to her. Willow. Faith let her senses reach out. Willow was alone. Faith hadn't expected Buffy to be with her anyway.

"Um…hi," Willow said, and smiled. She was wearing a pink Hello Kitty tee-shirt and jeans and pink sneakers, and Faith thought she looked adorable.

The tee-shirt showed off Willow's breasts nicely; they were bigger than Faith had thought. The jeans were nice and tight. Faith liked how Willow looked in the tee-shirt and the jeans. She liked how she smelled too. Faith wondered if there was a girl in Sunnydale she wasn't attracted to. It was like someone had whacked her with a lesbian stick the moment she got off the bus.

"Um…did you smell me coming?" Willow said, and sat on the bed. "You did, didn't you? You totally smelled me."

"Slayer thing," Faith said. "You don't got B.O. or nothin'. So what's goin' on? Uh…you want something to drink? Got Coke and Sprite."

"Sprite's good," Willow said. Faith walked into the bathroom, came back with a Sprite for Willow and another Coke for herself, popped the top off of Willow's Sprite and gave it to her. She sat next to her on the bed.

"You look good," Faith said. "The bruise is almost all gone. So how are you feeling? You doin' okay?"

"Is there really a Slayer handbook? Kendra mentioned one but I've never seen it."

"Yeah, Becca said there is. I've never seen it either though. Becca told me she never bothered with it. Called it 'rubbish'."

"So what do I smell like? Like, y'know, how you smelled me coming? Do I smell good?"

"Well…probably not. But trust me Will, you smell good. If you didn't I'd be sitting far away. You smell like strawberries to me."

Willow thought about it. Strawberries were sort of nice. They tasted good, when they were ripe; before they were ripe they tasted really sour. The problem was they were almost never ripe: they were either not quite ripe yet or starting to go bad. Willow was good at math and she knew the ripeness window with strawberries was really only theoretical. It was like imaginary numbers. They spent all week in your refrigerator not being ripe and you just knew they were going to taste sour and lame so you avoided them all week and then just when you were looking forward to having one they had suddenly gotten overripe and they were mushy and there was weird gross icky fuzz growing on some of them. But they made bubble bath that smelled like strawberries. They made really expensive shampoo that smelled like strawberries too. Strawberries smelled good.

"I like strawberries," Willow said, and drank her Sprite. "Um…I'm glad I smell good. I'd be all, y'know, mopey if I smelled bad."

Willow nodded. "She told me in school today that you guys didn't have a chance to do the tour of Sunnydale thing, so I want to take you," she said.

"Sure. There's this big English test tomorrow that Buffy totally needs to bone up for tonight, or she'd take you. But I'm free. And I thought, y'know, maybe we could hang."

Faith knew Buffy didn't want to see her. Faith knew Willow was only doing this because she felt bad for her.

"Yup," Willow said. "There'll be a little less of an emphasis on shoe shopping on the Willow tour, but you'll see more stuff. Buffy's tour would have really been more of a look around all the shoe stores. Love the girl dearly, but she's got a serious shoe-shopping problem. I think she needs an intervention. So how about it? I got my Mom's car with me, I can show you the whole town. We can hit the mall, I can show you all the cemeteries if you want, and there are some pretty nice restaurants around Sunnydale too. And we might check out a shoe store. But just one. Um, two. No more than two."

She was sitting in school with Buffy in the little student lounge area by the candy machines during their free period the next day. She was drinking an extra-large super mocha cappuccino with lots of sugar and cocoa sprinkles and Buffy had a latte. Jealous underclassmen frowned at them. They didn't get free periods.

Willow could even leave the school grounds now, any time she wanted to. She drank her extra-large super mocha cappuccino with lots of sugar and cocoa sprinkles, and smiled. She and Buffy had gone to the Starbucks during lunch. Underclassmen couldn't go to the Starbucks. They couldn't go anywhere.

Buffy wasn't smiling. She looked down at her history notebook, and read through her notes without actually reading them, and tried to act casual.

"Yup," Willow said, looking down at her laptop and checking her e-mail. A quarter of it was spam. She'd been keeping track of spam since she'd first encountered it a few years before. It was getting worse. It was becoming a serious pain in the entire world's ass. It made e-mail tedious. Willow thought she should probably do something about spam at some point. Maybe there was a god she could call upon. "We hit the mall, and I showed her the Magic Box, and then we went to a restaurant, that Italian place downtown? 'Grappolo'? Then I took her by all the cemeteries after that. Faith insisted on paying for the restaurant. I kept trying to pay and she kept saying no and I kept explaining to her how she was like my guest and I should pay but she kept saying no and it got like a Monty Python skit after awhile – simply saying 'No it isn't' isn't an argument. Yes it is! No it isn't! Yes it is! No it isn't! – and anyway she ended up buying me dinner."

"Someday I'm gonna tie you down in the comfy chair and make you watch every episode."

"I'll have weapons. Amongst my weaponry are such diverse elements as fear, surprise, ruthless efficiency, an almost fanatical devotion to the Pope, and a nice red uniform. Plus I'll poke you with soft cushions."

"I knew I'd get a smile out of you eventually," Willow said, and closed her laptop. "Just had to keep pluggin' away. Hey. Do I smell like strawberries?"

"Yeah, " Willow said. "When I went over her place yesterday she did that Slayer thing? Y'know, where she like, knew I was at the door before I rang the bell? And I asked her if she smelled me and she said yeah, and when I asked her what I smell like she said strawberries."

"How come you never told me I smell like strawberries?"
"Never came up I guess. Why? You don't like strawberries?"

"It's just so final. Like this big decision was made about me and I wasn't consulted. Now I'm like, this strawberry person forever. What if I wanna be bananas? Or like, orchids? Or waffles? Now I'm just always strawberries."

"I like strawberries. I gotta admit though, it'd be kinda fun if you smelled like waffles all the time. I'd be like, 'Mmmmm, waffles.' But then I'd always want to eat you. Um…and we will now pretend I never said that."

"I hate when you do this," Buffy said. "You never should've signed up for that psychology elective. There was a perfectly good philosophy course you could've taken instead."

"I'm with Faith, philosophy's a bunch of horse puckey," Willow said. "Life's about living, not wondering how to live. Besides, the psychology class gave me some insights into certain people who shall remain nameless and all their weird martyrdom issues."

"Don't take this the wrong way? But…you and Faith…you seem like two really different people to me. You don't seem like a natural match."

"You think I'm a tough girl? But I like being a girly girl. I mean, yeah, okay, I kill bad guys, but, like, in a totally cute and lovable way."

"Don't worry, you're girly enough. You still get annoyed whenever you break a nail on patrol. And actually, Faith's a lot like you, y'know. And you think you and me are a natural match, right?"

"Well, there you go. I work with Buffy and I work with Faith. I'm like peanut butter, and you guys are like marshmallow fluff and chocolate syrup."

"I'm leaning toward fluff," Willow said. "More girly. Faith can be the chocolate syrup. She looks like a chocolate girl to me. Or maybe she's jelly. If I'm peanut butter I go good with jelly too. But maybe Xander should be jelly… okay, this is actually getting really complicated now."

"Faith can be chocolate syrup," Buffy said. "I like chocolate syrup."
"Cool," Willow said. "And then you add me in and I'm totally in the middle of an awesome Buffy and Faith sandwich."

"Um…y'know…'cuz I'm peanut butter," Willow said, lamely. "We make… y'know…a fluffernutter sandwich."

"I think it's time for us to back away from the metaphor slowly, and not make any sudden movements," Buffy said.

"Yeah. She's what you could have been, Buffy. If things didn't turn out so good. She's got problems, she's got a lot of stuff goin' on, you heard what Giles said. But she's still a good person. She still tries. The way you would. And I'm pretty sure she's got that same martyrdom complex as The Buffy Who Shall Remain Nameless too."

"But not the shoe compulsion. No one's as compulsive about shoes as The Buffy Who Shall Remain Nameless."

"Faith's had lousy luck. It's made her like a porcupine, kinda. Prickly, hard to approach. I did like ninety percent of the talking yesterday. But I'm not giving up on her. And you know what I like best about her? She didn't want to be there yesterday, right? I mean, I think she likes me but she doesn't really wanna let me in. She doesn't wanna let anyone in. But I wanted to drag her around town and she went with me. And she tried her best to act interested in stuff I brought up that she completely doesn't care about, and I thought I was doing the tour of Sunnydale for her, but really? She was doing it for me. She acted interested even when I talked about the proper way to grind up mandrake root. She doesn't want me to think she doesn't like me. She worried about my feelings."

"You talk about Monty Python at her? She might draw the line at pretending to be interested in Monty Python."

"I'm gonna kinda ease her into Monty Python. So what's going on with you guys? What happened?"

Buffy laughed, without humor. She gulped down the rest of her latte. She needed the latte. She'd gotten about two hours of sleep.

"It's funny," Buffy said. "I've hung out with the girl like three times and ended up getting into a fight with her two days out of three. The only time we're not fighting is when we're…" she caught herself. "When we're not hanging out."

Willow wondered how long it would be before Buffy finally told her that she and Faith were having sex.

Willow put her hand on Buffy's shoulder. "So do something about it," she said. "You're marshmallow fluff, sweetie. Go get with your chocolate syrup."

"I told you he'd get obsessive about this," Willow said. "He's gonna be talking about it forever now."

"It's Han," Xander said. "Lucas changed it so Han doesn't shoot first. What about if I'm the peanut butter? And Will can be the jelly. That way…"

School was over and they were heading outside. As they walked out the doors into a beautiful, clear, sunny afternoon, navigating their way through a horde of stir-crazy teenagers, Buffy detected Faith's scent. She looked around. At the end of the long, stone path through the lawn, she saw Faith sitting at the top of the stairs, facing away from the school, looking out at the street.

Willow and Xander continued their discussion about peanut butter, marshmallow fluff, chocolate syrup and jelly. Xander was proposing adding a fifth food item but Willow was refusing to even consider it because the whole system was complicated enough already. They walked down the path. Willow and Xander didn't know Faith was at the end of it. Buffy was quiet beside them.

"Hey Xander, I um, forgot something in my chem class," Willow said, and stopped, and took his arm. "I gotta go get it. Come back with me?"

"Marshmallow fluff goes great with chocolate syrup," she whispered in Buffy's ear, and then walked back to the school with Xander.

"Hey," Buffy said. Buffy stopped beside her, and looked out at the street. Faith was looking down at the stairs.

"You in the market for an apology?" Faith said. "Got an apology I'm lookin' to unload."

"Maybe," Buffy said. "But it would have to be a really great apology. And I'll want to check the merchandise first before I buy."

Faith got up, and Buffy led her across the lawn. Eventually, they stopped beneath a tall willow tree.

Buffy leaned against the tree with her arms folded across her chest, and waited. Faith hadn't looked at her while she was sitting on the steps and she hadn't looked at her as they walked across the lawn and she still wasn't looking at her now.

Faith was looking at the kids spilling out of the school. They looked like prisoners who had just finished serving their sentences: a little shell-shocked, squinting up at the sun, but happy. Faith knew the kids had no idea how lucky they were. They'd go home to Moms and Dads and brothers and sisters who loved them. Toss the football around, maybe some Playstation before dinner.

Faith finally looked at Buffy. It was a hot day and Buffy was wearing a halter top that showed a lot of her back and a short skirt with a slit up the side that showed a lot of her leg. She looked beautiful. She always looked beautiful.

"I've been thinking about the stuff I said, about that whole day," Faith said. "I was wrong. This isn't me putting the blame on you, okay? I was the one who said mean, spiteful hurtful stuff and made you feel like…like I don't respect you. I take the blame for that, I ran my mouth and talked a lot of shit and acted like a dick. But I've been trying to figure out why I did it."

"It was a weird day, y'know?" Faith said, and crouched down under the tree, and looked down at the grass. "You came in and I was…I was nervous. I was nervous because of what happened the day before. Because I thought I didn't want it to happen again. I mean, the day before, when we did it, we were both freaked out afterwards and we were both all like 'It never happened'. And I was right with you on that, I didn't want it to happen again, I was freaked out by it too. I mean, for Christ's sake, I like guys. I have a guy, in Boston. But, by the next day…turns out I did want it to happen again. I missed it, missed being with you, and I wanted it again."

"So you walk in and you look real pretty and you smell real nice and everything and I was practically bouncing off the walls in there," Faith said. "I kept telling myself I was sort of like, laying down the law a little? Laying down the law when I was being all flirty with you. Like, 'Yeah, maybe I want you but you can only have me if it's the way I want it.' Or maybe like, 'I can be all flirty and stuff now because I'm so over how we got horizontal that I can totally goof about it, it wasn't a big deal.'"

"Yeah," Faith said. She stood up, and leaned back against the tree beside Buffy. The school was clearing out now; the big lawn was almost empty. Faith saw Willow and Xander walk out the front doors, down the path toward the stairs. Xander noticed her, and waved. Faith waved back. When Xander started walking toward them Willow grabbed his arm and led him back down the path toward the street. "But underneath all that, what I wasn't clueing myself into was that I really wasn't over it and I wanted it again," Faith said, turning back to Buffy. "And I kinda got a little hyper I guess and I teased you a little…and then…"

"And then I teased you back," Buffy said. "I told myself I was calming you down and just trying to get us both relaxed about the sex stuff so we could talk. And that was part of it but…the other part was I wanted it too. I wanted it, with you. And I don't know why. I'm…not gay. I've never liked girls."

Faith knew Buffy was lying. She wished Buffy wouldn't lie to her. Rebecca was right: lies complicated things, they made things harder. But Faith figured Buffy needed the lie…maybe even needed to believe it herself.

"We made a choice," Faith said. "We both made a choice and you tried to do the smart thing and stick to it but when our noses tuned into those vamps it was like a switch went off in me, y'know? The Slayer was in charge and I was all about the kills…but not just the kills. It was like everything in my life suddenly just got real clear and I knew exactly what I wanted. I wanted to kill those vamps and I wanted you in my bed."

"I didn't totally stick to it," Buffy said. "I liked being in your bed. I liked having your hand on my boobs as we slept. I liked the kiss goodnight. But…we made a choice. I don't like girls, Faith, I'm not…that way. Yeah, okay, I like you but you're like the one exception in the world. And I have a guy, we both have guys, and I don't want to cheat. I don't want to be the kind of person who cheats."

Faith thought about Evan. He seemed very far away, now. And she knew she could never go back to him. So what was the point of being loyal to him?

"Me neither," Faith said. "But when you said I still have you and I asked you to prove it…I wasn't thinking about my guy, all I was thinking about was you. And when I tried to get something going and you said we shouldn't just go back on what we decided without talking it out first, you were right, you were using your head, but I wouldn't listen. All I heard was you don't want me and I got…I don't know."

"But I know you didn't mean it that way," Faith said. "You were talkin' sense and I was being dumb and not listening, same as always."

"So anyway that girl vamp…Chanterelle," Faith said. "I gotta admit, I thought she was real pretty. And before you got to the alley, when I was doing my little girl lost bit, she was all mackin' on me, all in my space battin' her lashes at me like we were gonna get horizontal and put on a show for the guys, and maybe that's what she was planning. I was horny for you and now this chick's all in my face and I was still hurtin' a little from feeling like you rejected me and I just…I just started saying stuff, it just came out. But I didn't mean it Buffy, I'm sorry. I don't…I don't think of you that way. Those words. 'Putting out', and 'cocktease', all those mean words. I don't think those kinds of words about you. You're a smart, classy girl and all you've ever tried to do is be nice to me. I'm sorry."

"C'mere," Buffy said, and took Faith's hand, and drew her close, and hugged her.

"No, B, I swear, I didn't," Faith said, and touched Buffy's cheek, and looked her in the eyes. "I didn't."

"You did," Buffy said. "And I don't blame you. You said it in a mean way because you were pissed off at me but you were telling the truth the way you saw it. I was teasing you. I didn't set out to but that's how it ended up. And I led you on a little, and then I turned you away. That's not how it seemed to me when I was doing it, that's not what I was trying to do, but I can see how that's the way it looked to you and it wasn't right of me to do that to you. And I think it hurt you, more than you let on then, more than you're letting on now. And I'm sorry. That stuff you said to the vampire girl…all that stuff you were acting out with her? I think you felt like I used you a little and then rejected you when I was done with you. I think…you kinda felt like I had all the power back in the motel room and that I was using you just to get my kicks, and you wanted to take some power back and get some kicks for yourself. I think you were pissed at me but you didn't feel like you could say any of that stuff to me, you couldn't tell me how you were really feeling, so you said it to the blonde vampire girl standing in front of you instead. I think she was like, your Buffy substitute."

"I'm sorry, Faith," Buffy said. "I haven't always been nice to you. I was mean to you and I hurt you when we first met in the cemetery and I hurt you again a couple of days ago and I'm sorry."

"Maybe we can start over every day. Like every time we see each other I can be like, hey Buffy, my name's Faith, I'm new in town from Boston…"

"Then I take you shoe shopping and we go kill some vamps afterwards. Sounds like a plan."

Buffy found herself running her fingers through Faith's hair. She stopped herself once she realized what she was doing.

"It's okay," Faith said, and took Buffy's hand, and brought it back to her hair. "I like when you do that."

"Buffy…look," Faith said. "I like you a lot and I like being with you but neither of us wants to cheat on our guys."

Faith knew it was a lie the moment she said it. She knew she was lying to Buffy, and she knew she was lying to herself. But she also knew that Buffy really didn't want to cheat on her guy…whoever he was. And maybe this would make things easier for Buffy. Buffy was gay and refusing to admit it and she was in a relationship with a guy and she was in love with her best friend who was a girl and she was having an affair with yet another girl. So Faith figured Buffy could use all the help she could get.

"But sometimes…sometimes it's hard for me," Faith said. "Especially when I'm all like, in Slayer mode. But even though I want you that way I want you as a friend too. I don't wanna risk losing that."

"We…figure it out as we go, I guess," Buffy said. "We try to remember each other's feelings, and not hurt each other."

"I can't help it. Whenever I'm with you I just want to kiss you and touch your hair. I think…we're gonna need some rules. Like…"

"We could maybe start by not being like, all naked together all the time. I think I've seen you more naked than I have with clothes on. Not complaining or nothin', but…"

"The scary thing is?" Buffy said. "If you like, add up all the time we've hung out together, like rounded it off to the hour maybe? I'm pretty sure you're right. I think we really have been naked together more than we've had our clothes on. Not that I'm complaining either. I could look at that butt of yours all day."

"I'm totally jealous," Buffy said. "It's all like, perfectly round and muscular and it sticks out just the right amount. Okay, we definitely need some rules. Rule number one. No nakedness."

"That's a tough one," Faith said. "These rules are getting tough now. I like kissing you. But…kissing can lead to other things."

"That's my favorite rule so far," Buffy said, as she caressed Faith's hair. "Rule number five, we can hug. We can totally hug whenever we want."

"My Mom still wants you over for dinner," Buffy said. "You wanna come to my house for dinner tonight?"

"She's been threatening to make meat loaf lately," Buffy said. "I talked her out of it a couple times last week but I don't think I can make her put it off forever. Sometimes you just have to grit your teeth and eat the meat loaf."

"I'm chocolate syrup?" Faith said, as they approached Buffy's house. The street was sunny and lined with big, beautiful trees, mostly palms but with some other types mixed in. Down the block a girl was riding a tricycle. Across the street a man was mowing his lawn. Birds sang in the trees, and the air smelled sweet.

"Yeah," Buffy said, as they came to her house. "And I'm marshmallow fluff and Will's peanut butter. It's a whole thing. Just remember that marshmallow fluff and chocolate syrup go great together."

Buffy's house stood about twenty feet back from the sidewalk, at the end of a concrete path that cut through the big front lawn, flanked by palm trees. It was a two-story house, long and low, painted white with blue trim. Two gables projected out from the low, gray shingled roof, and there was a wide front porch. The roof overhung the porch and it was supported by four white pillars. Buffy and Faith turned into the front lawn and walked down the path. The grass was freshly mowed. There were rose bushes, and a bright flower patch beneath the windows with tulips and daffodils and azaleas and nasturtiums and other flowers Faith didn't recognize. There was a peach tree, in bloom.

"See the window up there?" Buffy said, pointing to a big window on the second floor beneath the gable on the right, as they approached the house. "That's my bedroom." They walked through a gap in a low hedge that ran around the front of the house, and climbed a short flight of steps to the front door.

Faith looked around. The door was flanked by tall picture windows. There was a sprawling umbrella plant in an urn near the door and there were hanging plants all around the front porch, spider plants and pothos and ferns and ivy; they all looked thick and green and healthy. There were three wicker chairs on the porch arranged around a wicker table with a fiberglass top. A Teddy bear sat in one of the chairs. The bear was wearing a white dress shirt with a black tie and blue trousers with a gold stripe down the side, and a blue military jacket with various medals sewn to the chest, shoulder straps bordered in gold with metal stars affixed to them, and sleeves trimmed with gold piping. It wore a blue service cap with an eagle insignia affixed to the crown and a silver leaf motif on the visor.

"That's General Paddington," Buffy said. "He got on my nerves when I was six years old back in L.A. because he was always ordering around all my other stuffed animals at the tea parties, so I started keeping him outside. He guards the house against enemy invaders now."

"He's one bad-ass bear," Faith said. "He's kinda eyeballin' me though. I think he wants me to drop and give him twenty."

"He's suspicious of visitors," Buffy said. "It's the whole guarding against invaders thing. For all he knows you might be like, an enemy agent."

Buffy unlocked the door and they walked into a little foyer with a tiffany lamp on an end table and an African mask hanging on the wall above it that looked like a crow's head.

"It's an African mask," Buffy said. "My Mom runs an art gallery, she's way into creepy African masks. It's all fun and games until one of them starts reanimating all the dead bodies in town and suddenly you're fighting fifty zombies in your living room."

"Your Mom had an African mask that brought dead bodies back to life?" Faith said.

"Well, she didn't do it on purpose, but yeah," Buffy said. "Welcome to Sunnydale."

They walked into a hallway, and Faith saw a living room leading off it to the left and a dining room leading off it to the right. Stairs led up to the second floor. And Buffy's bedroom.

"It's about time you got here," Joyce said, and hugged Faith. Faith felt awkward. She returned the hug, and tried to hide it.

"Come in, come in," Joyce said, and beckoned Faith into the living room. "I'm cooking dinner now. And thank you for the advance notice, Buffy," Joyce added, and smiled back at Buffy. "It gave me plenty of time to prepare something really special for Faith's first dinner here."

"She's being sarcastic," Buffy said, and sat on the couch. "Isn't she fun when she's sarcastic?" Faith sat next to her. The couch they were sitting on was a big, comfy chocolate brown monstrosity that you sank into, with burgundy throw pillows. Two dark wood side tables stood on either end of the couch, with a little tiffany lamp on each. The coffee table was made from the same dark wood. There was a gold and black and burgundy oriental rug covering most of the hardwood floor, and the wallpaper was gold with a subtle floral print. Two dark wood chairs with beige cushions and deep red plaid chenille throws draped over them sat around the couch. More African masks adorned the walls, all representing animals: there was a giraffe and a lion and what looked like an elephant, but Faith wasn't sure. There was a big landscape painting hanging over the fireplace; it was an impressionist painting of birds flying over a stormy sea and Faith thought it was probably what the painting in her motel room wanted to be when it grew up.

The living room was cozy and warm and intimate and also pretty fabulous; Joyce had good taste. But it was so cozy that just being there made Faith want to curl up in Buffy's lap and go to sleep. She put the thought out of her mind. If sleeping with her head in Buffy's lap in front of a fireplace wasn't against one of their new rules Faith thought it probably should be.

"Plus the cool thing about you being here is she won't yell at me in front of you, so I can totally get away with stuff," Buffy said.

"That's an interesting theory," Joyce said, with a big smile. "Do you think it'll hold up under rigorous testing?"

There wasn't a fire going in the fireplace; the weather had been too hot lately. Faith remembered the fireplace in Rebecca's house…how she and Evan had sat in front of it once, on a cold night in early spring, when the fire was going, and Rebecca wasn't home.

"Remember those earrings I borrowed, and how I keep on, um, forgetting to give them back?" Buffy said. "I kind of, um, lost them when I was out patrolling. From now on, I hereby pledge not to wear fabulous jewelry when I'm patrolling. Especially not your jewelry."
Buffy smiled. Joyce smiled too, but she had to put more effort into it.

Faith and Evan hadn't done anything when they sat in front of the fireplace that night; they hadn't even kissed. But she had curled up with her head on his shoulder.

He was gone, and she couldn't ever have him. But sometimes she still felt like she was cheating on him. She felt like she was cheating on him now. She kept going back and forth…

Faith looked away from the fireplace, pushed the memories away…pushed Evan away.

"I'll do my best but I don't know B, your Mom looks pretty tough," Faith said. "If it came down to it I bet she could kick my butt."

"Faith, would you like something to drink?" Joyce said. "There's soda, and orange juice, and apple juice, and fruit punch, and…well actually just assume I have everything and tell me what you'd like to drink. And I'd never kick your butt. That would just be rude. Buffy's butt, on the other hand…"

Buffy's hands were still on Faith's shoulders, and Buffy was still hiding behind her. Faith heard Buffy giggling in her ear.

"How come you're always badmouthin' your Mom's meat loaf?" Faith said. "It's pretty good. Throw in the corn and mashed potatoes and that was one righteous dinner."

"Wow. First you have a crush on Giles, now you actually like my Mom's meat loaf," Buffy said. "Maybe I should just hang my head in shame and take off, let you be the Slayer here from now on. I could go to college and get my degree and like, live happily ever after as a fabulous socialite. Who's married to a rock star. Or a movie star. I'm not choosy."

They were sitting on Buffy's bed. The bedroom was big and bright with hardwood floors and a king-sized bed covered with fluffy pillows. There was a desk without any homework on it; Buffy seemed to be using it to stack her CD's. There was a respectable stereo system, and a big walk-in closet, and a steamer trunk in the corner. A poster of Gavin Rossdale was taped to the wall above the stereo, but there was a much bigger poster of Lauren Bacall in Dark Passage on the wall across from the bed and an even bigger poster of Ava Gardner hanging next to that. Faith noticed Ava was showing a lot of leg. She knew Gavin was Buffy's beard.

The room was wonderful; Faith wished she could sleep there. There were maybe one or two more stuffed animals than Faith thought were strictly required, but it was still the kind of room she always dreamed of having when she was growing up…the kind of room she had when she was with Rebecca.

But the best thing about it was that it smelled like Buffy; her scent was everywhere in the room, on every surface. It was strongest on the bed.

"They better have fabulous socialite degrees," Buffy said, and sat next to Faith on the bed, and played with her hair. "Because I have no idea what else to major in when I go to college."

"Is there a rule against me sleeping with my head in your lap?" Faith said. "Did we make a rule against that?"

"Not specifically. I don't think we made any anti-cuddling rules. Sleeping in the same bed is sort of like just hugging while laying down, so I think it's allowed. But we'd have to be careful not to let it turn into naked sleeping. All our sleeping always becomes naked sleeping."

"You want me to lie down with you for a little while before we go on patrol?" Buffy said.

"Okay," Buffy said, and lay down next to Faith. "But we have to be real careful not to fall asleep. My Mom sees us asleep in bed together and, um…well, let's just say that would get kind of awkward."

"Your Mom wouldn't be cool with how you're secretly such a big pervo lesbian?" Faith said.

"You wish," Buffy said, and giggled. "No, my Mom's okay. I mean, she freaks about stuff sometimes but once she's calmed down and gets herself out of Ultra-Mom mode and like, takes a breath she's usually pretty reasonable about stuff. Still, me in bed with a girl might test the reasonableness."

"Plus there's that thing with the earrings," Faith said. "Joyce is already at Defcon two now, better not test her."

"Yeah, I'm a pro at it. I used to have Willow run interference for me all the time. She's just so pretty and huggable that my Mom can't ever get angry at me when she's around. But then Will got wise and made me promise to stop. And I can't use Xander because he secretly has the hots for my Mom and he always takes her side. He would've been all like, 'Yeah Buffy, how lame is it that you lost your Mom's earrings? I can't believe you lost her earrings.'"

"You like this, baby?" Buffy said, and kissed Faith's forehead. "You like lying down with me like this?"

"Me too. But it's early, it's like seven. Once we get outta this bed and get our game faces on we'll feel wide awake again and we'll be totally all about the girl-on-vamp violence. But it'll be cute, sassy violence. And forehead kisses aren't covered by rule three."

It was nearly two in the morning. They were on their third cemetery. They had killed more than twenty vampires.

After they had gotten up out of the bed and gotten their game faces on things hadn't quite gone according to plan because then Faith had decided she wanted to explore every possible loophole in rule number three – if forehead kisses were allowed, what about kisses on the cheek? Or the shoulder? Or the neck? – and then they had decided to lie back down on the bed again but just for a little while, and then Faith had asked if massages violated any rules, and Buffy had said not technically but then she had said something about the spirit of the law versus the letter of the law. But by that point Faith had already started massaging Buffy's shoulders so the argument was moot, and then Buffy had rolled over and pulled Faith's arm around her, and Faith had kissed the back of her neck for awhile, and then suddenly it was ten o'clock and they both realized they had fallen asleep.

So they got up and got their game faces on (again) and this time they managed to make it out of the bedroom. Buffy peeked in on her mother – Joyce was in the little sitting room talking long distance to her goofy hick friend Claire from Idaho, and she smiled at Buffy and Faith in that exact way that Buffy knew meant she had no idea that her daughter had been sleeping with a girl and everything was fine, and then she told them not to stay out too late and made Faith promise to come over for dinner again on Friday and shooed them away. Claire was goofy and a hick and she kept talking about the environment all the time and she knitted Buffy a new horrible sweater every Christmas, and Buffy actually had to wear them whenever Claire came to visit so as not to hurt her feelings, but Buffy knew she owed Claire one tonight.

And they were out the door and the night was all around them and their senses reached out and caught all the smells, and they felt their hearts beating, and they bared their teeth. They were Slayers again. They were hunters and the world existed for the sole purpose of providing them with prey: it was simply a fact and it was so obvious that Buffy and Faith couldn't believe they had forgotten it. They sprinted to the nearest cemetery, racing each other and laughing.

They wanted to fuck when they got to the cemetery; they nearly did. It was dicey for the first few minutes. They wanted to fuck and they were Slayers now and they couldn't for the life of them understand why they weren't supposed to fuck. They both knew there was a reason, and it had seemed like a good one at the time…but they just couldn't remember it. They both wished, not for the first time, that they could simply discard every single thing about themselves that wasn't the Slayer. They wandered through that first cemetery for awhile, all their senses reaching out…but reaching out only to each other.

Buffy took Faith in her arms and leaned her against a tree, and growled softly, and dragged her teeth across Faith's neck, as Faith purred for her. She breathed in Faith's scent. Buffy knew that scent belonged to her and she knew she would kill anyone else who ever tried to have it. She knew that if the guy Faith had waiting for her back in Boston ever tried to take Faith from her she'd kill him.

Faith knelt down in front of her, and took off Buffy's skirt and pulled down Buffy's panties. Buffy stepped out of them, and took Faith by the hair, and brought her mouth to her pussy…and then they caught the scent of their prey. Their priorities changed. Killing was even better than fucking.

"No, the thing you did with that vamp's wrist," Buffy said. "You know, the skinny vamp with all the tattoos? You had him down and you did something with his wrist so he completely couldn't move."

They were calmer, now. They still wanted to fuck but they could control the urge. The killing had pleasured them in a way tongues and fingers never could; touched them in deeper places. The Slayers in them weren't hungry, anymore. The Slayers hadn't relinquished control yet, but they were satisfied. Buffy and Faith were able to remember all the reasons they shouldn't fuck now. They just didn't agree with any of them.

"Yeah," Faith said. "You should get naked, get down on your knees and lick my pussy until I come. Then you should let me do the same to you."

"Okay," Faith said. "So come at me like you're a vamp. You don't gotta get fancy, just take a run at me. But try to land a good punch on me."

Buffy ran at her. Her instinct was to feint with her right and sneak in under Faith's guard with her left – that's what she would have done if this were real – but she didn't want to risk hitting Faith so she went with the right without feinting. But she didn't telegraph the punch; she didn't want to make it too easy. She decided if she ended up hitting Faith she'd just kiss her until she felt better, and rule number three could fuck off. Buffy hated rule number three.

As Buffy threw the punch Faith suddenly wasn't where she was supposed to be anymore and then somehow Buffy was spinning around and her arm was behind her back. Faith swept her legs out from under her before Buffy could even begin to free herself and Buffy was on the ground on her knees, with her right arm held up in the air behind her back with her wrist bent a weird way. She tried to move her arm. Faith wasn't holding her nearly as tightly as Buffy knew she could. Buffy thought she could probably move her arm if she put all her strength into it.

"I'm a total fuckin' bad ass is what happened, girlfriend," Faith said. "You okay? I'm not hurting you or anything, am I?"

"I don't want to hurt you," Faith said, and let Buffy go, and helped her up. "A real wrist lock hurts."

"I want you to do it for real," Buffy said. "I can't understand it unless it's for real. I can take the pain. I trust you."

"You didn't come at me anywhere near as sneaky as you could've," Faith said. "We're doing this for real, you gotta come at me with a real punch."

"I can take the pain," Faith said. "Unless I see a real punch you're not gettin' a real wrist lock. I've watched you fight, lover, I know how bad ass you can be when you're trying. I want the whole package."

"I kinda want you to hurt me," Faith said, and smiled. "It would be interesting. Be like having you in a way I haven't yet. We threw each other around a little that first time gettin' horizontal in the vamp house but you never actually hit me. I kinda want that. I wanna bleed for you. But don't worry, I'm not gonna let you land a punch."

"Hate to break it to ya B, but I'm better. I've watched you fight. Sure, you're a bad ass, and I'm not saying I'm stronger or faster or nothin' – actually I think you might be faster than me – but I've been trained up by Becca and that means I win."

"Nothing personal, B," Faith said. "This isn't about me, it's about Becca. You don't get how much of a bad ass she was. You think she was like Giles, right? She wasn't. If Becca had trained you up instead of me you'd beat me easy peasy. But I was her girl. So, you and me fight? I win."

"You're gonna have to prove it, baby," Buffy said, still smiling, but growling a little now, and baring her teeth.

Buffy came at her again. Buffy was fast; this time Faith could tell she was serious and she was using all her speed. Buffy feinted with her right and threw a left hook that was too fast to dodge even for Faith. But Faith didn't need to dodge it. Instead she took Buffy's arm in mid-air and redirected it, going with Buffy's motion, and before Buffy knew what was happening she was spun around again and her arm was up behind her back somehow and her legs were swept out from under her and she was back on her knees on the ground, and Faith was crouched behind her holding her arm up in the air. Buffy's wrist hurt this time; in fact her whole arm hurt. She tried to move it and got even more pain for her trouble.

"Don't let go," Buffy said. "Keep the pressure up. Tell me exactly what you're doing and how this works. Nice move by the way."

"Thanks. You're faster than me," Faith said. "I suspected it before but now I know it. I wanted to dodge your punch but I knew I couldn't, you're too fast. So I redirected it. Notice how I didn't yank you around or anything?"

"Yeah. One second I'm aiming a punch and then all of a sudden my arm's not going where I want it to, but it didn't feel like you even really touched it."

"Just nudged it a little. I used your momentum. Once you throw a punch or a kick, once you let it loose, it's loose; the momentum's out there and it's like a runaway train. It's hard for you to redirect it. But an outside force can redirect it no problem. All I gotta do is nudge you a little to knock you off course. It's basic aikido, using your opponent's strength against him. Becca taught me aikido specifically because it's the one martial art that can really work against a Slayer, it's all holds and throws, it's all about defeating someone who's stronger than you by using his strength against him. Even after I became the Slayer Becca still whaled on me every damn day with the aikido when she was training me."

"Rebecca was one tough cookie," Buffy said. "Giles never whales on me. It wouldn't be polite." Faith was behind her, crouched very close to her. Buffy felt Faith's breath, warm on the back of her neck. Faith was holding her down with one hand and Buffy was completely immobilized, and on her knees; she knew this must be what Faith's prey felt like. She was Faith's prey.

With her other hand, Faith ran her fingers through Buffy's hair. Buffy realized Faith could do anything she wanted to do to her with that free hand, and she wouldn't be able to stop her. She felt her pussy getting wet.

Buffy tried to focus. She let her senses reach out. It was late and there were no sounds but the crickets in the cemetery. The cemetery was one of the newer ones and it was always well-tended; it smelled like fresh-cut grass, and all the tombstones were lined up in perfect rows and there was no litter anywhere and no graffiti. It had become a hot, humid night; it was cloudy and the moon was hiding behind the clouds. It was a big, yellow moon, and Buffy knew where it was hiding because that part of the sky was a little brighter. The air felt thick and heavy and full of energy, like it had been holding something in too long and it was about to burst. Buffy could relate. Her pussy was wet and she wanted to be fucked and it was hard to concentrate. Faith was warm behind her; Buffy felt her body heat. They were both sweating now and Faith's sweat made her scent strong. Buffy remembered what Faith's breasts had tasted like the day they had sex, how they were just a little salty; Faith had been sweating then too. Buffy wanted to taste Faith's breasts again now. She felt her blood pumping through her, and she thought about asking Faith to fuck her. She thought Faith would say yes. But she knew they would both agree with the rules again tomorrow…

Faith gently ran her fingers through Buffy's hair, as she held her down; as she kept her down on her knees.

"Yup," Faith said. "One tough fifth degree aikido black belt momma. Anyway, the wrist lock's easy, once I get you down with your arm behind your back I twist your wrist into an unnatural position. And I don't gotta get all fancy, I could do a wrist lock just by grabbing your arm real quick. But as a rule you want it up behind your guy's back so he can't try to grab at you with his other arm."

"Thanks," Buffy said, and rubbed her wrist. "That's a hell of a move. Okay if I practice it with you?"

"Sure," Faith said. "I can show you aikido if you want. I can teach you. I mean I'm not a pro or anything, Becca was only teaching me for about ten months, but I can teach you what I know."

"You sure seem like a pro to me," Buffy said. "With all those flips and throws and stuff I saw you do? You were awesome, baby."

"I think the Slayer in me kinda fills in the blanks a little on my fighting, y'know?" Faith said. "Like, I got a certain amount of training and the Slayer takes it from there."

"Yeah but, I don't know how to do all that cool stuff where you like spin me around and stuff."

"Okay," Faith said. "I'm gonna come at you slow and throw a right straight out from my shoulder. When I do I want you to bat my arm away at the wrist with the back of your left hand, not hard, just knock it off course. That'll throw off my balance and send my momentum going right past you. As I pass, you spin behind me and grab my left arm by the wrist and yank it up behind my head. At the same time sweep my legs out hard and put me down on my knees. Then you twist the wrist the way I did yours. You got all that?"

"Okay, I'm gonna come at you slow but I'm still comin' at you, I'm still throwin' a punch, this is for real. If you don't do the move right I could end up punching you in the face if I can't pull back. So, uh, apologizing in advance."

Faith came at her. She came at half speed and she threw a leisurely punch. Buffy smacked her fist aside, spun around her, grabbed her other arm at the wrist, swept her legs out from under her and threw her down onto her knees, yanking Faith's left arm up behind her head and twisting her wrist.

"Shit, you're fast," Faith said, and grinned. "Yeah, it was perfect, lover. Wish you didn't let me up so quick though. I was gettin' into it."

"If I come at you for real I could end up hitting you," Faith said. "You're good B, you picked that move up quick, but we should go slow for awhile."

"How's this. Tell me in advance what kind of punch you're gonna throw, okay? But that's it. Make it a real punch and come at me as hard as you can."

Faith ran at her, at full speed. She didn't telegraph the punch; she kept it under wraps until the last second. It didn't make a damn bit of difference though: Buffy was faster than anyone Faith had ever seen and she slipped the punch and knocked Faith off course and a second later Faith felt her legs give and her arm being yanked behind her back and she was on her knees. Buffy crouched over her, twisting her wrist; it hurt. But Faith liked it. She liked Buffy hurting her.

"Okay…that was uh, real good," Faith said, smiling, and still blushing. "So maybe I can start training you like on a schedule and next time we –"

"One more," Buffy said. "One more, totally for real. Come at me full speed and don't let me know in advance what kind of punch you're gonna throw."

"Faith, look, if you're gonna train me you're gonna be landing some punches on me eventually, right?" Buffy said. "You can't show me this stuff unless we start sparring for real eventually, so what's the difference if we do it for real now? I'm gonna have to take a hit sometime. Don't worry, I'm a big girl. Now come on, come at me. I'm tired of the training wheels."

"Faith," Buffy said. "I know you don't want to hurt me. It's okay. If you really want to train me we're gonna have to do this, right?"

"And besides, what makes you think I'm gonna let you land the punch?" Buffy said, and smiled.

"But don't hold back, Faith. You're promising me we're doing it for real now and I expect you to keep your promise. It's gotta be for real. Don't pull your punch, don't telegraph it, don't come at me slow. Be as sneaky as you'd be if I were a vamp. Really try to surprise me. I want to know I took your best shot."

Faith had a plan, when she ran at Buffy: she figured Buffy was expecting something fancy so instead she went with a basic right cross. It was a good, sneaky tactic, so Buffy would be happy that Faith was really trying, but at the same time a right cross was a slower punch that took more time to land and could be anticipated. Buffy was blindingly fast and Faith was hoping her speed would be enough to overcome her inexperience and allow her to block the punch. But the plan didn't work: Buffy wasn't expecting the right cross and when she tried to knock it aside she missed and Faith connected with her face. Faith had never really understood her own strength; she had a right cross that Vikings would have sang songs about and it hit Buffy like a wrecking ball, knocking her off her feet and sending her flying through the air. Buffy collided with a tree ten feet away and fell to the ground like a building imploding.

"Buffy!" Faith shouted, and ran to her and fell to her knees beside her. Buffy looked dazed, and her face was bloody.

"Buffy! BUFFY!" Faith screamed, with tears filling her eyes. She propped Buffy up with shaking hands.

"Whoa…kay…" Buffy said, and held her hand to her lip. It was bleeding. "Didn't know they made mack trucks shaped like pretty Boston girls. Um…ow."

"Sshhh…baby…I'm okay," Buffy whispered in her ear. "It's just a little bloody lip. I'm okay, baby, I'm okay."

Buffy kissed Faith's cheek, and looked her in the eyes. She wiped Faith's tears away.

Eventually, Faith calmed down, and Buffy felt her shaking stop. She smiled, and kissed Faith's cheek again.

"I gotta tell you, Faith, outside of Kakistos, that's the hardest punch I've ever taken," Buffy said. "You're strong, baby. I think you're stronger than me."

She tasted Buffy's blood on her lips, and on her tongue. It was warm, and it had a sweet taste, and it was a little bit salty at the same time.

It was a soft kiss, a gentle kiss. Faith's tongue was warm, as it caressed the inside of Buffy's mouth; as Faith explored it, looking for the wound.

Faith licked Buffy's lips where they bled, and kissed them, and caressed the inside of Buffy's mouth with her tongue. Buffy's tongue was bleeding; the punch had made Buffy's teeth cut into it. Faith felt the blood, warm and thick and sweet on her own tongue. Faith licked Buffy's tongue, and went back to kissing her lips, and then back to licking her tongue again; she kissed and licked Buffy until the blood was gone.

"Fuck rule number three," Buffy said, and took Faith in her arms, and laid her down on the ground, and kissed her

The air was heavy now, electric. The wind began to pick up. There was a storm coming, Buffy and Faith both knew it: they could smell it.

Buffy lay on top of Faith, and looked at her. She was beautiful. Her scent was sweet. Buffy felt the Slayer in her, looking down at Faith with her.

Buffy knew Faith belonged to her. She knew she'd kill anyone who tried to take Faith from her.

Buffy took Faith by her long, dark hair, and looped it like a rope around her hand, holding it in her fist, holding Faith in place. She looked at her.

She wasn't biting Faith hard enough for her teeth to break the skin, yet. Not hard enough to really hurt her. But hard enough for Faith to feel it…to know what it meant. Faith gasped, and a little whimper escaped from her lips.

Buffy started sucking on Faith's neck, kissing it and taking the skin into her mouth and kneading the skin back and forth between her teeth. She meant to mark her. Faith clutched at Buffy, moaning. She lifted Buffy's skirt, and grabbed Buffy's ass and pulled Buffy into her as Buffy thrusted. Buffy could hear herself snarling, as she marked Faith…marked her for the whole world to see.

Buffy took her time, leaving her mark. She made sure to give Faith some pain, as she greedily sucked on her flesh, taking it into her mouth and tasting it on her tongue; the mark should hurt, or it wouldn't mean anything. Buffy was a Slayer and she knew the important things in life came with pain. Faith had a long, graceful, muscular neck, and the muscles bunched and corded now as Buffy bit into it. It was salty with Faith's sweat, and sweet with her scent. Buffy could feel the blood pumping through it, in time to Faith's heartbeat. Slowly, Buffy bit down harder, increasing the pressure…

Buffy allowed her bottom front teeth to break Faith's skin. Not too deep, but enough to draw a little blood. Faith whimpered like a prey animal when Buffy did that; it was a beautiful sound that nearly drove Buffy into a frenzy. But Buffy controlled herself, controlled the Slayer, and sucked on the wound only gently, taking Faith's blood into her mouth, and swallowing it. It tasted sugary. Buffy tenderly caressed Faith's hair now as she took her blood; she didn't want Faith to be scared. She wanted her to know it would be okay.

Faith breathed even faster, and clamped her legs tight around Buffy, and started shaking a little. Buffy realized she was bringing Faith to an orgasm.

Buffy started rubbing Faith between the legs over her jeans as she held her down; she wondered if this was breaking one of their rules. She almost smiled.

Faith started making little high pitched squeals every time she exhaled now, and Buffy started rubbing Faith's pussy harder; but Faith's jeans were tight, and it was difficult for Buffy to get her hand exactly where she wanted it, so she unzipped them and slipped her hand inside and started rubbing Faith over her panties instead. Faith's panties were soaked through, and Faith purred the moment Buffy's hand touched them, her whole body shuddering. Buffy found Faith's clit and she focused in on it, stroking it over Faith's panties in a slow, gentle rhythm as she sucked on Faith's neck and kneaded her flesh between her teeth, tasting her blood, and marking her. Buffy wanted Faith to come, when she marked her.

A moment later, Buffy felt Faith's legs trembling around her and Faith came with a little stifled scream as thunder cracked the sky in half and a cold wind tore through the cemetery all around them and lightning flashed again and the rain came down in torrents, and Faith held onto Buffy so hard Buffy thought her bones might break. Faith started to cry, like she had the other times Buffy made her come, but her tears mixed with the rain, and washed away. The rain was cold and the wind made it even colder; it awoke every nerve in their bodies, made every part of them feel alive.

As Faith began to calm down, and her breathing started to return to normal, and her trembling grew less, Buffy stopped sucking and biting Faith's neck, and began licking it instead; licking the wound.

Buffy licked Faith's neck, and inhaled her scent. Faith's breathing became steady again, and she stopped shaking. Buffy licked her wound, until the blood was gone. And when the blood was gone, Buffy smiled down at Faith, and touched her hair.

Somehow, Faith managed to blush despite being pelted by freezing rain. Buffy kissed her cheek.

They lay there together, in each other's arms, on the ground in the cemetery, neither of them moving, and looked into each other's eyes. They lay there together, and let the rain soak them through.

The mark on Faith's neck was big and livid and red. Faith touched it, and smiled.

Faith closed her eyes, and leaned her head against Buffy's shoulder. Buffy held her, and looked down at her.

Faith had Buffy's mark on her now, and Buffy didn't think Faith really had anything else, besides that. She didn't think Faith was ever going to go back to her guy in Boston. Faith didn't have Rebecca anymore, and Buffy was starting to understand how hard it was for Faith, being without her…how it made every single moment hard for her.

"We totally broke rule number three," Buffy said. "We broke it and then smashed it into tiny little pieces. I hated rule number three anyway."

"So now we don't have a rule number three?" Faith said. "The rules go like, one, two, four?"

"I'm thinking we might need to make a rule against giving each other fully-clothed orgasms," Buffy said. "That can be the new rule number three."

"Fully-clothed orgasms do kind of make a mockery of our laws, don't they?" Faith said. "It's like we're Bonnie and Clyde, runnin' around and shootin' up the town and giving each other fully-clothed orgasms. People gotta lock their doors. No one's safe."

"Yeah. So, rule three," Buffy said. "No giving each other fully-clothed orgasms. Damn it. I didn't even get to have one. I hate the law."

It was Friday night, and they were in the Bronze. The Bronze was the local dance club, and according to Buffy and Willow and Xander, it was the only game in town. But Faith wasn't too impressed by it when she went there with Buffy after dinner at Buffy's house (Joyce made chicken this time, although she hinted to Buffy that there was still plenty of meat loaf left) and they met up with Willow and Xander and sat on a plush purple couch and drank coffee and listened to the folk band on stage. The Bronze had been converted from an old warehouse, and it still looked like it: it was a big, dark, shabby industrial-looking room with bare, concrete walls. Ancient light fixtures hung from the high ceiling, and a metal staircase led to a second level fashioned from a series of grates welded together and riveted into the walls to form a walkway encircling the room. The big, fake chandelier, the colored lights, the improvised stage and the little tables and chairs and plush couches here and there did their best to divert attention away from the fact that the place was a dump. They didn't quite succeed, but the Bronze was the only real option in Sunnydale and that meant it was usually packed anyway.

"I'm thinking after the cemetery we maybe need to figure some way not to go all crazy for each other when we're out slaying," Faith said.

"We didn't break any rules other than number three," Buffy said. "But that one sucked anyway. Rule number three was like Prohibition. It never really had the support of the people."

"Came close to breaking some other rules too. Found a hell of a lot of loopholes. A lot of legal gray areas," Faith said. "And then there's my favorite bruise." Faith smiled, and touched the mark on her neck. She'd had it for two days now, and unfortunately it was starting to fade; Faith was the Slayer and Slayers healed fast. The mark was still big but it had gone from red to purple after a day and then had started getting lighter. But Faith had already decided that once it faded away she was going to ask Buffy to bite her again.

She looked out at the crowd. The Bronze was a dump, but it had a serviceable dance floor, at least, and a solid number of hot guys. Faith was happy she still thought guys were hot; she had been starting to think she had somehow become a lesbian. Faith thought Buffy was beautiful and she wouldn't have kicked Willow out of bed either, but it was nice that guys could still rev her engine. It was reassuring, somehow.

"We're so good at finding loopholes and legal gray areas," Buffy said. "We should be lawyers. Do you think Willow and Xander bought our explanation for the bruise?" She looked around to make sure no one was watching, and gave Faith a quick kiss.

"Thinking Xander did," Faith said. "It's dark in here, hard to see my neck too good, so it kinda looks a little like a vamp maybe took a chunk out of me. Not sure if Will's buyin' it though. Girl's perceptive. Think your Mom bought it?"

"Yeah," Buffy said. "The idea that I could've given it to you just wouldn't occur to her. You could've worn a bandage, you know."

"Didn't want to cover it up," Faith said. "I like it. Guess I could just say I got jumped by a hardcore pervo lesbian."

"Wish you wished what?" Xander said, as he and Willow suddenly appeared out of the crush of laughing, sweating, shouting, drinking kids, and came back to the couch carrying their refills. Buffy and Faith had lost track of them: the place was so crowded and there were so many scents all intermingling that it was difficult for them to follow individual scents unless they were really concentrating. Xander handed a latte to Buffy and a cappuccino to Faith.

Willow nearly burst out laughing. Buffy and Faith were the worst actresses in the entire world. It was actually really entertaining, watching Faith sitting there with the gigantic blatant hickey on her neck that Buffy had obviously given her, trying to spin her lame lies. But Willow understood that Buffy didn't want anyone to know about her and Faith just yet, and even though Willow had already figured it out she felt obligated to at least try to keep Xander off the trail.

"Slayer stuff?" Xander said, and sat down with Willow on the little couch next to them. Willow sat next to Faith. Willow was wearing a skirt and a blouse and high heeled shoes, and gold hoop earrings, and even some makeup. Faith noticed her legs. She didn't go out of her way to look at them. She just noticed them. Willow looked good in the skirt and the heels, with the makeup and the earrings. Willow's style had seemed kind of little girly to Faith when she'd seen her before but tonight she was dressed to the nines, and so were Buffy and Xander. Buffy was wearing a sexy little miniskirt with a tight tube top and open-toed slingback heels and Faith had been having trouble taking her eyes off her. Faith wished she had some decent outfits. She was wearing jeans and a blouse. The outfit was serviceable, but that was it. Even worse, her money was getting low; she had about three-hundred dollars left but half of that would have to go to the motel tomorrow to pay for another week.

"So hey, Buffy says you're all like, aikido girl, Faith," Willow said, changing the subject. "She said you have all kinds of cool moves."

"Yeah, I'm gonna train B up a little," Faith said. "I'm gonna have her goin' all Jackie Chan on vamp's asses."

The folk band, an anemic-looking girl with blonde dreadlocks who wore a dress that looked like a shapeless sack and two guys with glasses who looked like rocket scientists, were finally done. Faith had been wondering how the hell all those people had been dancing to them anyway. Especially the hot guys. How could it be fun for hot guys to dance to folk music? Dancing to folk music, you never got to have girls like her wiggling their butts at you…

The band packed up their gear and got off the stage to polite applause. Faith was hoping for a DJ to spin some fast tunes; she wanted to dance. But no such luck. The stage was empty now and the crowd was talking. What kind of dance club didn't have tunes you could dance to? Faith figured it was the Hellmouth. The Bronze was just the kind of dance club a Hellmouth would have.

"Steven Segal, actually," Xander said. Willow smiled; she knew Xander was easily distracted. "Segal does aikido. Jackie Chan does this sort of combination kung fu kickboxing thing with a lot of acrobatics and using whatever's in the room and just general weirdness thrown in."

"First hoop, now martial arts, Xan Man?" Faith said. "When I first met you I thought you were like a Trekkie. Turns out you're full of surprises."

Faith thought that definitely went for Xander's clothes too. She hadn't figured Xander for a clotheshorse but he was dressed up…after a fashion, and in his own unique way. He was wearing some kind of fifties get-up consisting of an untucked black short-sleeved shirt with a powder blue center panel climbing straight up the middle to the long, open, pointed collar, which was also done in contrasting black and powder blue, along with a pair of baggy black polyester pants with red flames embroidered on the pockets for God only knew what reason, and black and white leather shoes. Faith thought the look might have worked on James Dean, but a lot of things worked on guys like James Dean and Xander wasn't James Dean. He looked like Fonzie's goofy cousin from New Jersey. Faith was a Southie girl and she decided she'd need to add fifties hipster outfits to the long list of things, including goths, that she had never developed an appreciation for.

She wondered when he was going to get around to asking her out. She knew he would eventually; all guys did, eventually. And Faith knew that guys who looked like Xander – okay, but nothing special – wanted posters of her on their damn walls. She was their dream girl. Foxy guys like Evan were usually cooler and politer about it because they knew they could get girls, but guys like Xander were always a little more desperate, and insistent She'd rejected about a million guys like Xander over the years. Xander was nicer than all those guys but Faith knew guys all wanted the same thing from her and at the end of the day Xander wouldn't be any different. She hadn't caught him checking her out much, but Faith figured he was just being slick about it. Still, she liked him and she was glad Evan would give her an excuse for rejecting him that wouldn't hurt his feelings.

Faith thought Xander looked goofy but she thought Willow looked like a cute little ripe strawberry. Willow crossed her legs, and Faith couldn't help but notice even though she was really trying not to. Willow's legs weren't muscular like Buffy's but Willow had a little more weight on her and her legs were curvier and her hips were wider; it was a different look than Buffy's but Faith liked it fine. And Willow was wearing sexy black stockings too, and Faith wasn't complaining about them either.

Faith sighed. Life had been a lot simpler before she became a damn lesbian, or bi, or whatever the hell she was…

She looked out at the dance floor, and tried to concentrate on hot guys. She knew it was Willow's scent that was attracting her. She didn't love it as much as Buffy's but she sure did like it a whole lot.

She sat squished between Buffy and Willow on the tiny plush couch, and resigned herself to the fact that she was the chocolate syrup in a peanut butter and fluff sandwich.

"So okay, I want to get back to this jelly business," Xander said. "It's not that I don't like being jelly, it's just that I wasn't consulted. I should be consulted about these things."
"Well you're not trading with me," Buffy said. "Jelly doesn't go with chocolate syrup."

Worst actresses in the entire world, Willow thought, and smiled to herself. Buffy was happy. Willow liked seeing Buffy happy.

"I should be whatever goes best with what Willow is anyway," Xander said. "But I like chocolate better with peanut butter. I don't even like jelly. Whenever I have peanut butter sandwiches I don't put jelly on them."

"I still think we should have a fifth thing, that way one of them can always rotate," Xander said.

"I think we should go back to talking about Luke not shooting first," Buffy said.

Another band came out on stage. They were four girls who looked like they had just rolled out of bed and who glared at the crowd like they wanted to tell everyone in the room to fuck off. They smoked cigarettes even though Faith had seen a no smoking sign on her way in. They wore slutty outfits.

"My Mom wouldn't approve of them at all," Buffy said. "I think she'd give them a speech about morals. And possibly make them eat meat loaf."

As Willow and Xander stared up at the stage, Faith put her hand on Buffy's knee, and slowly moved it up her skirt.

"I need a spanking, lover," Faith whispered back. "I think you're gonna need to spank my little ass or I might keep acting up. Fair warning."

Onstage, the tall, pretty girl with the sneer and the cleavage and the black hair done up in a pageboy and the guitar slung over her shoulder swaggered up to the microphone, drinking a beer. Faith liked the way her boobs jiggled.

"'Trouble'?" Xander said, squinting at the name emblazoned on the band's drum kit. "Well that sounds vaguely menacing."

"Yeah, so we're Trouble and I just woke up because I'm fucking hung over, Sunnydale," the lead singer said, in a British accent. "Jesus Christ I'm hung over. Hey I have an idea boys and girls let's all FUCKING ROCK."

The British accent sounded just like Rebecca's to Faith's ears. Faith thought the girl even looked like Rebecca too. She was tall and pretty with the same kind of nose, even a similar hairstyle. She was younger than Rebecca, maybe in her mid-twenties; she could have been Rebecca's niece. The girl was like a sexy, slutty, rock 'n roll Rebecca. Faith knew Rebecca completely wouldn't approve of the girl. She'd probably forbid her to do things a lot. She knew Rebecca would sure as hell forbid that outfit.

The girl got a fast, catchy guitar riff going, and the unapologetically slutty Asian girl with the dyed red hair and the green boa around her neck started pounding away on the drums and the obvious lesbian bassist girl with the nose ring and the crewcut started plucking and the dainty little keyboardist girl with the long, blonde hair wearing the short-shorts and the babydoll tee-shirt started tickling the keys and suddenly there was an actual beat Faith could dance to in the damn club for the first time all night, a kind of trippy, feverish pop-rock that got her toes tapping and kicked her engine straight into drive.

"Well what are you fucking waiting for, Sunnydale?" the lead singer shouted, glaring at the crowd as the drums and the bass started getting into some serious beats per minute. "Get on that fucking dance floor! Seriously, don't make me tell you again. This song's called 'Men Fucking Suck'. I think it's catchy." And then she started playing in earnest, and she wailed like a banshee and danced around like a crack-addled gypsy, and there was a stampede for the dance floor.

"That's our cue, B," Faith said, or thought she said: the music was so loud Faith couldn't even hear herself speaking.

"What?" Buffy said, as Faith grabbed her arm and whisked her onto the dance floor quicker than you could say marshmallow fluff.

"Yeah that's right, I like disco. You got a problem with that Sunnydale? And don't even think about getting off that fucking dance floor," the lead singer had growled, giving the crowd one last good glare, before launching into a fast, sleazy cover of 'I Will Survive' that moved Faith and Buffy to the next level of butt-shaking. The band followed that with 'Never Can Say Goodbye', 'No More Tears', and 'Last Dance', and now they were starting in on what sounded like a drastically speeded-up version of The Stones' 'Miss You'. "Can someone be a darling and get me another beer please?" the lead singer said, before jumping in.

"Rule number six," Faith said into Buffy's ear, as she and Buffy danced around each other at approximately the speed of sound. They had energy to burn. Dancing wasn't as good as fucking and fucking wasn't as good as killing, but dancing was still a whole hell of a lot better than not dancing.

"What's rule number six?" Buffy said, into Faith's ear. They had to talk into each other's ears to hear each other over the music.

"That's…some serious dancing," Xander said, into Willow's ear. "It's dirty dancing."

"It's, um, a Slayer thing," Willow said into his ear, and spun Xander around so Buffy and Faith were out of view.

"I guess…but…" Xander started to say, when Willow took his hands, and placed them on her butt.

The band was taking a break and Buffy and Faith were back on the couch. Willow had volunteered to get their refills, and had made Xander come with her.

Faith had her hand on Buffy's knee again, and she was telling her all the things she wanted to do to her. Buffy was giggling.

"We can do that. How about we have a sleepover this weekend. Willow sleeps over all the time when we're studying together and stuff, how about you come over tomorrow night and stay over my house?"

"Um…no, pervo. Not with my Mom there. But we can secretly lie down and cuddle and stuff when she's distracted."

"We can do that during the sleepover. And I'll do your hair. We can hang out and be all girly. Will and I paint each other's nails and stuff sometimes."

"I wanna kneel down in front of you and lick your pussy right now," Faith said. "I want you to hold me by my hair while I'm doing it and I want everyone here to see me doing it."

"I'm not gonna be good," Faith said, and giggled, and snarled a little. "Not unless you spank my little ass."

Buffy kissed Faith's neck, where the mark was. She dragged her teeth over it. The Slayer was there, inside her; Buffy called her up, let her out of her cage for just a moment, and let Faith hear her snarl. She knew that's what Faith wanted right now.

She took Faith's hair in her hand, and gave it a little yank. She knew Faith wanted that, too. She heard Faith moan.

Dinner at Buffy's house the next night was meat loaf again and Buffy had said, "the war continues". Faith had rubbed it in a little by making sure to constantly let Joyce know how much she liked the meat loaf. While caressing Buffy's knee under the table. Buffy had just smiled the whole time, refusing to rise to the bait as Faith lavished praise upon the meat loaf and cleaned her plate and had seconds. And she let Faith keep her hand on her knee.

They were in Buffy's bedroom now, in their nightgowns. They'd had to spend some time with Joyce watching a movie she'd rented for the occasion, some 1970's remake of Dracula starring a guy with feathered hair. Buffy kept pointing out how the movie got vampires wrong, and that cool vampires never had feathered hair, and Joyce kept telling her to shush, and they ate popcorn. Joyce still made Faith uncomfortable. Faith liked Joyce, and she understood that Joyce was trying to be nice to her, but for some reason it almost felt like too much, somehow. Faith had no idea why she felt that way but she always made sure to hide it, because Joyce was never anything but classy and generous and nice, the kind of Mom Faith wished she'd had. Joyce sat with Buffy and Faith on the couch, and they all watched the movie together, and Joyce talked about how much fun it was to be hanging out with "her girls".

But now Joyce was safely downstairs talking on the phone to her next door neighbor about what book they should read next in the book club and Faith's patience had finally been rewarded: Faith was with Buffy in her bedroom now listening to CD's and talking about guys they wanted to bang – at least, Faith knew she was, but she was ninety-nine point nine-nine-nine-nine-nine percent sure Buffy was faking – and Buffy sat on the edge of the bed, and Faith knelt in front of her, giving her a foot massage. Faith was exactly where she wanted to be.

"That feels good, baby," Buffy said, and stroked her hair. "It feels like, amazingly good. I think I'm gonna need you to do this a lot for me."

Faith had spent a good twenty minutes on Buffy's right foot and now she was working on the left. She knelt on the floor in front of Buffy and held her foot in her lap, and massaged it with both hands. Faith had never given a foot massage before, and she'd used the right foot for practice, learning what Buffy liked, how much pressure, and where to put it; where to rub hard, where to gently caress. Faith thought Buffy had pretty feet. They were pale, with high arches and long, powerful toes. Her feet were soft and pedicured and her toes had black toenail polish. Faith had painted them, along with Buffy's fingernails, an hour earlier.

"You're really good at it," Buffy said. "I didn't know how sore my feet were until you started showing me how much better they could feel. The only problem is that it's, um, making me really, really horny. So, that's enough."

"But you're ruining my whole secret plan to seduce you," Faith said, and giggled, as Buffy lifted her up, and kissed her.

"What about my secret plan to do your hair?" Buffy said. "I think I want to give you hair like Ava Gardner in my poster over there. You already look like her and you have the same type of hair."

"You think I look like Ava Gardner?" Faith said, and looked at the poster. Ava was a sexy girl back in the day. Faith could see why Buffy liked her. And she had the most beautiful, smoldering eyes…

"It's your eyes, baby," Buffy said, and laid Faith down on the bed, and kissed her. "You have the prettiest eyes."

Buffy knew they couldn't stay like this. It was one in the morning, and Buffy knew her mother would be coming to check on them. And Buffy had taken her nightgown off – Faith had proposed that it wasn't a violation of rule number one as long as Buffy was under the covers and Faith couldn't actually see her body, and even though Buffy thought that particular legal argument wouldn't really stand up to scrutiny she knew Faith liked sleeping curled up on her breasts, so she allowed it. But Faith needed to be in the spare room.

Buffy let her senses reach out. Her mother wasn't on this floor yet; she was probably downstairs in the living room, on the couch watching the late movie. Her mother liked the late movies on Saturday night. Lots of Bogie and Bacall. Buffy liked Bacall too.

Faith was warm. She made Buffy feel warm. The warm feeling in her stomach – the one she got when she was with Faith – was there again now. Buffy moved her nose to Faith's neck, below her ear, where her scent was always strong. The mark she'd left on Faith was almost gone now; there was just a hint of pink there, and even the bite marks had disappeared.

But how could she be with a girl if she didn't like girls? If she stayed with Faith, wouldn't she always miss guys?

"Things were easier before you got here, baby," Buffy whispered. "You've got me all spun around."

She got up, put her nightgown back on, and carried Faith to the spare room. It was down the hall from her bedroom and situated between her room and her mother's. It was a little smaller than Buffy's bedroom, but not by much, and Buffy's mother sometimes used it as a sewing room and sometimes as a storage room for pieces she was evaluating for the gallery. But there was a good-sized bed in the room, and a desk, and a closet. Willow used the room whenever she was helping Buffy cram for a big test into the wee hours of the weekend and it was simpler for her to just sleep over rather than go home.

Currently the room was being used for storage, and there were canvases leaning against the walls and a few African masks on the desk: a peacock, a tiger and something that looked like a yellow demon with red horns and a unibrow. But Buffy always made Giles look over any new artwork her mother brought home now, and he had assured her the week before that it wasn't an actual demon.

Buffy laid Faith down on the bed, put the covers over her, and gave her a kiss goodnight. She watched her sleep for a moment.

"It was easier before you," Buffy whispered. "But I didn't smile as much, baby. You make me smile."

Buffy lay awake in her room, in the dark. She couldn't sleep. She looked toward the window. The moon was shining in; it was nearly full now. She'd killed plenty of vampires recently; she and Faith had gone on a tear, the last few days. She wasn't restless. But she still couldn't sleep…

Her mother had come up to check on her, just like Buffy knew she would, an hour before, on her way up to bed. "I like Faith," Joyce had said.

She ran to her window. He was standing in the front yard. Faith was asleep, but Buffy knew she only had seconds…

She opened the window, and Angel watched her as she edged onto the roof and leaped out into the front yard in her nightgown, somersaulting forward through the air, and landing gracefully and silently as a cat, right in front of him.

But that was before Angelus…Angelus had entered her room through the window once.

"Nice," Angel said. "Triple somersault, stuck the landing. You ready to do this? They should be there soon. Might be a good idea to put some clothes on."

Buffy had no idea what he was talking about but it was the least of her problems right now.

"What?" Angel said. He was wearing a black silk shirt opened to the chest, tight black pants that Buffy knew hugged his butt perfectly, the very expensive black Gucci shoes he had bought for himself when he had treated Buffy to a shoe-shopping spree on her seventeenth birthday and she had felt bad because he had bought her eleven pairs of shoes and hadn't bought any for himself, and his long, lightweight black silk trenchcoat with the deep inside pockets that were good for holding weapons. His hair was perfect as always. He was smiling, and he still had the sexiest, most beautiful smile Buffy had ever seen on anyone, ever. He looked good enough to eat. But he smelled like roadkill.

The smell shocked Buffy, for a moment; she'd been with Faith's scent, so close to it, almost every day for a week. Angel's smell hit her like she'd suddenly been tossed in a garbage dumpster. Had he always smelled that way? Like rotten meat, like a carcass?

"There's a Slayer sleeping in my house and she's gonna smell you here any second and I can guarantee she won't care how hot you look," Buffy said. "I'll meet you at the end of the street in fifteen minutes. Go."

He looked at her, for a moment, in the moonlight; it reflected silver in his dark eyes. He was calm, almost serene. Controlled. He always was. Things never seemed to get to him.

"Okay," he said, and walked away like he was taking a stroll, and disappeared into the darkness.

Five minutes later, Buffy watched Faith sleep. Buffy was dressed and she had her stake and she was ready to go; she had remembered now why Angel was here. He'd told her a few days before that he was going to need her help tonight for a few hours; something about demons, and a ritual that needed the Slayer, she hadn't really been listening.

Buffy knew her mother would be driving down in the morning to that antique flea market in Thousand Oaks that she liked to visit on Sundays; it was a long drive and she always left by seven and didn't get back until late. She and Faith would have the house to themselves tomorrow. But she knew her mother would come to her room to check on her before she went out, and she'd worry when she wasn't there…and Faith would want to know where she went too…

Angel stood on the corner, leaning against a tree, looking up at the moon. He stood very still.

Buffy had a girl's scent on her, when he saw her in the yard. It smelled like peaches. It wasn't Willow. Willow smelled like strawberries.

A dog rooted through some garbage cans four blocks away. The sound was jarring. It ruined the moment. Angel had enjoyed the silence; enjoyed looking up at the moon, and being centered within himself.

Life was a series of moments. He tried to see it that way, now; it helped take his mind off things. The past, the future…they were concepts. Abstractions. A way of looking at things. They didn't exist…only the moment existed. He lived for the moment…tried to be a good person, in each moment.

In the past he had killed thirteen-thousand, two-hundred and six people. In the past he had tried to kill Buffy. He had hurt her friends.

In the future Angelus might escape again. His control might slip someday, and Angelus might escape again.

Buffy had seemed annoyed to see him. It wasn't just because she was worried that new Slayer would sense him. It was something else.

Every single time he had seen Buffy before, there was always a light, in her eyes…a light that was there just for him.

The street was silent, and still warm. The moon was big and bright and almost full. Angel leaned against the tree, and looked up at the moon, and let his senses reach out. There was no one coming, anywhere within at least six blocks of him. He wondered if Buffy would come. She'd said she would.

A few minutes later, he smelled her, and the other scent she carried with her. The other scent wasn't as strong, now; Buffy had changed her clothes. But it was still there. Peaches…and a hint of muskiness.

He waited. He looked up at the moon. He didn't look at her. He didn't want her to see his eyes…

Get it together, he thought. You're two-hundred and seventy-one years old. Three-hundred and fifty-nine, if you count the hell dimension. She's a schoolgirl. Stop acting like a boy with a crush. You're not a boy.

He centered himself, as best he could. Thought about this moment, not any of the ones that had come before. The look in her eyes in the front yard was the past. It didn't exist.

He knew he was lying to himself. The past existed. Those thirteen-thousand, two-hundred and six people had existed. Until he snuffed them out.

"Okay, so demons, right?" Buffy said, as she approached him. He cleared his thoughts, and looked at her.

"Yeah," he said. "Kree'shon demons. They're performing a ritual this morning that needs the Slayer."

"Sure," Buffy said. "I mean, I've always been all about helping out evil demons…oh wait, I haven't. Pretty sure I've always been all about killing them. I'm not killing these guys why?"

"The Kree'shon are a warrior race," Angel said. "They live to kill, but they respect strength, they respect a good fighter. A few hundred years ago a bunch of them got trapped in an interdimensional rift and landed here. They're a bunch of feuding clans now, but in a couple of hours they're going to anoint a new ruler who will unite the clans. That ruler needs the strongest warrior in this world to witness his installation."

"You want me to stand around and pose for pictures while some demon king guy gets his crown? Am I handling the catering too?"

"You need to acknowledge that he's a strong warrior, that you've tasted his heart and it's fierce and proud, that you respect his strength."

"Please tell me I don't have to actually taste his heart. I just had to deal with my Mom's meat loaf ."

"You just gotta say the words," Angel said. "I'll coach you. Joyce's meat loaf isn't bad. Better than my mother's sausage rolls."

They started walking. They used to hold hands, when they walked. They didn't now. Angel noticed Buffy wasn't standing as close to him as she usually did. The scent came to him again…peaches. With a hint of muskiness underneath.

"The Kree'shon are a special case," Angel said. "They don't hunt humans, they consider them weak and it's against their code to hunt the weak. They only hunt when they can get a good fight. They hunt demons and vampires."

"A little more than four-hundred, in six different clans. They operate out of the Middle East and Africa. They came out here for you."

"The guy about to take power is a traditionalist. He won't allow the clans to hunt humans. The guys opposing him would."

"Humans are weak but they taste good. Human flesh is a delicacy among some of the clans."

"They eat people?" she said. "You want me to help out a bunch of demon guys who eat people?"

"No," he said. "I want you to help out the ones who don't want to eat people. And they don't eat people all the time. Mostly they eat animals, and other demons. People are like caviar to them. They eat people only on special occasions. Birthdays and weddings. But this new guy will put a stop to that."

"Four-hundred more where they came from," Angel said. "So we have a new Slayer now."

Faith rolled over and opened her eyes. The room was dark. She didn't smell Buffy. For a moment she had no idea where she was. Then she realized she must be in the spare room. It smelled like Willow, a little.

She rolled over again. Her underwear crinkled again. Faith was certain it wasn't supposed to do that.

"What the hell?" she said, again. She took the paper out of her underwear, and unfolded it. She brought it to the desk and turned on the desk lamp.

P.S.: I peeked at you when I put the note in your underwear. I broke rule number one!

Buffy wrote like a girl. She wrote in big, curvy swoops and she did the letter "i" with an open circle above it instead of a dot. There was a lipstick kiss on the note too.

"I killed a couple of them, awhile back," Angel said. "The Kree'shon respect that. We've kept in touch."

She and Angel were moving through the sewers. The sewers beneath Sunnydale were all linked together in a grid system and unlike sewers on TV or in the movies, or in real life anywhere else in the world as far as Buffy knew, the sewers in Sunnydale were clean and neat. They were dark, and they didn't smell very good, but they were neat and they were dry. The walls and floors were concrete, and there were power lines running along the walls and the ceilings, and lamps about every hundred feet, and the occasional utility closet. The sewers in Sunnydale looked like someone's well-tended, reasonably clean cellar. Buffy thought whoever ran Sunnydale must be a neat freak.

They walked through the sewer together, in the dark. She had been to a lot of sewers with him. More sewers than movies. More sewers than restaurants. More long walks through the sewers than long walks on the beach.

Buffy didn't think he smelled so bad, now. Maybe because the sewer smelled worse. Or maybe she was getting used to him again. A shaft of moonlight had slipped through the sewer grate in the ceiling twenty feet above them. His dark eyes caught the moonlight, held it, and reflected it back at her.

"You want to go out tomorrow night?" Angel said. "Back in the day a night out in the sewers was a nice, romantic evening. You modern girls, you expect everything to be all fancy. You probably even want me to buy you dinner."

"Well, in France it was, during the French Resistance," Angel said. "I hung out with those guys for awhile. Smuggled guns, shot Nazis, wore a beret and everything. Brought lots of pretty French girls for dates in the sewers. How about I take you to a nice restaurant, anywhere you want to go. I'll watch you eat. I might even eat something myself. A walk on the beach after, and maybe we'll have some wine. No sewers."

"I bet you're lying about the beret," Buffy said. "It would've like, totally messed up your hair."
"I had different hair then," he said. "Parted on the side and slicked back. Shooting Nazis was a good time. I kinda miss shooting Nazis. So how about it?"

"Okay," Buffy said. "Tomorrow night? I'll meet you at your place…say about eight?"

"You're so paying for my dinner," Buffy said. "I think I want flowers too. And not those flowers you keep at your place."

They turned. The owner of the voice was a green-skinned demon standing at the other end of the tunnel. As it approached them, passing under a lamp, Buffy could see it more clearly, and smell it. Buffy realized the smell in the sewers had actually been the concentrated smell of this demon and lots more like it.

The demon had a series of little green horns sticking out of its forehead which were the only things about it that were little. It was nearly seven feet tall and it wore earrings that Buffy realized were someone's finger bones. It wore a necklace made of bones too. It wore white armor pieces on its shoulders, chest, forearms, groin and knees that Buffy realized were also made of bone. It had yellow eyes with red pupils and a mouth full of rows of big, sharp teeth like a shark. Buffy knew this because it was smiling, and showing them all to her. It carried a very big, curved sword in a scabbard strapped on its shoulder; it looked like a giant scimitar. It had dark hair that grew straight up and out in all directions in chunks. It looked like the Incredible Hulk having a spectacularly bad hair day. For some reason it had a tattoo on its cheek that looked like a band of red flowers.

Buffy had never really considered demons boring before. They were evil, and also smelly, and very slayable, but never boring. But after an hour standing around in a dark, bare concrete room in the sewers watching a room full of demons who all looked like the Incredible Hulk shout out tales of their exploits at the top of their lungs while drinking wine out of huge mugs the size of barrels – or maybe they were just drinking the wine straight out of the barrels – Buffy felt her eyes beginning to cross. She would have felt better if she could kill one of them. The Slayer in her was getting restless…

And the demons weren't even shouting the tales of their exploits in English, either, so Buffy couldn't even listen to the stories. She thought that was rude. They were shouting in their native language, which sounded like a series of grunts and screams and occasional burps. Buffy had giggled the first time she'd heard one of them make the burping sound, but then some of the Kree'shon had growled at her and Angel had quickly taken her aside and explained that the burp meant the equivalent of "amen" in their language and that Buffy had just been blasphemous. That's when Buffy knew it was going to be a long night.

The males were even bigger than the females. The males all looked like the Incredible Hulk's big brother.

After an interminable passage of time during which actual fashion trends could have come and gone one of the demons strode right up to Buffy and screamed at her, while looking at her with his mouth open and all his rows of extremely sharp teeth showing. He might have been laughing, or challenging her.

The Slayer in her didn't like those teeth. The Slayer had teeth of her own. Buffy was tired of the Kree'shon. She was tired of the little looks some of them had given her out of the corners of their eyes. She was tired of how they smelled and she was tired of their stupid shouting. She was tired of standing around the dark, bare concrete room when she wanted to be in bed with her arms around Faith. Mostly, she was tired of being this close to demons and not killing them. The Slayer wanted out. Buffy felt her, scratching.

"Buffy," Angel said, and tried to pull her aside, as the demon roared at her. Buffy didn't move.

"Smell wrong?" Buffy said. "You want to talk about smelling wrong? I'm the only one in here who doesn't smell like ass."

Suddenly all the demons were crowding around her. There were more than twenty of them, and even though Buffy was fairly certain she couldn't take twenty of them, even with Angel by her side and even if she got her hands on one of their swords, she thought about trying. She wanted to. Even though she knew she'd probably die, she wanted to…

She felt her adrenalin pumping. The demons were all around her, sniffing at her, and closing her in. She didn't like them. She didn't like the way they smelled. She heard herself growl…

"What are you talking about?" he said to the demon who had first sniffed at Buffy. "This is the Slayer."

One of the other demons suddenly raised its arms and made a high, keening sound like a combination of a shriek and a whistle. This one wore the bone armor but didn't carry a weapon. Buffy noticed it had the flower tattoo on its face, but the tattoo was blue, not red. Its eyes were blue, too; it was the only one with blue eyes.

The rest of the demons backed away, giving the high priestess room. She approached Buffy, and sniffed at her.

"You are a Slayer," the priestess said. "But there is something…different about you. I cannot discern it, but it is there."

"I do not know this Hulk of whom you speak, or why she or he should want to smash, but that is immaterial," the priestess said. "I am the Mak'shar. I have the old learning and the new. I know your language and history, Slayer. But you are strange…your scent is strange. It is not quite right. This is a puzzle."

One of the demons – a male wearing a bone circlet around his forehead – swaggered up to the high priestess and said, "Need Slayer! No Slayer, no Kai!"

"Silence," the high priestess said, without bothering to look at him. He bowed his head, and turned away.

"Starting to like you guys a little better," Buffy said. "Good to know a woman's in charge."

"As it should be. Your world would be a better place, if a female was in charge, I think," the high priestess said. "Why have you not taken charge? You are a powerful warrior…the most powerful. Why do you not rule?"

"Your culture is strange to us. We are warriors, and the strongest and wisest rule among us. That one, he who talks too much, and out of turn –" She looked at the demon who had interrupted. He was still hanging his head. "He is the greatest warrior. And I am the wisest one, the keeper of the knowledge. We rule, together…if he succeeds in his challenge today, and becomes our new Kai. If you are what we need."

"I'm a Slayer," Buffy said. "Wouldn't have bothered coming out if I wasn't. I got places I could be."

Angel hadn't said a word after the high priestess started talking. Buffy could see that the high priestess wasn't too big on men, or interruptions, and Angel had known it. He would've known it. Angel always went in prepared.

"This is a puzzle before us, so let us reason it out together," the high priestess said.

"You are a Slayer, your scent tells me that, but it also tells me you are different. You know of the Slayers besides yourself, the ones who came before? You know the history of your sisters?"

"What has happened to you, that is different? What things about you have made you different than the sisters who came before? Think of the things that are common to all Slayers, and then the things that are peculiar to you."

"Well, I'm perky," Buffy said. "Um…I like long walks on the beach…I don't follow the rules much. Not much for the Slayer handbook. I have friends who help me out…the Slayers before me, they were solo acts from what I hear."

"You may speak, Angel," the high priestess said. "You are a courteous guest. Some of us could learn from your example," she said, and glared at the demon who had interrupted before. He hung his head again.

"Buffy died, and was brought back to life," Angel said. "When she died a new Slayer was called. There are two Slayers now."

It was like someone shouted "fire" in a crowded theater. All the demons started talking – actually, screaming – amongst themselves. There was wild gesticulating. There was finger pointing. There were fevered accusations. Some of them were tearing out their hair.

After a moment, the high priestess raised her right hand, without turning around. All the demons behind her immediately fell silent.

"That is the solution," the high priestess said. "But it presents us with a greater puzzle. Which Slayer is the Slayer, when there can be only one?"

"I'd say it's Faith," Buffy said. "I still have all my power but I think the Slayer line goes through Faith now. When I died Kendra became the next Slayer, and then she was killed, and Faith became the Slayer. According to my Watcher if I died again it wouldn't activate a new girl."

"Smart, British, drinks tea, drives an evil car. Reads a lot. Thinks I'm intractable. Sort of an advisor."

"You are flippant. I have to parse your words to find the meaning. Why do you speak this way?"

"The puzzle remains," the high priestess said, still staring at Buffy. She hadn't taken her blue eyes off her for a second. Buffy could feel the strength in this woman, the wisdom. She felt like she had been granted a royal audience with some sort of monarch. And maybe she had. "The line may go through Faith now but we are not concerned with the workings of the Slayer magics, only their result. We need the greatest warrior; it must be one of the Slayers. But which one? Who is the greatest warrior of this world?"

"Good question," Buffy said. "Could be Faith, she's tough. But if you think you can get her to help with this, that could be a problem. For one thing, I'm pretty sure she'd try to kill you all no matter how much you tried to reason with her. You're demons. And I won't let her walk into a room with twenty demons unless I'm watching her back, I don't care how smart and reasonable you are."

"Well I know there's some debate over eating people. You shouldn't, by the way. Faith and I would get angry and you wouldn't like that."

"You have the fire of a Slayer, girl, I'll give you that," the high priestess said, and smiled, showing her many, many sharp teeth. "If you were a male I would have ordered you killed for that comment. It was…presumptuous."

"We'll see. If Ve'dron does not become Kai today and the clans go to war, some other claimant may prevail. If so, the clans may begin hunting humans freely. You and Faith are Slayers but you are two. We are more than four hundreds. The Slayer is not just strength, she is cunning, as any great warrior is. Use your cunning. Avoid a needless fight you can't win."

"Two. One is, we bring Faith here and the claimants may agree upon one of you. But they would require you and Faith to fight first, to determine who is the greatest warrior."

"Door number two is, you fight any claimants who wish it, and force them to admit your greatness."

"Works for me," Buffy said. She looked around at the demons. "Who's up first? I've been wanting to kill something for awhile."

One of the demons – a male, and a pretty big one – swaggered up to Buffy and stood a few feet away with his hands on his hips.

"Gra'chit kill imposter Slayer," Gra'chit said, and unsheathed his sword. It was a very, very big curved sword. Buffy decided she liked it, and she was going to take it away from him.

The high priestess stepped away from Buffy, and Angel stepped away with her. The rest of the demons gave them room.

"It would have been wise for her to take a weapon," the high priestess said to Angel. "Gra'chit is formidable."

Buffy ducked low under Gra'chit's sword swing and decided to test a theory. She punched him with all her strength in the approximate area of his balls. The bone armor he wore over his groin might as well have been made of construction paper; Buffy's fist smashed straight through it.

The theory was that the male demons had balls, and didn't like being punched in them. The theory proved to be true. Gra'chit gasped and fell to the ground. Buffy stamped down on his sword-hand with her boot, breaking all of his fingers. Gra'chit screamed. Then Buffy took his sword.

"Say goodnight, Gra'chit," Buffy said, and beheaded him with his own sword before he could even manage to get back up to his knees.

Another demon ran at her, screaming. He was another male, not quite as big as Gra'chit, but a little faster by the looks of him. He leaped into the air and came down at Buffy with his sword pointed at her. She dodged him, spun around behind him and beheaded him with Gra'chit's sword before he landed.

"Still waiting for a challenge," Buffy said, pacing the room and snarling at the assembled demons. "I accepted a challenge and still haven't even fucking gotten one."

Another demon ran at her. These demons all seemed to have decent speed for their size but to Buffy they looked like they were moving in slow motion and this one was no exception. They were strong but they were simply too slow to lay a hand on Buffy; even the faster ones were too slow to touch her. They would be a problem in groups but Buffy thought she could kill every single demon in the room if they came at her one at a time. This demon pulled two long, curved knives from scabbards on his belt (the belt and scabbards were made of bone) and came at her, waving them around like a maniac. Buffy dropped to her knees and cut his legs off at the ankles with one stroke of her sword as he lunged forward to take a swipe at her neck with the knives. She rolled out of the way as he screamed and fell, then got up and beheaded him without bothering to look at him.

The room was silent. Buffy looked around. She noticed Angel was smiling at her. She could tell he was impressed…he was proud of her.

She looked at all of them. She showed them her teeth. The Slayer wanted to kill the rest. She wanted to kill Angel too. Buffy controlled her.

One of the demons – the one who had interrupted the high priestess before, Buffy recognized him by the bone circlet he wore around his forehead – approached Buffy. He stood in front of her, with his arms out at his sides. He didn't unsheathe his sword.

"There will be no more challenges," the high priestess said, and moved beside Ve'dron, and smiled at Buffy. "You killed the other claimants. Ve'dron will be Kai now."

Faith opened her eyes. The sun was shining in. She rolled over. Buffy was lying next to her, in her nightgown again, holding her in her arms. She smelled beautiful, as always…but Faith smelled soap and shampoo, covering Buffy's scent now. Buffy had showered before she'd gotten in the bed.

"Missed you," Faith said, and yawned. "All done with the recon? Find whatever you were looking for?"

"Go back to sleep, baby," Buffy said. Faith nodded again, and curled up on Buffy's breasts.

They slept like lazy cats for a few more hours, and when they finally woke up they spent the day kissing and watching movies and listening to CD's and trying to cook. They realized fairly quickly that neither of them could really cook and after a brunch consisting of waffles and Faith's famous grilled cheese sandwiches with bacon and tomato they ordered a couple of pizzas, and chased each other around the house for awhile and had a tickle fight, and then went to a bakery downtown and bought a cake, and then came back and ate it and ordered a couple more pizzas to go with it. The tickle fight had gotten pretty dicey and they nearly broke rule number three, and then Faith gave Buffy another foot massage and they nearly broke rules one and two. Buffy did Faith's hair again.

They were on the couch now, and Faith was lying with her head in Buffy's lap, as Buffy played with her hair. It was Lauren Bacall hair now.

"Yeah," Faith said. "Glad there's no rule against lying with my head in your lap."

"Um…this sucks but…I have to study for a test," Buffy said. "I have this big test tomorrow. I need to study tonight."

"How about I see you tomorrow?" Buffy said. "Wanna hang out with me tomorrow after I get out of school?"

"Nothing," Buffy said, and kissed her. "You look pretty with the Lauren Bacall hair."

"I can be your Faith doll. Okay, I'll take off, let you study. You'll swing by my place tomorrow?"

"You sure you're okay, girlfriend?" Faith said. "You look all…I don't know. Almost a little sad."

"Only because you're leaving, baby," Buffy said, and stood up. They walked to the door together. "But I'll see you tomorrow."

"Okay," Faith said, and hugged her. "Countin' the minutes." And then she walked out the door, and disappeared into the darkness.

Buffy stood by the door for a long time after that, following Faith's scent, as it slowly faded away…

The dinner with Angel was properly romantic. Angel knew how to do romantic. They were in this little hole in the wall French restaurant at the end of an alley downtown that Buffy didn't even know existed; the alley didn't look very welcoming but the restaurant turned out to be fabulous. The place was dark and intimate, without too many tables, and there were candles on the tables and violinists playing in the corner. The waiters were attentive yet unobtrusive and the food was splendid. Buffy had chicken in red wine and Angel had steak and fries. Buffy couldn't believe French restaurants sold French fries until Angel looked into her eyes in the candlelight, took her hand, and said, "French fries." They laughed, and Buffy had Angel order her a plate of French fries to go with her Coq au vin. They held hands after that.

Angel even ate some of his food; he usually didn't eat because vampires didn't need to and also because they apparently had trouble tasting anything except blood. But Angel said he liked French food and he ate a little, and what he didn't finish Buffy finished for him. Especially the French fries; they were scrumptious. Angel ordered an old, very expensive wine and they drank some. Dessert was chocolate mousse and Angel ate a portion of his and Buffy finished it for him. During dessert the violinists came to the table and played them a song; Angel had secretly arranged it while Buffy was in the ladies room. He said it was an old Irish folk song he liked when he was a boy.

Everything was wonderful. The food was wonderful and the restaurant was wonderful and Angel looked wonderful in the candlelight, and he held her hand. He had been true to his word and given her flowers too, when she arrived at his mansion: a beautiful bouquet of yellow roses. Buffy noticed they didn't have thorns; he had cut the thorns off.

They drove out to a secluded little beach that Buffy had never seen before. For some reason Angel seemed to know the town better than she did. "Got my nose to the ground," he said, when she mentioned it. Angel had apparently bought a car at some point during the past week; Buffy had been amazed when they left his mansion and he took her to the car and opened the door for her. They had always walked everywhere before. It was a big black convertible and Buffy felt just right in it. Angel explained to her that it was a very rare 1967 Plymouth GTX and he had said something about how the original extremely powerful V8 engine had been upgraded with a Chrysler 426 cubic inch Hemi which gave it extra horsepower and that there were only about 700 of these cars in the world, but Buffy didn't know about cars and all she cared about was that it was big and cool and shiny and fast and it was a convertible. The fact that Angel hadn't thought to have a CD player installed put a tiny crimp in the car's awesomeness, but Buffy knew Angel didn't really understand about CD's. The car had a radio though, and Buffy found a hip-hop station and cranked it up, and Angel put the top down and put his arm around her and drove too fast, showing off, as Buffy took off her shoes and hung her feet out the window and laughed with the wind in her hair…

They sat on the beach now, on a blanket, and drank some more wine; Angel had bought another bottle.

"Part of the ritual," Angel said. "The strongest warrior in the world has to prove it by listing all the enemies he's killed."

"Yeah, but they made me scream it all," Buffy said. "I had to be all, 'AND THEN I KILLED THE MASTER! AND THEN I DEFEATED THIS BIG GIANT SNAKE! AND THEN THERE WAS ANOTHER GIANT SNAKE! AND THEN THERE WERE ALL THOSE ZOMBIES DURING CHRISTMAS! AND THEN GILES CALLED ME RASH AND WILLFUL! AND HE MADE ME HERBAL TEA! HERBAL TEA GOD DAMN IT!'"

They laughed. They had been laughing together all night. Buffy couldn't even remember the last time they'd had a night like this…maybe they never had.

"It was like primal scream therapy except it went on for like an hour and my throat got all scratchy," Buffy said.

"Well they said all my exploits, in order," Buffy said. "They said not to leave anything out. It did take some explaining though."

"It was fun listening to you trying to explain about me after you had some of their wine," Angel said.

"A little? You started talking about my hair. You talked about my hair for like twenty minutes. Actually, you screamed about my hair."

"Just my theory on how you get it to do that. I think the Klingons were really fascinated. They have bad Klingon hair and your hair is so awesome."

"Your theory's wrong. My hair just does this. I don't even know what mousse is. I'm two-hundred and seventy-one. You think I know about mousse?"

"You're cute when you lie. And at least the Klingons didn't like attack you or anything once I started screaming about all my exploits fighting you."

"They don't mind that I was evil for awhile. They don't see the world in those terms. Good and evil aren't important to them. Strength and weakness are."

He was existing in the moment. It was a perfect moment…all he could have hoped for. He was with the girl he loved and the light was in her eyes again for him and he had made her smile. And she'd liked the car. He refused to admit to himself that he bought the car just because he knew she would like it. He just needed a car. And he still had that treasure chest full of gold doubloons. If you had a big chest full of pirate treasure, you might as well spend it on something…

At first he was going to buy her a bouquet of red roses. Something had made him choose yellow.

The roses were the color of the sun. He wished he could be with Buffy in the sun. If she stayed with him, she'd be in the dark…she'd have to be in the dark forever. He could never give her children. He could never grow old with her.

"You look pretty with flowers in your hair," Angel said. "Girls used to have flowers in their hair all the time in my day."

It was a chaste kiss; Angel held back when Buffy tried to make it something more. She didn't understand why. She knew he wanted more…

Angel finished braiding the flowers in her hair. They were a crown of yellow flowers now, around her forehead. She felt like his princess.

They walked, barefoot, along the water for awhile, and he put his arm around her. The moon was huge and almost full and it reflected on the water, and the night was silent and starry, and the smell of the sea was on the wind; for a Slayer it was a feast for the senses.

She hadn't thought about them for a few days…and now they were back. They always came back.

She knew it was her punishment. She knew she couldn't have a perfect moment like this…she knew she didn't deserve it.

"Buffy…you deserve all this and more," Angel said. "You deserve more than I can give you. You should be in the sun."

Angel knew why he had chosen the yellow roses now. He knew what he had to do…he realized that he had known, ever since he came back…ever since he had returned from hell, and known that he didn't deserve to return.

He knew what he had to do. He just didn't know if he had the strength to do it. He had always been weak. His whole life, he had been weak.

The thought of what he had to do stole the moment away from him. He had been living in this one perfect moment, looking out at the moon with the girl he loved, but it was stolen away, and now all he could think of was the moment that would inevitably come, in the future…the moment when he would either have to let her go, or know that he was being selfish…that he was putting his needs above hers. He had never put his needs above hers before. If he ever did, he knew there would never be another good moment for him again after that.

"You deserve to be happy, Buffy," he said, and took her hands in his. "I don't know if…I can give you those things…the things you need."

Buffy sat in school in the lounge by the candy machines the next day, looking down at the floor, holding yellow roses in her hands.

"Yeah," Willow said. "True love is red roses. Yellow's deep, loving friendship. I know flower symbolism backwards and forwards. Witch thing."

"That's not what I mean, sweetie," Willow said, and took her hand. "It's just…he doesn't make you smile enough. I wish you could be with someone who made you smile more…who didn't make you cry so much."

"It's not like he and I are dating again, but…we went to do this thing with these demons, to stop them from hunting humans? Long story but anyway…he took me out to eat last night, kind of like to thank me for helping and…kind of like a date too, I guess. We went to this nice restaurant and walked on the beach and drank wine. He gave me these flowers, and braided them in my hair."

Part of Willow was angry at Buffy. Part of her had been angry since she'd found out…that Angel was back, and Buffy had been keeping it from her.

"What's wrong, sweetie?" Willow said. "C'mon, tell me what's wrong. Best friend here, y'know, all, wantin' to be here for you."

"Look, I'm not his biggest fan, Buffy?" Willow said. "But…Angel…I think he's always wanted what's best for you."

"The full moon's kinda funny," Faith said, that night. They stood leaning on the beach wall, looking out at the ocean. They had gone out to eat at a sub place after they left Faith's motel room – which they didn't do until they had kissed for an hour – and after they ate they had wandered around, not heading anywhere in particular. The moon was full, and the sky was perfectly clear, and full of stars. There was a warm, gentle breeze off the water and the air smelled like the sea. Faith thought it was as if someone had created this night just for them…as if it was theirs. But there had been something different about Buffy, when they kissed in the motel room. She'd seemed sad, for some reason. She tried to hide it but Faith knew it was there. Buffy hadn't talked much.

They had eventually ended up at the beach. Buffy realized it was the same beach Angel had taken her to.

"It's like…it knows stuff about me," Faith said. "Like, the night Becca found me? There was a full moon. Then there was another one the night I became the Slayer. And whenever I look up at a full moon now, I'm always thinkin', like, what's next? What else does it know about me that it's like, waiting for the right time to tell me. What other surprises is it waiting to spring?"

"So what do you think?" Buffy said. "What's the moon got up its sleeve for you this time?"

"I'm thinkin' maybe this moon isn't one of mine," Faith said. "I'm thinkin' it's one of yours. I think it knows something about you."

"I think it knows why you've been all sad today, maybe," Faith said. "I think it wants you to tell me."

"I'm not sad. I'm fine. Just…in a weird mood. Maybe it's the full moon. I'm just kinda…thinking about stuff today."

"You can talk to me about stuff," Faith said. "Even hard stuff. I'm not gonna judge you, Buffy. We all got stuff that's tough to talk about. And you can talk to me…I mean, you ever wanna talk about whatever? I'm here, y'know?"

"Buffy," Faith said. "I'll shut right up if you want, okay? If I'm prying just tell me it's none of my damn business. But…is it your guy? Something happen with your guy?"

Buffy was the most complicated person Faith had ever met. Faith was sure Buffy was a lesbian, and she was sure Buffy was in love with Willow, and she was sure Buffy also had a guy running around out there somewhere who she was maybe in love with too. Buffy had told her she'd had sex with him once, and that he was her first, but according to her they hadn't had sex since…and Faith had no idea why. Other than the fact she was sure Buffy was a lesbian.

Buffy was like one of those archaeological digs Faith had seen on the Discovery Channel. The archaeologists would find something in the sand, and they'd have to use little tiny brushes to carefully and methodically and precisely brush away the accumulated sand and sediment, the weight of ages. Eventually the object, the secret, would be revealed, but they knew it was only a tiny piece of the whole, just the beginning of the mystery. Faith felt like an archaeologist, with Buffy. Buffy's sadness today was an ancient object Faith had unearthed. But Faith still had no idea what she had found, or what it meant…

"You wanna maybe head back to my place and lie down with me for awhile?" Faith said. "I can be all curled up behind you and hugging you and kissing your neck the way you like. You want me to do that, honey?"

An hour later Faith lay in her bed with Buffy asleep in her arms. She was curled up behind Buffy, and she had kissed the back of Buffy's neck until Buffy had fallen asleep. Buffy liked when Faith kissed her there. They hadn't broken any rules, or even really been tempted to. It had been a different kind of day for them. A soft day, a day for holding hands, and gentle kisses.

Faith held Buffy in her arms in the dark motel room, and breathed in her scent, and thought about things.

She had decided a couple of days before to pay for two more weeks rent instead of one. She knew she wanted to stay with Buffy so she figured she might as well guarantee a roof over her head for as long as she could. Unfortunately it left her with eighteen dollars in her pocket now. And in twelve days she'd have to come up with more money or she'd be bounced onto the street.

She'd decided she would have to start shoplifting; being down to eighteen bucks meant it was time to either beg or steal. One good thing about shoplifting at least was that it meant she could finally have some decent clothes. Sunnydale had a good sized mall and a shopping district downtown with lots of stores and being a Slayer made shoplifting easy. No one could catch her when she ran.

Constantly coming up with the cash to keep up the rent on her motel room from now on would be tougher. Cash meant dealing with people, with security guards. Faith was willing to steal but she wasn't willing to hurt anyone. It was a line she wouldn't cross. Rebecca would be ashamed of her if she hurt someone. Faith wouldn't allow that. She'd go to prison first. She'd starve first.

It was a little more than a week later and Faith's money had run out awhile back; she'd been stealing ever since. On the bright side, she had some decent clothes now. But she knew she couldn't keep this up forever. She needed a plan.

One bit of luck was that she'd discovered vampires sometimes had money. So now she mugged them before she dusted them. It had netted her enough cash to pay the room off until the end of the month, but there wasn't much left for food so she stole food too. There were convenience stores and one big supermarket in Sunnydale and even though the security guard at the supermarket was one of those old guys who took pride in his job and was actually alert for shoplifters, he was still an old guy and Faith was the Slayer and she managed to stay off his radar okay. There was an electronic security system at the doors, so instead of smuggling food out Faith just ate it in the store as quick as she could. It didn't leave much time for savoring her food and she wasn't able to eat much without risking getting caught, so she picked food with a lot of protein and calories. Cold cuts were good. Faith could wolf down a one-pound package of Oscar Mayer bologna in about a minute and it gave her more than fourteen-hundred calories.

She laid all her clothes out on the bed in her motel room, and stood in her underwear in front of them, trying to find something pretty to wear. Buffy was coming over and she wanted to look pretty.

Faith had slept over Buffy's house again, the weekend before. This time she had stayed the entire weekend; Buffy had come to her motel room Friday right after school and told Faith she wanted her to stay until Monday morning. Joyce had tried to talk to her a lot while she was there. Faith was still uncomfortable around Joyce, but it was getting a little easier.

Whenever Joyce was distracted or out of the house Buffy had wanted Faith to curl up in bed with her. They kissed, like they always did, but they hadn't broken any rules. They just curled up together in the bed whenever they had a chance, and Buffy pulled Faith's arms around her, and Faith kissed her neck.

Buffy had given Faith a foot massage this time. It was a long, slow, sensuous foot massage, and Buffy had knelt down in front of Faith and looked her in the eyes when she did it, and she had taken her time. "Do you like this, baby?" Buffy had whispered. "Do you like me like this?"

By the end of the foot massage Faith's pussy had been drenched and she felt like a cat in heat and she had told Buffy how much, and in what specific ways, she wanted to have sex with her, and she had used very colorful phrasing to illustrate certain key points. Buffy had just laughed, and kissed her.

It had been a strange weekend. Sometimes Buffy seemed almost deliriously happy, and she would laugh and snuggle up to Faith in the bed, or do Faith's hair, or paint her nails, or massage her back, or kiss her…and other times, especially at night, she would suddenly become sad…

When they went out slaying at night, Buffy always seemed sad, now…or angry. Once, when Buffy had caught a certain scent, she had insisted on going to handle it herself, and told Faith to wait for her. Faith knew the scent was a vampire's scent, and she had no idea why Buffy didn't want her to come with her. Buffy was gone for fifteen minutes, and she had come back with her eyes puffy and red, as if she'd been crying. And then she had torn into every vampire they encountered for the rest of the night, brutally beating them, not giving them the release of the stake until she'd had her fill of hearing them shriek…

There were yellow roses in a vase on Buffy's bureau, when Faith arrived that Friday. But the roses were dying. When Faith asked about them Buffy said her mother had brought home flowers from some flower show she had gone to. Buffy was an archaeological dig. She was the lost city of Atlantis. She was all six Indiana Jones movies. Faith would just have to keep digging.

Faith thought about things, and tried not to giggle at the ridiculousness of it all. She knew Buffy had a guy. Faith had Evan. She knew Buffy was a lesbian. Faith was…well, Faith thought the jury was still out on what she was. She knew Buffy was in love with Willow. Faith was in love with Evan. But she couldn't see Evan again. And Faith knew Buffy couldn't have Willow, because she was pretty sure Willow was straight. And maybe Buffy was in love with her guy, whoever he was, too. Meanwhile, she and Buffy had spent about ninety-percent of their time since they'd met each other either naked or kissing or both even though they were each in love with someone else and, in Buffy's case, maybe two someone else's.

Christ, Faith thought. We're like some lame-ass corny soap opera. Pretty soon one of us is gonna have an evil twin, or get amnesia.

Thinking about the weirdness of her relationship with Buffy was making Faith's head hurt. She decided to concentrate on finding an outfit instead.

She had three pairs of jeans, two pairs of leather pants, a couple of blouses, three adorable little tops, a few tee-shirts and a sweater. She had Evan's leather coat and her Docs. The leather pants and the adorable tops she had stolen. The wardrobe was better than before but she still didn't exactly have limitless options. Buffy would be there soon, and she wanted to look pretty for her.

She had no idea. To the naked eye, it would have appeared that she was dating a girl. Even though she already had a guy. And the girl had a guy too.

She stood in her underwear looking down at her clothes. The leather pants, she decided. And the little pink top. No bra. The pink top was made for going commando and Faith knew her boobs were too. She took her bra off.

She looked at the clock. It was almost three. Buffy would be there any minute. Faith ran back into the bathroom and stood in front of the mirror. She fussed with her hair. She wished she had some decent makeup. All she had was the nail polish and lipstick she'd shoplifted from the drugstore down the street. She had one lipstick. Red. If you're going to have just one, that's the one. She put some on. She liked kissing Buffy with lipstick on. It was more girly.

Faith decided to give Buffy a treat. Faith knew she had the best rack in the world. And she knew Buffy appreciated it.

"What's up, girlfriend!" Faith said, throwing Buffy her sexiest smile. And she knew it was even sexier with the lipstick.

"Um, breaking rule number one," Buffy said, and breezed by her into the room, giggling, as Faith quickly shut the door. Faith wanted to give Buffy a show, not the whole neighborhood. The local winos were already a little too chatty with her. Buffy was wearing a tight miniskirt and a skimpy little top and platform boots. And makeup, very skillfully applied. Faith thought she looked beautiful. But then she always thought that.

"You broke it first when you peeked at my lil' kitty when you left me that note," Faith said, and sat on the bed with her legs crossed, bouncing her foot up and down over her knee. "Bad girl. Figured I owed you one."

"Yeah, guilty as charged," Buffy said, and sat next to her. "I throw myself on the mercy of the court. Um…you have pretty boobs. Like, super pretty. Like, I think they might be the best boobs ever."

"Hey, thanks girlfriend," Faith said, and kissed her. Then Faith leaned back on her elbows, and opened her legs a little. She wasn't sure what she was doing, or why. But Faith was used to that. She liked going by feel. Letting things play out. Seeing where she ended up. All she knew for sure was that she was enjoying herself…

"Um…but okay, you got me back for breaking the rule, so maybe you should get dressed," Buffy said. "Unless you just wanna go out naked."

"Thanks," Buffy said. She was blushing a little. "I liked giving it to you. I like making you feel good."

Faith had been about to ask Buffy to give her breasts a little kiss. She was going to make a game out of it: she was going to refuse to put her clothes on unless Buffy gave her breasts a quick little kiss.

But it felt wrong, now. It felt like taking advantage. Faith could tell Buffy was still sad. It was still there, whatever it was…the thing that had hurt her…

"Okay, honey," Faith said, and kissed Buffy's cheek, and got up and put her clothes on. "So what did you say you wanted to do today? Hit the mall?"

"How do I look?" Faith said. "C'mon hon, you didn't even check out the fab outfit. Got leather pants and everything here. And isn't this top just the cutest little thing?"

"Hmmm. Got like, maybe a third of a smile there," Faith said, and kissed Buffy's knee. "Didn't wanna have to do this B, but I'm gonna have to bring out the big guns now." She moved her hands to Buffy's waist.

"I know a certain pretty girl who's real ticklish right here," Faith said, and smiled. "Right around her waist. I think she might be about to get tickled."

"I think she's definitely about to get tickled," Faith said, and started tickling Buffy's stomach and sides. Buffy screamed with laughter and tried to pull away, and Faith jumped on top of her on the bed and tickled her some more.

"Stop!" Buffy shouted, rolling around and laughing. "Stop, stop. I'll be good. Stop being a goofy pervo."

"Is it possible for shoes to be too fabulous?" Buffy said. She was sitting beside Faith two hours later on a leather couch in Nordstrom's. It was a shoe store in the Sunnydale mall that Faith thought looked a lot like the shoe stores she always went to with Rebecca; chic and sleek, sort of art deco, lots of mirrors and open space. Pretty salesgirls who were just the tiniest bit arrogant, but in a darling little way. The floors were white and spotless and gleaming. For some reason there was a girl at a baby grand piano in the corner playing show tunes. Everyone was fabulous. Every toe was pedicured. Everyone carried kickass handbags. No one was a poor homeless girl from Boston.

There weren't too many actual pairs of shoes cluttering up the place, but Faith knew the deal was quality, not quantity, in these kinds of stores and when she and Rebecca shopped in places like this they always came home with something. Within six months after meeting Rebecca Faith had gone from one pair of boots to sixteen pairs of shoes. But those days were gone now and Faith knew she wouldn't be coming home with a new pair of fabulous kicks today. She was down to twenty-one dollars and she was back to the one pair of boots.

"They look nice, B," Faith said, looking down at Buffy's feet as Buffy stretched out in a pair of rather ostentatious gold slingbacks. "You're fab enough to pull 'em off."

"I think I might already have a pair like this though," Buffy said. "It's hard to keep track. So what about you? You haven't tried anything on."

"Think I'm more of a boot girl," Faith said. She looked at the baby grand piano. She looked at the salesgirls. She didn't look at the shoes. No reason to look if she couldn't have a pair. She wanted to get out of there. She wanted to go home. But she didn't have a home…she didn't have anywhere to go.

If she went back to Boston she wouldn't be able to stop herself from seeing Evan, and she couldn't put him in danger again. And she was needed here. If ever there was a place the Slayer needed to be, it was the Hellmouth. But what would she do here? How would she live? She'd had more than two weeks to think about it since they killed Kakistos and she still hadn't come up with an answer… mostly because she'd spent the time thinking about Buffy.

"They have boots," Buffy said. "I don't think they have Docs, but they have some pretty boots. Let me help you pick a pair out."

"That's okay," Faith said. "I'll just, uh, shop vicariously through you." A woman with stylishly long gray hair wearing a business suit and horn-rimmed glasses walked by them, talking into a cell phone. "The problem is script," the woman was saying. "I'm almost through act two and I don't believe Carrie's inner struggle. She's too perfect. I know the writer loves her but I think we cut her and bring in our guy for a polish. Now talk to me about product placement." The woman carried a Louis Vuitton handbag and she held a hardcover book under her arm called War and the Liberal Conscience. The problem with the Hellmouth was that it was in California. Faith was pretty sure she wanted to blow up California.

"But that's no fun," Buffy said with a big, beautiful smile, and put her hand on Faith's shoulder. "I wanna dress you up. I wanna make you my Faith doll. Let me pick out shoes for you. I know you're always wearing boots but you'd look great in heels. Please, baby?"

Buffy seemed happy again now. Faith liked it when Buffy was happy. If being Buffy's Faith doll would keep the streak going…

It was like saying abra-kadabra. Suddenly it was raining shoes. It was a shoe monsoon. Buffy streaked through the store like the Tasmanian Devil picking out fabulous shoes for her and within minutes Faith was practically buried. After awhile Buffy finally sat back down next to her on the couch. There were more than a dozen pairs of shoes spread out around them. Faith took off her boots and socks and looked down at her feet, next to Buffy's. Buffy's feet were pretty.

"What are you talking about?" Buffy said. "You have pretty feet. I wouldn't massage ugly feet. And I think we're the same size. You could use a pedicure though. We should go for pedicures together sometime."

"Yeah," Faith said. She couldn't afford a pedicure. She couldn't afford the shoes. She didn't know what the hell she was doing there. She didn't know what she was doing…she didn't have a plan.

Fifteen minutes later Faith had tried on all the shoes and wanted all the shoes and couldn't have any of the shoes and she made herself smile anyway.

"I think you're totally adorable in the open-toe pumps," Buffy said. "Personally if I'm you I'm buying the open-toe pumps. But we can't just ignore these slingbacks. That would be a grave tactical error. And then there's the purple strappy stilettos if you wanna go for the ultra-fab look. And yeah, we both want the Givenchys but my Mom would get annoyed if I mortgaged the house without telling her. Life is hard. We can't have a pony either."

"Those Givenchys kinda rocked my world," Faith said, looking over at them. They were the most exquisite shoes she'd ever seen. She really did feel like Cinderella when she tried them on. They looked like shoes Rebecca would have worn. But she couldn't have them. So she put them out of her mind.

"We need to stop thinking about the Givenchys," Buffy said, and put the Givenchys back in their box. "Thinking about them will only bring us pain."

"Kinda tempted to buy all of 'em," Faith said. "But okay, I'm gonna level with you, Buffy. Kakistos burned my house down back in Boston, so I had to buy new clothes in a hurry, plus a bus ticket out here, plus I'm paying for that motel now. I have like about three-thousand bucks left, but I need to budget it. I mean, I'd feel real awesome if I bought all these shoes right now, but I need to kinda figure out what I'm gonna do out here first, y'know? I'd better come up with a plan before I spend money on this kind of stuff."

"Yeah, I get that," Buffy said. "Sorry, I didn't even think of that. But three-thousand won't last long, Faith. We're gonna need to come up with a plan."

"B, that's awesome of you, but seriously, don't worry about it," Faith said. "You never know, I might not be able to resist and I might just come back here and buy a few pairs myself tomorrow. Once I figure out my money, maybe get a job or whatever, I promise, we'll go shopping then and you can watch me buy myself a whole bunch of new kicks."

"So let me buy you shoes now and you can pay me back if you want," Buffy said. "Whenever we come up with a plan and get your money situation together or whatever. You can pay me back for them then if you really want to."

"You're a great friend, B," Faith said. "I'm lucky to have you. And I'm cool, okay? You don't have to feel like this is weird for me or whatever, 'cuz it isn't. I'm having fun, I love being here with you. I'm not buying anything right this second, but I will. I'm, y'know, scoping out the place. I'm doing like, shoe recon. So don't worry about me. Just keep making me smile. That's all I want."

Sunnydale had a Bloomingdale's too. Faith stood in front of the mirror by the changing rooms with Buffy. Faith was wearing a long red leather coat, and Buffy stood behind her with her hands on her shoulders, and played with her hair.

"Damn tempting," Faith said. And it was. Faith considered coming back some other time to shoplift it.

"You should totally buy it," Buffy said. "You should buy it right now. It's like the ultimate Faith doll accessory. No Faith doll should be without it. Plus the beach house. But not Ken."

The slaying hadn't been going so well. They did great when they were just hanging out. But the slaying…

"What is your problem?" Buffy said. "We've been through this like twenty times! Okay, yeah, there's maybe a dozen or so of them. But we're two Slayers, we can take these guys!"

They'd had dinner at Buffy's house. Pork chops. It was good. Joyce was nice. Everything had gone smoothly all day. Shopping was as fun as it could be without Faith being able to actually afford anything, and Buffy had believed her lie about how she had three grand stashed and was just kinda sorta budgeting it. They'd tried on clothes and Buffy had called her beautiful and made her whole day. Everything was great in the mall and great at dinner with Buffy's Mom after. Joyce seemed to really like her and Faith did her best not to let her see how uncomfortable she was around her. Faith was getting better around Joyce but Joyce still made her a little uncomfortable. Faith wasn't sure why, but she thought it might have something to do with Rebecca.

During the days they were great together. But when they hung out at night, especially when they went out slaying, Buffy's mood changed…she was sad, sometimes, and then sometimes she would get angry…angry at the vampires. Faith hunted vampires but she was never really angry at them. They were prey. On the rare occasions when Faith actually gave it any thought, she saw her relationship to the average vampire as something akin to a lion's relationship with a gazelle. The lion didn't kill the gazelles because she hated them; the lion killed them because that's just the way things were supposed to work.

Buffy's anger was becoming a problem. She was taking risks sometimes now, when they went out slaying; she wasn't thinking tactically. She was hurting vampires, even torturing some of them, before she killed them. Faith didn't mind getting her kicks and she loved a good scrap, and she even liked to rub it in a little when she had a vampire down, but when the hunt was over it was over and it was time for the stake. Buffy was passing over opportunities to dust vampires just to drag out the fight sometimes. It wasn't like her. It made her look ugly.

They were crouched behind a tree, watching a crypt in the Fairlawn Cemetery. It was a little before midnight, and a sliver of moon rode high in the sky, flitting between the clouds. The Fairlawn Cemetery was a big cemetery, and it was a dump. The grass grew in brown, weedy patches. There were dense thickets of gnarled old trees, and here and there among them there were chairs and couches set up around the remains of old campfires strewn with joints and whiskey bottles. The crypt they were watching had graffiti all over it. There were beer cans on the lawn all around it, and loud music playing inside.

"Yeah, I know we can take 'em, but c'mon B, use your head!" Faith said. "That crypt's all closed in, if we just run in there they have the advantage!"

Faith noticed Buffy was becoming annoyed. She had the same look on her face as she'd had that night they first met…like she was building to something, and trying to head it off. Buffy took a deep breath.

"Look, they're probably all wasted in there," Buffy said. "This cemetery is non-stop vamp parties, always has been. We go in and take them by surprise, we can stake half of them before they even know we're there."

"Maybe," Faith said. "If they're wasted. "If not it's like fourteen on two in a little tiny space the size of my motel room. I just wish we had a better plan than 'Run in and hope we don't get our butts kicked.'"

"We have a plan," Buffy said. "We take them by surprise. That's the plan! And it would be a great plan if you'd stop bitching and just let us do it!"

"I'm sorry," Buffy said. "I didn't…I didn't mean it like that. It's just, look, this is my town, okay? I've been doing this awhile, I know how everything works here. I know this is the right plan. You just have to trust me."

The next night, Buffy was giggling. Faith had been making her giggle all day long. Faith always made her giggle. She said the goofiest things…

They were sitting together in Crestview Cemetery now, under a big willow tree, waiting for vampires to happen by. But no vampires were happening by, so Buffy had been listening to Faith's goofy stories instead, and their giggles echoed among the tombstones.

"Yeah, so wherever these guys played, people went missing, right?" Faith said. "It was like, part of their rep, y'know? Like they joked about it. They were like, 'Yeah, Ozzie maybe bit the head off a chicken, but you come to one of our shows, who knows what craziness can go down.' Cops never pinned anything on them, no witnesses. So I'm talkin' to these metal chicks at The Roxy and I'm like, 'But wait, who the hell listens to hair bands anymore?' And they're like, 'Well, the lead guitar guy, he's cute. He totally gets busy with the metal groupie gals.'"

"Me neither, but y'know, my spider-sense was tingling, I just had a feeling, so I'm all, 'Hook me up backstage, girlfriends, sneak me in.' So I hit the vintage clothes stores and find some tramp outfit, y'know, bandana, ripped jeans, like that, couple of fake rub-on tats, and I'm hangin' out around the tour bus that night waiting for the show to end, and I'm rockin' that bandana and the ripped jeans and the suede boots and the Levis jacket with the Kiss patch. So next thing I know, bang, I catch the scent, there's a vamp headin' my way. A minute later out they come, and yup, the guitarist's a vamp, and a fox too. I'm like, okay, groupie gals' got a point. So I bat my lashes at him – he already had like three chicks on his arm – and he's like 'Sure babe, join the party', and we head into the bus. Nice bus too. Rugs, big TV sets, stocked bar, pool tables, waterbeds, the works. Thing is, the guy had his heart set on this real hot blonde, he wanted to get to her first…"

"Yeah baby," Faith whispered in her ear, and giggled. She put her arm around Buffy, and pulled her close, and positioned her hand just above Buffy's breasts. "A real hot blonde. I do love the hot blondes."

"Pervo," Buffy said, and laughed. But she didn't try to remove Faith's hand. So Faith kept it there, and moved it down so it rested lightly on top of Buffy's breasts. Buffy blushed.

"So yeah, dude had his heart set on the blonde, and I'm all like, 'C'mon coach, call my number," and he's like, 'Sorry hon, gotta wait your turn.' Thing is there were security guys on the bus with guns, there were a bunch of gals, there were the other band guys, and the bus was fab but it was long not wide, there wasn't like room to maneuver really. All those people, if things went all Die Hard in there people could get hurt. I needed to play it slick, all like undercover. I needed to get into that bedroom with him before he got the girl in there alone. Meanwhile the security guys are eyein' me. I had to think quick."

Faith caressed Buffy's breasts. Buffy blushed again, but she still didn't remove Faith's hand.

"Okay," Faith said. "Well anyway I took my shirt and bra off, showed him my bodacious ta-ta's."

Buffy started giggling again. Faith kissed her. She moved her hand under Buffy's shirt as she kissed her, and slipped it under Buffy's bra, and caressed her breasts again. Buffy moaned, and Faith felt Buffy's nipples hardening under her fingers, as she gently stroked them.

"Hell yeah, girlfriend," Faith said. "And I'm all like, 'Dude, you really think you can resist this package? 'Cuz it's first come first served and if you don't step up the cute blondie lead singer guy over there's gonna be gettin' busy with these and you're missin' out.' Blondie lead singer guy's like 'Hell yeah gimme some o' that,' and guitar guy's like 'Shit girl, steer those titties over here.'"

"You don't think they're bodacious?" Faith said, and lifted Buffy's shirt, and unhooked her bra, and gave each of her breasts a single, gentle kiss. "C'mon honey, I know you love my ta-ta's."

"Finish the story, ta-ta girl," Buffy said, and put her arm around Faith, and brought her to her breasts. Faith started kissing them.

For a moment Evan came into Faith's head. But he seemed a million miles away, now…an abstraction. The concept of a person, rather than a person. Memories that didn't add up to flesh and blood anymore.

"Yeah, so I'm at the top of the class once he takes a gander at what I'm packin', and into the fab little bedroom we go," Faith said, and caressed Buffy's breasts again, and started kissing her neck now, as Buffy moaned. "He offers me some coke, I politely decline, he jumps on the waterbed and strips and we're off to the races. And I gotta say, guy was hot. I mean, I coulda staked him right that second but the more he took off, the more I wanted to see. So he's like, 'C'mon hon, I show you mine, you show me yours' and I figure what the hell, he's gonna be dead in a minute, might as well give the dude some eye candy first…"

"Don't be jealous honey," Faith said, and licked Buffy's neck, from her shoulder to her ear. "You know you're my favorite. So yeah, I'm gettin' naked, I'm sittin' there on the bed in my panties and my socks, my stake's over on the floor in my boot. And then the guy pulls down his boxers and he whips out, I swear to God, the biggest dick in the history of the world."

"Oh my God!" Buffy screamed, her voice bouncing around the cemetery, and started laughing. "Oh my God that's so gross!"

"Didn't look too gross to me," Faith said, and put her hand on Buffy's knee. "Looked kinda good. Painful though. I'm like, 'Dude! What the fuck is that thing? You born with a third leg or what? Keep that damn thing away from me.'"

Buffy leaned back against the tree and started laughing hysterically. Her laughter took flight, in that grim place; it bounded around and kicked up a ruckus among the old rotting tombstones, and rustled through the trees, and finally hung in the black night air like a rainbow after a thunderstorm. It took a long time for the echoes of that laugh to fade away…they lingered, as if the night wanted to hold onto them for awhile.

"I love how you laugh," Faith finally said, as she held Buffy in her arms. "It's really pretty, honey. I could listen to that laugh all night."

"Tickles," Buffy said, and giggled again, and wrinkled up her nose, and scratched it.

"Okay," Faith said. "So, big finish, the guy whips out his giant damn baseball bat of a dick, right? And I'm like 'whoa'. And he just laughs and he's all expectin'…y'know…what guys always expect. But even if I wanted to get busy with a damn vamp that frigging thing woulda broke my jaw. So I'm like, 'Hey guess what? Mine's bigger.' And I pull out my stake. Thing is though? Mine wasn't bigger. But it sure was pointier and that's all that mattered. The end."

"Grossest story ever," Buffy said, laughing again. "Big huge gross vampire penis? Gross."

"I don't know…the frigging thing woulda split me in half but it wasn't bad to look at," Faith said. "Dude made me all horny. But I like looking at you better."

It was Saturday night, and Buffy and Faith lay on the bed together in Buffy's room, in only their panties, and kissed.

Joyce was at her book club meeting, and they'd had the house to themselves for awhile. At first they had wondered if they should patrol. But then Faith had laid Buffy down on the bed, and started massaging her shoulders, and kissing her neck…

Faith had slept over again. Buffy had come to her motel room right after school the day before, and told Faith she wanted her to stay for the whole weekend again. When Faith had asked if Joyce had a problem with these sleepovers – between sleeping over on weekends and the dinners at least a couple of days a week, Faith was beginning to feel like maybe she should be paying Joyce rent – Buffy had said, "Nope. My Mom loves when you come over."

So Faith had shrugged her shoulders and packed her bag, like she'd done each of the two previous weekends. Joyce's cooking sure did beat scrounging cold cuts at the supermarket, and hanging with Buffy wasn't so bad either…

Buffy kissed her way down Faith's body, from her neck, to her breasts, to her stomach, and stopped at her panties. She kissed Faith's pussy, over her panties, and smiled up at her.

They both kept their panties on, because neither of them was ready to go all the way yet.

Buffy lifted Faith's legs over her shoulders, and mounted her like she was about to fuck her. Faith was curled up into a little ball now. Buffy looked her in the eyes, and smiled.

Faith caressed Buffy's arms, as Buffy lay atop her. The muscles in Buffy's shoulders and triceps were flexed. Faith knew those arms were strong.

There was a game they liked to play. Faith had come up with it the night before. They weren't ready to go all the way yet and Faith had found a way to turn that negative into a positive…

"No," Buffy said, and smiled back, and started grinding against her. They were both dripping wet, now. Faith grabbed Buffy's ass, and pulled her toward her, matching Buffy's rhythm as she thrusted.

"No," Buffy said. "You've been bad, baby. Bad girls can't get fucked. You know that."

"You're gonna have to prove it, baby. If you can prove you can be good, maybe I'll fuck you. Are you gonna prove it for me? Are you gonna be a good girl and do something good for me?"

This was the point of the game. Faith had to come up with something new to do every time, some new way to prove she could be good. But it was tricky, because neither of them wanted to go all the way…

When they had played the game for the first time the night before, Faith had proved she could be good by giving Buffy a full-body massage with scented oil. It was fun because it was risky: they'd done it in Buffy's bedroom while Joyce was home and they could have been caught. Buffy was naked, but the room was dark and Faith couldn't really get a good look, so rule number one wasn't completely broken. It was around midnight when they did it, and Joyce was asleep in her bedroom just down the hall. Faith massaged Buffy's entire body, and she took her time, really working the oil into every single part of her; the massage took an hour, and for every second of that hour they were in danger of being caught. The risk made the game even better. Faith's pussy was dripping the whole time. For her part, Buffy was serene, lying on the bed and purring, as Faith's strong hands found all the little knots of tension and gently undid them, making every part of her tingle. Buffy was so calm, as Faith worked every drop of tension out of her, that Faith almost thought Buffy wanted Joyce to catch her…

This morning, when Joyce had gone to the gallery for a few hours, Faith had proven she could be a good girl by covering Buffy's feet with kisses.

Buffy smiled down at Faith now, thrusting faster. Faith began to moan, and her breathing sped up. Buffy wasn't sure if she could make Faith come just by doing this, but she was willing to give it a try…

"So what are you gonna do for me, baby?" Buffy said. "How are you gonna be my good girl?"

"Yeah," Faith said. "I'm gonna make you a sandwich, come up here and serve it to you with a nice cold drink. Then I'm gonna kneel down in front of you with my head in your lap and smile up at you while you're eating it."

"That's if I let you up," Buffy said, and kissed Faith's ankle, and started gently thrusting again. "I like you like this. I wish I had a dick too right now."

"I'd fuck you 'til you couldn't walk straight, baby," Buffy whispered, and kissed Faith's neck.

"Promises, promises. If you don't wanna let me be a good girl you can always spank me for being a bad girl," Faith whispered back.

Buffy remembered what Giles had said, about Faith's mother. She remembered how Faith had cried, when they were practicing wrist locks in the cemetery and Buffy had screwed up the move and Faith had punched her in the face and thought she'd hurt her. She remembered how it took Faith awhile to stop crying…how she had to hold Faith in her arms, and kiss her, and calm her down…

"I guess I'll let you be a good girl for me," Buffy said, and rolled off of Faith, and let her up.

"Maybe if you play your cards right," Buffy said. "Roast beef and Swiss with lettuce and mayo and pickles. Now go make me my sandwich, woman."

Sauntering into the dining room on the way to the kitchen wearing nothing but her panties, Faith found herself wondering what the protocol was if Joyce suddenly walked through the door. This isn't what it looks like, Joyce. Seriously. I'm not getting horizontal with your daughter. I'm just, y'know, making her a sandwich. In my panties.

On her way through the dining room, Faith noticed a pile of college brochures on an end table.

She stopped and looked through the pile. They were all out-of-state colleges. Harvard, Yale, Princeton, Duke, Northwestern, Notre Dame, Georgetown, Columbia.

Faith sucked it up and got back to the game. Her heart wasn't really in it, but she made the sandwich and got Buffy's drink and got her game face back on and walked up the stairs. As she climbed the stairs she heard Buffy talking on the phone in her bedroom, speaking low.

"They could have been red," Faith heard Buffy say. "Okay, fine. I look pretty in yellow. Yeah. I loved the yellow roses, baby. I loved how you braided them in my hair."

It had been awhile, since she'd felt it. She had almost forgotten it, during these weeks with Buffy.

Buffy was silent for a moment, and then Faith heard her say, "Yeah. I had a great time. I told you it was a perfect night."

Faith realized Buffy couldn't lock onto her scent. Buffy's body was covered with Faith's scent and Faith's scent was all over her bedroom too. Buffy hadn't realized Faith was on the way back up, hadn't detected her yet.

"Yeah, okay. I'll meet you and we'll get the thing. You always take me to such wonderful places. Okay, gotta go. 'Bye."

She heard Buffy hang up the phone. Faith got her game face back on, and hummed the way she imagined devoted wives probably hummed, as she climbed the rest of the way up the stairs and walked down the hall toward Buffy's room. She entered the room with her biggest, sexiest smile on her face.

Buffy was sitting on the bed, smiling. Faith thought it was a hell of a smile. But Faith knew it was just as fake as the one she was wearing right now.

"That's awesome, baby," Buffy said, and took the sandwich and the drink from Faith, as Faith knelt down in front of her, and rested her head in her lap, just like she had said she would.

Faith looked up at Buffy, and smiled. Buffy took a quick bite of the sandwich and a sip of the orange juice, and then set them aside.

"I'm sorry baby, but…I have to go out for a few hours," Buffy said, and kissed her.

"Yeah?" Faith said, trying to look surprised and a little disappointed, too… but not suspicious.

"Yeah," Buffy said. "Remember the tip from my bartender? Well I just got off the phone with him and he promises it's gonna pan out tonight. There's some magic doohickey and there's a guy he knows coming into town with info on where to find it. The doohickey's dangerous and I need to retrieve it and get it to Willow so she can figure out what to do with it."

Faith was pretty sure Buffy wouldn't have liked letting someone she had called "a greasy little sleazebag" braid flowers in her hair, so she assumed it was a lie. But she kept right on smiling.

"Okay, so how about I tag along, watch your back?" Faith said, because it was what Buffy would have expected her to say, and also because she was curious to hear how Buffy would get out of it.

"Well…the guy I'm supposed to meet, he's not dangerous," Buffy said. "He's not a vamp or a demon, he's just like…this professor guy who knows a lot about weird old magic doohickeys? But my bartender says he's really like, suspicious and stuff. The guy knows to expect me but I'm supposed to meet him alone. If anyone else shows up he might get spooked and take off, and I can't risk that, I really need the info on this magic doohickey, because there are plenty of bad guys out there who'd love to get their hands on it."

"Okay," Faith said. "I'll like, crank up the VCR while you're gone. You'll just be gone a few hours?"

"Yeah, baby," Buffy said, and kissed her. "Then I'll come back and we can cuddle, okay? Um, if my Mom gets back before me, just like, tell her I'm doing a quick errand for Giles and that it's like, completely not dangerous?"

Buffy showered, before she left, even though she had already showered that afternoon. Faith got her clothes back on while Buffy was in the shower, then went downstairs to the living room and turned on the television.

Buffy came downstairs a little later, and apologized and kissed her goodbye, and said she'd be back as soon as she could. Faith said she understood. Buffy walked out the door.

Faith waited thirty seconds after Buffy left, watching her from the window and noting the direction she was heading in. Then she ran up to Buffy's bedroom, put on a pair of Buffy's sneakers, and climbed out her bedroom window.

Following Buffy wasn't as difficult as it could have been because Buffy wasn't expecting to be followed. Faith kept to the rooftops, staying upwind and a good distance back.

Buffy wasn't looking around at all, wasn't really noting her surroundings. She was walking straight down the street. Faith thought she seemed distracted.

Still, Faith knew it would be foolish to underestimate her. In addition to being faster, Faith was pretty sure Buffy was also a better tracker; Buffy had managed to nearly sneak up on her a few times when they were hunting together and she was usually the first one to catch a scent.

After about five minutes, Buffy stopped at the corner at the end of her street by the traffic light. She leaned against the traffic light, and waited.

Faith stayed as far back as she could while still keeping her in sight, but it backfired on her when a black convertible suddenly pulled up to the curb and a man got out of it. The wind had shifted by then and Faith was too far away to catch his scent, or to get much of an idea of what he looked like, either: he was tall, with dark hair, wearing a black trenchcoat, and that was all Faith could see.

And then something strange happened. The man suddenly looked in Faith's direction for a second. She ducked behind a chimney before his eyes scanned the rooftops, and a second later he was looking at Buffy again. It had to be a coincidence, Faith thought. The man hadn't really known she was there, he just happened to look in her direction at that moment. Only a vampire could have known she was there, caught her scent from that distance…

The man talked with Buffy for a minute; they leaned on the hood of his car together. He held her hand.

Then she climbed down from the roof, and walked back to Buffy's house, in the dark.

"The Glove of Mini-golf?" Buffy said. They were in Angel's car, driving toward a cemetery across town. The car's top was down, and she'd found the hip-hop station again, and his arm was around her and she had taken off her shoes and she was hanging her feet out the window, and the wind was in her hair…

He hadn't put his arm around her. Buffy had leaned on his shoulder, and taken his arm and put it around her.

Buffy had initiated the kiss as they stood by the car; Angel hadn't really returned it.

"Myneghon," Angel said. "Shoots lightning. And a demon's looking for it. Demons annoy me enough already. If he gets that glove and starts shooting lightning, I'm gonna get pissed."

"Lagos," Angel said. "Big guy, tough, and he uses weapons. Supposedly an expert with swords. One of the reasons I brought you with me, it'll be good to have the Slayer for backup."

"A Slayer," Buffy said. "Faith's a Slayer too. In fact she's probably the Slayer, since Giles says the line's supposed to go through her now."

Buffy didn't have Faith's scent on her, now. But she smelled like soap. Angel knew she had showered just before she met him.

And he could've sworn he'd caught Faith's scent, when he and Buffy were standing by the car…

"Are you two getting along? I remember there was some tension, with you and Kendra."

"Two Slayers together. Probably not supposed to happen. But Faith and I are doing okay."

They were driving down the back roads now, in nearly absolute darkness. There were no streetlights to see by, and when Buffy looked up at the sky even the moon was a waning sliver now, almost gone. She could see tall, dark, looming trees whizzing past on either side of her, and nothing else. The trees looked black. The car's headlights revealed a little of the gray, featureless road ahead of them, and then were swallowed up by the darkness before they could penetrate very far. The air was cold. Buffy brought her feet back into the car, and put her shoes on.

"Yeah," Buffy said, and turned down the radio. "What are the other reasons you brought me with you?"

"This glove is powerful, the bad guys are gonna keep coming after it," Angel said. "It needs to be destroyed. A specific spell is needed to destroy it, the spell is in The Book of Eibon. Giles should have a copy, if not I'll lend you mine. I'd destroy the glove myself but the spell needs a witch. I need you to get this glove to Willow."

"Okay," Buffy said. "So first the Klingons, then this Glove of Mini-golf. You're sure keeping busy lately."

"I've wasted a lot of time," Angel said. "So I'm keeping my nose to the ground now. Getting back in the game. Trying to do some good while I'm here."

"The bigger they are, yadda yadda yadda," Buffy said. "Also, in this case, the uglier they are."

They were standing in a little crypt in a cemetery on the outskirts of town. It wasn't really a proper cemetery; it was a small lot in a clearing at the end of a little dirt path off the back roads leading into the woods and it had taken them a couple of tries to find it. It seemed to exist solely to house the crypt; there were no tombstones. There wasn't even a gate or any kind of a proper entrance. Just the dirt path off the road, not marked by any sign. The clearing was overgrown with weeds as tall as Buffy's head.

The crypt itself was unremarkable. Buffy had seen a lot of crypts and although the first couple were a little exciting because of the creaky old stone doors and the sarcophagi and the general dark musty eerieness, they'd gotten boring pretty quickly; now they all just looked like stone boxes to Buffy. Big boxes, little boxes…they were all pretty much the same, and this one was no exception. It was on the smaller side, dark and musty; the air was stale. It apparently hadn't been entered in a very long time. It contained four sarcophagi, a big stone crucifix, an unlit torch in a wall sconce, two urns, a tattered old Bible, the Glove of Myneghon, and Lagos, who was lying dead on the floor in front of Buffy because Angel had cut off his head with a battle-axe.

Lagos was tall and thin, with a face like a skull, brown, mottled skin, purple eyes, black lips, long fangs, and horns like a ram. He wore a long purple cape, a look which Buffy didn't think he was pulling off very well. He had come at Buffy with a sword, and he was good with the sword; but Buffy was too fast for him and she dodged him until he was in the perfect position for Angel to behead him with one swing of his battle-axe.

They still had the old moves, Buffy thought, as she looked down at what was left of Lagos. She and Angel still moved around each other in perfect harmony as they fought, anticipating each other's moves without speaking or even having to think about it, watching each other's backs, setting Lagos up, and then knocking him down. When she was with Angel, Buffy felt invincible.

"He didn't smell too good either," Angel said. "Anyway, we got the glove." He brought the glove over to Buffy, and she took it from him, and looked at it. It was a long metal gauntlet with sharp spikes shaped like stylized lightning bolts sticking out from the sides and at each knuckle.

"Don't put it on," Angel said, as he wiped yellow blood off his battle-axe, using Lagos' cape. "Once you put it on it can't be taken off."

"I don't have a single thing in my wardrobe that goes with it anyway," Buffy said, and gave it back to him. "That's a hell of a battle-axe. It's even bigger and shinier than your other battle-axe."

They didn't talk much, on the drive back. Buffy had turned the radio on, and looked straight out at the road.

Buffy knew he didn't want to be with her anymore. He hadn't said it, but she knew he'd decided it.

His kisses used to crackle through her. She used to get wet, when she kissed him. She didn't, this time. It wasn't just that he was holding back a little.

She didn't get out of the car. She looked straight ahead, at the deserted street. It had gotten cold. She shivered, a little.

She looked at him. He looked beautiful…he always did. But Buffy thought Faith was even more beautiful.

"Mini something. I forget. I'll bring it to Giles and Willow tomorrow and they can destroy it."

"Called an hour ago, said she'd be back late. Sounded a little tipsy. I think more goes on at that book club than Joyce is letting on."

"For like the first hour," Buffy said, and ran her fingers through Faith's hair. "Then they start talking about how men suck and they all get wasted. They did the club here one week, I saw the whole grisly spectacle."

Faith didn't really know what to do. She was angry with Buffy…Buffy had lied to her tonight, and she wondered how many other lies there had been. She felt like Buffy had betrayed her. Cheated on her. She'd been thinking about what she should do, how she should be, when Buffy got home. She hadn't been able to decide. But that tear in Buffy's eye decided for her.

Faith was a little distant, the rest of that night, and the next day: whenever Buffy wanted to lie down with her, she seemed to find excuses not to. When they started kissing, Faith was always the one who stopped first. Buffy didn't understand it…

She sat at the table Sunday night, and ate the peanut butter and jelly sandwich Joyce had made for her because dinner had been meat loaf and Buffy hadn't eaten much of it. Faith was in the bathroom.

"She's good. Are you sure I'm not adopted and Faith's not like, your actual long-lost daughter?"

"I practice," Buffy said. "I come up with like, little routines. Can I ask you something huge and like, you're probably gonna be freaked out but I need to ask you anyway?"

"Sure. You can't get a tattoo and you can't skip your first year of college to find yourself."

"Faith's…living in that motel," Buffy said, looking down at the table. "And she doesn't have a job and…she's got money? Like, enough to keep her afloat there for a few months, but…"

"Well that was easy. How come that was so easy? That was totally easier than all the times I ask you if I can get a tattoo."

"You can't ever get a tattoo. I like Faith. And I don't like her living in that cheap motel, in that lousy neighborhood. And someone should eat my meat loaf."

"I know, Buffy," Joyce said. "I love you too. So when are you going to ask her?"

"She's not in trouble yet, she's got money to last awhile. And Faith's… complicated. She's proud. I have to do this just right. She can't feel like…"

"She can't feel like it's charity," Buffy said. "If she feels like we're just feeling bad for her she'll bail."

"How come you like her so much?" Buffy said. "I mean…I don't mean that like, you shouldn't like her, I'm psyched that you like her, but…I'm just curious, I guess."

"You know, that's a good question," Joyce said. "I guess…she just seems like a sister for you. Maybe because you're both Slayers, maybe you two have a connection that I can kind of sense. I always wanted you to have a sister, you know. And that's the way she feels to me. Like a little sister for you."

"I don't know. Your father wasn't as far up the ladder at work then as he would be later, and I was staying at home raising you before I went in on the art gallery. We only had your father's income. And I guess…life just…got in the way. By the time we were comfortable enough financially, by the time we'd bought the house in Los Angeles and the art gallery was successful, things between your father and I…well…we had problems."

"You always raised me. I always felt loved, always felt like I wasn't missing anything. Even after he left, I never felt like I was missing anything. You're an awesome Mom. You're the best Mom in the world."

"Thank you. Did you lose another pair of my earrings? Are you preemptively laying the groundwork for another earring confession?"

"No," Buffy said, and giggled. "But I was thinking about asking if I could get a tattoo again."

"Just a little one. A little one on my ankle. It wouldn't even be bad. It would be like, a flower, or maybe some Chinese thing."

"It would just be a little one?" Joyce said. "And you promise it wouldn't be obnoxious?"

Buffy's eyes lit up. "You totally have my word," she said. "Cross my heart, hope to die. It would be the smallest, nicest little thing and you would never even notice it."

Buffy looked like someone had put coal in her Christmas stocking. Joyce started laughing, and hugged her.

"I'm sorry honey, I just couldn't resist," Joyce said. "The look on your face was priceless."

"I'm your real mother, Buffy," Joyce said. "No one else could annoy you the way I do."

She was walking through the mall with Buffy two days later. They had just come out of Bloomingdale's and they had been all smiles: Buffy had a big Bloomingdale's bag full of thirty-percent off swag and Faith had managed to swipe a gorgeous little top; she put it on under her sweater. She'd been slick about it too; she'd stolen one of those devices they use to remove the magnetic tags a week before; it was like having the Keys to the City. She figured she was good to go and she felt footloose and fancy free…

But then a security guy followed them out of the store, talking on his walkie-talkie, and Faith noticed two more security guys at the other end of the mall heading in their direction, and Faith knew she had a situation. She couldn't hit them. She couldn't ever hurt an innocent person.

She'd rather get caught and spend time in jail for shoplifting than make Rebecca ashamed of her.

Still, the best plan was to not make Rebecca ashamed of her and to not spend time in jail. So she tried to locate the nearest exit in the few seconds she had before it all went south.

"Not vamps," Faith said. The mall was crowded: it was Saturday afternoon and it was packed with giggling teenagers. Up ahead of them at the intersection there was a big crowd gathered around a couple of sweet Porsches. There was some kind of prize drawing going on; a guy in a bad suit holding a microphone in his hand was talking about twenty lucky winners who would get keys and have a chance to see if their keys started the cars, and there were hundreds of people there, all whooping and hollering and clapping and excited. Faith remembered there was an exit around the corner from the cars, down the hallway on the right. She looked around, casually. There were four security guys now, two behind and two in front. They'd reach her in about twenty seconds. "Okay, confession time," Faith said. "I shoplifted a top and four mall security guys are following us, two in front and two behind."

"How about we talk it out later and right now we get the hell out of here," Faith said. She had to give Buffy credit. Buffy was still walking casually, not turning around, playing it cool.

"I don't frigging believe this," Buffy muttered, her face red. "You got a plan?"

"Yeah. There's an exit around the corner to the right of the cars, at the end of that hall. We run. Ready?"

They stopped running. They were at the far end of a softball park and the mall was four blocks back. There was no sign of the security guys. Faith bet they had probably given up before they even made it out of the parking lot. Arresting people was one thing; having to chase them down was another and mall security guys didn't make the kind of money that inspired them to go the extra mile.

"Yeah? Well I don't like feeling like a fucking thief!" Buffy screamed. "For all I know they've got me on tape there now, for all I know I can't shop anymore there now! What the hell is wrong with you?"

"They…they don't have you on tape," Faith said. "I made sure not to change in the changing room or anywhere near cameras. And even if there was a camera I missed, I made sure you weren't with me when I put the top on. Worst case they got me on tape, but not you."

"Great," Buffy said, as they started walking. It was after sunset now, and they were due at her house for dinner. "So you're a thief."

"Yeah," Faith said, and just looked straight in front of her, into the gathering darkness, her face red. "Guess I am. Guess I'm a lot of stuff."

"Okay, you screwed up, okay?" Buffy said. "And…I blew up at you and I'm sorry. You're not a thief. You just made a dumb move."

"Look, I'm gonna…I'm gonna head back to my motel, okay?" Faith said. "I'm…kinda beat. Tell Joyce…I don't know. I'll catch her next time."

"I…don't want you to skip out on dinner," Buffy said. "I want you to have dinner with us. Yeah okay, I blew up at you and embarrassed you and I'm sorry. I guess you're a little pissed at me and I know I'm a little pissed at you. But that's all it is. It's something we'll both forget about by tomorrow. I want you to have dinner with me and my Mom. I don't want you back in that motel tonight. I don't like you in there. I want you having dinner with me and then I want us to patrol afterwards like we planned."

"Okay, I'm getting deja vu here," Buffy said. "Remember our first night? We were both a little pig-headed. How about we skip that part and cut to us both just chilling out and being reasonable this time."

"Faith," she said. "I'm sorry, okay? I was just pissed, I didn't mean it. I want you to have dinner with me, I don't like you in that motel all alone. Please?"

"Buffy…" Faith said. She couldn't look at her. "I need to be apologizing, not you. I…embarrassed you and almost got you in trouble and I'm sorry."

Dinner had been going well. Faith was still a little uncomfortable around Joyce but she was making strides with it and she was pretty sure Joyce hadn't noticed. Things had started out quiet because of what happened at the mall but Buffy had been slowly chipping away at Faith's mood and Faith had allowed it, letting her guard down as the night went on. Dinner was chicken and Joyce made a good chicken, and then they had all laughed when Buffy told the story of Xander and the giant preying mantis lady, and Faith had even gotten Joyce to blush when she mentioned that she thought Giles was cute. Joyce looked like Buffy when she blushed. Faith found herself having a good time.

And then on the way out of the bathroom Faith overheard Joyce talking to Buffy about how Buffy could take off for college out of state after graduation, and Faith could hang around Sunnydale and take over as the Slayer.

"You're going to fill out all those college applications, right?" Faith heard Joyce say.

"I think you'll like going away to school, and being somewhere new," Faith heard Joyce say. "It'll be like an adventure. And with Faith here, Sunnydale will be okay."

As Faith stood at the top of the stairs, listening, she knew she really couldn't blame Joyce. It's not like Faith had anything better to do; Buffy had a future and she didn't. That's just the way it was. Buffy was smart and she wasn't. Buffy had a Mom who loved her and she didn't. No reason for Buffy to spend her life shoveling shit against the Hellmouth tide when there was a dumb girl who couldn't do anything but fight and shoplift just hanging around…

They were patrolling through a cemetery on the east side of town; Faith didn't remember its name. It looked like all the rest anyway. Still, Faith knew she should probably pay attention. This was going to be her life, after Buffy left her.

"Dinner was good. Joyce is nice," Faith said. She thought she should probably reach out with her senses, tune into her nose. But she didn't really see a reason to bother. If there were vampires, they'd find her and come at her. And then they'd die or she would. Same as every other day. And then one day one of them would kill her, and then there'd be some other girl, some other Watcher…

"I'm just…feelin' kinda quiet I guess. Joyce didn't think I was rude, did she? I mean, it's nice of her, having me over. She's a great Mom."

"Faith, I don't know how many times you want me to say it," Buffy said. "I'm sorry I called you a thief, I just…I lost my temper. I didn't mean it. I don't know what to do to get you to believe me."

"Nothing. Look…you've shown me around all the cemeteries pretty good, I can take it from here."

"I mean y'know, patrolling. You don't have to hold my hand anymore. I can take it from here. Figure from now on, if you wanna patrol or whatever, we can coordinate, like, you do one section of town, I do the other. Kind of a waste of resources, us always being together all the time. I mean, there are probably vamps we could bag that we're missing, people we could save that we're missing by not separating. We'd cover more ground separate."

"What is this?" Buffy said, and stood up. "You don't…you don't want to be with me anymore?"

"I just mean…it's…more efficient," Faith said. "We split up, cover more ground, save more lives maybe."

"Yeah. You know what? I've been saying I'm sorry all frigging day and I'm tired of it," Buffy said, looking away from her, her face red. "I'm not the one who stole that top, I'm not the one who got us into this. So you wanna be pissed at me forever about this? You don't…don't wanna be with me anymore over some little bullshit thing like this? Fine."

"I guess you never really…never really liked me in the first place then," Buffy said, her voice shaky, and walked away.

"This isn't fair!" Buffy shouted. "It isn't fair how you're…how you're totally holding this over my head like this! I said I was sorry like a hundred times and you won't even talk to me! Why did you even shoplift that stupid fucking thing in the first place?! You've got three-thousand dollars! Why did…?"

"You don't have three-thousand dollars," Buffy said. "Whenever we've gone out to eat lately you've been ordering the cheapest stuff, dollar menu stuff. Every time. I could tell you were hungrier than that. Whenever my Mom's cooked lately you've been eating as much food as my Mom could heap on your plate. Because you're hungry, aren't you? Budgeting your money's one thing, but there's no way you'd let yourself go without eating just to save a few bucks. Your money ran out awhile back, didn't it? I'm an idiot. I should've seen it."

Faith looked out at the cemetery. She saw her life there, stretching out in front of her. She wondered if she'd beat the odds…if she'd make it past nineteen. What was the point anyway?

"I took you to all those great fabulous stores and you could never afford to buy a single thing and you kept smiling through it," Buffy said.

"Look, don't worry about me, okay?" Faith said. "I gotta go. From now on we should…we should split up our patrols, take different sections of town. It's just more efficient. We'll save more people."

"I mean, that's the job, right? That's why we're out here," Faith said. "So y'know, let's do the job. I need to get a feel for the town myself now, you've showed me around enough. I got any questions I'll ask. Look, I'm gonna take off, okay? Nothin' doin' out here tonight. Take it easy, I'll catch ya later."

And Faith walked away…and left Buffy alone, looking out at the cemetery…at her life, stretching out in front of her…

It was Friday afternoon and Willow had dragged Faith out of her motel room and insisted they hang out at the Starbucks and drink coffee together. Willow had been trying to hang out with her a lot lately, and she didn't seem to want to take no for an answer. Faith had blown her off a couple of times but today it had just seemed simpler to give in.

Faith liked Willow. But she knew Willow was only doing this because she felt bad for her…she must have heard about her fight with Buffy, and she felt bad. Just like the time she'd taken Faith on a tour of Sunnydale. Willow felt bad.

She sat on a couch in the Starbucks with Willow, and looked around at the paintings on the walls that were cooler than they had any right to be, hanging in a Starbucks. She watched the college kids sitting around on couches drinking coffee and gazing lovingly into their laptops, and the old people reading newspapers and eating pastries at the little tables. Willow had brought her to the Starbucks a couple of times before; it was sort of their place now. Some kind of adult contemporary pseudo-alternative music was being piped in; it was a step above elevator music but in its blandness and its effort to blend into the background and not draw any attention to itself it stood out from the other noises, the conversations and the little computer sounds and the sounds of spoons and coffee mugs, and grated on Faith's nerves.

Willow drank her extra-large super mocha cappuccino with lots of sugar and cocoa sprinkles, and she had her laptop with her, as always. Faith drank her medium hot cocoa and she had six dollars in her pocket.

She didn't have the slightest idea what she was doing there. Maybe Willow wanted to make her watch her do homework.

"How you been, sweetie?" Willow said. "I miss hanging with you. It's hard like, prying you away from Buffy long enough to hang. You puttin' the fear into all the Big Bads?"

Willow always initiated the conversations. It wasn't that Faith didn't like her. She just never had any idea what to say to her. She was dumb and Willow was smart. What do you say to a smart girl? How's math been treating you?

"Yeah, y'know, I'm showin' all the bad guys the pimp hand, best I can," Faith said. Faith tried to keep her responses as varied and interesting as she could. She didn't want Willow to think she was bored. She liked Willow. She liked her strawberry scent. She liked how Willow's voice was goofy and soothing at the same time, and how she laughed too loud. She liked the weird sweaters she wore, and the funky hats. She had blown her off before but now she felt guilty about it.

It was probably better this way, Faith thought. Probably better that Buffy had given up on her.

The next morning there was a knock at the door. Faith stretched and yawned, and squinted at the window; she didn't have a clock but it looked early. She tuned into her nose. She smelled Buffy. And chicken?

She plodded to the door. She'd been out until three in the morning, slaying and stealing. She'd swiped some clothes from the mall, but unfortunately none of the vampires she'd mugged had any cash on them. She was down to three dollars.

When she opened the door a blast of cold air hit her. The look on Buffy's face wasn't doing anything to warm it up. Buffy brushed by her into the room and Faith quickly shut the door behind her. Buffy was wearing a sweater and tight jeans that fit perfectly and the usual expertly applied makeup. She was carrying a big plate of chicken with tinfoil on it. She set the plate on the bureau.

"I brought you some food," Buffy said. "Chicken. You liked my Mom's chicken last time."

"I got an idea," Buffy said, and sat on the bed and took off her coat. Faith thought it was a hell of a coat; it was a red hooded angora coat that fit Buffy perfectly and went nicely with her long blonde hair and Buffy looked great in it. "How about you stop lying to me. Makes things simpler."

"My Mom wants you over for dinner again," Buffy said, looking away from her. "I know you hate me now but she wanted me to invite you, she wants to know why you haven't been over all week."

"What?" Faith said. "What the hell makes you think I hate you? Where the hell did you get that idea?"

"Will you come over for dinner?" Buffy said. "My Mom wants you to come over tonight, if you're not busy. You don't have to hang out with me. You can just eat and leave if you want."

"Buffy," Faith said, and took her hand. "I don't know where you're getting this from, okay? I don't hate you."

Faith's plan was to ignore Buffy, to make it easier to lose her when she graduated from school. Faith was realizing she couldn't stick to that plan.

She knew Buffy had lied to her. She knew Buffy was planning on leaving her. Faith guessed maybe she was Buffy's fling before college. She thought the guy she saw Buffy kissing was the one-time guy, the guy Buffy had talked about…and that Buffy still loved him, and always would, and that was that.

"How about I come over for dinner tomorrow night?" Faith said. "Is Joyce good with tomorrow night?"

"Okay," Buffy said. And finally looked at her. Faith thought she looked tired. She looked like she hadn't been sleeping. But she was still beautiful.

It would be hard from now on, Faith knew; a balancing act. She had hurt Buffy, by pulling away. Faith knew she'd have to let Buffy in again, at least a little…no matter how much it would hurt when Buffy eventually left her after graduation, she had to let her back in. She couldn't let Buffy think she hated her.

Faith brought the plate of chicken back to the bed, and brought the last two Cokes in from the bathroom, and they ate together in silence.

A week later it was Saturday night and it was Halloween, and Faith sat with Buffy and Willow and Xander in the Bronze, and tried to be part of the group. According to Buffy, vampires took Halloween off so there was no reason to bother patrolling. Vampires apparently considered going out on Halloween tacky. Xander was dressed as James Bond. "Just in case," he had said. Willow was wearing a catsuit. "And I look so much better than Cordelia in it," she had said. Faith had to agree. She'd met Cordelia after they had killed Kakistos, and Cordelia was hot enough, but as far as Faith was concerned Willow was rocking that catsuit.

"Yeah, so there I am, wearing, no lie, a bikini and flip-flops, and I'm chasing this vampire for like six miles through Boston, into Cambridge and Watertown," Faith said, chuckling. "And it's summer, right? It's summer and it's a Saturday night and people are out on the streets pointing at me, drunk guys are like 'take it off, honey!' and 'do I get fries with that shake?' and I remember thinking to myself as I'm chasing this vamp for six miles in a frigging bikini, God damn it, does that girl in California ever have to deal with shit like this?"

They laughed. "No," Buffy said. "But you'd be surprised at what I do have to deal with." Faith smiled. She liked when she could make Buffy laugh.

"Um…where'd you keep your stake?" Willow said. "I mean, you were wearing a bikini."

Buffy ignored the image that came into her head just then. She knew she couldn't have Faith that way again…Faith didn't want her that way anymore. So she tried not to think about her that way. But Faith was so beautiful…and it was hard, sometimes…

"Faith has the coolest stories ever," Xander said. "Why doesn't Buffy have stories like that?"

"Nope," Willow said. "Trust me, Xander, it's a trap. Like that time she asked you if she looked fat."

Faith thought the Bronze was still a dump. But Faith had nothing against dumps: The Roxy wasn't winning any awards either. And the dance floor was still serviceable. Crazy, laughing kids in Halloween costumes were dancing to Monster Mash now. The music tonight was a snooze; a bunch of corny Halloween songs that you couldn't really dance to was being piped through the speakers. It didn't stop the Sunnydale kids from dancing though. Those kids could dance to anything. Folk music, corny Halloween music…Faith just didn't get these people. Faith wanted a DJ spinning good, fast tunes. One DJ in particular.

So she sat on the plush couch with Buffy and Willow and Xander, and tried to be part of the group…and tried not to think of Evan…and tried not to think of Buffy, leaving her.

Buffy didn't sit next to her. Willow sat next to her. Buffy sat at the opposite end of the couch, next to Xander.

"So how do you like Sunnydale, Faith?" Willow said, as the conversation hit a wall. Faith only had so many stories to tell. Willow was always the one who tried to keep the conversation going, who tried to keep Faith involved. Faith knew part of it was gratitude; she'd saved the girl's life, after all, so Willow kept trying, despite their differences. Faith had been in Sunnydale a little more than a month now, and she had come to realize there were a lot of differences. Willow was sweet, and kind, and most of all, smart. Honor roll every semester, all kinds of options waiting after graduation. Harvard had already accepted her, Oxford had recruited her. Faith had dropped out of school after ninth grade, she lived in a motel that might as well have been a brothel and she knew the closest she'd ever get to college was that time she broke into UC Sunnydale and stole a sword. Willow was smart. Faith was dumb. And Willow felt bad for her.

Willow had made a real effort to talk to her, to try to get to know her. She had been coming by Faith's motel all week, asking to come along when she patrolled, inviting her to the Starbucks, and asking her about Boston and Rebecca and what it was like to be a Slayer. Willow kept pretending to like her, kept trying to include her. Faith had decided it would be easier to just play along until Willow got bored. She blew her off when she could get away with it and hung out with her when she couldn't come up with an excuse not to. Faith was a dumb girl with no money, no friends and no family, so she knew for now she was Willow's charity project. Adopt a Slayer. She figured Willow would give up eventually. She and Buffy would be graduating next year, they had college coming up, plans to make…lives to get ready for. Faith figured they'd try to hang out with her off and on until graduation, then they'd leave, move away, and they'd all lose touch, and Faith would be the Slayer guarding the Hellmouth, maybe with Giles as her Watcher, and Buffy would be gone…

Faith knew Willow was just hanging with her because she felt bad, but trying to figure Buffy out gave Faith a headache. She knew Buffy was leaving after graduation and instead of banging her head against a wall she'd finally decided to just try to enjoy the time they had left. But Xander was easy to figure, at least. He wanted her around so he could try to get into her pants; what else could it be? That's all guys ever thought she was good for anyway. She'd caught him checking her out a few times, though he was being slick about it. And there was no other good explanation for why a guy would want to hang with her. He still hadn't asked her out. She wondered when he would.

Faith didn't fit with Buffy and Willow and Xander, with their families and their nice houses; with homework and hanging out at the mall and planning for college. She knew she didn't fit.

Faith took a sip of the Coke she'd been nursing all night because she only had enough money for one. It was down to watery ice cubes now.

"You've had a month to get used to it now…if anyone ever does," Willow continued, sipping her ever-present mocha cappuccino. "Is Buffy showing you all the coolest old crypts? She's not hogging all the A-list Big Bads, is she?"

"You haven't had the entire Sunnydale experience until you've met your first giant snake," Xander said.

"Maybe not a giant snake," Willow said. "There was this medium-sized snake that wasn't so bad."

"Don't worry, you never know when we'll get another giant snake," Buffy said. "You'll get the full ride eventually. Things don't really heat up around here until spring anyway. For some reason, around April and May is when the Hellmouth always decides to really get jiggy with it."

"So Faith, we know where Willow stands on giant snakes," Xander said. "What's your official position?" He grinned. "Ow," he added, as Willow did something to him under the table.

Faith had to give Xander points for trying. "Wanna know what I think about big, long snakey things, huh?" she said, and grinned back at him.

"She loves them," Buffy said. "And so do I. We both love big, long, hard snakey things. They're just the greatest."

"Absolutely," Buffy said. "But hey, I hear medium's great too," she added, smiling at Xander.

"So Faith, what's Boston like?" Willow said, blushing a little, and quickly changing the subject. It was about the fifth time one of them had asked her. It was the kind of question you asked a stranger, when you didn't know what else to say.

"Your accent," Buffy said. "You're like the lost Kennedy. You're all, 'I, ah, would like to, ah, propose that we pahk the cah in Hahvahd yahd, and, ah, furthermawh, ich bin ein Berlinah!'," Buffy said, as Willow and Xander laughed.

"There's this letter," Xander said. "It comes between 'Q' and 'S'. You should try it out sometime, see how you like it."

"Yeah I know, but I'm sorta learning my way around," Faith said. "Introducing myself to the vamps. Y'know, like, 'Hey, vamps and vampettes, name's Faith, I'll be your Slayer for this evening.'"

"What?" Willow said. "What do you mean she doesn't like us? She likes us. Of course she likes us. Who wouldn't like us?"

"Will, whenever she's with us she says about six words and takes off early," Xander said. "Either she doesn't like us or I really need to change my deodorant, and no, we will not be making 'Xander is smelly' jokes now."

Buffy thought back to the day she and Faith first met. They had started at each other's throats, almost coming to blows; they had ended in bed together, having sex so passionately that for much of the act, neither of them was quite sure if they were fucking or fighting. All in a day.

"Maybe she's just shy," Willow said. "She's been through some stuff, with her Watcher and everything, and now she's all the way on the other side of the country. Maybe she just needs time to get used to us."

"It's not you guys," Buffy said. "She likes you guys. It's me. She doesn't want to be here with me. I think…she might leave. Maybe she needs to leave, find her own place, her own territory."

Buffy thought about it. She thought about what her life was like, before she met Faith…how much simpler it was.

"How have you been honey?," Joyce said, as she served them dinner. Beef stew. "I hear Buffy and Xander have been making fun of your accent."

It was Thursday. Dinner at Buffy's house had turned into a regular thing again, and Faith was expected to show up, at least twice a week. Faith hadn't been able to come up with an excuse to get out of it tonight, so she sat at the kitchen table with Buffy, and smiled politely at Joyce. She'd blown Buffy's friends off as often as she could get away with, but there were some lines she knew she couldn't cross with Buffy; being rude to Joyce was one of them. On days she didn't come over for dinner, Faith always found a homemade meal waiting for her in her motel room. Faith usually slept with the window open, so Buffy came in through the window in the mornings before Faith woke up, and left a plate of food.

"People from Boston talk like the Mayor on the Simpsons," Buffy said. "Someone needs to make fun of them."

"Your accent is charming, Faith," Joyce said, and patted Faith's hand. "Don't you ever lose it."

"Yeah, correct ones," Buffy said. "But it's cool, it's like hanging with a foreign exchange student. Um, but one who isn't really a Mummy."

"It's just that it seems to be all you ever talk about," Joyce said. "It's good to have a little time every day when you don't."

"So to wrap up the Mummy story real quick, weird foreign exchange girl lived with us for a week, turned out to be an Incan Mummy, dated Xander, tried to kill us all, I kicked her butt," Buffy said.

"She was pretty enough before she decided to kill everyone," Buffy said. "Xander was always a weird girl magnet. Demon girls, Mummy girls, giant preying mantis girls, yup, they all wanted to get busy with Xander."

When they were finished eating, before Faith could come up with a reason to take off, Buffy said, "Mom, Faith and I are gonna go up to my room and hang out." Faith noticed something strange in the look Buffy and Joyce exchanged.

"Sure, honey," Joyce said. "There's ice cream in the fridge if you both want dessert later."

"Come on, Faith," Buffy said, as they excused themselves and Faith thanked Joyce for the dinner. "I'll show you my Brad Pitt scrapbook."

When they got to her room Buffy closed the door and said, "Relax, Faith. I'm not gonna try to kiss you, okay?"

"Shoot," Faith said. She wondered what it was going to be now. It seemed like every other day there was another left turn in her life. Losing Rebecca and Evan. Coming to Sunnydale. Killing Kakistos. Having sex with Buffy. Kissing Buffy, going on dates with her. Realizing she liked girls. Realizing she thought Willow was hot too. Trying to figure out if she was gay now. Wondering what the hell to do about Buffy…wondering how she would live without her.

She knew she would have to, eventually. She knew Buffy was leaving her to go away to school next year. And then she would be alone again.

"I'm not stupid, Faith. I can see how uptight you are…how awkward this all is for you. I get that. And okay, I get that you don't want us to be…whatever. It's fine. I'll deal. But you're staying in that motel and it's…look, I want you to stay here with me. I talked to my Mom about it, we've got the extra bedroom that we've never done anything with, and we want you to stay here. This isn't like, I'm saying things have to go back to how they were between us. You don't want that and I get it. It's just…we've got the room here and…

Faith would have loved to stay there, in that big house with her own bedroom on the sunny, tree-lined street. It would be like having a sister.

But the offer was charity. Just like whenever Willow asked her to come hang out with her…Faith knew it was charity.

And she didn't think she could stand to be in that house with Buffy, and know she couldn't really have her…she thought it might kill her, after awhile.

"Faith, listen," Buffy interrupted, and stood up with her. Faith could tell Buffy had rehearsed this; she'd been ready for Faith to turn her down and she wasn't done with the hard sell yet. Faith braced herself for it. "You save people's lives and you're in that lousy little motel room and it's not right, you deserve better than that. God knows how you're even supporting yourself, and…"
"God knows? Why, what do you think I'm doing to support myself? Think I'm hooking or something?"

Faith had no idea why she said that. But it was out there and she knew she couldn't take it back now.

She thought about the alley, where Rebecca had found her. She still remembered how it smelled. Old coffee grounds and rotten meat and bananas.

"What?!" Buffy shouted. "Of course not! How could you even think that? I was just saying that you –"

"That I'm poor, right?" Faith said. "That you feel bad for me. Like those little kids on TV. For just thirty cents a day we'll make sure this poor, hungry Boston girl can get a good meal."

Buffy's face went crimson. She'd offended Faith, and she felt bad about it. At the same time she wanted to kick her through a wall.

"You don't get to do that!" Buffy screamed, jabbing her finger in Faith's face. "You don't get to take this and…and throw it back in my face like this! You don't get to throw this back in my Mom's face! She asked you into her home! Because she likes you! Yeah, okay, we want to help you out! What's so frigging wrong with that? You think I care that you don't have money? That it makes me think less of you? I don't have money either! My Mom has money! You and I are seventeen! We don't get to decide who are parents are or how much money they have! So okay, fine! Your family didn't have money! So what?"

Buffy caught her breath. She wondered what her mother must be thinking downstairs.

"You know what, Faith?" Buffy said. "I've tried. Willow's tried, Xander's tried, Giles has tried. We're trying to include you, trying to help you out. And yeah, sure, part of it's that we feel bad for you. You're a Slayer and you don't have anywhere decent to live and you lost your Watcher and your mother used to hurt you, and it's not fair."

"Yeah," Buffy said. "I know about your mother, about what she did. The Watchers knew about it, so Giles knew. You always wondered why I wouldn't spank that little ass of yours, right? You remember, back before you got bored with me and decided to move on? Now you know."

"Fuck this," Faith said, her voice unsteady, on the verge of tears. She marched to the door.

"Faith," Buffy said, her voice very steady. "Unless you want to fight me for real, right here and right now, you're gonna stand there and listen to what I have to say. You're not walking out that door until I'm done. And if you try I swear to God I'll kick your ass from one end of this fucking town to the other and you'll find out once and for all which one of us is tougher."

"Might be good for us to find that out," Faith said, looking back at her, and not giving an inch. "Once and for all."

Buffy walked away from her. "We've tried," she said. "Yeah, okay, partly because we feel bad. But that's not all it is. I was wrong about you that first night in the cemetery, but only partly wrong. You're not stupid. But you're arrogant. You're so wrapped up in yourself you can't fucking see straight."

Buffy turned to her. But Buffy was looking at her in a way Faith had never seen before. Like she was letting her go.

"You think we're trying and trying, and putting up with your shit, with your moods and your constantly blowing us off, because we feel bad for you?" Buffy said. "Willow and Xander, you think they invite you out because they feel bad for you? Like they look for people less fortunate than themselves to hang around with? They've got better things to do. Me? Giles? I'm the Slayer and he's my Watcher. We save lives. We've got better things to do than feel bad for you. Do you really think we spend all day worrying about you and whether or not you're depressed this week? Okay, yeah, you're a Slayer. That and a buck buys you a mocha cappuccino in this town. But there's just gonna be another one after you, so if you go south, we'll get over it. News flash: you're not on our minds all day. We don't spend our days thinking up creative new ways to be nice to you. Because you're just not that important. So if you want to live in that motel and steal to get by, or whatever it is you're doing now? Fine. Go ahead. At least you'll have your pride, right? Your pride, and no friends."

"You know why we all kept trying to include you?" Buffy said. "The real reason why? My Mom, Willow, all of us? Not because we're all scrambling around trying to fix your life. It's because we were stupid enough to like you, and to think you liked us back. That's it. No big conspiracy. I thought…I thought you liked me. But you obviously don't. You never want to be with us, you never want to be with me anymore. You've got better things to do too, I guess. So hey, congratulations, Faith. We get the message. We give up."

She turned and looked at Faith, and if Faith could have taken back everything she had said, she would have, when she saw that look in Buffy's eyes…when she saw the hurt she knew she had caused.

"If you don't want to be here then maybe you should go back to Boston, Faith," Buffy said.

"I thought Faith was supposed to be with you?" Giles said, the next day, when he answered the door and saw Buffy standing there.

"So did I," Buffy said, following him into the house. She walked into the living room and sat on the couch. "Didn't work out that way."

"I see," Giles said. "Would you like something to eat? I have some more of those tea cookies I know you don't like."

Giles went into the kitchen and came back with a pot of tea and three cups on a tray. He poured tea for himself and Buffy.

"Perhaps Faith will arrive after all. Terribly unfair to begrudge her some of my excellent tea."

"Terribly," Buffy said, and sipped her tea. "But something tells me she won't be coming, Giles."

"Faith happened. What else is new? She just doesn't want to be here, Giles. She doesn't want to be with me. Maybe Boston's really the best place for her. Maybe…two Slayers together…"

"This town isn't big enough for the both of you, hmm? You really are distressingly American at times."

"You've tried to talk to her, you know how she is. Don't tell me she's not a pain in your ass too."
"Oh yes, very much so. In fact she reminds me of another Slayer I know. I met her a little over a year and a half ago, as I recall…an appallingly disrespectful girl. Called me 'a textbook with arms', I believe."

"And whenever I politely broached the subject of perhaps doing a bit of training or reading up in the Watchers Chronicles she always told me she had better things to do," he continued, sipping his tea, his blue eyes twinkling as he regarded her over the cup.

"She sounds like a real lost cause," Buffy said. "If I were you I would've told her to hit the bricks."

"I won't say I wasn't tempted," Giles said. "I tried my best with her, but when I offered her my counsel, the benefit of my years of experience…"

"She rebuffed me, every time," Giles said. "She wanted to do everything alone, much like Faith. Wouldn't even let me come on patrol with her. I actually had to follow her when she was on patrol, trying to stay hidden lest she cut me out of her life altogether. Yes, that one was definitely a pain in my arse."

"I saw you, you can't hide from a Slayer," Buffy said, and grinned. "I thought it was cute that you were following me, so I let you. This old English guy, huffing and puffing behind me…"

"This not so old, still very young and vigorous, English guy huffing and puffing behind me, trying to keep up with me…it was cute. So I let you. And we got it together, right? I even do training stuff now…sometimes."

"Buffy, I don't know what happened between you and Faith, and I'm certain you're not going to tell me. But I've found, in all my years and years and years on this Earth…that sometimes, people can surprise you."

"It's not her," Buffy said, looking back at the door. "It's probably Xander. He hates when I do Slayer stuff without clueing him in."

"Remember what I told you the cardinal rule of being a Slayer is," Giles said, and got up and opened the door.

"Bite your tongue, G-Man," Faith said. "I never went away." She followed him to the living room, looking past him, at Buffy. Buffy's face was red.

"Have a seat on the couch, Faith," Giles said. "It's big enough for the both of you." Buffy glared at him, and moved to the opposite end of the couch as Faith sat down.

"I have some tea cookies too, if you'd like," Giles said. "They're really quite dreadful."

"Uh…that's okay," Faith said, and sipped her tea. She stole a quick glance at Buffy. Buffy was looking straight ahead, straight at Giles.

Usually people didn't say anything after you said 'can't complain'. Faith didn't have a comeback ready. "Uh…no," Faith said. "Everything's good."

"We're going to have to talk about that, Faith. About your plans, and what you see yourself doing. But not tonight. Tonight, I have a mission for the two of you. I was very impressed by the way you worked together to defeat Kakistos and his men, especially now that I've done more research and I know how formidable he was. You may not want to admit it," Giles said, looking at Buffy, "but you two make an excellent team. You'll need to work as a team again tonight."

"Zombies," Faith said, as she walked through the cemetery that night with Buffy, each of them carrying a katana. It was a small cemetery, about the size of a schoolyard, with a broken gate, only two crypts, both in disrepair, and a few dozen tombstones. The lawn was weed-grown, and there were beer bottles and cigarette butts scattered around. "Never did zombies before."

Buffy finally stopped, and looked at her. "What's there to talk about?" she said. "We said everything there is to say."

"B…" Faith said, and sat on a tombstone, and looked down at the weeds. "You were right. You were trying to help me out and I threw it in your face. I'm sorry. You want me out of your town? Say the word, I'll leave in the morning."

"It was nice of her…always having me over, offering to let me stay," Faith said. "She's a nice lady."

"Yeah, she is," Buffy said. "In an always worrying kind of way. Like Carol Brady on speed."

"I just…don't know if I fit, B. I don't know if there's anywhere I fit. I had this good thing in Boston, with Becca, y'know? I had it real good, and then it all fell apart. I…I fucked it all up," Faith said, looking down at the weeds again. "I couldn't stop Kakistos and Becca died and it all fell apart. I fucked it all up."

"Faith," Buffy said. "First rule of being a Slayer. It's not 'Your Watcher is always right', which is what Giles will try to tell you it is. That's maybe the second rule. The first rule is, don't die."

"Doesn't feel like the right thing," Faith said. "There should be a rule that says, 'Don't let your Watcher die.'"

A corpse suddenly shambled out of one of the crypts, moving toward them, but very slowly. Another followed after it, and then two more.

"They're pretty much like in the movies. Beheading them works. Although Giles says the ones in the movies should be called ghouls, since real zombies don't actually eat people and they don't spread like an infection like in the movies. Real zombies are either living people or reanimated corpses that are being controlled by someone else and don't have minds of their own. Like cheerleaders. But not as bitchy."

The zombies still hadn't reached them yet. Buffy and Faith watched them, and waited.

"These look like the corpse variety," Faith said. "They're pretty damn slow. How come Giles thinks this is gonna take two of us?"

"Because zombies are tough and they don't feel pain," Buffy said. "Kick them all day and they'll just stand there and giggle. And they hit you once and trust me, you'll feel it. The only way to stop them is beheading. Plus they work as a team, ganging up, trying to surround you. Think of them as all one mind, the mind of whoever's controlling them. And they're like roaches too. Where there's one, there's a hundred. Those crypts are probably crawling with them."

"And on top of that, we gotta find the doohickey Giles said was controlling them," Faith said. "The Enchanted Pendant of Whatever."

"And who knows where that's gonna be," Buffy said. "Somewhere gross and icky, probably."

"And the guy controlling the zombies is actually the ghost of some thousand year old wizard who's trapped in a hell dimension. Which is really weird, but hey, whatever, I'm dealing."

"Remember what Giles said, the Pendant thingy's his link to this dimension. We destroy it, the zombies all go poof and the wizard can't bother anyone again."

The zombies were ten feet away now. Buffy and Faith stood up, and held their swords ready.

"Zombies. Enchanted bling. Thousand-year old wizards," Faith said. "I remember when I used to think vamps were weird."

That night, Faith sat in one of the rickety chairs in her motel room, and read Rebecca's letter again.

Giles had given it to her, after she and Buffy had killed Kakistos. It was the only thing Faith had left of Rebecca now.

Faith is a constant surprise to me, and a treasure, Rebecca had written, on her own fancy stationery with her name at the top that Faith had seen her use sometimes, in her elegant, flowing longhand.

…I have found myself reluctant until now to bring Faith to Sunnydale, with its Hellmouth and its myriad dangers. But Faith is very curious about Buffy, and she has mentioned to me on more than one occasion that she wants to meet her. And I have found that it is impossible for me to refuse Faith, when she wants something. Therefore, when it's convenient for you and Buffy, I'd like to bring Faith to Sunnydale for an extended visit. Faith likes to see new places, and I've already mentioned to her that I believe it's time that she and Buffy start coordinating their efforts…

Afterwards, lying awake in bed, Faith remembered Buffy's words, but she wasn't sure if Buffy was right. She thought maybe she had died after all, somewhere back in Boston…that the fall from the Prudential building really had killed her…that she had died with Rebecca.

She had been driven from her territory and she could never go back. Even with Kakistos gone, she was convinced now that the burden of being a Slayer couldn't be shared with anyone else. She knew if she went back to Boston she wouldn't be able to stop herself from going to see Evan…and she couldn't risk him ever being endangered again.

She lied a lot; she lied to Giles when he asked her questions about herself, and she made up excuses to get out of hanging with Buffy and Willow and Xander, and she never talked about Rebecca, or Evan.

Buffy had it pretty good, with her Mom and her nice house and her Watcher and her friends. Faith knew she didn't fit…

She stole to get by, and she had started swearing again, and she ate fast food, and she didn't take piano lessons or go to museums or read books.

She didn't have territory anymore. No matter how many vampires Faith killed in Sunnydale, nothing would change the fact that Sunnydale was Buffy's territory. Faith wasn't the Slayer. Buffy was.

She looked over at the bureau. There was a plate of ham there. Buffy had snuck into the room and left it sometime that morning, while Faith slept. When Faith woke up it was there waiting for her. There were cookies too, in a folded-up napkin; Buffy knew Faith liked her Mom's homemade chocolate chip cookies, so Buffy always tried to include some, when she brought Faith food.

Faith got up and brought the plate of ham and mashed potatoes and corn and the napkin full of chocolate chip cookies to her bed.

Buffy knew Faith didn't like it when the mashed potatoes and the corn and the meat all got mixed together, so she carefully kept them separate whenever she made up a plate for Faith. The ham and the mashed potatoes and the corn were neatly segregated in their separate areas of the big plate.

The days passed, and Faith sat in her motel room, and looked out the window, and watched the little television, and ate the food Buffy brought her.

…Or if she was just now waking up, and her life with Rebecca had been only a dream.

The Sunnydale High cafeteria was a cacophony of sound: more than a hundred students sat at long tables in the big, sunny room, unwinding after four interminable periods of rote memorization and math they would never in their lives have occasion to use, all under the watchful, suspicious eye of the Lunch Lady, who was fat, mannish-looking and surly and glowered at them behind her cash register at the end of the lunch line from within a protective cloud of cigarette smoke. It was Friday, and the room was filled with the kind of shrieking laughter that comes from trying to fit as much fun as possible into fifty minutes, and fantasizing about two blissful days of sleeping in.

For something that sounded like a bag full of cats in heat the cafeteria was nevertheless as regimented and orderly in its way as a military barracks. Jocks and cheerleaders sit at the Cool Table, here. Non-jocks and non-cheerleaders who are nevertheless hotties and therefore given a pass get to sit there, directly adjacent to but not at the Cool Table, on a probationary basis. Band geeks over there, computer nerds and assorted pimply brainiacs next to them. Goths at their own table, preferably away from the fine china. The cool kids laughed, and the nerds and brains and goths and just plain ugly kids laughed too, but not as loud or as long, and not at the same things (them). Everyone had their table, everyone had their place in the pecking order, and unfortunately, everyone also had their greasy microwave pizza slices and their congealed potato puffs.

Buffy, Willow and Xander had their own table, in the no man's land at the other end of the cafeteria. It was located under the tattered old Go Razorbacks! sign, goth-adjacent and very, very far from the cool kids. The table was too big for three people, but Willow was still hopeful they'd get a visitor someday.

Cordelia sat at the head of the Cool Table, watching them. Not for the first time, she thought how strange a combination they were. Anyone could see that Buffy was a born cheerleader, with her perky blonde good looks, and Willow – a little too shy, a little too goofy, with shockingly limited fashion sense, a red Raggedy Ann mop that screamed "ten-dollar mall cut" and brainiac-level smarts – was also very obviously a computer nerd. Xander wasn't purebred like her; more of a general loser. Not having pimples was about all he had going for him. Cheerleader, computer nerd, loser. Which of these three things doesn't belong? But Buffy had her chance…

Cordelia shook her head, powered-up her smile, and went back to taking compliments on her new hairstyle and trying to repress the image of Xander Harris' naked ass that had taken up residence in her head for the past month.

"So, Buffy…how's Faith?" Willow said. "Are you gonna ask her to stay at your place again?"

"I don't know," Buffy said. "And shouldn't I be asking you how she is? You've been hanging with her."

"She's all mopey," Willow said. "It used to be, when we hung out? That like, I'd do ninety-percent of the talking. It's up to like, ninety-eight percent now. But I'm hanging in."

"You're awesome, Will," Buffy said, and squeezed Willow's hand, and smiled. "I don't tell you that enough. I'm glad you're hanging in with Faith."

"I like her," Willow said. "She makes me laugh. She's like a big goof. She's uncomfortable because she's broke a lot and it's tough because I know she'd never let me treat her? So I have to always kinda pretend like I don't notice that she orders like, one little coffee over three hours. Because I know if I ever was like, 'Hey, let me buy you another coffee' she'd get all uncomfortable. But even though she blows me off sometimes? I'm chipping away. I'm like one of those big ice-breaker boats. I'm breaking the ice."

"Yeah, there's that…there's always that, actually," Buffy said. "Faith and I spend about two-thirds of our time being pissed at each other these days. It was going great for awhile but…I don't know. Then something happened. It got weird. Anyway I don't think Faith wants me to ask her to stay with me again. It would embarrass her."

"She's been a little better around me since your fight," Willow said. "She hasn't blown me off at all this week. And she's mopey but…it's almost like…she's paying a little more attention now, when we go out. Like a lot of times when I used to talk to her, I mean, she'd always be polite, and try to act interested because she didn't want me to think she doesn't like me? But she'd be all closed off. But now she actually kinda seems like she wants to be there, a little. Like she's a little more open. I think that almighty ass-kicking you laid on her might have done her some good. But Buffy, she can't just stay in that motel forever."

"I don't think Faith's big on long-term planning," Buffy said. "I think she gets about as far as lunch."

"Will's right though, Buff," Xander said. "We can't keep it like this with Faith forever."

"Well, I think it'll work out with Faith. I asked the Goddess to help her out," Willow said, and grinned. "The Goddess and I are pretty tight these days."

"In my never-ending quest to try to manage a solid five minutes a day of not obsessing over Faith, how about we change the subject to you guys," Buffy said. "How's the most adorable couple ever?"

"I'm on an exercise regimen," Xander said. "Ow," he added, as Willow did something to him under the table.

"We're good," Willow said, and took Xander's hand. "Our six-week anniversary just passed."

"Oh God, that is the most adorable thing ever!" Buffy said. "Oh God, you guys are gonna make me cry now. I'm gonna get all goofy now and cry goofy friend tears."

Willow took Buffy's hand. "Happy tears, Buffy," she said. "We're happy. So you better be happy too, young lady," Willow added, giving Buffy the scowly face for emphasis.

"You know how long I've been hoping for this?" Buffy said. "This is like, my perfect fantasy. If you guys ever break up I swear I'll kick both your butts. So did you celebrate the anniversary? What did you do?"

"Well, Willow finally let me ow," Xander said, as Willow did something to him under the table again.

"We went out to eat in this really nice French restaurant I've had my eye on for awhile," Willow said. "And Xander gave me roses."

Buffy paused. A strange look passed her eyes. Willow thought she looked almost sad, for a second. Then Buffy smiled…or made herself smile.

Giles wiped his glasses at them. "Well actually, you might be –" he began, but Buffy held up her hand.

"Shush," Buffy said. "Before you start telling me how we're all doomed you have to congratulate Willow and Xander on their six-week anniversary."
"Their six-week…?" Giles said, confused. Then he smiled down at them. "Oh! Are you two dating now?"

"That's wonderful, Willow," Giles said, with that little winsome smile that showed off his dimples, and kissed Willow's cheek. "Congratulations."

"Aren't they the most adorable couple ever?" Buffy said. "They're the most adorable couple ever."

Giles held out his hand to Xander. "Congratulations old chap," he said, again with the smile and the dimples. "Quite a nice catch."

"Okay, I guess you can tell me about how the world's about to end now," Buffy said. "Is the world about to end?"

"Just so you know? I'm only gonna save the world this time because Will and Xander are the most adorable couple ever," Buffy said. "Everything else in the world is annoying except them. If it weren't for Will and Xander being so damned adorable I'd just take this apocalypse off and stay home and watch Melrose Place and eat ice cream."

"Yes, you know how I love your quirky sense of humor, Buffy," Giles said. "Especially at completely inappropriate times."

"Can you believe Lexi put Amanda out of business on Melrose?" Willow said. "That bitch!"

"And I'm like Katie Holmes' stalker," Xander said. "Will and I are the perfect couple."

"Excuse me?" Giles said, and smiled and held up his hand and waved at them all. "Hello? Watcher here? World ending? Hello?"

Sunnydale High had a marvelous library. Spacious, two-storied, with tall windows that let in a lot of light, it was a warm, welcoming place, with a vast selection of books for readers of all tastes; a place where one could spend a pleasant afternoon transported to any one of a thousand different worlds of the imagination. Of course, no one at Sunnydale High would be caught dead there.

Almost no one. Giles, Buffy, Willow and Xander were there, as they were most days. And, as on most days, Buffy, Willow and Xander were moderately-to-mostly snarky and Giles was anxious. He was fidgeting around in the stacks, wiping his glasses, which he did when he was anxious or they got fogged up, looking for a particular book among the hundreds of rare and potentially quite dangerous volumes that were inexplicably not locked away in a vault but displayed openly, or perhaps not so inexplicably if one remembers that no one would be caught dead there, while Xander was talking about Star Wars.

"But it ruins the whole scene if he doesn't shoot first!" Xander said. "You can't just go and make half-ass changes to one of the greatest movies of all –"

"Sweetie? You actually raised your right hand and swore on a Bible," Willow said. "Raised your right hand. And swore. On a Bible."

"I took that oath under duress," Xander said, looking accusingly at Buffy. "And my wrist still hurts, thank you very much."

"If I go to George Lucas' house and beat him up, will you stop talking about this?" Buffy said.

Giles came out of the stacks with a book, hurried over to them, and placed the book on the table. It was called Cultes des Goules, and it was turned to an illustration of four skeletons riding horses. It was also bound in human skin, but that wasn't anything new.

"Okay, can everyone stop being scared, please? Because it's scaring me," Xander said.

"Six-thousand years ago, a great flood covered the world. Perhaps you've heard of it," Giles said.

"The Bible embellishes it," Giles said. "The bit with the Ark never happened. But essentially, yes. Many people think the Flood itself was a myth, but it did really happen. What I always thought was a myth…was the presence of the Four Horsemen."

"Death, War, Pestilence, Famine," Giles said. "Personifications of suffering. In the ancient myths they arrive during the end times, to destroy mankind."

"If we can't prevent it, yes," Giles said. "And these aren't just run of the mill demons, Buffy. The Horsemen are forces of nature. Instruments of the divine. If they arrive they'll be unstoppable, they'll destroy everything in their path. Our job…your job, Buffy…is to make sure they never get here."

"Yup. It's Friday the thirteenth," Buffy said. "Friday the thirteenth on a Hellmouth. Other people are all like, I hope I don't spill coffee on myself today or fail my Spanish quiz. Not Buffy."

"They weren't leprechauns," Buffy said. "I refuse to believe in leprechauns. They were…I don't know. Like dwarves maybe."

"Xander, I keep telling you. There's no such thing as leprechauns," Giles said. "Now can we perhaps get back to the world possibly ending?"

"Y'know, kinda wishing now that I didn't have Willow destroy the Glove of Mini-golf," Buffy said. "Being able to shoot lightning might have been useful with this Four Horsemen thing."

"The problem with the glove being, y'know, having to wear it forever and ever," Willow said.

"Well, it wasn't very fabulous," Buffy said. "If I'm gonna have to wear something every second for the rest of my life it should at least be fabulous. Find me an adorable little Gucci purse that shoots lightning? Now we're talking."

"Lightning wouldn't be much help against the Horsemen anyway," Giles said. "They're completely impervious to harm, as far as I can tell."

"Well let's all look on the bright side. No giant snake this time," Xander said. He looked up at Giles. "Uh, these Horsemen guys aren't gonna have a giant snake with them, right?"

"No," Giles said with a sigh. "They won't be bringing a giant snake with them. They're merely invincible and unstoppable and will extinguish all life on this planet if they get here."

"What about Faith?" Xander said. "I mean, this sounds pretty major, and two Slayers are better than one, right?"

Giles looked at Buffy. "I've been trying to reach her," he said. "I'll keep trying. And Buffy should try too."

"So if these guys are so tough, then who stopped them six-thousand years ago?" Xander said.

Giles turned to a different page in the book. The page was an illustration of a stone artifact. "According to legend, six-thousand years ago, when hope was almost lost, a Sumerian priest performed some sort of prayer ritual, begging the gods for forgiveness," he said. "And an angel appeared with this Key."

"It seems the Key opens a dimensional gate, and the Horsemen have been trapped there ever since," Giles said. "The Key was lost…"

"Unfortunately not," Giles said. "The Council has informed me that the Key was recently excavated in an archaeological dig, and it was stolen from a museum in London a few weeks ago. They believe it's coming here."

King's Park Cemetery was a pretty place, or it would have been during the day; the rambling old cemetery with its gentle, rolling hills was well tended, with rose bushes here and there, and groves of tall sycamore trees casting cool, pleasant shadows in the hot California sun. But it was night now, and the shadows under the sycamore trees loomed vast and threatening, and the moss-grown crypts and the rows of decaying old tombstones looked cold and strangely unreal as Buffy, Faith, Willow and Xander wandered through the cemetery, watching for vampires by the light of the waning moon.

They were working, so Buffy was dressed practically: cargo pants, sweater, a wool coat, and comfy shoes with heels that were excellent for kicking and didn't impede her ability to run. But Faith was armed and fabulous, sporting a hot little ensemble she'd "borrowed" from the mall: nicely butt-hugging AG jeans, an adorable little red top she saw at The Gap and just had to have and a shiny, brand new pair of steel-toed Docs, excellent for vamp-stomping in style. Best of all, the weather was cold enough to wear Evan's leather coat.

Rebecca wouldn't have liked it that Faith had shoplifted the clothes. Faith acknowledged the thought, and then set it aside. She was working.

"Willy said the exchange is happening here," Buffy said. "And he's usually reliable after I've hit him a few times. They have to show eventually. Thank God my Mom's out of town for a couple of weeks. I have a feeling trying the 'But Mom, I had to stay out all night hanging around a cemetery because the Four Horsemen of the Apocalypse might be coming and the whole world might end' excuse wouldn't have gone over real well."

Nine vampires suddenly appeared from out of a grove of trees a ways ahead of them. Buffy grabbed Xander, Faith grabbed Willow, and they all ran behind a rose bush. Buffy and Faith peeked out.

"Well, if we weren't sure they were vamps that Bon Jovi tee shirt is a dead giveaway," Buffy said.

"We have to wait for the meet," Buffy said. "Could be the guys they're meeting up with have the Key and if we jump these guys that'll tip them off to us and they'll get away."

"Already nine of them," Faith said. "Once they join up with whoever they're meeting that'll be even more to deal with."

As Buffy and Faith watched, the vampires shuffled along toward an open crypt in the distance, laughing and jostling each other. A few of them were drinking from open whiskey bottles. The one with the Bon Jovi tee-shirt grabbed a bottle away from a fat vampire with muttonchop sideburns and a pompadour walking by his side and drank. Pompadour growled at Bon Jovi and tried to swipe the bottle back. Bon Jovi laughed and threw it over his head to a vampire wearing a Hawaiian shirt. Hawaiian Shirt laughed as Pompadour ran at him and made a grab for the bottle, tossing it to a vampire with a mohawk wearing a biker jacket.

"They're headed for that crypt down there," Buffy said. "We need to move closer so we can check it out."

"Trees at nine o'clock," Faith said, pointing to their left. "They go all the way down past the crypt. Gets us right up close with good cover and a good view. We make for the trees and circle around."

Pompadour eventually managed to snatch his bottle back. "Asshole," he said to Mohawk, and finished the bottle and tossed it away, as the vampires resumed shuffling toward the crypt. Pompadour was actually stumbling toward a tree in the opposite direction from the crypt, but Bon Jovi grabbed him by the shoulders and turned him around.

"Those vamps in there look a little different?" Faith said. They were watching the crypt from behind a stand of dense trees a hundred yards away.

"They look tougher," Buffy said. "And there are a lot of them too, looks like at least twenty vamps. We can't just walk in there. Wait a minute…Faith, you see those four old guys? Are those…priests?"

"Yeah," Faith said, squinting toward the crypt. "Looks like four old priest guys to me. What the hell's up with that? Christ, I hate this town."

"We'll sort it out later," Buffy said. "Right now we gotta pull a plan out of our asses." Buffy looked at her. "We gonna fight on this?"

"Okay, well, we can't just run in there, there are way too many of them," Buffy said. "They'll have too big an advantage in there."

"I pulled up a layout of this cemetery off the internet last year. The crypts here are all connected by tunnels. There could be a lot more vampires waiting underground too," Willow said.

"But if they make the exchange and disappear into those tunnels with the Key we're screwed," Faith said. "If the choice is between grabbing the Key now while we know what we're up against or waiting 'til it disappears underground and we gotta go fight through who knows how many vamps to go looking for it maybe we're better off taking our chances up here."

"She's got a point, Buffy," Xander said. "If those vamps get their hands on the Key there's no guarantee we'll ever be able to find it again."

"B's right though," Faith said. "If we get bogged down in a fight in there we're in deep shit. There's no room to move in there, the vamps will be swarming all over us. We gotta draw them out, before they make the exchange."

"I think one of them just opened a briefcase," Xander said. "If that's the payoff then we've only got until he's done counting."

"B, we don't figure a way to draw those guys out right now you and me gotta go in there," Faith said. "We gotta go in or we lose the Key."

"Nope," Willow said, and smiled, as they all looked back at her. "You need a witch."

"I'm sure you'll find it's all there," one of the priests said, as Bon Jovi bent over an ancient sarcophagus in the dusty old crypt, a briefcase full of cash open on top of it, and counted. The priest looked like a kindly white-haired old man, with a crewcut and a slight paunch. His voice was deep and soothing. He was dressed in a priest's traditional attire, with a single exception: around his neck he wore a golden pendant in the shape of a wand. Standing in the shadows behind him, eyeing Bon Jovi and his friends suspiciously, the other three old priests also wore golden pendants about their necks: a sword, a cup, a pentacle.

The crypt was small and cramped, holding just a handful of sarcophagi on the floor and in compartments built into the stone walls, and it was dark, lit only by a torch in a wall sconce near the door. The old dried blood stains that marred the stone floor looked brown in the torchlight.

The vampires with Bon Jovi chuckled. The vampires who stood beside the four priests growled back at them. Bon Jovi and his friends had never seen their like before. Their features were far less human in appearance than those of normal vampires; they looked bestial, savage. They had red eyes and pointed ears and canine snouts for noses; they looked like wolves. Their clothing was an afterthought: torn, dirty rags. They stood crouched slightly, with their arms held in front of them, like wolves standing on their hind legs. And each of them had the same tattoo on his right hand: a serpent devouring its tail.

The Priest of Wands looked at Bon Jovi with blue eyes that could cut glass, and smiled, appreciating the joke.

"Of course not, my son," he said, in his deep, soothing voice. "Though I will certainly kill you, very slowly and painfully, if you don't have my Key."

"Lotta money for a hunk of rock," Mohawk said. "Why's it so important to you anyway?"

"Shut up," the Priest of Swords said. He was of a very different sort than the Priest of Wands. He was tall and thin, and he looked younger, with iron-gray hair in a widow's peak, a mouth full of sharp little teeth and a nose like a hawk. "Show us the Key. Or I'll have our vampires rip your miserable throat out to stop your babbling." His voice was terse and clipped; it sounded like gears grinding. Behind him, the wolves growled again.

The Priest of Swords looked at him. The look in his hard, calculating eyes communicated the fact that he was considering killing Pompadour and all his friends. The look in his eyes communicated that fact quite clearly. Pompadour looked away.

"Almost done counting. Everyone just relax and…huh…?" Bon Jovi said, as the entire crypt suddenly filled with thick, billowing black smoke.

All four priests started coughing as the smoke insinuated itself into their lungs. The vampires didn't need to breathe, but none of them could see, and they stumbled around, growling and slashing at the air.

"The Key! Wait! Give us…" the Priest of Wands said, choking, as Bon Jovi grabbed the briefcase and ran out of the crypt with his pals. The four priests stumbled out after them, along with the strange wolf-faced vampires, but the smoke stayed with them; it blinded them, and snatched the air from their lungs.

"The Key!" the Priest of Swords shouted, spotting Bon Jovi through the smoke and grabbing him by the collar. "Give us the Key!"

"Hey!" Bon Jovi said, and smacked the Priest of Swords away. "I don't even know if the money's all here!"

The wolves sprang at Bon Jovi and his friends; in seconds all the vampires were at each other's throats, snarling and screaming, clawing and biting at each other. But the wolves all tried to get to Bon Jovi, and the Key…

"Get off me!" Bon Jovi screamed, as three of the wolves tackled him, snarling and snapping and biting at him, tearing into his flesh. He lost hold of the briefcase, and it bounced out of his hands and flew open, the money inside scattering through the cemetery.

"The money!" Bon Jovi screamed, as the wolves howled and slashed at him, trying to get the Key. With a snarl of triumph, one of them came up with it…

"Yoink," a voice said, and someone snatched the key from the wolf's hand. "B! I got it!"

"Let's go!" another voice said. The priests all looked around wildly; the vampires slashed at empty air. The smoke was everywhere; they couldn't see a thing. And no matter where they moved, the smoke remained with them…

They reached Willow and crouched down beside her behind the trees. "Do you have it? Did it work?" Willow said.

"Yup," Buffy said. "You're the best witch ever. It was even like the smoke knew to stay away from us, and just stick to the bad guys."

"You kick ass, girlfriend!" Faith said, and rubbed Willow's shoulder. "How much longer will it last?"

"That's the downside to this spell," Willow said, checking her watch. "Short duration. We've only got seconds of smoke left now and I can't recast it for at least a month. Apate doesn't like being bothered too often."

"Greek Goddess of Deception," Willow said. She peered out at the vampires. The smoke was clearing. "Um, looks like our time's up."

They peered out at the vampires and the priests. A few of the wolves were sniffing the ground, trying to catch their scent. The rest of them were foaming at the mouth like rabid dogs, snarling and growling and snapping at Bon Jovi and his pals, not allowing them to move. Bon Jovi and his pals apparently knew when they were overmatched. They stayed very still. "This is bullshit, man," Buffy and Faith heard Bon Jovi whining. The priests were busy scooping up the money that had scattered around the cemetery. The smoke was gone now; with the wolves and Bon Jovi's group, Buffy and Faith counted twenty-one vampires.

"We can maybe take these guys," Faith said. "We got room to move out here. If they head this way we gotta go at 'em, lead 'em away from Will."

"They're already coming," Buffy said, and pointed. Three of the wolves were moving on all fours, sniffing the ground and heading in their direction.

"Yeah," Buffy said. "We'll head left, opposite direction from where the car's gonna be. Will, you run right toward the entrance and meet Xander."

"Not up for debate, Will," Buffy said, and turned and looked at her. Willow knew what that look meant.

Faith handed Willow the Key. "Will, the Key is what matters," she said. "B and me, we're expendable. But we're countin' on you to get this Key back to Giles. If you and Xan Man gotta take off without us, that's what you do, got it?"

Buffy looked back at the vampires. "Those ugly ones, the ones that look kinda…" she said.

"Are you sure they're not…werewolves, maybe?" Willow said. "That's what I always thought a werewolf would look like, except they're not hairy."

"They're vamps," Faith said. "Maybe they look like wolves but they smell like vamps."

"Yeah," Buffy said. "The nose knows. And they're tougher than the others. Wherever they come from they're tougher than regular vamps."

"We should go straight at the wolves first, take out as many of them as we can," Faith said. "Gives us our best chance. Looks like they're the ones who want the Key anyway. Those other guys, I think they just want their money. Don't look like they're up for a scuffle."

"Dusted thirteen of K's goons," Faith said. "But they were regular vamps. I don't know what the hell's up with these wolf vamp guys."

The three wolves were coming closer, still sniffing the ground, and now three more had joined them, crawling in the dirt on all fours and growling. Bon Jovi and his pals were arguing with the priests, while the other six wolves stood by the priests, watching Bon Jovi and snarling.

"Here's our chance," Faith said. "They're divided. We run at these six, take them by surprise, dust as many as we can and head left. Once the rest of them come at us Will heads right." She turned and looked at Willow. "Got that, Will? Wait 'til all the vamps are on me and B. Then you run for it and keep low."

Buffy and Faith looked at each other. They felt the connection. They both felt warm.

"I hate this car," Xander said, holding a tire iron across his lap and wrestling with the clutch in Giles' Citroen DS and shoving the car into gear. The car lumbered and lurched along the dirt road outside the cemetery in fits and starts like a crotchety old man on his way to the toilet.

"You better not friggin' stall out on me, froggie," Xander said, as he gingerly maneuvered the car into the cemetery, trying his best to steer around the obstacle course of old tombstones that presented itself while trying to maintain speed. "Sure, I know you hate us, and we definitely hate you, but do you really want us all to die? Wait, don't answer that."

"Xander!" Xander heard, as Willow suddenly appeared out of the darkness to his left and ran up to the passenger side door. He screeched to a stop and Willow flung the door open and jumped in.

Buffy and Faith had managed to stake four of the wolves, but now the other eight had them surrounded, growling and snapping and slashing at them with their long claws. Bon Jovi and his pals were there too, standing with the priests. Buffy and Faith stood back to back, trying to hold the wolves off as the wolves snarled at them, looking for openings.

"If they don't have my Key you are in a world of trouble you cannot possibly imagine," the Priest of Wands said to Bon Jovi, as he eyed Buffy and Faith with contempt. "Women," he muttered. "They ruin everything…corrupt every single thing they touch."

A wolf sprang at Faith, going for her throat; Faith punched it in the face and sent it to the ground and kicked it away. There was no time to bend down and stake it; she had to keep her guard up. She knew if she let even one of these vampires get in under her guard she'd be in trouble. And she knew Buffy was counting on her to watch her back. The best she could do was hold them off. The only way to protect Buffy was to hold them off, and wait for Xander…

Buffy spun and kicked a wolf that came too close. He went flying backwards and hit the ground, but he got right back up again, snarling.

"These fuckers are pissin' me off," Faith said. Faith was growling, a little; Buffy could hear it, a low rumble coming up from the pit of Faith's stomach. Buffy knew Faith wanted to leap at the vampires like a lion, that she wanted to tear into them and feel their bones crack in her hands. She knew because she wanted the same thing: Buffy heard herself growling now, too. These strange, bestial new vampires were quicker and stronger than the ordinary variety. And they were like a wolf pack: individually they were no match for a Slayer, but in a group this large they posed a dire threat. And it was offensive for Buffy and Faith, to find themselves in this position: held at bay by these lesser predators, these worthless scavengers. Buffy snarled, and showed them her teeth. Their scent raised her hackles. Their scent made her want to spring at them, and rip their throats out. They were in her territory. They didn't belong.

"Kick ass and chew bubblegum," Xander said. "And we're all out of bubblegum." He stomped on the gas…

And he plowed into the wolves surrounding Buffy and Faith, running over four of them; they slammed into the car's fender and bounced up and over the roof. The Citroen was a tub but it was an old tub made of good sturdy metal and it could take punishment. Xander kept straight on, forcing the car to keep steady and running over some of Bon Jovi's pals next. Buffy and Faith had hit the dirt and rolled the moment the car had appeared and Bon Jovi and the priests had scattered out of the way. Xander spun the car around without stopping and floored it again and rammed into two more of the wolves who were about to spring at the car. Buffy and Faith were up now, running for the car. Xander hit the brakes and Willow threw the doors open.

"Hurry!" Xander shouted. Buffy dove into the back seat. Faith was right behind her…

Faith punched one of the wolves in the face, and he went flying, but now the rest were on her…she covered up and kicked out with her legs, trying to dislodge them, as they punched her in the face over and over again…

She heard something that sounded like an aluminum bat hitting a baseball and a vampire crouching above her was suddenly knocked to the ground. She looked up, and caught a glimpse of Xander swinging a tire iron. And then vampires were suddenly flying everywhere, and Faith saw Buffy standing above her, tossing vampires through the air like leaves in a hurricane…

"Xander, get back to the car!" Buffy shouted, and helped Faith up. Xander ran back to the car as Buffy and Faith stood in front of it and formed a line. But they both knew this was the wrong play. They needed to get out of there, but without buying themselves some time there was no way to even get back into the car; if they turned their backs on these vampires for even a second they knew they'd be eviscerated, and then Willow and Xander would be next. Bon Jovi and his friends had taken off, at least, but the wolves that Xander had run over were already back up; all eight surrounded Buffy and Faith now.

"We can take these guys!" Faith snarled, as she spun and kicked a vampire in the face and sent it flying.

"Maybe, maybe not," Buffy said, elbowing a vampire in the head and punching it in the face. "But we have to get the Key the hell out of…oh, my God."

Buffy and Faith suddenly saw more vampires running out of the crypt toward them, all wolves…there were dozens, scores of them…

"What the hell was that?" Faith said. A wolf tried to slash at her with its claws, but they stopped three feet away; they stopped as if there was an invisible wall blocking them. "What the…? What's goin' on?"

The rest of the vampires had reached them now; there were more than a hundred in front of them, slashing and clawing, growling and screaming and trying to get to them. But something stopped them…

"Energy shield," Willow said from behind them. Buffy and Faith turned and looked at her. She was sitting in the car, holding her arm out the window, aiming her hand in the direction of the vampires. Her hand was shaking, and the air seemed to distort around it…seemed to ripple, like waves. Willow's face was contorted as if she were in pain, and her nose was bleeding. "See? Just…need…a witch," she said, in a labored whisper.

Buffy and Faith leaped into the backseat of the car, as the vampires pounded at the energy shield, howling and shrieking and slavering like dogs, trying to claw their way through. Xander floored it, and they drove away.

"Holy shit," Faith said. "Are we really gonna make it out of this? Thought I was done for sure."

"Concen…tration…" Willow said, her eyes squeezed shut, her whole body shaking now. Her voice was tight, constricted. "Holding…holding it…"

"We've got some distance," Xander said, looking in the rearview mirror. No way they catch us now. Unless this piece of shit fucking car stalls and oh my God why did I say that am I the stupidest person in the world yup I think I am."

"No, no no," Xander said. "No no no you piece of fucking shit you're not stalling on me! Do you fucking hear me you stupid fucking car?!"

A little scream suddenly escaped Willow's lips; she sounded like she had just put down a heavy weight that she had been carrying for a long time. She leaned back against the seat, and a shudder went through her, and she stopped shaking. She was sweating, and gasping. Her breathing slowly returned to normal, as Buffy held her hand.

"You okay, baby?" Xander said, and wiped the blood away from Willow's nose, and caressed her cheek. Willow nodded, and leaned her head on his shoulder, and he put his arm around her.

Xander checked the rearview mirror again. The vampires were running after them, but they were too far away. The car was at the entrance now. Before he turned back onto the road, Xander leaned out the window and looked back at the vampires, and grinned.

"Hey assholes!" he shouted, and gave them all the finger, and giggled at them. "Fuck you too!"

Xander got the car back onto the road. "Well, that was invigorating," he said. "Who's up for pizza?"

"I come off the bench, I like to put points on the board," Xander said. He looked down at Willow. "How you doin' Will?"

"Duh," Willow said, and turned to Faith and smiled a sleepy little smile. "Where have you been?"

The four priests stood before the crypt, a throng of more than two-hundred vampires gathered about them.

"Scores of you. Scores!" the Priest of Wands shouted. "And you couldn't stop them?"

The vampires glared at him, but they remained still and silent, waiting on his words. The Priest of Pentacles, a frail-looking old man with white hair and glasses, moved his wrinkled, shaking hands slowly through the air in front of him.

"There was powerful magic here. I can still feel it," he said, in his faint, rasping voice.

"The Watchers Council is aware of us," the Priest of Swords said. "They've alerted their Slayers."

The Priest of Cups, a short, bald, barrel-chested old man, practically snarled. "If we could only kill that little bitch Rosenberg…" he said, spitting out the name like it left a bad taste in his mouth.

"Impossible," the Priest of Pentacles said. "The Powers That Be are protecting her now…no force we could bring could kill her."

"Aw," a voice said. "So now you're just gonna give up? Where's that get up and go spirit? That good old-fashioned stick-to-itiveness?"

Instantly, all of them, the priests and the vampires alike, knelt in front of her. Buffy smiled.

"You look good there. But it takes more than a few romantic gestures to win a girl's heart," she said, looking down at them. "So things get hard and you just give up? Did everyone suddenly wake up French today?"

"We haven't given up, most holy one," the Priest of Wands said, his eyes cast down to the dirt. "We…"

"Most high, the Powers have begun protecting the chosen one's life," the Priest of Pentacles said. "We only just today uncovered her name, but we were too late. The stars have aligned, and the Powers prevent her death now, until she performs the ritual."

"Powers, shmowers," Buffy said. "Earth to old guys? I'm the First. The original power. I'm like, totally more powerful than the Powers. And I'll overlook your lack of faith, and just this once not eat your eyeballs with a spoon. 'Cuz, well, eating eyeballs? Kinda gross…but I could eat your eyeballs. I could totally eat your eyeballs if you guys go all lame on me. And hey, entrails? I can do stuff with entrails you wouldn't believe. It's a whole big entrails thing."

"Yes, your worship," the Priest of Wands said. "We'll kill Rosenberg for you. We will find a way…"

"That's sweet," Buffy said. "But you can't get past the Powers alone, you're all just a bunch of tiny little insignificant mostly undead evolved monkeys. But I can guide you past them. There's a ceremony…a prayer. And it's a prayer to me, which makes it even cooler. Bring the witch to my shrine. And bring snacks too, the ceremony's a long one. Once it's complete my power will be manifest on this plane long enough for the Powers' hold to be broken. Then gut the bitch, and we can all experience that warm, fuzzy feeling that comes with the extermination of the world's last hope. And then we party! Can you say jello shots?"

"We are unfamiliar with this prayer, my lord," the Priest of Swords said. "Will you teach it to us?"

"Do I have to do everything for you guys? I mean, hello, all-powerful evil here. Do I look like I want to do homework? It's in the back of one of Pentacle Boy's magic books. My Bringers can help with the translation. Just find the damn prayer, okay? I got places I could be."

"Your grace," the Priest of Wands said. "The Key…we…don't have it. The Slayers took it…"

"All-knowing, remember?" Buffy said. "But hey, guess what? I just got back from spending some quality time with your supplier and it turns out that Key was a fake. It's just a brick with a glamour on top of it. I swear, dealing with evil people is such a pain in the ass. Double crossing weasels. But it throws the Slayers off our scent for awhile. While they have a fake Key you guys can quietly take the real one. Your supplier didn't get his money, so he'll be in touch. But watch him. He isn't always sure where he stands. Guy's totally pussy-whipped. But kind of a hottie though. In a gross, vampire sort of way."

"Thank you, your holiness," the Priest of Wands said. "We are truly blessed to be –"

"Yeah, yeah, keep it in your pants, Matlock," Buffy said. "Wanna make me happy? Get the Key, gut the fucking wicca whore and bring on the night. Then you can whisper sweet nothings in my ear all you want."

She walked back to the crypt, then turned at the entrance, and looked at them again. They were still kneeling.

"Absolutely not, your grace," the Priest of Swords said. "You are the image of perfection."

On their way back from the cemetery they stopped at a pizza place that was open late. There were amateurish murals of the canals of Venice covering the walls and little jukeboxes on all the tables, and someone's cat had managed to sneak in; she was a chocolate brown and white Siamese with big blue eyes and a collar with a little silver bell on it, and she padded from table to table, purring and begging for scraps. Faith and Buffy both gave her some pepperoni, and she licked their fingers and moved on to the next booth. Willow and Xander sat next to each other holding hands in the booth. Buffy and Faith sat across from them. Willow had put a quarter in the jukebox and they were all listening to an English lady Faith had never heard of.

"Miss Thang's got a pretty good racket goin'," Faith said, watching the cat moving among the booths and purring at all the customers. "Look at her, goin' on with her bad self."

They ate their pepperoni pizza and drank their Cokes, and Faith didn't feel as uncomfortable around Willow and Xander as she usually did. She knew part of it was that she had money now: she had smashed into a Coke machine the night before and come away with almost two-hundred dollars, fifty-four cans of Coke and thirty-one cans of Sprite. And even though they hadn't talked very much, the silence didn't feel so awkward this time.

Faith watched Willow and Xander. Willow still looked tired; that energy shield had apparently taken a hell of a lot out of her. Her eyes were closed, and her head swayed back and forth slightly as she listened to the strange English lady singing. Xander looked at Faith and grinned.

"She'll be okay," he said. "Some of her spells kinda throw her for a loop and she gets all tired and trancey. She just needs some food, then some rest."

"So. Energy shields, huh?" Buffy said. "Didn't know you could do energy shields."

"I've been practicing combat spells," Willow said. "Since…last month. No one's ever gonna do that to me again."

"Will," Buffy said. "I get that? I totally do, but…I worry about you. I worry about you out there."

"And aren't we allowed to worry about you too, Buff?" Xander said. "Friendship works both ways."

"I thought you said offensive and defensive spells were really super hard?" Buffy said. "Just a couple of months ago you said you thought you were a long ways away from something like an energy shield."

"I wasn't letting myself get angry," Willow said. "Before I was all, y'know, looking at it like a math problem. But magic's about feeling, and real powerful combat spells like energy shields, or fireballs or whatever, are all about willpower, and letting yourself feel things, even bad things. Anger, and fear, and hate. You have to let yourself feel that stuff, then move past it. I was always afraid to let myself feel that stuff, to really get down inside it."

"If you want to be a witch you can't be afraid of power," Willow said. "Having it, using it. That energy shield was built from my will."

"Y'know, it's weird?" Willow said. "I never really thought of my name like that before. I don't think it ever even really occurred to me. I always thought, y'know, Willow…pretty Willow tree. Willow the Wisp. Weeping Willow."

"Willpower's the first thing I thought of when you told me your name," Faith said.

"Okay, well…just take it slow for me, Will?" Buffy said. "Just…be careful for me? This stuff puts a lot of wear and tear on you and I worry. And there's a big difference between doing spells for me long-range from the library or Giles' house and doing spells with a hundred vampires like five feet away from you."

"Willow doesn't put up that shield, you and me are dead in that cemetery, B," Faith said. "No ifs, ands or buts. Maybe you don't want Will taking point but that doesn't mean you don't need her out there, y'know?"

"She's sensitive," Willow said, and closed her eyes again, as if she was about to fall asleep. "She doesn't dance. Whoa. Okay, need mocha cappuccino."

"Little fish big fish," Willow murmured, with her eyes closed, and took a bite of her pizza, and swayed.

"Nothing to be embarrassed about, B," Faith said. "It's pretty obvious the G-Man really cares about you. You're his girl, y'know?"

"He's all proper and British about it," Xander said. "But yeah. I think his favorite part is looking at you disapprovingly and frowning when you screw up."

"Yup, he's got that part totally down," Buffy said. "It's because I'm so intractable."

"A little over six weeks," Xander said. "Actually, we got together for the first time the day we all met you."

"Hey, you," Willow said, and suddenly opened her eyes, and smiled, and took Faith's hand. "I see you lookin' at me. You're my pal now, so you gotta, y'know, deal with all my trancey weirdness."

After Buffy dropped Xander and Willow off, she let the car idle in front of Xander's house, and looked out at the dark street, avoiding Faith's eyes.

Buffy didn't look at Faith on the way to the motel. She didn't say anything. They drove in silence for a minute, and then Buffy put the radio on.

When they got to the motel, Faith got out of the car, and smiled at Buffy. But Buffy still wouldn't look at her.

"Yeah. Whatever," Buffy said, and drove away, leaving Faith standing alone in the parking lot.

"It's me," Buffy said into the phone. She plopped down on the couch in the living room, kicked off her shoes, and put her feet up on the coffee table. The house felt different, without her mother there. It was strange, coming home late without her mother rushing downstairs in her nightgown to greet her, trying to pretend Buffy had just woken her up when it was obvious she'd been up all night worrying, and asking where Buffy had been and if she was okay, and if she wanted her to make some cocoa.

"Yup, got the Key," Buffy said. "We're okay, bumps and bruises. But there were these new vamps I've never seen before, and even worse, there were like more than a hundred of them. No, Willow put up an energy shield and we were able to get the hell outta dodge. And if it wasn't for Willow you would have been making tea for the next girl, because Faith and I would have been dead. Anyway, I'm tired, I'm just gonna sack out tonight, but I'll bring your car back tomorrow and you can look at the Key and we can hit research mode. Giles, these vamps…they're different. They worry me."

"Well…they look kinda like wolves…yeah. They have like, red eyes and pointy ears and these long noses like snouts…no, they're not werewolves, stop getting all excited. They're definitely vamps. They smell like vamps, and besides, Faith and I managed to stake some of them and stakes work just fine. But they're a lot tougher than regular vamps, faster and stronger. If they're planning on hanging around I need to know everything there is to know about them and I need to know it yesterday. Oh, and they all had these tattoos on their right hand. Looked like a snake like, in a circle? And it was eating its own tail…Will said it was…wait, I know this…an ooga-booga? Maybe an ooga-booga?"

"Oh, yeah, right, that's it, an ouroboros. Nope, sorry, there's nothing else. They look like wolves, they're strong and fast, ooga-booga tattoos, that's about it. Oh, and they're not snappy dressers. Their clothes are all like, ripped up and dirty and smelly? I think maybe K-Mart has a special outlet store where these guys are from. Can you believe one of them was actually wearing overalls with –"

Buffy lay in her bed, staring up at the ceiling, and trying to sleep. It wasn't going well.

There were little glow-in-the-dark stars covering the ceiling; Buffy had gone through an amateur scientist geek girl phase when she was eight and the little glow-in-the-dark stars always brought those days back to her. Her Dad had bought her a little telescope, and a chemistry set, and some books on dinosaurs, and the little glow-in-the-dark stars, and she and her Dad had spent an afternoon putting the stars up, in their house in L.A., getting the constellations just right…a long time ago. Before the Slayer…before he left.

When she and her Mom moved to Sunnydale, just after the divorce, Buffy had taken the glow-in-the-dark stars with her, and put them up in her new room, painstakingly getting all the constellations just right…

The stars were stupid, little-girly things. Every time Buffy looked at them she decided they needed to be taken down, and she wondered why she had never gotten around to it before. She thought about taking them down now.

She looked at the alarm clock. It was a little past one in the morning. She looked at the window. Moonlight was shining in.

Angelus had come in through that window once, when he was stalking her; he came into her house at night, and Willow's, before Willow found a way to magically revoke his invitations. He came into their houses, and sat by their beds, and drew pictures of them as they slept…

Angelus sat by Buffy's bed one clear, cold night much like this one, and watched her sleep, and drew her picture. Buffy knew he was there.

Buffy was the Slayer: a vampire couldn't enter her room without her knowing. Instantly, his scent had awakened her. But she kept her eyes closed, she didn't stir…and he drew her picture. She listened to herself breathe, and she heard the scratch of the pencil on the paper, and the wind rustling the curtains…

She had just lain there, breathing in his scent. It was a vampire's scent… and, even before he had lost his soul, it always had the same effect on her. At first, for a second, it would raise her hackles. Her first instinct was always to kill him. The Slayer in her wanted to kill him, every time she saw him. Then that instinct would go away, and the Slayer would reluctantly retreat back to her lair, grumbling and snarling…and Buffy would emerge, and know Angel for who and what he was. The man she loved. And then he became Angelus…

She had wondered why she was doing it, that night, even as she did it: why she was just lying there for Angelus, like some helpless, wounded prey…why she was leaving herself vulnerable to him, giving him a chance to kill her.

But when it was finally over…when Angelus was gone, banished to a hell dimension, and Buffy was alone, with the photos in the shoebox…then she knew.

But then, his hands had always been cold…whether he was Angelus or Angel, he was a vampire, and his hands were always cold.

Buffy looked up at the glow-in-the-dark stars. She decided she definitely needed to take them down. She would definitely take them down tomorrow.

The night was cold, and there were a lot of stars. The car was cold; the heater never had been reliable. The windshield was frosting up. Buffy drew a heart on it, with an arrow through it…or was it a stake?

The moon, a thin yellow crescent, hung low in the sky. Buffy looked at it. It looked like a cat's eye.

Buffy got out of the car, and knocked on Faith's door. There was no answer. She knocked again, loud. There was still no answer.

She tried the window. It was closed. It was too cold for even Faith to sleep with the window open. Buffy peeked in. A couple of the slats on the cheap blinds had broken off and through the gap they left she could see the room was empty. Faith wasn't lying in the unmade bed. She wasn't sitting in either of the rickety chairs. The bathroom light was off. For some reason there were about eighty cans of Coke and Sprite in a giant, carefully constructed pyramid in the corner, but Buffy wasn't particularly fazed by that. Faith was just goofy; she always said and did goofy things Buffy didn't understand. It was as if Faith existed at right angles to the world. Buffy had already made her peace with it.

Buffy stomped back to the car, flung the door open, got in and slammed the door behind her as hard as she dared. The car was this little French thing and a Slayer could dent it by looking at it the wrong way. And it had saved their lives tonight. She felt slightly less malice toward it than usual.

"Pain in my ass even when she's not here," Buffy grumbled, and decided to go home. She started the car up, got it in gear, and shut the car off.

Buffy opened her eyes. The sun was in them. She squinted, and saw Faith sitting next to her in her long leather coat.

"Egg mcmuffins," Faith said, and held up a big McDonald's bag. "What are you doing out here in the car? Is everything okay?"

"Uh-huh," Faith said, and looked at her. Faith hadn't taken her hand off her shoulder.

"It's cold. You're shivering," Faith said. She felt Buffy's forehead. "Well you're not sick at least," she said. She wrapped Evan's coat tightly around Buffy, like a blanket.

"Door was unlocked. Tell me you don't have the Key with you. Tell me you didn't bring it out with you and then fall asleep in some unlocked car."

"I told you, I was only here a few minutes," Buffy said. "And the Key's at my place. I gotta go." She started up the car, and started to take Evan's coat off.

"Buffy," Faith said, and touched Buffy's arm. "You wanna maybe…hang out a little? I got a whole mess of these mcmuffins…you hungry? We could…have breakfast together…y'know, if you want. If you don't mind hanging out with me."

"I never minded hanging out with you, Faith," Buffy said, finally looking at her. "Why do you always do that? Why do you think it's some kind of fucking chore for us all to be around you? So of course you blow us all off. Christ."

"I saw the big Coke pyramid through the window," Buffy said. "Are you gonna bury a tiny little Egyptian inside there?"

"Damn, B, you're on to me. I killed a two-inch tall Egyptian guy and I'm hidin' the body. Just don't tell the cops."

"What time is it, anyway?" Buffy said, standing in the middle of Faith's room and yawning, as Faith walked in with a bucket of ice. Buffy still had Faith's coat wrapped around her. The coat smelled like Faith, but there was another scent on it too, that Buffy didn't recognize. But she knew it was a man's scent.

"Got me. Still real early though, the sun just came up maybe an hour ago," Faith said, and dumped the ice out in the bathroom sink. She came back into the room, carefully pulled two cans of Coke and two cans of Sprite from the pyramid, and put them in the ice to chill. "Don't have a clock, remember?"

"Sheets are just gonna get all messy again anyway," Faith said. "I like not having to make the bed. Becca used to get on my ass about keeping my room clean. It's nice, just kickin' back with the messiness." She looked around the room. "Okay, actually, it's pretty lame. But, y'know, if it doesn't involve just a little bit of ass-kickin'? I'm a lazy kitty."

"You're still cold, honey," Faith said. She blew on Buffy's hands, and rubbed them until they were warm again. "Okay, that's better."

"Thanks…for the coat," Buffy said, and took Evan's coat off. "I'm warm enough now. Where's this go?" She looked around the room.

Buffy shook her head, found the closet, and hung up Evan's coat. Then she started making Faith's bed.

"You'd make a hell of a maid, B. We could maybe get you one of those sexy French maid outfits."

Buffy finished making the bed. Faith stood beside her, pulled a quarter from her pocket, and threw it at the bed. The quarter rolled around a little, and lay flat on the blanket.

"There it is," Faith said, and grinned back at her. "Been lookin' all over for that smile."

"These things are greasy and evil," Buffy said. "But damn if they're not tasty. There's a party in my mouth."

"Stuff that's bad for you tastes good," Faith said. "It's like a rule. You hear how Will's doin'? She okay?"

"Haven't talked to her since I dropped her off last night, but she should be fine. Will's tough. She's a tough undanceable British music-liking girl."

"Don't have to say it, it's all over your face. Xan Man sees it too. And I'm thinkin' he's not real happy about you feeling that way either."

"I just…worry. It's my job…okay, our job to do this stuff, not theirs. I'm supposed to protect my friends, not get them in deeper."

"Yeah? And what if we want to protect you too?" Faith said, and squeezed Buffy's hand.

"Giles wants to see us today," Buffy said. "He's planning on getting researchy and British about those vamps and the Key. Even though we have the Key we still have like a hundred of those new wolf vamp guys to worry about. I don't think we're out of the woods on this yet."

"Some big damn woods. I got no idea how we're supposed to go at those guys. There's just too many. Unless we can figure a way to pick 'em off a few at a time I don't know what the hell we can do."

"Giles will figure something out. He always does. He'll need to read a lot of old books made out of human skin and frown and bitch about computers and Americans and drink a certain amount of tea first. Plus he'll wipe his glasses at us a lot. But he'll come up with something we can use eventually."

"Maybe I'll tell him. Just to see how British he gets about it. I wonder if like, his head would explode."

"I'm so gonna tell him. I'm gonna be all, 'Hey Giles, Faith wants to get busy with you. She wants to be your strumpet. She wants to do totally improper things with you and completely be tarty.' He'll be all like, wiping his glasses…"
"You so better not tell him."

"I bet you think he's cute too," Faith said. "You're acting all innocent about it but…"

"Okay, gross," Buffy said, and giggled. "I can't think of Giles that way. He's like…he's Giles. He's all…I can't think of him that way."

"I guess…yeah. It's…weird and embarrassing but…I mean, ever since my Dad took off…I just…like having Giles around. I guess…he is kinda like a Dad to me. He's there. The thing about a Dad is…they're supposed to be there. They're supposed to hang in. They're not supposed to quit."

"Yeah," Faith said, and wondered who her father was. She had never even met him.

"It's cool, B. I get it. I had the same kinda thing with Becca. We were real close, Becca and me, y'know? She was like my Mom. She was the best Mom any girl could ever ask for."

"She was a little over forty, British, tall and blonde and pretty, with pretty blue eyes. She kinda always reminded me of Princess Di for some reason. She had kind of a…it was how she carried herself, I think. Strong, but like, not looking down on people. She found me and took me in when I was a potential, and I was with her almost a year after that. I was living on the street when she found me…I, uh, took off from my Mom's place when I was fifteen."

"Wow. She took on four vamps?"
"Hell yeah, B. Becca was hardcore. Fifth degree aikido black belt, remember? She took me in, trained me – weights, running, aikido, boxing, street fighting, weapons. Every day, serious workouts. But we hung out too. We were in this cool townhouse in the rich part of Boston, and it was just me and her in this big old house. So we hung out. And I could talk to her about stuff. She was funny, and smart as hell, and she sure didn't take any crap either. She said jump and I'd be like, 'Hey, sure Becca, and how high would you like me to jump today?'"

"You're like Giles' fantasy of the perfect Slayer," Buffy said, and laughed. "Giles would kill to have you. Kill to have you."

"I do, sometimes, but…I guess I just like making his life difficult. So just how British was Rebecca anyway? Was she Giles-level British? Was she British with a side-order of British and don't skimp on the British?"

"Yeah, but she had a different vibe than the G-Man. G-Man's all…know what it is? It's like the difference between Moms and Dads I think. Giles treats you the way a Dad treats his daughter. Becca treated me like, the way a Mom treats her daughter, y'know? Like, Giles lets you slide on stuff sometimes, but…"

"Yeah, I get that. Moms are stricter with girls than Dads are. Moms don't take crap from girls. My Mom sure doesn't anyway. If I was a guy Giles would probably be all kickin' my ass. He'd be all, 'Get back here and drop and give me twenty young man. And where's your tweed suit? Get that damn tweed suit on.'"

"Yeah, right? And Becca definitely didn't take shit from me. But I never dealt her much shit either. I liked her. We talked a lot…about history and stuff… about life, really. About whatever I wanted. She told me stories about Slayers and stuff…even told me about you."

"Sure. When I was a potential she told me all about Slayers. I never really thought I'd end up being one, but…so yeah, she told me about you."

"And you saved the world. She compared you to George Washington rallying the troops during the American Revolution once."

"Hey, really?" Buffy said, looking pleased with herself. "Cool. Maybe I can go ride around on a horse and be all, four score and seven years ago, when I kicked ass on all these vampires…"

"Washington didn't say that," Faith said. "It was Lincoln. Gettysburg Address. And hey, Becca calling you resourceful? Trust me B, that's high praise. Becca calls you resourceful, take it to the bank, baby. She never blew smoke. She gave a compliment, you knew you earned it. So yeah, anyway, like, we'd hang out. I liked her, I liked being around her. She took me places, movies and museums and ball games and stuff. She taught me about history and art and philosophy, got me into reading books, even gave me piano lessons. And she used to love going to ball games. We'd go to Celts games? And she'd be like, 'Yes! Capital slam dunk, Mr. Bias! In your face, Michael Jordan!'" Faith did a very good impression of Rebecca's English accent as she said that. They both laughed, and took another egg mcmuffin each. There were three left now.

"I always suspected you were secretly British," Buffy said. "I knew there had to be some reason you're all weirdly into Giles. I bet you like crumpets. I bet if McDonald's had like, ninety-nine cent crumpets you'd buy eleven of them."

"What's a scone? Giles mentions them sometimes. He says you can't find good ones in California."

"Biscuity kinda thing with a filling. Sunday mornings Becca and I drove out to a bakery she knew that was run by this old Scottish guy. I never understood a word he said but he could cook his butt off. We'd get scones and brownies and donuts and stuff. We did just a real quick workout on Sundays and then we'd rent movies after and eat pastry and just kinda pig out all day in front of the VCR."

"Yeah. Becca always…she always knew just what to say, just what to do, in every situation, y'know?" Faith said. "She was one of those people…one of those people who's just calm and in charge all the time, and you follow them, because you want to. You just always know everything's gonna be okay when you're with them."

"And then one day you became the Slayer. I bet she was just like, the proudest Mom in the world."

"Actually…that was a weird night. I came home, y'know, once I found out I was all super-strong…"

"Yeah so, I come home, it's like past midnight, Becca's asleep, and I run into her room and wake her up screaming about how I'm the Slayer. You know, she's chillin', catchin' some winks and suddenly this crazy girl is all in her face jumping up and down like, I'm the Slayer! I'm the Slayer! I bet she was probably all thinking, 'Damn, girl, can't you see I'm relaxin' here? What is it with you crazy American chicks?'"

"Yeah," Buffy said, and laughed. "I get that vibe from Giles about every thirty seconds."

"But y'know, Becca's all cool and British about it, upper lip all stiff, and we go up to the gym and bang, I'm benching like eight-hundred pounds. So Becca's like, damn, yup, okay, guess you're the Slayer. Becca poured us some champagne after that, and we drank a little, had a toast. Anyway, fast-forward a couple hours, I'm in bed, I'm asleep, and suddenly I hear a scream. I run upstairs…and I see Becca crying."

"She was worried about me. Turns out she didn't want me to be the Slayer…because Slayers don't live so long. She told me she just…wanted me to grow up and be happy. She didn't want me to have to deal with all the stuff you and me gotta deal with. She was crying because she didn't want me to ever die."

Faith nodded. Buffy could see Faith had tears in her eyes now. She took Faith's hand.

"Yeah," Faith said, and smiled, and wiped her tears away. "I really lucked out, running into her. From what Becca told me about the Watchers, they're not all on the ball, y'know?"

"British word for dumbass. Of course they can't just say 'dumbass'. That would be too easy. They have to British everything up."

"Shit. How many crazy-ass expressions do British people have anyway? Becca always said crazy stuff like that too. Becca's all like 'Bob's your uncle'. I'm like, 'He is? Who's this Bob guy?'"

"Yeah," Buffy said, laughing. "Giles said that to me once. I made him promise never to say it again. I think British people keep making up new crazy stuff to say just to annoy Americans. I wonder if Rebecca would have liked me. You think she would have liked me?"

"I think it would have been fun to watch you trying to get out of training. She'd be like, okay, time for aikido and you'd be like…"

"Sorry, heading out to the Bronze, don't wait up!" Buffy said, and giggled. "Bob's my uncle!"

"Yeah," Faith said, and laughed. "Like, immovable object? Meet irresistible force."

"Immovable object. But I'm thinkin' Becca would have moved you. I mean like, you give her too much shit? And then bang, here comes the tone."

"When she wanted to make sure I knew it was her way or the highway? Her voice got this tone. She never had to use it on me much, but whenever she did I was just all standing at attention, baby," Faith said, and smiled. "Would've been fun to watch, you and her."

"I can be pretty immovable, you know," Buffy said. "I can be Stonehenge immovable when I wanna be."

"Becca just…I mean she wouldn't nag or anything, y'know? It's just…she always gave me the feeling like she knew I could do so much stuff…stuff I never thought I could do. But she always just knew I could do it, like there was never a doubt in her mind. She always told me I was smart when I thought I was dumb. The only time she ever got pissed at me was this one time I said I was dumb."

"And like, books and museums, art and philosophy and stuff," Faith said. "Even piano lessons…it's like she just knew I could be a lot more than I was. She told me once I could do anything I wanted to do. She just…"

"Would she have…" Faith said, and sniffled, and tried to wipe her tears away. 'Would she have liked…liked you? Yeah…yeah. She would've…she would've liked you. She would've liked you a lot better than me. You wouldn't have let her die. You wouldn't have…" Faith started crying. "You wouldn't have."

Faith's shoulders started heaving. Buffy brought her closer. "You wouldn't have let her die, Buffy," Faith said. "You wouldn't have screwed up like I did! You wouldn't have let her die!"

"Faith…it wasn't your fault, baby," Buffy said, and stroked her hair. "There were…how many vamps did Kakistos have with him?"

"Him and Trick got there with eighteen," Faith said. "I wasn't there. I was, was a little angry with Becca 'cuz…there was this vamp the night before that Becca took me out to dust? A girl vamp, had, had a boyfriend who was a vamp too. Dusted the guy and, and then the girl came out and we fought and…she was… she was so sad when I killed her boyfriend. I didn't know vamps could be sad, y'know?" Faith said, and sniffled some more, and tried to wipe her tears away. "I didn't know vamps could like, love someone. I dusted the vamp…her name was Emily. I felt kinda bad about it and…Becca wanted me to come with her to the restaurant the next day but I didn't, I wouldn't go…I went out with Evan instead and Becca and her boyfriend were up against Kakistos and Trick and eighteen vamps by themselves. By the time I got there thirteen vamps were left, and everyone in the restaurant was dead and Becca…Becca was…"

Faith started to tremble. She breathed in quick little gasps, and she made a little wailing sound every time she exhaled.

"I showed up, 'cuz I felt bad, I didn't like feeling angry with Becca but I wasn't in time," Faith said. "I wasn't there and he…I wasn't there, y'know? I wasn't there when they started and…Becca was naked on the floor…she was naked on the floor. Kakistos had her naked on the floor and he…"

And then Buffy knew. She finally knew what really happened that night… what happened to Rebecca.

Faith's wailing got louder. Her nose began to run, and she was shaking all over now, like little earthquakes were going off inside her.

"Kakistos…he was too strong," Faith said. "I managed to, to, take out his guys but…but when I tried to stake him, he just shrugged it off, and…he kicked me out the window and…I ran back up but…Becca was…"

Faith was curled up into a little ball now, and she clutched at Buffy, held onto her with all the strength she had, strength enough to break bones. Buffy held her to her bosom, and rocked her. Tears ran down Faith's cheeks, and made Buffy's shirt damp. Faith's nose ran down over her lips and off her chin, and stuck to Buffy's hair. Buffy caressed her cheek.

"He raped her," Faith said, her voice breaking. "He raped her and he killed her."

Faith took in big, rasping lungfuls of air now, and screamed every time she exhaled…she screamed as Buffy held her to her bosom and rocked her.

"I loved her, Buffy," Faith said. "I loved her and she's dead because I wasn't good enough! She's dead because I wasn't good enough and it's all my fault!"

"It's my fault, my fault, she's gone and it's my fault…" Faith said, shaking her head back and forth as she repeated it.

"I'm always cold now. I'm always, I'm always out in the cold…it came in Buffy, it came in, it came in, and it won't leave! I'm alone in the cold, all the time…I'm all alone…"

"You're not alone. I'm right here for you, baby," Buffy said. "I'll always be right here."

"I'm cold," Faith whispered, as she wailed, and cried, and trembled…as she desperately clutched at Buffy, afraid to let go…afraid of the cold. Afraid she would always be cold.

Buffy opened her eyes. She was lying in bed. But it wasn't her bed. She was confused for a moment. The bed, the whole room, smelled like Faith.

Then she remembered. She was in Faith's motel room. She looked around. The sun was shining in; she wondered what time it was. She looked to her right, and saw the goofy giant pyramid of Coke and Sprite cans. She looked up, and saw the appalling orange and black painting on the wall. She looked to her left, and saw the photo of Gwendolyn on the nightstand.

She looked down, and saw Faith curled up asleep in a little ball against her, curled up in her arms with her head resting against her bosom.

Buffy smiled. Faith was just goofy; she always said and did goofy things Buffy didn't understand. It was as if Faith existed at right angles to the world.

"Remember about how I don't have a clock? But judging from the sun out there it's still early."

"Yeah, me too," Faith said, and yawned. "Need more sackin' out time. How come when one person yawns it makes you wanna yawn?"

"I don't know about everyone else in the world but I think you're doing it 'cuz you wanna be just like me 'cuz I'm great," Buffy said.

"Gotta be it," Faith said. "I need to get outta these clothes. Hard to sleep wearing this stuff." She sat up, and took off her clothes, stripping down to her underwear and socks. She got back into bed, back under the covers. But she kept her distance from Buffy; she didn't curl up against her. "This weird for you? Want me to throw on a nightgown?"

"You wanna kiss me," Faith said. "You so wanna kiss me. You'd pay a million bucks to kiss me. You'd kick Brad Pitt's ass to the curb to kiss me."

Buffy took Faith's hand, and brought her head to her bosom. She put her arms around her, and stroked her hair, and Faith snuggled up against her.

"Could you…maybe, uh…take your top off?" Faith said. "It's just…the pillows are better without a pillowcase."

"Sure," Buffy said, and smiled, and sat up and took off her blouse. "Might as well take the rest off too, easier to sleep without all this stuff on. Just don't get any ideas, pervo."

Buffy took off her skirt and kicked off her shoes, and sat up in the bed, in her bra and panties, and looked down at Faith. Buffy thought she should feel awkward about being with Faith like this, after everything that had happened recently…but she didn't. She felt just right.

"Sexy," Faith said. Faith's eyes were on Buffy, from the top of Buffy's head all the way down to her toes, as Buffy looked back at her…

Faith wanted to kiss her. She made herself think about Evan. But he seemed so far away now…like he didn't exist anymore.

Faith unhooked Buffy's bra. It was black and frilly and semi-transparent, with little lace roses; it was a sexy, slinky little trifle. Buffy looked good in it.

Buffy slid the bra off, and Faith suddenly jumped off the bed, and knelt down in front of her.

Faith hadn't meant to jump off the bed. She knew the Slayer had done it…that the Slayer wanted to get out. She was like a lion in a cage and she was pacing back and forth and growling behind the bars inside Faith's head now. Faith tried to keep her locked in. She tried to think about Evan.

Buffy's scent was sweet. Faith made herself think about Evan's scent instead. She liked Evan's scent…she just didn't like it as much as Buffy's.

"Curious about the lingerie," Faith said. "Wanted a closer look." Buffy's panties were the same frilly, black, semi-transparent stuff as the bra. Faith could see the shadowy hint of Buffy's pubic hair. "How come you wore this stuff?"

Buffy had bought the lingerie the month before…to wear for Faith. She had never gotten a chance to.

Saved by the bell, Faith thought. She climbed back onto the bed. They got back under the covers, and Buffy brought Faith's head back to her breasts, and put her arms around her. Faith snuggled up against her.

"My guy in Boston. He was the only guy who…the only guy who ever really talked to me. The only one who treated me like I wasn't just two holes. He DJ'ed at this dance club I liked. He made me laugh, and he was nice to me. Plus he was a complete fox too."

"Yeah. He was about 6'1", longish dark hair, kinda neat, good dresser. Real like, pretty face? Big brown eyes. Good lean body."

"We were just friends for a long time," Faith said. "I liked it that way. Been burned a lot by guys, y'know? And then the day we both knew we wanted to take it to the next level also just happened to be the day Kakistos decided to send his guys to be all chasin' us around and shooting at us. So, we didn't get to do anything…never even went on a date. But we told each other we love each other. We kissed. Then…I left."

"Yeah. K was onto me, I knew Ev would be dead if I stayed with him. But K's guys didn't get a good look at Ev, so I figured he'd be safe as long as I took off. So I came out here to warn you and lead K away from Boston."

"But Kakistos and Trick are dead. Why not go see Evan? I mean…if you love him…if you…don't want to stay with…stay in Sunnydale."

"I wanna see him, but…we're Slayers, B. It's too dangerous. Like, what you said about Will? That's how I am about Ev. I can't…I can't let him be a part of this. I can't ever risk him being hurt."

"They're different, they know the score. And hey, in case you weren't paying attention? Will's stronger than the both of us put together. She ever went bad, you really think there's jack shit we could do against energy shields and lightning bolts? And Xan Man, okay, he's basically a civilian but he's logged a lot of hours, he doesn't freak out about all this stuff. You ever taught him how to fight he'd be better off, but still. But Evan…I just couldn't ever risk it."

"Yeah, I get where you're coming from. So like, are you in the market for a new guy or what?"

"I don't know. I don't know…what I'm gonna do. I'll just…take it as it comes I guess. Figure it out as I go."

"You're warm, Faith," Buffy said, and caressed her cheek. "You're not cold, baby. You're warm."

She was lying curled up against Buffy's breasts. Buffy was asleep. Faith felt Buffy's heart beating, strong and steady beneath her.

"Hello?" Faith said, softly. She wondered what time it was. She looked at the window. The sun was low.

"Nah, you're fun when you're high. Bet you'd be a real trip if you ever smoked some weed. Okay, you're shitting me. No way. No way! Damn. You're just full of surprises, girl. No, actually…I never did. Go figure, huh?"

"Don't need to worry," Faith said, and looked down at Buffy, and touched her cheek. She watched Buffy's breasts moving, as she breathed. Her breasts were a little smaller than Faith's, but they were nicely shaped, and they were the perfect size, Faith knew, for cupping in her hands. Buffy's nipples and areolas were small too, and very light pink in color. Her torso was short; Buffy's height came from her long legs instead. Her stomach was flat as a board and her skin was soft and very pale, the color of cream. She had a mole near her belly button, and there was a fine layer of tiny, almost imperceptible blonde hairs dotting her lower abdomen. Faith couldn't see them right now, but she knew they were there; she'd had plenty of close-up views before. Buffy's nipples were erect now, for some reason; they were long when they were erect, like erasers. Buffy turned over on her side in her sleep, toward Faith. Faith put her arm around her, and brought Buffy's head down to rest on her breasts, and pulled the blanket over her. "She's here with me. Yeah, she's fine, she's just, uh, taking a nap right now. She was real beat when she got here. Yeah, car's here too, you can tell G-Man to chill. You guys tell him about the big-ass dents in the fender yet?"

"Yeah," Faith said, and laughed softly. "Might be a good idea to let Buffy break the news. She's his favorite. But hey, the thing still drives. Not like it was winning any style awards anyway."

"Okay, yeah, we'll meet you at G-Man's place. The Bronze? Sure, sounds like a party. Yup. See ya."

Buffy threw her arms around Faith, and cuddled up tighter against her. Faith held her, and just looked at her…just watched her sleep.

"Uh…cool dream," Faith said, only just realizing what she had said. "Was he hot?"

"Mmm…not sure?" Buffy said, and leaned her head against Faith's breasts again. "Think so. Mmm. Pillows. I like pillows too, y'know. Take this thing off," she murmured, and clumsily unhooked Faith's bra. "Want pillows."

Buffy kissed each of Faith's nipples, and rested her head on her breasts, and went back to sleep.

"You have bigger pillows than me," Buffy said, looking down at Faith's breasts under her cheek.

"Will called, G-Man wants us at his place. Y'know, like planning and research and stuff. And Will and Xander want us to go to the Bronze afterwards."

"We can do all that later," Buffy said, and pulled Faith toward her and snuggled up against her breasts again like a lazy cat. She ran her feet up and down Faith's ankles under the covers.

Buffy rolled over and looked at the window. The sun was very low; it would be setting soon. "When did that happen?" she said.

"We've been sackin' out a long time. Will called awhile ago. We're supposed to be at G-Man's place around now."

"Only sucking on them counts. If there's no tongue action I'm not being a pervo. And I'm like only a quarter awake so for all I know I'm dreaming all this. Leave me alone."

"Hey," Faith said, and took her hand, and brought her back down to her. "Wait up. So what did you want to talk about? Y'know, when I found you in the car? You said you wanted to talk to me."

"I just…" Buffy said, and rolled over on the bed, and looked away from her. "I was gonna ask you to stay with me again. To come move into my place. My Mom still wants you to, and…but you're just gonna say no and I don't want to fight so how about we just drop it, okay?"

"Fine. You want to embarrass me? Is that what this is about? I was there since 4:30 in the morning, okay?" Buffy said, and sat up. "I sat in the cold for like three hours waiting for you. Okay? Are you fucking happy now?"

"Hey," Faith said, and pulled her back down toward her again. But Buffy wouldn't look at her.

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to embarrass you. You're just…important to me, Buffy, that's all," Faith said. "I really…care about you a lot, y'know? I guess…I don't know, maybe I just wanted to know that…you care about me. If you…care about me like how I care about you? Does that make any –"

"You think I don't care?" Buffy shouted, and sat back up, and looked right at her. "How can you even say that?! How can you say I don't, I don't care about you when…when you're in this place and…"

"And…and all I do is worry?!" Buffy shouted. "How can you say I don't care when all I do is worry about you?! You're in this stupid shitty place and I think about you all the time and, and I don't know if…"

Buffy started to cry. Faith pulled her back down toward her again, and wiped the tears from her eyes.

"I'm afraid of what might happen to you and, and I don't know if you even have enough money to stay here! Or for food! And, and…" Buffy said…

She moved on top of Buffy, and kissed her a third time, and caressed her hair…and then she kissed Buffy's tears, kissed each one as it came, until they were gone.

"What are you doing now?" Buffy said, and sniffled, and managed a smile. "What weirdness are you doing to me now?"

"Yeah. Look, I don't know how we're gonna work it and there might be some rough patches or whatever but…yeah. I'll stay with you. When do you want me to move in?"

"There's a lot of leftover meat loaf. I just…needed someone to eat all the meat loaf, that's all. This was all just a big meat loaf thing."

Faith lay on top of her, and caressed her hair, and they looked in each other's eyes. Their breasts were touching. They felt their hearts beating together.

"I was just…I was worried about you," Buffy said. "I know we had that big fight last time I asked but…I've been worried. I don't want you here. I just want to know you've got food and…you're someplace warm and…you're not all alone. I don't want you to be alone. I'll just feel better if you're with me."

"Yeah. I get that now," Faith said. "It's just…I guess…I got a lot of pride, y'know? And it's hard getting past it sometimes. My pride kept me alive, back when I was on the street. And back on the street it always seemed like, no one does for you without you doin' for them. And…I don't like pity. I don't like feeling like people are pitying me. There's a difference between caring about someone and pitying them, B. One I want from you. The other I don't."

"I'm sorry, Faith," Buffy said. "About before. The fight in the mall, when I called you a thief. I didn't mean that."

"I know. Ancient history. I was never angry at you about that anyway, that was all my fault."

"Do you still want to…patrol separately from me? I don't…I don't think that's a good idea. I think we should stay together."

"Buffy…I'm sorry about that too," Faith said. "I didn't want to shut you out. It's just…with you leaving…I guess I was trying to make it easier on myself."

"How you're goin' away to school out of state and…y'know…I guess… how I'll be taking over as the Slayer here. It's okay, Buffy. I get it…you got a big future ahead of you. You get good grades, you're graduating soon, college is coming up…I understand, y'know? I'll be okay with it."

"Oh, my God," Buffy said, and sat up, and looked at her. "That's what it was. That's why…that's why you acted like…"

"You thought I was leaving," Buffy said. "You saw those stupid fucking college brochures, didn't you?"

"Oh, God…!" Buffy said, and took Faith in her arms, and hugged her. "Oh God, I almost lost you over…over a misunderstanding! Thanks, Mom." Buffy started to giggle. "Faith, you total goofball! Why didn't you tell me? Why couldn't you just talk to me?!"

"I'm not leaving!" Buffy shouted, laughing now, and kissing Faith over and over, covering her whole face with kisses. "I was never leaving! I'm not going to school out of state, I'm staying right here after graduation!"

"Baby, I only filled those applications out for all those schools to get my Mom off my back. I never intended to go to any of those places. I decided awhile back that I'm going to UC Sunnydale. I'm staying here, with you."

"But…your Mom…I heard her saying that…you could go away to school, and maybe I could stay in Sunnydale and like, be the Slayer here."

"Heard that, huh? And I bet you heard me sounding like I was agreeing with her too, right? That time you were over for dinner and my Mom and I were talking about it."

Buffy put her hands on Faith's shoulders, and looked her in the eyes, and smiled. "Oh God, baby…look," Buffy said. "My Mom, she worries about me, okay? She wants me to be career girl. She's my Mom, y'know? So I like, humor her sometimes because it's easier than having her nagging me about stuff forever. I always knew she and I would have to have the talk about how she thinks I should be going to like, Columbia or whatever and how UC Sunnydale isn't a good enough school, but I kinda wanted to put that talk off for as long as possible, so I just went along with what she was saying and filled out the applications for those schools but I already knew I'm going to be staying here."

"Maybe you shouldn't," Faith said. "I mean…I'd love it if you were here with me but Joyce is right. You're smart, Buffy, you've got your whole future ahead. You should go to one of those schools, you belong in one of those schools. If you stayed here for me, I'd feel like…I was holding you back."

"Decision's already made, baby," Buffy said, and kissed her. "I'm staying. But don't feel bad, it isn't just for you. I would've stayed in Sunnydale even if you weren't here."

"I'm the Slayer. I need to be here. And yeah, maybe I could've worked it out so I like, went to school out of state and came back for vacations or for emergencies, but y'know, ivy league schools? They're hard. There's a lot of work. I mean, I'll probably end up being waitlisted at all those schools anyway, I don't think my grades are really good enough to get in, and I know for a fact Harvard and Yale would never happen, those are pipedreams. But going to any one of those schools, the workload would just be too much, with having to be the Slayer at the same time. Being the Slayer has to come first. And if I'm saving the world I refuse to have too much homework."

"UC Sunnydale's a great school," Buffy said. "It's nationally recognized for a few different things, it's got a good rep. And it allows you to design your own curriculum, and the workload's a little lighter. It's the perfect school for me. And most of all, it's here…where I need to be. Where I want to be."

"I'm not leaving, baby," Buffy said. "I'm gonna be right here, doing the Slayer thing. I'm not gonna take off and leave you to handle everything alone. We'll handle it together, okay? From now on, anything life throws at us? We'll handle it together."

"Nope," Buffy said, and smiled, and kissed her again. "I'm gonna hang around to annoy you forever."

"There's one more thing, Buffy," Faith said. "We gotta play a game. It's a game I just now came up with, and it's called Confessions. The way it goes is, I confess some secret stuff to you, then you confess some secret stuff to me. The stuff I gotta confess…it's gonna piss you off. But it's gotta be done. If we're gonna go forward this stuff can't be between us. Are you ready?"

"The day I noticed those college brochures, it was when we were playing that other game I came up with…the one where I do stuff to prove I can be good?"

"Currently my favorite game. Though I really want a turn at being the bad girl next time."

"Don't like, try to get me all off track by seducing me, pervo. This is serious stuff. You're about to be pissed at me."

"So anyway I was downstairs making you a sandwich and I come back up and I hear you talking on the phone about someone giving you roses. So I hang out in the hall and listen. Getting pissed yet?"

"Not all of it," Faith said. "Let me finish, honey. So I hear you talking about how there's something you gotta go pick up and how you liked the roses and how he braided them in your hair. The thing is? Those brochures…they threw me. They got me thinking you had been planning on leaving all along and that I was like maybe…I don't know, like a fling to you, maybe. So I listened to your conversation, even though it wasn't right to do that. And when I came into the room you said you'd been talking to your bartender and I knew you were lying, that guy's not braiding flowers in your hair."

"Pissed at me yet? I followed you and I was on a roof watching when you kissed him and got in his black convertible."

"I wouldn't say I'm pissed at you. Maybe a little annoyed. I'm the one who lied to your face…who gave you a reason not to trust me. You followed me because I lied to you."

"Yeah. And the thing is…first the brochures, then the guy…it felt like it was all falling into place…I was sure I was just like, maybe your thing on the side or whatever before you went off to school. But then you get back a few hours later and you're all sad…I'd been planning on like, giving you the cold shoulder but…I couldn't leave you like that. I couldn't leave you like, feeling sad."

"That was uncomfortable, but it didn't make me pissed at you. You thought I was pissed at you about that, but I wasn't. I was pissed at me about that. No, the next thing that happened was, that's when I overheard Joyce talking about you taking off out of state for school and how I could maybe stay here and be the Slayer. And it was too much…I felt like, it would be too hard, seeing you. So I sorta tried to stay away. That was why I was all about patrolling separately and stuff. That was why I refused to stay at your place when you offered that first time…I just thought it would be too hard, seeing you every day. But…I just can't stay away from you, honey."

"But I need to know it's me and you," Faith said. "It can't be me and you and your guy. I won't share you with him."

"Yeah. He and I…we're not together, Faith, we haven't been for awhile. The kiss was just…look, I don't want to lie to you again. I love him and I always will. He was my first love and he's still important to me but he's out of the picture like, romantically. We only had sex once, and that was like, almost a year ago. We've kissed and stuff since then, but…we both know it's over. The thing with the roses…he took me out on a date a month ago. I think he wanted to give me one last, perfect night…it was his way of saying goodbye to me. And yeah, we kissed after that, the night you saw us, but it was just almost like…a goodbye kiss. We both knew it was over. He had info on the Glove of Mini-golf, that's really why we went out that night. And I kissed him but…it's over now, and I haven't kissed him since that night. And I'm not going to. I only wanna kiss you, baby."

"Sshhh, it's okay, honey, it's okay," Faith said, and hugged her. "We're good now, okay, honey? We're good."

"But now it's your turn, honey," Faith said, and held her. "You got a confession to make. And I know what it is, but you gotta say it."

"I know you're scared of it, Buffy," Faith said. "But you need to say it. You need to say the words, get them out there. I'm not gonna have a problem with it, I've known for awhile. But I want you to be my strong girl now, and say it. Can you do that for me? Even more important, can you do it for you?"

"I've…always sort of known, I guess," Buffy said. "I mean…I always thought girls were pretty. But I liked guys too, so I wasn't really sure…I didn't really get sure until the Glove of Mini-golf night. I just felt it then, when I was with Angel. It felt sorta like, 'Okay, I can't pretend anymore.' But…I don't want to be gay." Buffy started to cry again, and shook her head. "I don't want to."

"Why not, honey?" Faith said, and kissed her. "Why don't you want to be what you are?"

"I just…wanna be normal," Buffy said, sniffling, as Faith kissed her tears away. "All I ever wanted was to be a normal girl. And I was for awhile. In high school? I was popular and on the cheerleading squad and stuff. I was happy then. And then one day I'm the stupid fucking Slayer and my life is blown to hell. But I dealt with it, did my best to fit my life in around it. And now…and now this."

"I like being the Slayer. It's a cool gig. Savin' lives, dustin' vamps, plus y'know, when I'm real restless? Goin' on a hunt does me just right. Gives me that perfect feeling, y'know? That feeling in my stomach like the whole town, the whole world is my jungle and I'm the lion and all the vamps, they're the prey. And I know you get that feeling too Buffy, I've seen it in your eyes, I've smelled it on you, I've tasted it on you. I know you want it just like I do."

"When I'm on a hunt, sure…it's cool then. But…being the Slayer…it screws everything up. I mean, how can you have a relationship with someone when they're all threatened and freaked out by how strong you are? Or you have to worry about them because your enemies might come after them? Do you know how many times Xander and Willow have gotten kidnapped? Do you know how often I worry about them, just lay awake and worry?"

"Well Xander and Willow, they're in this because they love you, Buffy," Faith said, and kissed Buffy's hand again. "Yeah, maybe they get in trouble but they do their best, they try because they don't want you out there alone. They'd rather risk dying out there trying to have your back than dying a little at a time having to stay home and not be able to be there for you."

"Buffy, maybe you shouldn't think so much about how you think you got a raw deal, and start thinking about the good stuff," Faith said. "You got friends who care about you, who risk their asses for you. How many people can really say that? Plus you're pretty hot. You're a hot fabulous super-chick."

"As for the other thing…finding someone you can have a relationship with?" Faith said, and smiled. "That's a toughie. Let's see, first you'd need someone who you don't have to worry about having to protect all the time, so they'd need to be real strong…"

"And they'd have to be understanding about how I'm the Slayer and the weird hours I keep and like saving the world and stuff," Buffy said, and smiled.

"That's two," Faith said, counting off on her fingers. "Number three is, you're a hottie, so you need to be with another hottie."

"Know for sure I like one girl at least," Faith said, and kissed her. "I'm thinkin' maybe I'm Slayersexual."

"Slayersexual," Buffy said. "That's what you are. You're totally Slayersexual."

"We do?"
"Yeah. First me, then you. I've been a dick to Will and Xander. They've been non-stop nice to me, Will spent a lot of time hangin' with me and stuff, and I thought the worst of them. Xander, I thought he was just interested in getting into my pants…

"I still can't believe you never noticed they were dating. I mean, hello? They're like, making moony eyes at each other like, all the time. They're the most adorable couple ever."

"Know what it is? When you called me out and kicked my ass a little at your place, when I didn't wanna move in? You said I was so wrapped up in myself I can't see straight. You had me pegged, Buffy. You were right. Without Becca around to kick my ass I've been falling into some bad habits. I've been feeling bad for myself. If she was here she'd have the tone, I know she would. So I expected the worst from everyone and it's all I saw. And then, Will…I thought she was hanging with me just because she felt bad for me. I mean, she's real smart, y'know? Scary smart. I couldn't figure what she saw in me."

"Nah, I'm done with that. I'm standin' up again now. I want Becca to be proud of me again. I know she's disappointed in me right now and I gotta change that. So anyway, Will…I always thought it was her feeling bad for me but then, last night, when we were in the pizza place, it just hit me…she likes me. That's all it was. She just likes me and she wanted to hang."

"Um…not sure what you want me to confess. I used to have a crush on Corey Haim when I was seven."

"It's like you know everything," Buffy said, and smiled now. "Like you're Johnny Carson with that joke he does, reading the envelopes and wearing the turban. Am I that obvious?"

"Well you did kind of come right out and say it, when we were on our way to kill Kakistos," Faith said. "In the car, when you asked me if the vamps in the alley hurt Willow? And you cried when I told you, and you said you loved her. I know you probably thought I'd assume like, friend love, and maybe I would've, but you asked me why my scent had been on her the night before. You were jealous, honey. You were jealous of me maybe being with Willow."

"It's why we got off to such a bad start. In the cemetery. Not because of the two professor vamp guys. Because of Willow."

"And I see how you look at her, Buffy. It's in your eyes, honey. It's in your eyes that you love her."

"But Faith…it's not like, you're my second choice, okay?" Buffy said. "I realized a long time ago I can't have Will and I'm okay with it. Especially since Will's with Xander now. Some things are just meant to be, and some aren't. Will is meant to be with Xander, not me. Do you think…she knows?"

"Well she hasn't said anything to me, but she's perceptive," Faith said. "She might know. But I figure even if she does, she's cool with it. She loves you, Buffy. Not like that but she still loves you. She's taken a lot of hits for you."

"It's funny," Buffy said. "Will and me…if like, Will was gay? Like, if Willow suddenly woke up gay one day and I could have her? I bet it wouldn't work. I mean…we get along almost too well, y'know? Friendship and love don't always mix right."

"There's gotta be tension, there's gotta be a spark," Buffy said. "And, you and me…?"

"I need you, honey," Faith whispered, and touched Buffy's breasts. "I need you."

"Were you the one who called me beautiful before when we were in the bed, or did I dream it?" Buffy said.

"You're beautiful too," Buffy said. "You're the most beautiful girl in the world. You're my beautiful girl."

"Yeah, baby, you are," Buffy said, and trailed her lips behind Faith's ear, and along her neck, and inhaled her scent. "You smell like…you're mine. I don't know why…why I always feel like this around you…why I always feel so warm around you…but…every single thing about you is like you were made for me, how you feel, how you smell. It's like you belong to me."

"We're outlaws from now on, baby," Buffy said, and smiled, and laid Faith back on the bed.

"Sorry we're late," Buffy said, when Giles answered the door two hours later. "Um…how late are we?"

"You're extremely late," Giles said, frowning down at Buffy with his arms folded across his chest. "Come in."

"What time is it? Faith said, as she and Buffy walked into the living room. Willow and Xander were sitting on the couch drinking tea and reading.

"Um…past six," Willow said, looking up from The Necronomicon. "We… sorta thought you'd be here around four."

"We…um…found a few hiding out in this building near Faith's motel," Buffy said, sitting next to Faith. "Don't worry, they weren't the new wolf guys. Just your basic vamps."

"It took you two hours to dispatch a few vampires?" Giles said, and went into the kitchen.

"Uh, took a look around the whole, uh, area after that. Figured there might be a big group of 'em hidin' somewhere around there," Faith said, as Giles came back into the living room with a pot of tea and two cups on a tray. He sat on the recliner across from them and poured them each a cup.

"And there like, totally was," Buffy said, as Giles handed them both cups of tea. "A group, I mean. There was totally a group. A big group."

"Yup, real big group," Faith said, sipping her tea. "Whole bunch of vamps. Had to take our time like, doing recon on 'em? Y'know, figuring out how to go at them. Kinda took us awhile."

"Uh…like…" Faith looked at Buffy. "Maybe ten or so? Say about a dozen?" Faith said.

"Uh…okay," Xander said. "Goofy. Check. So what did you do? Eleven's kind of a lot."

Willow noticed how close Faith and Buffy were sitting to each other. Their legs were touching, and Faith was leaning on Buffy's shoulder a little. Buffy's arm was up over the top of the couch, behind Faith's neck. They were both wearing skirts. Willow had never seen Faith wearing a skirt before…and she could have sworn it was one of Buffy's.

"You burned a building down?" Giles said. "Buffy, that's extraordinarily dangerous, especially in that area. The buildings around there are practically nothing more than old shacks. A good fire could take half the neighborhood."

"Yeah," Buffy said. "It was like, this totally non-flammable concrete, um, like, factory type building. And there was this flaming barrel they were warming their hands over? Like, how homeless guys sometimes set a barrel on fire and sit around it? It was totally like that."

Buffy and Faith looked at each other, and they both started giggling like little girls.

"Those vamps were total berks!" Faith said, and she and Buffy both started laughing hysterically.

"Berks," Buffy said, and fell against Faith's shoulder, laughing so hard she could hardly breathe. "Complete berks."

"Should've seen the looks on their faces," Buffy said, catching her breath. "They were totally gormless. They were gormless berks."

"Uh…okay," Xander said. "Ladies and gentlemen, the comedy stylings of Miss Buffy Summers and Miss Faith Lehane. It's the Slayer variety hour, kids."

"Yes, it's quite enthralling listening to you both poke fun at my culture," Giles said. "Could we please get on with this now?"

"No need to get shirty," Buffy muttered, and she and Faith immediately started laughing hysterically again.

"Oh, crap!" Faith exclaimed suddenly, as if an airplane was about to crash into the house.

"I left that thing in the car," Faith said, and got up, and looked at Buffy. "Remember? You know, uh…that thing?"
"Oh, wow, really?" Buffy said, and stood up. "But you can't…do all that stuff without the thing."

"There's this thing I left in the car?" Faith said. "And I gotta uh…go look for it."

"Hey, I have an idea," Buffy said, as casually as a suicide bomber at a church bake sale. "How about I help you look for it? It'll be faster that way."

"Hey, thanks, that's a really good idea, B," Faith said, nodding her head and marveling at what a perfectly wonderful idea it was.

"What?" Xander said, as if a Kabuki performance had suddenly materialized in front of him. Buffy and Faith walked to the door.

"We'll be right back," Buffy said, looking at Giles, Willow and Xander very solemnly, as if she was about to undertake a secret mission that could affect national security, and possibly the fate of the free world.

"I can't believe we're mmmph," Buffy murmured, giggling and trying to stretch out in the very cramped backseat of the Citroen DS as Faith lay on top of her and smothered her lips with kisses whenever she tried to speak. One of Buffy's legs was up over the seat and the other one was balanced over Faith's shoulder and she felt like she was either back at cheerleader practice doing a split or lying on the examining table at a gynecologist's office. "You're crazy! How long do you think we can mmmph…before they wonder what we're mmmph?"

"Long enough to get you off, honey," Faith said, and caressed Buffy's legs. "I know just how to pet your pretty kitty."

Buffy grabbed Faith's ass and brought her closer, sliding her hands underneath Faith's skirt and pulling her panties down. Faith had a perfect little bubble butt and Buffy couldn't get enough of it; at the same time it made her insanely jealous.

"It's just for me," Buffy said. "If this ass can't be on my body then I'm the only one who gets to play with it. No one else can have this ass but me."

Buffy ran her fingers over Faith's soft skin down there, and began kissing Faith's neck, just below her ear.

Faith unbuttoned Buffy's blouse and kissed her breasts and her stomach, and then she shimmied her way down between Buffy's legs. She lifted Buffy's skirt. Buffy's legs were spread too wide for Faith to pull her panties down, so Faith tore them in two. Buffy gasped, and laughed.

"You realize I have to sit around Giles' house in a skirt without panties now?" Buffy said.

Buffy's legs were spread wide and the long, thick thigh muscles were flexed. Faith ran her hands over Buffy's thighs, and around her calves, down to her ankles and her feet. She felt the silky skin against her fingers, and let her senses reach out. She experienced every millimeter of Buffy's warm, supple flesh; the tiny goosebumps, the peaks and valleys of muscle, its scent. She could feel the blood flowing beneath Buffy's skin. She kissed her way down Buffy's muscular legs, and all the way back up again, back up between them. Buffy was wet…and Faith gave her a little kiss there, and looked up at her. Buffy's nipples were sticking up under her bra like soldiers at attention. Buffy's face was flushed.

"We…don't have time, baby," Buffy moaned, and caressed Faith's lips with her finger. "We can't stay out here forever."

"Wanna bet?" Faith said, and started licking her. Buffy looked down, and saw Faith's raised eyebrow looking back up at her from between her legs.

"Okay, I owe you five bucks," Buffy said, as they rang Giles' bell again. "But I'm getting you back later. Two minutes forty seconds this time."

"That you always kick out your legs when I make you come? And what's the thing we were supposed to be looking for?"

"Mr. Goodbar," Buffy said, as Willow opened the door. Willow grinned, and closed the door behind her, and took their hands.

"Giles is trying to find those dry, crumbly tea cookies, y'know, the ones we all hate, including him? And Xander's in the bathroom," Willow said. "So come out to the car with me for a minute."

Willow turned Buffy and Faith around and walked them back to the car. "I'll help you find that thing," she said.

"Keys," Willow said, and did the scowly face. Buffy handed her the keys because she knew the scowly face always meant business and Willow unlocked the front and back doors.

"Got nothin'," Faith said, shrugging her shoulders as she got in back with Buffy. Willow got in front and shut the doors.

"It broke in the cemetery last night," Buffy said, at the same time as Faith said, "Those vamps at the motel."

Willow giggled. "You guys are like a Saturday Night Live skit," she said. "I think it's called, 'The Two Most Obvious Lesbians Ever'."

"Look, sweeties," Willow said, and took their hands, and smiled. "I love you both, I think you're both awesome? And I'm happy for you. You're my friends and I'm happy you're both happy, it's obvious just looking at you. And if you wanna tell everyone you're a couple, hey, that's great too. But if you wanna, y'know, keep it a secret? And I'm not saying you should, I'm just saying, y'know, if that's what you want right now? Then, um, maybe you're gonna need to be just a tiny little bit less blatantly, incredibly, totally utterly obvious."

Willow giggled. "Please, please stop with the lame denials because I'm gonna burst out laughing if you keep it up and I laugh really loud and then Xander will come out here to see what the funny's about and we won't have time to talk, okay?" she said. "You're both my friends no matter what, I don't care if you like girls, all I care about is that you're both happy. I won't tell anyone, I promise. And let me just enter into evidence the following items. One," Willow said, and glanced at the seat cushions. Buffy and Faith followed her eyes. Buffy's panties were stuck there. "Someone's panties. And unless Giles has a spicy British trollop on the side I'm thinking they belong to one of you. Two, this car? Doesn't exactly smell like a car that two girls haven't had sex in, if you know what I mean."

Faith started giggling. Buffy's face got even redder, but she eventually joined her.

"Sure, sweetie," Willow said, and gave Buffy's hand a reassuring pat. "The car hardly smells like wild crazy hot girl sex at all. Wild crazy hot girl sex? Nope, uh-uh, none of that here."

"So look, your secret, if you want it to be a secret? Totally safe with me," Willow said. "I'm just really happy for you guys, that's all. I'm happy. Okay?"

"Xander? Love him to death, but he's not the sharpest tool in the shed," Willow said. "And Giles is probably too British to think about that stuff. But if you guys aren't a little more subtle they'll find out. I mean, hey, you guys? Slayers? All, like, super kick-butt amazons? Cool, but…not so much with the acting ability. And I'm now going to bring up the awkward fact that someone who, um, isn't me? Needs to get those panties out of the car."

"Nothing to be embarrassed about, Buffy. So what if you're just a big pervert," Willow said. Faith started giggling again.

"Aw, it's okay sweetie. You don't even wanna know the stuff Xander and I have done," Willow said. "In the car, at the Bronze, at the movies, on a canoe…"

"Ladies room," Willow said. "Remember how Xander was carrying that big shopping bag around?"

"Oh my God," Buffy said. "We're all perverts. All three of us are evil perverts."

"I'm happy for you guys," Willow said, and kissed both their cheeks. "Now come on, we better be getting back now that we found our canary feather."

"That's why you guys came out here, right?" Willow said, as they got out of the car. She pulled a feather from her purse. "To find this canary feather we need for the spell we're gonna do. It was under the seat."

"Okay, so these new vamps," Buffy said to Giles as she sat on the couch again next to Faith, Willow and Xander. "Tell me you've got something I can use. Like napalm."

Willow had just finished pretending to do a spell which involved waving the canary feather over all their heads and mumbling something in Latin. "Blessing spell," she had said, when she was done. "Protects against otherworldly manifestations zeroing in on any of our auras. Buffy told me she had a weird dream about leprechauns last night and I thought better safe than sorry. Um, not that we like, believe in leprechauns or anything? It's just, y'know, Buffy said they were the same little guys with the Irish accents as last time, so…um, anyway we should be leprechaun-free for at least a week." They were all drinking tea now.

"Those vampires were the Vigil of Saint Vigeous," Giles said, sitting in the squeaky leather recliner across from them, looking down at a musty old book in his lap and pretending to believe Willow's lie. Though he did think the canary feather was a nice touch.

"Saint Vigeous," Giles said. "Vigeous was a vampire who lived during the third century and tried to bring about the end of the world."

"He wasn't a saint, vampires call him that because Vigeous led a crusade through the Middle East. He massacred thousands, and became an inspirational figure to many vampires. It's said that vampires are more powerful on Vigeous' feast night, which is October 4th. The carnage Vigeous wreaked was so epic that his massacres have been commemorated by the more traditionalist vampire sects, including the Order of Aurelius, which you encountered last year, Buffy."

"Yes, Faith," Giles said, and smiled. "The Master was the head of the Order of Aurelius, until Buffy destroyed him. I see Rebecca kept you informed."

"Yeah," Faith said. "Once I became the Slayer Becca gave me like, a crash course on all the major vamp players, the ones B came up against plus all the rest. Y'know, like the Master, Kakistos, Dracula, Darla and Angelus, Spike and Drusilla. Actually Becca was planning on taking me out here eventually anyway. The Hellmouth's where the action is and she talked about how she wanted to start coordinating me and Buffy a little, at least when big stuff came down."

Buffy and Willow exchanged a look. Faith didn't know what was going on there but they both suddenly seemed tense.

"Sure," Faith said. "Becca was always on the ball. Gotta give you props, B," she added, and turned to Buffy, and squeezed her hand. "You've taken down some major bad guys. Stuff I hear about Angelus alone, he was…"

"Yeah," Buffy said, interrupting her. Faith could see she was even more uncomfortable now, and now Xander seemed tense too. What the hell? Faith thought. She looked back at Giles. He wasn't smiling anymore. Faith decided to take one more shot and then clam up for the night.

"You got a hell of a Slayer here, G-Man," Faith said, and smiled at Buffy. "Stories Becca told me? The bad guys B's taken down? I'm thinkin' you got maybe the best Slayer there ever was. You should be proud." Faith noticed Willow and Xander smiling out of the corner of her eye.

"Are you trying to make me blush?" Buffy said, and smiled at Faith. "And you're not so bad yourself, Faith."

"Am I impressive?" Buffy said. "Giles, call me impressive. Come on. Just this once."

"Yes, Faith, she is a hell of a Slayer," Giles said. "And yes, Buffy, you're very impressive."

"But perky. And intractable," Buffy said. "Okay, you can all stop making me blush now."

"Yes, well…moving on," Giles said. Watching over one Slayer was difficult enough; having two to look after definitely wasn't covered in the Watcher's Handbook and there was no established protocol. Giles hadn't read the Handbook from front to back but he was also fairly certain that there was no established protocol for looking after two Slayers who were engaged in a passionate lesbian affair either, and he wasn't sure what the proper etiquette was. He decided to wipe his glasses. "As I was saying, the traditional vampire sects, such as the Order of Aurelius, venerate Vigeous, but they aren't part of his cult," he said, wiping his glasses until they sparkled. He placed his book on the coffee table, facing them; the pages were brown, crumbling parchment. It was turned to an illustration of a vampire with a tattoo on his right hand.

"That's the right tat," Faith said. "But the rest is wrong. Our guys have pointy ears, snouts and red eyes. That just looks like a regular vamp."

"Over the years a cult grew up around Vigeous," Giles said. "That illustration depicts one of the original members. The vampires you fought would be descendants of that original cult; the tattoos alone prove that. But you must remember that this cult, which now calls itself the Vigil of Saint Vigeous, has existed for at least fifteen hundred years. The original members are all long-dead, but many of the surviving members of the Vigil are very old, even ancient."

"These vampires have as well," Giles said. "But their age doesn't explain it all; the uniformity of their mutations makes no sense. Every vampire mutates differently as it ages. These wolf characteristics have to be the result of some kind of ongoing, conscious effort."

"That's what I was thinking, though there's no clue what sort, beyond vague references to sacrifices made to Fenrir," Giles said.

"Yes, and there's a good argument to be made that the serpent depicted in the tattoos, though ostensibly an ouroboros, is actually an image of Jormungand. And Vigeous himself was of northern European ancestry."

"Jormungand, Fenrir…maybe there really is a Norse gods connection here," Willow said. "Wow. That's really fascinating."

"Okay, I haven't understood anything anyone's said for the past minute," Xander said.

"I can't think of any funny words to confuse 'Jormungand' with," Buffy said. "So I'm gonna just sit here and wait for Willow to explain it all."

"Okay, we're getting off track, but Jormungand and Fenrir are creatures of Norse mythology," Willow said. "You know, the Norse gods? Thor, Odin?"

"The Norse gods are a pantheon sorta like the Greek gods…you know, Zeus, Apollo, Aphrodite, Athena," Willow said. "Except the Norse gods are the gods that the Vikings believed in. Anyway their version of, sorta the devil was this guy named Loki, and he had three kids. Jormungand and Fenrir were two of them. Fenrir was –"

"You never pay half as much attention when I'm pointlessly lecturing you about long-forgotten ancient deities," Giles muttered.

"Okay, so basically Fenrir was the wolf god and Jormungand was a huge sea serpent," Willow said. "So big and huge that he encircles the whole world."

"Yeah," Willow said. "At the end of the world Jormungand is supposed to rise up out of the oceans and poison the sky, and everything becomes darkness. But then Thor kills him."

"Thor rocks," Xander said. "I don't care what anyone says, he can totally kick Superman's butt. Thor has magic. Superman's vulnerable to magic."

"Sure, sweetie," Willow said, and rubbed Xander's shoulder. "Anyway Thor's the god of thunder and lightning and he carries a big hammer, so, yeah. He rocks, in a big, like, smiting his enemies with a big hammer way. I prayed to him once. He was pretty cool. Big burly guy, red beard, and, y'know, big hammer."

"That's comic book Thor, sweetie," Willow said. "So anyway, okay, I prayed to Thor and we hung out a little. We went fishing on his boat and talked about Bjork."

"Not physically," Willow said. "I was meditating and my mind reached out to the astral plane and he was there, so I prayed to him for help with this thing? So he took me on his boat and we hung out. You know, um, astrally."

"Yeah, he took me sailing in this Viking longship carved like a dragon," Willow said. "He introduced me to a frost giant and a few goblins, it was cool."

"Just these big ugly giant ice guys," Willow said. "Thor just wanted to show off for me. He was all, 'Hey want me to, y'know, kick this frost giant's butt for you Willow?' So he kicks the frost giant's butt and then he's all like, 'Hey Willow check this out', and he's like, lifting up a mountain and stuff. So yeah, we hung out, it was fun."

"Well…um…there was this test I wanted more time to study for so I asked Thor to make it snow," Willow said. "Everyone thinks he just does lightning and thunder. But he likes a good snowstorm too. He's a weather god. He was really psyched that I wasn't just asking him for lightning like everyone else does."

"Are you telling me that you asked Thor, the Norse god of thunder, to make it snow so you could get out of a test?" Giles said.

"Sure," Willow said. "Thor doesn't really get the whole concept of school. He told me he'd destroy the high school with a big ol' lightning bolt if I wanted him to. I think he likes me. It's probably the red hair. Plus we both like Bjork."

"Well, she's from Iceland, and Thor likes Iceland. Used to be a lot of Vikings there. He says he's glad, um, that a nice girl from Iceland's all famous now and getting a lot of attention…" Willow looked at Buffy, who was holding her head in her hands and giggling now. Willow started giggling too. "Anyway, then Thor asked me on a date," Willow managed to say. "He was like, 'C'mon, Willow, I'll take you to Newfoundland. Newfoundland's awesome.' And I was like, 'Okay Thor, but I gotta be home by eleven 'cuz I got this test' and Thor's like, 'Hello? Totally doing that snowstorm for you tomorrow, remember? Not gonna be a test', and I was like, 'Oh yeah, cool.' So anyway we sailed out to Newfoundland that night and we were like holding hands on his boat. We drank mead. It was all really romantic."

"It was last year," Willow said. "You and I weren't a couple then. And yeah, okay, Thor and I kissed? But it was only one kiss and there wasn't any… well, there wasn't much…I mean, Thor's a pretty good-looking guy…but, um, y'know…I mean it was only our first date."

"You…asked Thor…Thor…to…create a snowstorm to get you out of a test?" Giles said, bewildered. "That's…absolutely…and he actually did…?"

Willow burst out laughing too. "But I had them going!" she said, and pointed at Giles, Xander and Faith. "Look at their faces!"

"You shouldn't have said anything Buffy, I was gonna talk all about our second date next. Y'know, just Thor and me and his big hammer," Willow added, looking devilishly at Xander.

"Okay, here's what's gonna happen to you later tonight," Xander said, and whispered something in Willow's ear. Willow gasped and started giggling.

"Yes, well that was a pleasant diversion," Giles said, and wiped his glasses at everyone. "Perhaps we can return to the world ending now."

"Okay Will, you got me fair and square, but I'm just gonna say in my defense? You like, prayed to some Greek goddess to do that smoke spell yesterday. Plus you did kinda throw a lightning bolt last month," Faith said. "Who knows, maybe Thor digs you after all."

"Okay, that does it!" Xander said, and grabbed Willow around the waist and started tickling her.

"Okay, I'm afraid I'm gonna have to ask for order in the court now," Buffy said. "Mostly because I want to get to the Bronze, but also because Giles just hit heavy glasses-wiping mode. I can hear the things squeaking."

"Can I just say how it's weird and scary that like, every single god anyone ever believed in, ever, really seems to exist?" Xander said.

"Okay, so what's Fenrir do?" Xander said. "And if I don't believe in him will he go away?"

"He helps destroy the world during Ragnarok," Willow said. "And enough Vikings believed in him way back when that he's not going away anytime soon."

"Wait, why would some big wolf god wanna destroy the world during Fraggle Rock?" Buffy said. "Is it even still on the air?"

"Ragnarok, sweetie," Willow said. "Norse term for the end of the world. But we're getting off-track here."

"Yeah," Faith said. "Doesn't matter much how these vamps got all bad ass, we need to know how to fight them. They got any weaknesses?"

"They have the standard weaknesses," Giles said. "Stakes, beheading and sunlight are all effective. But these vampires are faster and stronger than what you're used to. Now a Slayer is stronger than any normal vampire, and you're both stronger than these vampires as well. But not by nearly as much, and from what I've read their speed, at least, is a match for yours."

"Great," Faith said, as Giles got up and walked to the rocking chair. A crate sat on top of it. He opened it up and pulled out two swords in scabbards.

"So you'll need to change tactics," Giles said, and handed the swords to Buffy and Faith. They pulled them from their scabbards and turned them over in their hands. They looked like the katanas they had used before, only shorter. But no less deadly. "Not only are these vampires stronger and faster than you're used to but there are simply too many of them to fight hand-to-hand; you need weapons. These are wakizashi. They're one-handed blades the Japanese used specifically for beheading defeated opponents. Your best tactic is the wakizashi in one hand and your stake in the other, and that's what I expect you to do."

"Swords are cool but they won't be much help against a hundred of those wolf vamps," Faith said. "They come at us in force and it's game over."

"And we have other problems," Xander said. "There were those four old priest guys, plus those regular vampires who delivered the Key in the first place. We've got three groups of bad guys here at least."

"About the priests, I haven't been able to find anything whatsoever," Giles said. "For all we know they may actually be priests – defrocked priests, one would hope – or they may simply dress the part. As for those vampires who delivered the Key, I would think our usual sources would be of more use than my books."
"Looks like I'm paying a visit to Willy," Buffy said. "It's been awhile since I beat him up anyway. He's probably feeling all lonely and neglected."

"When you two go out tonight, I want you to take these swords with you," Giles said. "In fact, from this moment on I want you to carry them on your person at all times. You encountered over a hundred of those vampires last night and for all we know there could be many more."

"Wear the swords all the time?" Faith said. "How do we do that? I mean, without getting arrested?"

"No," Giles said. "I chose these specifically because they're the smallest weapons in my arsenal that can be used effectively for beheading."

"If you're planning on staying home and watching television during the day, certainly," Giles said. "If you step one foot outside you'll be wearing one of these swords, day or night, and that's the end of it."

Hot damn, Faith thought. Giles has a tone. But it still didn't make her sit up straight like Rebecca's did.

"What about the Horsemen?" Buffy said. "I know we have the Key now, but…what if there's some other way to free them?"

"There isn't, thankfully," Giles said. "And as for the Horsemen themselves, there really isn't much in the literature. Just hints and rumors, and fragments of legend. Though I was able to find out more about the Key. It seems that merely possessing it isn't enough. There's a ritual that has to be performed…"

"There's always a ritual," Buffy said. "Can't they just say abra-kadabra for once? I mean, hello, Slayer here. Do I look like I want to do homework?" "What kind of ritual?" Willow said, perking up at the idea.

A summoning ritual," Giles said. "Though there's no clue what sort. It could be extremely elaborate, or as simple as saying a few words. But it must be performed above a Hellmouth, at sunset, on the last day of the waning moon."

"It's the last day that part of the moon is visible before the new moon," Giles said. "When the moon is in the new phase its illuminated half faces directly toward the sun and away from us; from the Earth the new moon is invisible. The last day of the waning moon would be the seventeenth, three days from now."

"The question is, now that we have the Key, what move will they make?" Buffy said. "Are they gonna hang around and try to get it back? There's gonna be another day before the new moon every month forever. Can we destroy the Key?"

"No," Giles said. "The Key can't be damaged by any physical means. My sources are all quite clear on that."

"We hide it," Faith said. "The thing's a little rock. We get it out of town, lock it up somewhere. Hell, dump it in a rock quarry, or the middle of the ocean. They'd never find it again."

"Maybe," Willow said. "The Key is magical, it should leave vibrations, an energy trail. Whether the bad guys can pick that trail up…I don't know."

"If there's a way for them to find the Key our only other choice is take these Vigil guys out," Faith said. "If we can't keep the Key away from them we gotta keep them away from the Key."

"For now let's not do anything reckless," Giles said. "I'll keep digging, and I'll see if the Council knows anything that might help. There's a book the Council archives has just acquired that may shed some light on some of this; they're sending it to me now. You two will wear those swords at all times, and –"

"Never was much for swords," Buffy said, getting up. "Clashes with my outfit anyway. I mean, what, I'm gonna wear a scabbard on my skirt? Tell you what, I'll bring it with me if we ever decide to go back to that crypt in the –"

"We'll be…um…out at the car," Willow said. She took Xander's hand. "Come on, Faith," she said.

"Yeah…okay," Faith said, and took her sword, and rubbed Buffy's shoulder, and followed them out.

A few seconds later, Buffy and Giles were alone. Giles walked away from her, and looked at the hat rack.

Twenty minutes later, Buffy came out to the car, carrying her sword. Faith opened the door, and Buffy climbed into the backseat next to her.

"Yeah," Buffy said. "Giles was right and I was wrong. Faith, you and I are gonna carry these swords from now on, okay? Whenever we leave the house, day or night, we're gonna have these with us. Okay?"

"Yeah, okay," Faith said, holding up her sword and looking at it. "Kind of a pain in the ass, but…I guess it'll go all right under my leather coat."

"Since I can't smack Giles I guess I'll have to settle for Willy," Buffy said. Xander chuckled, started up the car, and pulled away.

"Buffy…Giles just cares about you, that's all," Willow said, turning around in the front seat and taking Buffy's hand. "He doesn't want to see you hurt. None of us do. If you kept on being all, y'know, stubborn about wearing the sword? I was ready to go all scowly," she said, and did her scowly face.

"I thought we were going to visit Willy?" Xander said, as he pulled up in front of the Bronze.

"I've got it," Buffy said. "I'll swing by the bar, kill a few demons, beat on him a little and be back to meet you here in an hour. No reason for all of us to have to deal with the stench."

"Works for me," Xander said, and got out of the car with Willow and handed Buffy the keys. "Because, demons? Smelly." Buffy got in the front seat and took the wheel. Faith opened the passenger side door and got in beside her, but Buffy shook her head.

"I got this, Faith," Buffy said. "With everything going on, I don't want Will and Xander out alone. Can you just hang with them until I get back? I'll feel a lot better if I know you're with them."

Faith noticed Willow and Xander looking at her hopefully, but guardedly. She'd done nothing but ignore them and blow them off, since she arrived… nothing but think the worst of them, when all they had ever done was try to be her friends…because they liked her.

Faith still wasn't sure why they liked her. She wasn't sure why anyone would like her.

"Okay," Faith said, and smiled, and put her arms around Willow and Xander. "Sounds like a party. I'll try to keep these crazy kids outta trouble. That Fenrir dude shows up I'll tell him to get lost."

Willow giggled. "Yeah," she said. "But if Thor shows up, be nice to him. He's kinda cute. Plus, y'know, with the hammer."

The Bronze still wasn't very impressive. It still didn't have a hot DJ spinning fast tunes, and tonight the music was even worse: instead of being merely boring the band was actively annoying and very, very loud. The incessant, crunching whine of their guitars pounded Faith's ears like a mallet. The bands that played the Bronze were usually alternative trending toward folky; the guys with the dreadlocks onstage obviously hadn't gotten the memo. Faith missed that band with the four skanky girls, and the British lead singer with the attitude problem.

Faith sat on a couch with Willow and Xander, drinking a Coke while Xander was finishing off a beer and Willow had her ever-present mocha cappuccino, and as she tuned out the music and listened to Willow and Xander giggling about something Cordelia did when they were all in grammar school, she waited for her eyes to adjust to the darkness, and got the lay of the land.

The place was still definitely a dump, but it was still the only game in town too and it was packed. The dance floor was getting a workout now as kids tried, unsuccessfully, to dance to the thrash metal, or whatever it was, that kept booming through the room. Faith could only assume they were all very drunk. But there was a good number of cute guys among them, and Faith watched the cute guys dance and carefully noted which ones knew how to shake their butts, and for just a moment, out of habit, she started thinking about which ones she'd dance at first, if the band ever played one single even remotely danceable song.

But then she knew that she didn't want to dance at them. The guys still looked good to her…but she wanted to dance with Buffy.

"So then Cordy goes, 'As if! I'm so much more fabulous than you, I'm the damn Mayor of Fabulous Town, bitch!' Willow screamed, and laughed into Faith's shoulder. Xander laughed so hard beer shot out his nose.

"Yeah, Cordy was just so cute in fourth grade," Xander said, after he cleaned himself up.

"Shit," Faith said, giggling. "Maybe I really should've staked her. Want me to stake her, Will? I'll stake her if you want me to."

"Nah," Willow said. "Cordy's evil, but she's the devil we know. It would be weird, if she went away. It's kinda like how the world got all weird when the Soviet Union almost collapsed a couple years ago. It's good that it didn't, it's just weirdly comforting to have it around. Cordy's our Soviet Union. She maintains the balance of power and without her there'd be a bunch of breakaway evil republics we'd have to chase around. Besides…I always thought she could maybe be nice someday…if she ever, y'know, got in with a different crowd, maybe?"

"Yeah," Xander said. "I always thought she'd be a cool addition to our little gang."

"Seriously?" Willow said. "You mean like, with us, fighting vampires? What would she do?"

"Thanks, but…come on," Xander said. "We all know I'm just here for moral support and to fetch donuts. You, Buffy, Will and Giles…you're the gang. I'm like…the gang's mascot."

"Of course you are," Willow said, and put her hand on Faith's shoulder. "You're totally in our gang."

"But, okay, um…Cordy? Not so much," Willow said. "I mean, unless we fought some demon whose secret weakness is getting bitched out? I'm thinking Cordy's a useless, fabulous appendage. Maybe there's some alternate universe out there where Cordy's part of the gang. But it's probably a weird, bad universe."

"I bet she has a crush on me in that universe," Xander said. "Seriously, not kidding? I swear I've caught her checking me out before."

"Seriously!" Xander said. "Cordy was checking out my package when I joined the swim team last year to spy on the lizard guys."

"Sure, sweetie," Willow said, and rubbed his shoulder. "There's a universe out there where Cordy's your girlfriend. There's a universe out there where you kiss Cordy all the time."

"Well anyway, getting back to Cordy, yeah, sure, she's a useless appendage, but I'm a useless appendage too," Xander said. "And I don't even have fabulousness to work with."

"Stop saying that!" Willow said, and pinched Xander's leg. "You do a lot of stuff! There are a lot of good things about you that –"

"You want the real 411, Xan Man?" Faith said. "You want me to say what I really think? I'm a Slayer, I'm out there in the trenches, I'm a professional damn ass-kicker. So you wanna know what a Slayer thinks about you? About how useful you really are in the field? Not blowin' smoke and not tryin' to save your feelings like Buffy would? You want the honest truth? Yes or no. One-time deal."

"Yeah," Xander said. "The honest truth, Faith. Because yeah, I know Buffy won't tell me. And I need to know. All of it."

"You can't fight and you need to learn," Faith said. "That's a problem, but one you can fix. Get serious about fighting, have Buffy or me teach you? We'll have you up to speed in six months. You're in decent shape, you'd need to get in a little better shape but you're not fat or nothin', you got a good body. And sure, you'll never be super-strong but you'll be able to handle yourself. You'll need to learn a weapon. A sword or an axe, something for beheading. I can teach you weapons, Becca and I did a lot of weapon stuff. You were good with that tire iron last night. But until you learn how to fight you're gonna be a liability in the field."

"B doesn't like you in the field because she loves you like a brother and it would kill her if anything ever happened to you," Faith said. "And she's right, Xander. You can't fight and one of these days it's gonna get you killed out there. But you can learn. I can teach you, Buffy can teach you. You wanna have her back? Wanna do your part to protect B, and protect Will too? Learn to fight."

"Yeah," Faith said. "But I'm tellin' you up front baby, it'll be tough. I don't screw around. I'll teach you the way Becca taught me and you quit on me even once? I'm serious Xan Man, we're done. And it won't just be fighting. You need to get stronger first. Running, weights. And I mean it, don't test me. If you can't stick to this don't even waste my time."

"Good," Faith said, and put her hand on his shoulder. "And you know what? You already got the most important thing down, you already got the one thing that separates you out from ninety-nine percent of the people in the world."

"Balls," Faith said. "Nice, big ones. I've watched you, I've seen how you got our backs. Strength and endurance and skill can be trained. But balls can't."

"I think this is gonna be the beginning of a beautiful friendship," Xander said, and took Faith's hand.

"We'll see if you think that after your first workout," Faith said. "Becca used to kick my ass all the time, it'll be fun to kick someone else's ass. I'm gonna be all Officer and a Gentleman on your ass, Xan Man. I'm gonna have you doin' pushups in the mud. I'll be all Louis Gossett Junior on your ass. It's gonna be, 'Drop and give me twenty, Mayo-nnaise! I want your D.O.R.!'"

Xander and Willow both giggled. "You make him Richard Gere and I'm not complaining," Willow said. "I'd watch Richard Gere do pushups anytime. Um…what's a 'D.O.R.'?"

"Military thing," Faith said. "Means 'drop on request'. When you can't get through basic training 'cuz it's too hard and you just say screw it and quit. Louis Gossett Junior was all on Richard Gere's ass about how he was gonna train him so hard that he was gonna get Gere's D.O.R."
"Yeah, that's right, I remember now," Willow said. "But Richard Gere was entirely too gorgeous and built and sexy and awesome to let Louis Gossett Junior make him quit."

"With all this Four Horsemen stuff happening – and okay, we got a reprieve, we got the Key, but still – I've just been thinking a lot lately about what I can do to…sort of earn my keep around here," Xander said. "So, Faith? Thanks. It means a lot, you taking the time to help me out like this."

"Actually, I'm pretty sure the Four Horsemen of the Apocalypse are onstage playing right now," Willow said.

The Alibi Room was a dive bar indistinguishable from a thousand other dive bars with the exception that it had more demons among its patrons than most, and was perhaps slightly grimier. It was a dark, cramped little place with a jukebox that played country music, a bathroom best left to the imagination and dart tournaments on Saturday nights, and it served blood in eleven different flavors. It also had a plate glass window out front that said We Got You Covered in big, festive letters, and a demon crashing through that window at that exact moment and landing dead on the sidewalk in a puddle of yellow blood.

A pleasant evening of darts and arguing over whether Johnny Cash or Merle Haggard wrote the most poignant songs had ended abruptly for the demons in The Alibi Room when Buffy walked through the door. The demons had made a stand, but Buffy killed a good number of them and the rest had sat back down and decided on a wait-and-see strategy. Buffy stood in front of the exit and smiled, showing the demons her teeth. She felt like a lion in a rabbit cage and if she could she'd bottle the feeling and drink some every single day for the rest of her life.

And she had stopped at her house on the way to the bar and put on some underwear. So she was feeling pretty good about that too.

Buffy liked the sword. It was great for beheading surly, drunk smelly demons and it was covered with demon blood in five different colors now.

"So is anybody gonna talk to me or am I gonna have to kill you all?" she said. "Because in case you haven't noticed? I'm good with this thing. Plus, I'm the Slayer. I mean, hello? Kinda rude not to cower at least a little. Geez."

Nobody answered her. Their eyes answered for her. The demons were afraid; Buffy saw it in their eyes, she smelled it on them. She liked it.

"That's better," Buffy said. "Mmm, smell that fear. Now we're making progress. So how about you guys – uh, things, Demonic Americans, whatever – tell me a little about those new vamps and I'll be on my way. 'Cuz, seriously? Haven't even broken a sweat yet. I can keep this up all night, folks. Oh, and by the way? If you guys don't talk pretty soon I'm gonna smash open that jukebox and take all your Johnny Cash records. Not even kidding. I will. I'll take 'em all."

Buffy noticed a very large demon sitting alone at a table in the back who didn't seem afraid. And she knew that if there was any more trouble, he'd be the one to make it.

Willy, the proprietor of The Alibi Room, cowered behind the bar, waiting for the inevitable. Buffy would hit him. It would hurt. He was a short, scrawny, pasty, scruffy, non-super-powered, non-immortal, completely regular human being with a low pain threshold and he knew his limitations.

The very large demon at the table in the back finished his drink (virgin blood, spritz of lime, rocks), and glowered at Buffy like she was a very small bug that he meant to step on, and step on good.

"That was my little brother you just tossed through that window, Earth scum," the demon rumbled, as he stood up…and up…and up.

The demon was more than seven feet tall, and he had the muscle to go with it. The demon also had a scaly brown hide, two large yellow horns, a snout, and beady red eyes that looked upset right now.

"Have you met my sword?" Buffy said. "It totally wants to make your acquaintance."

The demon snarled at her. Somewhere in the back of the room, someone said, "Get her, Mike!"

The demon roared in her face. It sounded like a freight train and smelled like a wino's pants. His rancid breath whipped Buffy's hair around like she was standing in a wind tunnel.

"Coke?" the bartender said. "Sure you wouldn't like something a little stronger, hon? How about a martini. I do a great martini. On the house."

"On the house?" Faith said, sitting at the bar and smiling. The bartender was cute. Buffy was cuter, but still…

"You think I'm pretty?" Faith said. The bartender was Latino, and he had a great smile, and big blue eyes. Faith noticed his forearms were very muscular. All that pouring must be good exercise. He had good, wide shoulders too.

"Come on, like you don't know how gorgeous you are?" he said, and smiled the smile again.

"Too bad, I was all ready to show off a little. I can do that Tom Cruise thing where he juggles the bottles…"

"This your boyfriend?" the bartender said. Faith had to give him credit; his smile didn't miss a beat. Smooth.

Faith wasn't flirting with the bartender. In the old days she would've, he was a cutie. But now she didn't want to…

"We're just friends," Xander said, and grinned at Faith. "I'm not interrupting something here, am I?"

"I was trying to make this pretty girl a martini but all she wants is a Coke. Won't even let me show off. Okay, one Coke, coming right up. And not even any rum in it," the bartender said, and smiled, his eyes crinkling up when he smiled in a perfectly cute way. Faith really hoped Buffy appreciated the sacrifices she made for her.

But then the bartender's eyes suddenly widened. "Oh my God," he said, in a small, scared voice, at the same moment as Faith's nose was suddenly telling her that something was very, very wrong….

Faith turned around, and her stake was in her hand, as screams erupted from all over the room. She saw twenty vampires slashing through the crowd…

"Yeah, that's right, Slayer! You wanted a fight, you're gonna get one!" a demon sitting way in the back, where Buffy couldn't see his face, said.

"You're not taking our Johnny Cash records either," a third demon sitting way in the back said.

Willy shook his head, and sighed. He knew Mike was going to die, and Mike was one of his best customers. He always paid his bar tab…

With a roar, Mike lunged at Buffy and tried to grab her by the throat as the crowd hollered and applauded…

Buffy ducked under Mike's outstretched arms, spun around behind his back, and beheaded him. It took her one second.

Mike's head bounced around on the floor and rolled away. Mike's body smashed into the floor like a tree someone had just cut down.

"Well, that was bracing," Buffy said, and giggled. "I love this sword. I think I might marry it. I think we have a long, bright future ahead of us."

"You…you killed Mike," a demon sitting way in the back, where Buffy couldn't see him, whined. "But…you can't kill Mike."

"I so killed Mike," Buffy said, and smashed her fist through the jukebox. "And Johnny Cash? Mine."

It was chaos at the Bronze as the vampires slashed and trampled their way through a sea of screaming people. At the back of the room, Willow stood on a chair to try to find out what was causing all the commotion. This being Sunnydale, she had a pretty good idea, but she wanted to be sure. Through the tangled mass of running bodies, she could see vampires…all wolves like the ones they had encountered in the cemetery the night before. She pulled her stake from her purse, and looked for Xander. She couldn't find him in the crowd.

She saw dozens of screaming people trying to cram through the front door. There was a fire exit on the other side of the room, but apparently they hadn't noticed. Being chased by vampires made a person tend to forget little details like that. Glass shattered as a table smashed through the front window, and the crowd raced through it like water through a sluice. She felt herself becoming afraid, felt panic rising within her. She had always been afraid, when she went with Buffy on patrols or tried to help her against the latest Big Bad they were up against, but she never told anyone. She wanted Buffy to be able to count on her…

As the crowd thinned, she noticed that all of the vampires seemed to be running in her direction.

"Faith's here," she whispered to herself, as she felt herself starting to tremble, and tried not to scream…

The vampires were seconds away from her. Willow racked her brain for a spell, but there was no time and there were too many people around and she couldn't think…she didn't know where Faith was and even if she could conjure an energy barrier in the seconds she had, Faith would be on the wrong side of it…she couldn't pray to Apate to aid her with her blinding smoke for another month…she had been trying ever since the fight with Kakistos to learn to conjure a fireball but she hadn't managed it yet. All the other spells she knew would put Faith at as much of a disadvantage as the vampires in these close quarters, or take too long to prepare…she took her stake out of her purse, and braced herself…

With a roar, the lion leaped at the vampires from behind and beheaded two of them with her sword before they even knew she was there, her hands moving faster than Willow's eyes could follow. The wolves turned to confront this new predator, but the Bronze was emptying out and the lion had room to move now, and she took a running start, leaped onto a table, sprang fifteen feet over the wolves' heads, somersaulted through the air and came up in front of Willow, her sword and her stake ready, snarling at the wolves, and showing them her teeth.

"Um, okay," Willow said, and stepped down from the table and stood behind Faith.

"I'm here now, Will," Faith said. "No one's gonna hurt you when I'm around. You see Xander?"

"I…can't see…" Willow said, looking for Xander. The crowd was almost gone but she still couldn't see him. The vampires, eighteen left now, stood in a pack surrounding Faith and Willow, growling.

"Got a bead on him," Faith said, sniffing the air. She'd picked up Xander's scent; he was coming out from behind the bar with a big knife in one hand and his stake in the other, slowly making his way toward Faith and Willow's position.

"Listen," Faith said. "Don't use any magic 'till you run it by me first, okay? We got a real situation here and one wrong move could backfire on us."

"Okay," Willow said. Willow was trying to sound strong, but Faith could smell the fear on her. But she was shaking less now, as Faith held her hand. "Xander," Willow said. "We gotta get to Xander. If…those vampires…"

One of the wolves stepped forward. When he moved, he hunched forward like an animal on its hind legs.

"So y'know, I was talking with someone today, Willy, and I had…I guess you could call it a moment of clarity," Buffy said, looking around the cluttered, dusty little room behind the bar that Willy used as an office. Buffy thought the little room looked absolutely nothing like the sort of cool room Sam used as an office on Cheers and looked a lot like Xander's deadbeat alcoholic uncle Rory's crappy little basement apartment that she and Willow had been forced to spend a nightmarish two hours in the year before. It even had a moose head on the wall like the one at Rory's place. And a smell.

"Yeah, that all sounds really fascinatin', kid," Willy said. "And you know I love it when you act all tough, but I already told ya I don't know nothin' and those lushes out there are probably drinkin' all my best stuff. And hey, how about givin' me those Johnny Cash records back. You don't need 'em, you kids don't listen to country music."

"What, these?" Buffy said, and put her sword down on Willy's desk and picked up the stack of Johnny Cash records that she had left balanced on the arm of the old smelly green chair with the white stain on the cushion. She knew what the white stain was; she could smell it.

"You do things in this chair I don't wanna know about, don't you?" Buffy said, and turned and looked at him. "Really like, gross things."

"Willy plays with his little willy," Buffy said, and laughed, and crushed the stack of records between her hands like an accordion. The records crumbled into tiny pieces and fell to the floor. "You pathetic piece of shit."

"Hey!" Willy screamed. "For chrissake, those were collectors items! Do you know how expensive they are?!"

"Shut the fuck up," Buffy said, and punched him in the face. He went flying across the office and slammed into the wall, bounced off it and fell to the floor. He looked up at her, his nose bleeding.

"So yeah, moment of clarity," Buffy said. "I talked to a very smart, cool British man and had a moment of clarity and I realized some stuff. One of the big things I realized? I realized it's time I grew up. We have a problem here, Willy."

"What…why'd you…you never…hit me like that before," Willy said, looking up at her like a mouse looking up at a cat.

"Here's the problem," Buffy said. "You've never been scared of me. But hey, don't worry. It's not gonna be a problem for us much longer."

Buffy walked away from him, and grabbed the little wooden chair from behind the little old desk covered with racing forms and lottery tickets and old coffee stains. She set it down in front of him.

Hesitantly, Willy sat in the chair, wiping his bloody nose on his sleeve and looking at the floor. Buffy leaned against the desk, and looked down at him.
"I'm not blaming you, Willy," Buffy said. "It's not your fault you're not afraid of me. It's mine. I'm all perky and sarcastic and pretty and clever, and plus there's that little rule I have about not killing humans. You're a little rat who's sold me out before but I figure you just barely qualify. So yeah, I'll never kill you. But I can do all kinds of other stuff. Give me your hand."

He held out his hand. It was shaking. Buffy took it gently in hers, and stroked it.

"This is what you think I am, right?" Buffy said. "Nice. Non-threatening. All dew drops and daffodils. A cute, sassy gal you can bring home to Mom. Thing is, Willy…I wish I was. You wouldn't believe sometimes how much I wish I was. But, nope. 'Fraid not. We don't get what we wish for in this world."

Willy screamed, as Buffy crushed his hand in hers. He tried to pull away but he couldn't; her grip was like a bear trap. She looked at him without any emotion at all as she slowly increased the pressure, as his hand crumpled in hers like styrofoam and his bones popped and cracked. She looked bored.

"This is what I am," Buffy said. "I didn't ask for it. But there it is. There's a monster in me. And I've spent almost two years now fighting her, holding her back, denying her, wishing she was gone. Not anymore."

Because a hundred vampires almost killed three people I love last night," Buffy said.

"Yeah, I believe you," Buffy said. "But there were also those four priest guys, plus the vamps who delivered the package. Your regulars didn't know anything about any of them, but I'm pretty sure you know something."

"One of the guys…the vamps who delivered the package. I know where he stays…holes up in this old abandoned warehouse down by the docks. Old building, has a sign on it that says 'Pacific Fisheries'."

"Stop your frigging crying. It was fun for a minute but I'm bored now," Buffy said. "Look at me."

"From now on, our relationship's gonna be different," Buffy said. "From now on you're working for me. And if you say anything at all to me but, 'Yes, ma'am' when I'm through laying all the details out for you then I'll cut the heads off your regulars, burn this shithole to the ground and put you in traction for the rest of your life. You won't even be able to jerk your little willy off anymore. Plus? Totally going after the Merle Haggard albums next."

She kicked the chair out from under him. It broke apart and he fell sprawling to the floor.

"I'm the Slayer," Buffy said. "And maybe you like, for some reason probably having to do with you not really being too bright, never really got this? But, what I am? Kind of all right there in the name. I kill things like your customers, just for the fun of it. It gives me a nice, warm feeling inside when I feel their necks cracking in my hands. And okay, I won't ever kill you. But I sure will hurt you if you cross me. Your hand? That was a kiss on the cheek. We've gone around in circles, you and me, for more than a year now. We've done our routine where I beat you up a little but I never really hurt you and we both pretend we're in an old private eye movie and sure, we had some laughs, but then my boyfriend went bad and killed a lot of people. I have their pictures in a shoebox in my closet. He sent them to me. So I would know that it was my fault that all those little…all those people were dead. It changes your perspective."

"Willy," Buffy said. "One of the ways our relationship is gonna change is I want to listen to as little of your whining as possible from now on. So no interrupting, and you'll only talk to me when I tell you to talk. If you interrupt again I'll hurt you. Do you understand?"

"Y'know, it's funny," Buffy said. "I'm pretty sure if I added up all the time I've wasted playing through this bullshit routine with you, sitting around this little office with your disgusting fucking cum stains on the chair, it'd probably turn out that at least a few innocent people that I could've saved if I'd had the time are dead because of it. And then of course you decided to make some extra pocket change by selling Angel to Spike last year. Remember that? And because Spike and Dru got their claws in him Dru was able to use Angel's blood to get nice and healthy again. Which gave her the strength to kill Kendra. Because of you a Slayer is dead. And plus maybe if I'd thought of this last year and forced you to look harder for info about Spike and Dru I would've been able to find them sooner and Angel wouldn't have had a chance to kill all those…maybe I could've stopped him. So yeah, I figure it's time I grew up. Not like they're ever gonna have a chance to."

"I took off for awhile after that, got my head together over the summer," Buffy said. "You probably noticed. Your regulars were all struttin' around town all pleased with themselves for awhile, 'till I came back and laid the smack down again. And I tried, Willy, I tried to pretend things could be the same. I've been trying to pretend for awhile now. Pretend I'm not the Slayer. Pretend I'm not a monster. But I am. I'm a monster put here to kill monsters and I didn't ask for it. But I'm the worst monster of them all and damn if I don't enjoy my work."

Buffy grabbed a pen and a piece of scrap paper from the desk and wrote down a phone number.

"So here's how it's gonna be," Buffy said. "From now on, whenever you hear anything at all that I might be interested in, you'll dial this number and tell the nice British man who answers all about it. And once in awhile I'll pay you a visit and we'll run through our old routine where I hurt you just enough so you've still got cred with your regulars, just to keep up appearances. No one will know you're working for me. But you will be. You'll be actively looking for the inside scoop on anything that might interest me and you're gonna give me good info on a regular basis. If you don't agree to do all this then I'm gonna hurt you so bad that you'll never walk again, and then I'm gonna go right back out there and kill all those idiots – well, not Clem, I like him for some reason – and then I'm gonna burn this place down. Because if I'm not getting info I've got no use for this place. If your regulars aren't blabbing secrets which you pass on to me, I've got no use for your regulars. And if you're not working for me I've got no use for you. And because, you dirty piece of shit, Kendra's DEAD because of you."

Moving with incredible speed, Faith threw her stake straight through the heart of one of the vampires as it sprang at her, batted another out of the air with her wakizashi, spun, grabbed the stake out of Willow's hand, ducked another vampire and staked him as he passed over her head. She backed Willow up, kept her behind her, as she swung her wakizashi, trying to hold the vampires off. But fighting the vampires and protecting Willow at the same time was putting her at a disadvantage. The vampires growled and snapped at her like a pack of wolves, looking for an opening as Faith barely held them at bay with her sword. She didn't have any room to maneuver.

Ultimately it would be untenable. If she didn't change the rules of this fight she knew it would be over very soon.

Main What's New Fiction by Author Fiction by Pairing eBooks

Subject Index Submissions Gallery Forums Links Awards Contact Us

If you find problems on these pages please email your host.

Meant to Be
The New World

by Hellmouth Guy

Copyright © 2008

hellmouthadmin@thehellmouthrevisited.com

Meant to Be The New World

by Hellmouth Guy

Copyright © 2008

hellmouthadmin@thehellmouthrevisited.com

Meant to Be
The New World