Living After:
Summer Unwind

"Well, first I was thinking maybe I'd get this stab wound looked at – then possibly fixed. Then pizza, then 'Rip Van Winkle' through the next decade, then wake up filthy rich on a tropical…" Buffy spoke to the victorious crowd before trailing off, realizing something. "Um, oh yeah. How the hell are we supposed to get out of here?"

She saw the empty road ahead, saw the school bus full of relieved yet injured slayers, thinking of the people they lost; but for once, she didn't go to that solitary darkness. Spike and the others sacrificed themselves for the world, for the survivors; she owed it to them to take advantage of this opportunity, and to never fall into that trap again. Because she wasn't alone anymore – she and Faith were connected to hundreds of girls just like them. They shared the power, the responsibility, and their army was now immense. Words couldn't describe how great that felt.

Then there were her friends, her family, standing there triumphant and proud. They won the best prize anyone could ever ask for. The freedom to choose. Twenty-two, with their lives actually waiting. She met each of their eyes, showing her gratitude and love silently, as the moment wasn't ready to end. This had been earned. They made it, which Spike had seen to. She hoped that the kind of love she had for him, while not the kind he wanted, had been somewhat of a comfort, because that's all she had to give. He was deeply cared for in her heart – she couldn't foresee herself ever admiring another man as much as she did him.

At this point, she didn't care if she had to walk miles upon miles to the nearest sign of civilization…beat fighting her way to it, after all.

"Was that…?" Faith suddenly had a shocked expression, which she directed solely at their leader. "Man, that was. 'Humor' finally clawin' up and out. Had to be, cause ya know, it was almost funny." She doubled over, then, clutching her stomach. "I don't…think I can…take it…" Followed by pretending to hyperventilate, very exaggeratedly.

Dawn was there for support, rubbing her back. "It's okay. Just put your head between your knees and breathe slow. I know it's hard to accept, but I'm pretty sure she's not a robot."

"D'you want me to kick your ass?" The blonde narrowed her eyes with a smirk at her fellow slayer, and then looked to her sister. "Once you get a new bedroom, you're grounded in it for two weeks. Minimum. Just figured a head's up would be nice."

"Yep, definitely not a robot."

Giles spoke up, concern in his voice. "Someone should examine your wound sooner rather than later, Buffy. It needs tending to, I'm sure." The group dispersed, and he followed behind his surrogate daughter, a steadying hand on her back, until she took a seat on the rear of the bus, her legs hanging off of the edge. "How badly were you…?"

"Pretty bad; I felt it go through. But when I got the scythe in my hands, I think it gave the 'super healing' a major boost." Buffy answered, seeing Faith walk up and bend down a little in front of her. "You volunteering to fix me?"

The brunette grinned and called, "Vi! Toss me a kit!" The girl did, and Faith got out some gauze and tape. "So what did'ya do with it?" Next she dabbed some alcohol onto a cotton swab. It was the best they had. "The scythe."

Giles went to see how Robin was doing, when he saw that Buffy was being taken care of.

She lifted up the bloody part of her top, revealing her injured side. "Left it on top of the bus. Might be hard to…" Watching as Willow floated it into her own hands, she smiled. "Or it won't be. Make sure the girls get that, Will?" The witch nodded and boarded the bus.

"It's not even deep – you faking just for the attention, or what?" The Bostonian knew the puncture had been worse, but now she stared in amazement. "That thing is so dope."

Eyebrows rose. "All right, what's with the new lingo? 'Trippin',' 'Mad,' 'Dope'…is there something you wanna tell me? You aren't gonna start calling me 'Whitey,' are you?"

Faith chuckled. "Going to prison is like steppin' into another country…bunch of different chicks with their own rules, all spewing Greek at each other cause of some seriously nasty language barriers; hit 'em, and you got yourself a brawl that makes the WWE seem wicked tame. If you hang in, though, you can bust a few down, then use whatever you think is phat." An oldie but a goodie, said just to get the eye-roll, while she rubbed the swab gently over the marred area. "Besides, 'urban girl' to the core – can't help it."

"And that analogy works because you're *such* a globetrotter." The sarcastic patient snickered, trying not to wince at the disinfecting process.

"I dunno, I'd say Sunnydale qualified as foreign territory."

Buffy considered that a moment, before agreeing completely. "Word." Laughter spilled from both slayers for a long, few seconds. They managed to pull themselves together so the covering could be applied, but not soon enough to avoid attracting the attention of Xander, who'd still been gazing at the crater. As he came to see what the funny was, his friend got a good look at the mix of relief and pain on his face. "Anya didn't…? Goddamn it."

The brunette took the empty spot beside her slight elder, and exhaled. "I knew hopin' to dodge casualties wasn't realistic from the go, but of all the people I thought we were gonna lose, gotta say, I never expected her to make the list." She reached for the pack of cigarettes in her jacket pocket. "Had enough of this 'war' shit, B. I'm done, screw it."

She lit up as Xander reached them. "What brought on the 'hahas'?" Neither of them answered; they only smiled weakly. "Is the patch crooked or something? C'mon, lay it on me – always been a fan of a good 'ha.' I wouldn't, uh, actually turn down the plural right about now…love those things."

"It was…" The blonde struggled with wanting to answer him and console him, and she decided that the best way to get to the latter, past the small talk, was to briefly be lame. "It was one of those 'in the moment' ha's that don't…have the same punch to their lines the second time around." She grabbed his hand and squeezed it firmly, her eyes welling. "Xander…I'm sorry. God, I'm so sorry."

He kept his composure fairly well, though his voice sounded rawer almost immediately. "I can't; not now, Buff. Don't wanna spoil the 'victory loitering/afterglow.'" A brave smile. "Anyway, wasn't your fault – we knew what we were enlisting for. Sometimes…there's a price."

She wasn't just talking about Anya. "But that doesn't – "

"She went out all heroic, though. Knowing that…it kinda helps. Not much, but still – Godzilla-sized plus." He squeezed back with his other hand, trying to reassure her. "Later, okay? And I see your apology and raise you an 'I overshot the line before, sorry I'm an ass,' one."

The petite slayer released her grip, cleared her throat, and blinked the water out. "Okay."

"Cig?" Faith offered after she couldn't stand the silence anymore, holding her pack out, and it surprised both her and Xander when Buffy accepted, popping one in her mouth and gesturing to the lighter.

"What?" Came the defensive response to their questioning stares. "I've earned the right to slowly kill myself if I want." Her sister slayer shrugged, gave her a light, and observed as she inhaled…then coughed and wheezed. "Uh, that's, uh…can I work my way up from the candy kind?" She handed the offending object over to Xander, who chucked it to the ground and stomped on it.

"Hey, Xander, you heard about that guy from Nantucket? See, the dude was into a little kink every now and then, so one day he was at a gas station, chillin' till the pump ran dry, and I guess he got bored – sorta sketchy on the details – cause the story goes that he slammed his dipstick into a bucket."

Her audience sent smirks her way, and before she could delve deeper into her version of the limerick (whose structure she'd already decimated), Giles walked down the aisle to the back of the bus. "There isn't enough gasoline in the tank to put us anywhere remotely, ah, more pleasant than where we are at the moment."

"We could hitch!" Xander realized, thinking his plan to be solid. "I can stretch the 'blind guy' sympathy card, and – "

"Ooh! Oh!" Andrew ran around to join them, his sudden hyperactivity and excitement about his contribution, dulling his depression. "If anyone has like, some nice, ruby slippers, they could click their heels and say, 'There's no place like Rivendale,' and then the Elven Council can send a rescue party for the rest of us." Everyone who could hear him clearly, stared at him like he was crazy. "Hey, it worked for Dorothy. All we have to do is believe. And-and if we didn't believe in 'Peter Pan,' would Tinkerbell have lived? Huh?" He seemed vindicated by their non-replies. "That's right. I don't think so." Then he strolled off, head held high.

"Somebody's *gotta* deprogram that kid. Medicate the hell out of him, whatever." Faith pretty much condensed what they had all thought, in one form or another.

Willow was kneeling on the seat to the right of where the ex-watcher stood, having moved to listen to Andrew's speech. "None of our cell phones are getting any signal. When the Hellmouth devours, it kinda devours pretty thoroughly. No towers means no service, means totally stranded. Three of the girls need a hospital, fast; there's nothing else we can do."

Dawn turned white, slowly approaching the group. "I left my cell phone in the house! You know what that means? A slimy demon's probably using all my minutes! And I had rollover! Crap."

"We need to focus, guys." Buffy said to them, calmly. "We can't stay here, and the odds of somebody driving this way are pretty low. Word of mouth must've spread like crazy when people had their exodusing idea, so, who would?"

That's when they heard the chopper coming, and several minutes later, they could make out what looked to be a line of black vehicles moving toward them on the road.

Faith turned her head to look at the young woman, who was sheepish at the turn of events.

The helicopter landed off to the side of the road, and kept its blades spinning – the pilot stayed put. A stretch limousine and two SUVs parked on the asphalt strip a few feet away from the crowd, and again, there was no activity. The eldest slayers looked at each other quizzically, shrugged in unison, and then without a word, cautiously began walking up to the driver's side of the limo, hair blowing around all the while.

"Ever see the X-Files?" Faith asked rhetorically, a nervous grin on her face.

"Once or twice." Buffy answered anyway, wearing the same expression. "And I was really hoping not to hafta do any mysterious, 'Meet'N'Greets' for at least a half-an-hour, because cutting the basking short? Doesn't feel like winning."

"Maybe we should tell 'em to come back tonight. It'd help their image, you know? Cause it's all about atmosphere." The brunette replied, half-serious.

"How bout you do the telling, and I do the violence?"

Faith frowned. "You get to have all the fun."

The blonde smirked. "Duh." Before Faith rapped her knuckles on the window, she put a hand on her arm, asking her to hold on. "There's something, um…I need to say. To you."

She caught the quick look of fear that flashed in those brown eyes, and knew why it was there. It was her own fault; sure, they'd fought alongside one another, had a couple, peaceful conversations, but she'd also slugged her twice and dredged up the past in front of everyone, out of desperation. Out of a need to stay in control. Nothing that happened had to do with Faith at all. In fact, the anger had taken a hike a long time ago – she'd forgiven her. Only the message that repeatedly got sent was somehow always the exact opposite.

The brunette was afraid that Buffy was going to say she was no longer useful, that she'd played her part, and now the murderer would be disposed of quietly at the first, available opportunity – no. She had proven herself here, in LA, and had shown incredible dedication and restraint, staying behind bars for nearly three years. The past was the past; they were different people. Not only was it nice to have her back, it was also a relief. What better way was there to start off the new slate, then by giving their friendship another chance?

They deserved it…after they dealt with this latest puzzle.

"If this is the First's backup plan…and a group of guys with Uzi's jump out," Buffy figured there wasn't time to waste on avoiding the point, "I just want you to know…that I appreciate you looking out for me. You've been doing it since you got here, and it means a lot, really." She paused, while fear gave way to shock. "I'm sorry, too. Sorry for being a jerk before, and for the face punching, which I'm gonna try not to do anymore. Far as I'm concerned, we're good; I…I want us to be." She took a breath. "Ready?"

Faith broke out into a wide grin, and you could see her physically relax. Once they got out of here, fun was going to be had – there were four years to make up. "Always." Then the car window slid down, and the slayers each let loose a surprised scream, jumping back about a foot. So much for the tough, unflappable world saviors. "Dude, the wind so knocked me back…did you see that? And I think I tripped…road must be messed up."

Buffy nodded, hoping to cover her embarrassment. "They should definitely repave. And breezes are dangerous; never underestimate a breeze."

"Um, excuse me, Miss Summers?" The limo driver got their attention, holding a cell phone in his outstretched hand. "Mr. Angel would like to speak with you."

Once more, the slayers exchanged stupefied looks with each other, and then the shorter addressed the speaker. "Who are you, how is Angel on the phone – because ours are just fancy paperweights – and when did that become his last name?"

"He start pimpin' on the side?" Faith queried, her interest piqued. "Because that'd be a sweet pimp name."

"Faith, you're not helping." Though the blonde did agree with her, she had to keep up a front.

The driver answered in a business-like manner. "Mr. Angel is CEO of the Los Angeles branch of 'Wolfram & Hart,' as well as my employer, and the cellular technology we've developed is far less limited than what's currently on the market." He saw the unsettled, somewhat harder expression on the brunette's face, and decided to stop talking before his professional demeanor devolved into endless stuttering. "But please, Miss…he's waiting."

Buffy took the phone then, handling it like something that might be poisonous; she risked it in the hope that explanations would come from the other end. "Angel?" She smiled and exhaled with relief upon hearing his voice. "So what's the deal?…A little, but I should've expected. You never did listen to me…Yes, I'm glad you butted in. Also? Impressed…I can see that. Since when do you have 'teams' to place anywhere?" She started walking and talking.

That left Faith somewhat alone with the driver. She opened the door and leaned against the inside of it, laying her hand across the top edge. Eying him, she was happy with the fact that he was visibly shaking. "All right – tell me the sitch. Do your people have somethin' on him? They stick his soul in another jar? Cause I was planning some major downtime, and I can't be pulling his ass from the fire every other week. That's not fair, yeah?" She kicked her leg out and hit the leather seat; its occupant's knee-jerk reaction was to jerk his knee into the steering wheel. "Hey, I'm askin' questions, here. Better like the answers."

Wincing and holding his injured area, he tried to comply. "I'm…uh…I'm only the-the driver. I don't really know…any-anything about – "

She scowled, and just before she could get up into his face, the blonde was back, directing her to turn around by pressing on her shoulder. Her victim immediately shut the door, locked it, and rolled up the window. "I was just gonna threaten to get rough with him, B."

"I know, and if we had time I'd let you play the bad cop all you wanted, but we have to move, because I don't wanna be on the news." Buffy explained, still on the line with Angel. "Angel says it's all legit and official, by the way." Faith opened her mouth to respond, but she was cut off. "He promises he didn't sell out…not exactly. Anyway, he'll explain later, because these guys are here to take us to his place, where we're gonna crash for a while." She paused as she got an understanding nod. "The helicopter has stretchers on it, so whoever needs it most has a ride to the nearest hospital, express; the limo's for us and the gang, and the SUVs are for the girls. Can you help get everybody situated?"

"Already doing it."

"That was fast."

"S'how I work."

The Californian smiled as her partner went to fill in the exhausted troops, then her ex began speaking to her again. "What?…Nope, Faith and I are meshing…We're *fine*; swell as always." She smirked when the Bostonian turned around to give her a special finger, smiling sweetly. "Hang on a sec." Putting the phone in her pocket for a moment, she showed two fingers to Faith's back.

The brunette turned again in the middle of her instructions, to commend the blonde. "You went for the double? Daring…gotta respect that. Didn't figure you as the type, but then again, you *do* like your meat 62.3." Wink. "Say, how'd the Big Guy react to – ?"

"How do you know he's big?" Buffy posed, half-joking and accusing. That was over fast, however, as what she'd said registered. Buffy cupped her hands over her mouth, and her eyes went wide. "Oh shit." She scrambled to retrieve the phone. "You didn't hear that, did you?…Nothing, it was nothing…We were just, uh, doing flips. It's a thing. Way better than fighting to the death. I think we're growing. Um, I gotta go."

Faith had the decency to wait until the phone was off to crack up, and there was a second finger exchange as the petite woman went to speak to the chopper pilot.

"Wow," Kennedy commented, "that was a whole lot of fucking."

Giles and Willow both turned red, while Dawn supported her friend. "Well it was."

"Yo, Woodpecker, time to fly. You up for it?" Faith asked with a grin as she hopped up the three steps onto the school bus.

Robin was partially sitting up; he was managing, but he still needed medical attention. No one could tell for sure how bad off he was. "Mm, that was…clever. Filled with layered…embarrassing references to my manhood and pride as a guy, but clever."

She shrugged. "I'm deep."

"I've noticed." He said, his eyebrows scrunching together. "But I thought all the room was taken."

"Rona gave up her spot; she wants to tough it out." The brunette told him, smirking. "Girl's the real deal now – being stubborn's part of the package. Plus, she's got that healing bonus, yours skipped a generation. Too bad it wasn't passed down."

His eyes widened in surprise. "Did Buffy say – ?"

"You think she'd spill that?" She shook her head, smiling a little sympathetically. "Just got a vibe. Since the power's been cut loose, it's like…isolation's over, and we all linked up. Past, present and future; it's pretty cool." Vi came up behind her as the ex-principal absorbed this information. "Stretcher's on the ground outside. We're gonna lift you off, get you loaded."

"Could you…give us a minute?" He requested of the younger girl, who nodded.

"I'll just, um…go wait, somewhere…away, but not too far away, cause…" Vi rambled, before silencing herself. "Sorry." She exited back down the steps, blushing.

Once she was gone, Faith sighed. "Look, Robin, whatever you're gonna – "

"After they discharge me, I'm probably going straight home. To New York. There's…someone I haven't gotten around to visiting for a while, and it's about time I did." They both knew that someone was his mother. "Then I was thinking I could get a real life."

"Oh." She wasn't expecting that.

"And you're welcome to come with me…if you want; I'd like the company." He smiled at her, hopeful but realistic. "I know the offer doesn't seem too attractive right now, but if you look past the bloody wounds and bruises…"

Okay, *this* she had expected, and after hesitating a second, she was direct. "You're a decent guy and all, but I told you, me and relationships don't mix. Kinda like B that way." Apparently, given his look, she was the only one who found that amusing. "I'm not worth the risk, all right?"

"You don't give yourself a lot of credit, do you, Faith?"

"Might not, but this ain't the time or the place to be havin' this conversation."

"Well, having it later isn't really an option, because long distance phone calls aren't exactly personal, so just try to bare with me." He continued when she kneeled down – it was hard to blow off somebody who took one for the team. "I've been single most of my life; avenging a loved one's death is pretty much all-consuming – long hours, little sleep. My relationship skills aren't exactly up to par, either. All I'm sure of, is that you're a person I'd enjoy getting to know, even if it's difficult sometimes. You're fun, dedicated, enthusiastic…" She laughed lightly. "In my opinion, you *are* worth it, and I'd prefer not to leave without you…doesn't that say something?"

"Yeah, that you're a 'closet-case.'" Faith deadpanned, and before he could get his glare on, she was serious again. "You probably stick by all that, and I love hearing it, don't get me wrong…been a long time since I met a guy like you. Truth is though, you could keep talkin' till you're so blue, it scares the ebony off ya; I'm just not ready to plunge in." She turned her head towards the door for a second, seeing everyone rushing about, and then focused back on him. "I want another shot with those people; I wanna hang with Buffy too, cause somethin' tells me it's gonna be a blast and a half. Gotta stay and find out."

As much as Robin respected Buffy, he still didn't understand why people grew so attached to her; though his view of her was skewed, because he resented the 'Slayer' attitude she carried, which wasn't entirely her doing. The sooner he was able to make peace with his mother, the better. "Does she realize how much you care about her?"

Geez, did he have her pegged or what? "It's nothing new, so yeah, if I had to guess. I'm lucky, one of these days it'll be mutual."

"I've watched enough TV to see that you're trying to tell me you just wanna be friends, which I can graciously accept." He smiled, however, there was a twinge of disappointment in his voice.

"Sorry." She offered in lame consolation.

"For what? Isn't anything you can help." He absolved her of any guilt. "If the opportunity ever comes, you think you'll be ready to plunge, then?"

"I dunno; we both got stuff goin' on that'd make a shrink mad rich. Just have to work through it, see where we land." The brunette said with frankness. "Best way to do that is step back and take a breather, cause that 'being alone,' slayer thing? Isn't bullshit. You can't explain it, but it's there. Puts you on a different level than everybody else; hurts when ya don't fit. But then you cross paths with the only other girl on the whole friggin' planet who gets the life, and bam – no other feeling like it." She smiled a grateful smile. "The rest of 'em never hafta go through that, but we did. And what can I say? We click. S'why when I played for the opposition, we couldn't go the extra mile."

Only now did he grasp the fact that this was barely scratching the surface of their relationship. Just by looking in her eyes he could see that, and it left him stunned. "You weren't kidding about the history."

"'Complex' doesn't even begin to cover it." Buffy said, having been standing on the steps for the past twenty-five to thirty seconds. "But that's what makes us so interesting."

Faith grinned at a shocked Robin, who hadn't been aware of the blonde's presence until now. "Says it all right there."

"Vi got relieved; I'm 'Chauffer Number 2.' I promise, if there's any dropping, it'll be Faith's fault." Buffy quipped, grinning faux-innocently.

"Won't matter – I'll just pin it on her." The younger slayer retorted. "Now can we get the hell off the big, yellow bus?"

"Good luck, take care of yourself." He whispered to her, before they picked him up.

"Think I'll manage…you do the same." She smiled reassuringly at him. "And thanks." The next part was spoken louder. "You gotta keep in touch, you know; can't forget about us."

"I'll surprise you, don't worry." They shared the inside joke, and then both slayers got him onto the stretcher and into the helicopter. Over the noise of the whirring blades, he yelled to them, asking that they pass on his goodbyes to the group.

"Watch your ass back home! Be plenty of femmes lookin' to get a bite of that apple!" The pair backed away from the flying machine, and watched as it took off. When it was only a speck in the sky, she turned to her companion. "I didn't know Willow could C-P a chopper." The redhead had been sitting in the seat beside the pilot's.

Buffy smirked, responding as they headed to the limo. "She's always wanted to ride. Except her official excuse was that she should go with them because, 'I'm a witch, and I've been told we're very handy to have around. Just in case.'" She held open the rear door for Faith when they reached the vehicle. "Dawn and Andrew wanted to go with the girls, Giles and Xander are up front. Giles thought we could use the space, and Xander didn't mind, cause Angel suddenly owes him, so he's gonna make the driver, 'Limo' him all over LA."

Laughing, Faith slid in, claiming the large, lengthy, leather seat on the left, while Buffy claimed the right, shutting the door. She was definitely catching some Z's on this. Smacking the power window behind her head, she signaled that it was time to go. "He shoulda waited on us."

"He would have if you hadn't freaked him." The petite slayer pointed out, as they started moving.

"Then let him cry me a river." The Bostonian snorted unaffectedly, lying down and stretching out.

The Californian followed Faith's example, finding it to be extremely comfortable. "Know what I've been thinking about?" Faith looked at her from the other seat. "Because we changed the rules, the 'Slayer' reason for us not getting along sorta doesn't hold up anymore."

"What's that mean?"

"I was hoping we could, uh, maybe start over, only do a better job this time. With the 'friends' part." She elaborated, slowly. "After we get some sleep." She heard no acknowledgement, and was too nervous to look over at Faith, but she still ventured out farther onto the limb. "Cause I missed you."

The brunette smiled hugely, up at the ceiling. "Missed you, too."

A pleasant silence settled over them for a few minutes, until the blonde, who was also smiling, ended it. "Oh…Faith?"

"Yeah?"

"I stopped being the 'One and Only' years ago."

Any lingering tension lifted from them both with that statement, and once Faith heeded her fellow passenger's warnings, agreeing not to sing – badly or at all – 'Road to Nowhere' ever again, it was a peaceful, restful trip all the way to Los Angeles.

A little past 12:30 in the morning, Buffy woke up in what she assumed was one of the rooms inside Angel's hotel. She hadn't actually been to the Hyperion before, but since the décor bore an uncanny resemblance to a room that would belong in a hotel, she didn't think she was making too big of a leap. How she got here she wasn't sure, but she was grateful to whoever had let her remain asleep. Her body was grateful, too – it felt rejuvenated. Still, that meant somebody had to carry her in, and she blushed at the thought.

Sitting up and swinging her legs over the side of the bed, she stretched and yawned. Everyone else had said they were going to find places to sleep the minute they arrived, but from the sound of things they'd all woken up several hours ago; she could hear Andrew's voice traveling through the hall, and Faith's more agitated one, though it wasn't because the two were in the same room together. Which was definitely a good thing. Curious now, she stood and walked into the hall, heading towards the nearest person.

Andrew was surrounded by a swarm of giggling, teenage girls excitedly giving him a makeover. Peeking into the room, she couldn't see him because her view was blocked, so she just listened. "This moisturizer is really soft. And I kinda like the 'Plum Passion' lipstick…it calls attention to my eyes. Don't you think I have the best eyes? They so express the deep pain and love that's in my bright, yet tortured soul. Can I have more blush?"

The slayer hurried down the hallway, muffling her laughter. It was amazing that he was ever capable of anything villainous. Her feet came to halt after the next few doors, and something told her it was Angel's room. There were no obvious indicators, though; she only got that feeling…like she always did where he was concerned. But he wasn't in it.

Faith, a cocky, black man, a skinny brunette, and Kennedy were crowded around a television and a PlayStation 2, seemingly engrossed. She guessed that the new people were Fred and Gunn, from what Angel told her last year. Her questions about when he'd developed a video game habit passed when Faith exclaimed, "What the fuck, Chuck? You can't just perch up there and snipe!"

"There ain't no rules; strongest always survive, girl. You just can't handle that I got the win locked, and I know you don't want me toastin' your wheels again, cause I *own* this game…proof's all in the record." Gunn taunted mercilessly, while cracking his knuckles. "Bet that chowdah soup you probably used to chug gallons of is finally catching up wit you, slowin' you down."

"Uh, Charles? I could be wrong – gosh knows it wouldn't be the first time I was – but…I'm pretty positive she can pound you into next Thursday; then she'll create a fold in our temporal reality, drag you back here to the past, which I guess is technically the present, and do it all over." Fred warned her ex, laughing at her own 'theoretical humor.' "Just sayin'."

He didn't know when to heed. "And I'm just sayin' maybe she oughta hang it up, work in some practice 'fore she tries tangling with the big dog. Can I help it if I have the finesse?"

Scowling, Faith swore she would *not* be beaten on her territory. She used to rule Twisted Metal 2, and he was getting his smug ass dethroned. "Whatever, man, cause if I wasn't reform…" She enjoyed letting that hang there for a moment. "I'm all outta white flags – hit the damn button."

The level of concentration that shone on her face was astonishing; it was the kind of focus one usually reserved for slaying, filtering out every other distraction. Because of this, Buffy momentarily debated silently entering the room and spooking the crap out of her slightly younger friend, but a decision couldn't be reached as Willow came up behind her at that crucial moment, holding a thin, tall, pink candle. Turning around, she knew exactly what it was for.

"Goodie, you're awake. Cause I didn't wanna get you up and have you be cranky." The redhead grinned, as the blonde put an arm across her shoulders. "We're ready, I think." Her friend's nervous, questioning expression jogged her memory, then. "Oh! The doctor at the hospital said only happy things."

The arm slipped down so hands could grasp as Willow led them to the stairs, and they descended. On the way here, before she succumbed to extreme tiredness, Buffy, Willow, Giles and Xander agreed – thanks to a particular witch's telepathic abilities – that they had to do this as soon as possible, but they couldn't do it on *the* day. Not when they were all running on fumes…would've been too much. Hopefully, this small gesture would be enough.

In the lobby there was a card table set up, which Wesley was shuffling at. Angel and a green-skinned demon wearing a bright, lavender suit, sat around it with him, but upon seeing her, all the men stood. She and Willow walked over, and Buffy released their digits to give her ex a strong, warm hug. They smiled at each other as it finished.

"You look…refreshed." He commented, pleased with his observation, and with a single glance, he gave her his condolences about Spike. Words would've killed his good intentions.

"I am." She assured him, her tiny smile communicating that she received them. "Comfy place you got here; not lacking with the space, either. Thanks for taking us in."

"Was the least I could do." He saw the slayer's eyes repeatedly going back to the strange demon she didn't know. "Buffy, this is Lorne…the anagogic demon I told you about. He works here full time now, and he's a good friend."

"Who cares if it's not physically possible? You're gonna make me blush, Angelcakes! Can't fool me with that 'Dark Hero' image anymore, ya big faker." Lorne told him, much to the vampire's embarrassment. "After today, don't you dare try to sell it, because I'm not buying." Turning to their petite guest, he extended his hand. "Well, aren't you a peach cobbler?" They shook. "Nice to finally meet you, sweetie."

"You too." It was odd, like his voice could not only put her at ease, but would also turn her frown upside down if need be. She looked to the ex-watcher, then. "Hey, Wes."

"It's good to see you, Buffy." Wesley acknowledged her with a genuine smile, something he hadn't had the ability to produce for a while. "When we heard the news that you all were coming, we were…very relieved." He spoke with a weariness that told her she had lots to be filled in on. "Though given how Faith described the battle to us, I'd say 'extremely' is more fitting an adjective. I wish I could've been there, honestly."

"No you don't." The survivors echoed, and then Buffy asked the obvious question, "Where's Cordy?"

By the trio of uncomfortable, achingly pained expressions, she knew she'd said the wrong thing, and it was Angel who appeared the worst off. "Tomorrow I'm gonna show you the new office, and I'll, uh…take you to see her." He paused. "You should hurry; it's supposed to rain."

She nodded and went to the doors that led out into the courtyard with Willow, then turned back to face her host. "You know, they're really getting mileage out of that game upstairs. It's scary."

Once the pair left, Angel concernedly asked his employees and closest of friends, "You don't think they'll break the system, do you?"

Outside in the hotel's entry courtyard/garden, Giles, Dawn and Xander were already waiting. Moving off of the raised, balcony area, Buffy sat beside the young brunette on the edge of the unusable fountain, while Willow placed the candle on the ground, among a mix of dozens of red, white, and peach-colored roses. Behind them, propped up against the wooden bench, her sister's delicately written, cursive handiwork could be seen on a large piece of poster board, done in violet and blue magic marker. The moonlight supplied a perfect view of it, even through the gathering clouds.

"Seems as though the storm is holding off." Giles commented, as grateful as the rest of his family for that.

"I've said this for years – storms get a bad rap. Nobody cares when they're considerate; the focus always has to come back to property damage. Which is, okay, *great* if you're in construction, but that doesn't mean I support horribly one-sided portrayals…won't ever." Xander chimed in, twirling the stem of a red rose between his thumb and finger, pondering. "Unless they're about vampires."

Buffy smirked. "Angel being the exception."

"Cause you'd have nowhere to go if it wasn't for him." Willow added, going to join the Summers' girls on the fountain.

"Hey, me and Angel are close pals. It's just that for us, 'speaking' – and most of your basic hand gestures – aren't necessities." Xander told his doubting friends. "Our manly bond is so rock-solid, that we don't hafta do the obvious thing."

"Like," Dawn was smirking now, "actually showing it in front of people?"

"Exactly. By deciding to keep the communication very low-key, time, and valuable energy, are both saved." He went on, sounding as if he'd just concluded a presentation. "Sometimes I forget I even like the guy."

"I'm amazed you were able to hide your true feelings for this long, Xander." Giles said, dryly sarcastic. "Clearly none of us had the slightest clue…so bravo."

"Did Giles just pull a 'gay' joke? On me?" Stupefied, the younger man frantically looked to anyone for an answer.

"It's perfect." The slayer indicated the poster board to her sibling, after rolling her eyes at the tangent that had wandered into the land of crazy talk.

"Really?" The teen questioned, brightening a little. "I think it's kinda dorky. I wanted to do more, but…" Sighing with frustration, she picked up a yellow rose that was lying next to her. "Oh, we, uh…we got this for Spike. I thought you might wanna…you know, put it with the others."

"Thanks." Buffy accepted the rose with a smile. "And it isn't dorky – far from. The whole point is just to let them know how much they meant to us…not to be huge and flashy." She gave her honest opinion as Dawn's head came to rest on her shoulder. "I think the message is appreciated."

The poster board started off with the heading, 'We Love You and Miss You.' Then it went on to list names down two columns in the middle: 'Mom,' 'Miss Calendar,' 'Anya,' 'Tara,' 'Spike,' 'Kendra,' 'Jesse,' 'Amanda'…even Cassie and the Potentials who lost their lives. Andrew had asked her to put Jonathan's name there as well, so she did. He, Faith, Kennedy and everyone would come to pay their respects, just not tonight. They thought it should be 'Scoobies Only' the first time.

There was a photograph on either side of the columns of names. On the left was a group shot taken at Christmas a couple years ago that included Joyce, Tara, and Anya. The right photo was of Giles and Jenny, after she'd forced him to stand in front of a monster truck. At the time it had bordered on being the most vexing night of the ex-watcher's life, and now it was a night he recalled often, and fondly. That was what they were all doing – reflecting on pleasant memories and giving a small, deserved tribute.

The slayer nodded at the witch while gently running her fingers along her sister's brunette locks. "Go ahead, Will."

With a thought and a tiny flick of the wrist, Willow magickally lit the candle; the orange-blue flame seemed to contentedly sway and bob on the wick. Xander was the first to go stand in front of their modest memorial, and as he squatted down he placed the rose for Anya among the others, her face prominent in his mind. "Hey, Ahn. How's it going up there?" He smiled and the tears that wanted to spill in Sunnydale finally did. It felt like a long time before he spoke again. "Muscle your way up the ladder yet? Well, if a plague starts wiping out the long-eared and furry, I'm guessing that'll be the first clue." He joked lightly. Anya would have Heaven economizing and efficient in record time. "I like how I turned out. Even have a little pride, which you get all the credit for, because my lazy ass needed a jumpstart – just wanted ya to know that. Swear I'll try to be a model for men everywhere." He felt Buffy's hand on his shoulder. "Love you, honey. Wish you were still here."

Pulling Xander in for a comforting embrace, Buffy let Willow have him a few seconds later, as she knelt down with her sister. Dawn's voice was quiet. "Wow, uh, hi, you guys." She didn't know what to say. "Oh, Amanda, you remember that time in Mr. Johnson's class when he said that the people in Ethiopia were starving and Catie Mackenzie thought it was because Ethiopia was like some poor, Indie band without a label? And during the sleepover when Molly dared Dani to…?" Given the way her sister was staring, she had a feeling going further would be the wrong thing. "N-never mind. Just tell everyone we'll miss them, that they were amazingly brave, and that Buffy promises never to make another speech again." She ignored her sister's gasp. "Mommy? If Spike's with you, watch out for him, okay? He did buttloads, um, I mean tons, for us. Of good things. Including helping Buffy while we were kinda being stupid, so…please?" Smile. "And Anya? You were pretty crazy…but I shoulda realized sooner that you were pretty awesome, too. We love you guys."

The blonde held the brunette close as they cried together. "Can't top that, and I won't try." Then she set her rose down. "But we survived this long, we won, because you all were a part of our lives and got us here. So if there was a grand plan, you were definitely the important pieces…I know it in my heart. Thank you." Her expression darkened. "Though it'd be nice if the whole concept of 'dying' didn't exist, cause then I wouldn't have to do this." She took a shuddering breath. "I'm sorry."

After Buffy and Dawn moved away to allow Giles his turn to speak or whatever he chose to do, their father figure stood viewing the memorial solemnly, waiting for rehearsed words that wouldn't come. He thought of Jenny, Joyce, and Anya above all, as he knew them best out of those listed. Though he did offer his sincerest apologizes to Spike, because if not for him, they wouldn't be here. He knew he'd grossly misjudged the vampire, and he also hadn't trusted Buffy's judgment, her ability to keep a level head – he couldn't help but feel partly responsible for her near unraveling close to the end.

There were repairs to be done, because he never wanted a scene such as the devastating one at the house, to ever happen again. Clearing his throat, he directed his attention back to the present.

Having made his peace with two of the women years ago, and not wishing to reopen those particular wounds, the Englishman thought on his once-employee, and smiled at the memory of her. She was quite an enigma, really. For someone who'd committed over a millennium's worth of horrible acts, she had an incredible innocence about her. If she were crass, or rude, or insulting, one couldn't stay mad at her, because very rarely did she realize when she'd crossed a social line. And most often, her outbursts came from a place of curiosity, as well as truth. It were these traits that made her so endearing.

Whether Anya knew of it consciously or not, she was always trying to learn. Learn about the species she'd harmed for so long. Perhaps that was her way of apologizing – understanding the complexities of people makes it harder to cause them pain. Guilt and self-punishment were unavoidable side effects, and though she didn't show outward signs, there were times when the shop was empty, when she was idly counting money at the register, that he could tell what went on behind her eyes. What did Anya have to show for her efforts? To him, she became more of a human being in four years, than most do in a lifetime.

She died as one, helping to save them all. With words failing him, a song entered his head then, which he uttered softly, almost to himself: "Can't forget…what happened yesterday…Though my friends say, don't look back…I can feel it, coming through me…Like an echo…Like a photograph…" He removed his glasses to wipe his watering eyes as he finished, and said in a choked voice, "Goodbye."

Soon he was at the center of a group bear hug, their eyes as red as his. The start of the rain signaled that was time to head inside, thankfully, because his circulation could return. Gentle dripping became a steady downpour within seconds, and Dawn and Xander were the first to rush inside. Willow just knelt by the flowers, ignoring the rain, telling them she'd be there in a while – she hadn't taken her turn yet. Buffy and Giles didn't protest; they found cover under the balcony, and watched in awe as the rain fell around the redhead.

"Neat." Buffy commented for both of them, while they continued to look on. They couldn't hear, though. Whatever was shielding the witch was soundproof as well as waterproof, or they would've noticed the greeting of, 'Hi, Baby.'

Giles broke himself out of his mournful state when his thoughts drifted to the future. He'd tried to plan a course of action all day, but had hit a snag that he truly could've used Anya's help with. "Buffy, I, uh…I've been trying to think of ways to get in touch with and organize these new slayers, wherever they may be. They need training, they need to be properly stationed in the more…demon-intensive areas…in short, I'd like to form a new Council. But, hopefully it wouldn't be as – "

"Asinine as the original?" The slayer quipped, and then congratulated herself. "Finally used 'asinine' in a sentence…yay me." She paused. "All right, half a sentence."

"I'm very proud." He said, sardonically, before concentrating on his point. "If we could move on? I was able to wrest a good deal of money from the Council's accounts before leaving England, though it won't do much good in the long term – not to mention that we're sorely lacking resources of any kind. I do have a few contacts, but none, I doubt, who would want to join in on…such a risky undertaking." He sighed. "The Council's capital came from persons and demons older than I, with similar, outdated ideas. I'd have very little incentive to offer."

"That's not true. You're…a go-getter. That's gotta count for something." She tried to weakly lift his spirits, while considering the options. "So you need a backer. How about the government? They're over the whole, 'Science! Wow!' phase, big on extermination. I could give Riley a call at…uh, I don't think it's *really* a flower shop, but maybe it's a side thing. For pocket money. Anyway, he might know the right people to ask. They might be interested; probably make sure it's all hushed, too."

"It's worth a try." He responded, feeling somewhat better about things. "In the meantime, perhaps Willow can…ah, post a notice to the Internet asking for – "

"Uh uh. Bad idea." Buffy interrupted him, derailing that idea fast. "You don't say, 'Looking for young, limber girls with special talents,' on the Internet. Unless you're desperate, disturbingly perverted, have a potbelly, and don't mind doing jail time. Age not a factor."

Giles coughed. "I suppose that will have to wait, then."

"Better idea." Could he tell that she really didn't want to talk shop as they headed inside? She wanted far away from shop. "Uh, Giles? You were joking about Cleveland, right?"

He looked hurt. "Yes, of course it was a joke. I figured it was obvious." Who would put a Hellmouth there?

"Sorry." She apologized, trying to hold back a laugh. "But you're rarely funny. Maybe if you worked on it…"

Now he stared at her in disbelief. "What do you mean? I've been funny on a number of occasions; it isn't my fault if you didn't appreciate them."

"No…no, you're right. You have." She conceded quickly, and innocently posed, "Were, um, any of those occasions intentional?"

"What about with Xander, out-outside just now, and-and when I – ?" The poor man was flustered; he wanted to prove that he was humorous.

"Oh, come on. Anybody can be sarcastic and quippy. Besides, Xander's an easy target." She told him, pretending to be unimpressed. "I dunno, maybe I just don't get British humor. From this side of the ocean, it looks like the only thing you guys laugh at over there, are naked people. How am I supposed to know?" She raised her hand. "American."

His face was red with embarrassment. "You can't be serious."

Dropping the charade, she smiled at him. "Nope. I'm not." Standing on the tips of her toes, she gave him a kiss on the cheek. "Don't ever change, Giles." Then she went upstairs.

As he smiled, Lorne walked over, bringing a halt to the poker game, with glass in hand. "Sea Breeze?"

Some twenty minutes later, Willow joined Gunn, Fred, and three slayers in Angel's room, where the video game tournament was still going strong, the title still not having switched hands. Talking in the courtyard to a hopefully listening Tara, she could've sworn that she felt the other witch's calming presence nearby (she hadn't since her death), that the air was filled with energy…but it had to be just her imagination. Nevertheless, she came away unsure, doubtful, which wasn't helping. Even as one-sided as the conversation had been, she remained connected and amazingly open to her former lover, discussing everything.

The events of the past year, how much she missed her, how much she loved her. When Kennedy was the topic, she admitted that though she cared for the girl and was grateful, it wasn't the same as what they had. Nothing ever would be, but the way Kennedy looked at her, with total adoration, was something she hadn't been able to match yet. With Tara it wasn't a question, it was just there, but Kennedy wasn't Tara. Being so preoccupied with the First, it hadn't concerned her before; however, their situation had changed.

Time – she only had to give it time. She could concentrate on them now. Convincing herself of that for the moment, she put on a smile that was mostly genuine and sat on the arm of her girlfriend's chair, offering silent support as the virtual battle with Gunn raged on.

Faith turned to look at her from the floor, where she lay on her stomach next to Buffy, and grabbed a beer out of the case that sat on her other side. "Might as well catch up."

Willow accepted the alcoholic beverage just as Buffy and Fred frantically screamed, "Turn, quick! He's gonna fire!" That's when Kennedy's chosen vehicle, Warthog, blew into pieces.

"Jackass." The new slayer grumbled, knowing it wouldn't affect him. He'd heard worse from Faith throughout the night. So she just pulled the witch onto her lap, and handed the controller over to Faith.

Pausing in her leg duel with the blonde – whoever knocked the other person's socks off first, in the literal sense, won – the elder brunette held the empty bowl of pretzels that she and Buffy devoured, up to the reigning champion. "Refill it, will ya, Mos Def? We're out. But when you get back, this is gettin' settled."

He went without argument, as this was their way to humble him just a bit. It didn't matter that he could wipe the floor with their pixels, because they could still force him to retrieve snacks under threat of physical violence. But he had to let them know, "If Angel didn't get cheap on us and pay for this ancient-ass coaster, I could hook up the multitap and be wastin' all yas at once in Black." He was out of the room before any of the thrown pairs of shoes could connect with his head.

"Damn cue ball," Faith grumbled, having had just about enough, "knockin' a modern classic like that."

"Playing the new one would've been cool, though." Kennedy had to concede.

Buffy saw the break in the action as an opportunity to finally have a question answered. "Where was I when Angel joined this century?"

"Uh, well, you were in Sunnydale, B, and…he was here." Her partner spoke like she was addressing a child. "In LA. It's a city. Lotsa streets and stuff, ya know? Tall buildings…"

"Bitch." The blonde stuck her tongue out and kicked Faith in the leg.

While Fred explained something about how the Wolfram and Hart contract promised them signing bonuses in the form of cashiers checks, and how their boss went on an 'Electronics Impulse-Buying Spree,' Willow was more interested in the easy rapport of once enemies, which gave the impression that it had existed for far longer than supposed, factual history would lead her to believe. She'd had her suspicions for years concerning certain things that might've taken place, things that were named once she became aware of her gaiety, but most of all, there was simply an enviable comfortableness between them.

And though it appeared to just spring up out of thin air, she knew it had always been present; it was just never permitted to be felt or seen before. Well, she was seeing it now, in all its subtle glory. On the less-obvious end of the scale, the proof was in the fact that they were laughing and talking in close bodily proximity, with their shoulders in a loose, relaxed state. On the extreme end, they were playing 'Footsie,' for Goddess' sake. A more, competitive, rough-around-the-edges brand to be sure, but 'Footsie' nonetheless. Not that she was anti-feet, but come on, it was Buffy and Faith. Weirder still?

Buffy was smiling. From plain-old, normal enjoyment of life. Specifically, enjoyment of 'Video Game Bonding.' Surprise, surprise.

"How's the other game going?" Fred asked the witch, bringing her out of her musings. "Downstairs. Did you see?"

Willow smirked, remembering how the men frowned at her as she re-entered the lobby. "If Dawnie keeps winning, she's gonna have a pretty hefty college fund. 'Male pride' is so fragile." It changed into a smile as she hesitantly explained, "She used to play Poker with Spike all the time."

It relieved her when her friend didn't sink into depression at the mention of his name. "There's no way he taught her how to win, though. Spike sucked at it." She grinned at the personal memory. "He was always losing kittens."

Faith shrugged. "Least he could still suck somethin'. Nah, wait…" She remembered hearing of the sexcapades then, much to her delight. "You two boinked regular, yeah? Had to be some sucking somewhere – he do most of it, or was it fifty-fifty?"

A week ago that would've gotten her a punch in the jaw, but Buffy's response was verbal, spoken through grinning lips. "I don't care how sex-starved you are, I'm not giving you fantasy-fuel, so you can forget it. Want help? Rent a porno."

"Your call – I'd edit out Billy Bleach-Head, anyway. I like feelin' that warmth where it counts. Fred knows, don'tcha, Tex?" The brunette countered with a wink, making the skinnier one blush. "'Sides, couple visuals of you is all I need."

"That so?"

"Doesn't mean I didn't get any action on the Block; girl's gotta take pleasure when she can." The Bostonian must have had that grin patented she was so good at it.

"Liar." The petite slayer called her bluff. "You know you were totally celibate."

Faith raised her eyebrows. "I was?"

"Yes. One, because it's…seriously unsanitary." Buffy made a 'yuck' face. "And two, cause you don't like *women*. Do you?"

Willow couldn't help but notice the emphasis on the plural noun and the intense gaze while they waited for confirmation, which came as a shaking head. Kennedy's reply to this was, "Geez, I was starting to think we weren't the only lesbians in the room."

Her girlfriend reminded the slayers that they weren't having a private conversation, and Willow filed this away as Fred volunteered, "Well, I-I think I'm bi, most likely, cause in high school, my friends and I, we'd hang out and smoke weed and usually do…things. *Lots*. At least till the bag was empty. It was fun and we weren't hurtin' nobody; pot's really not as evil as people say. I mean, I didn't think it was so terrible." She giggled secretively, breaking to sip her beer. "But one day I came to class stoned. Like, so completely baked. I forget what happened exactly, but I do remember that it wasn't the smartest decision ever, cause they told my folks. Then I, uh, sorta had to stop for a while. Until college, anyway."

When the stunned silence lifted, Faith was the first to laugh, and then they all did. The kind where it seems impossible to stop; at the end, she had an apology to give. "I was totally off about you. Somewhere *far*. Anybody asked, I woulda sworn you were as laced as they come – like these two." She gestured to Buffy and Willow. "Before they started doin' all sorts of wild and freaky – "

"Kennedy!" Willow exclaimed, seeing the guilty look immediately. "You didn't…did you? Cause, you-you can't! Private bedroom stuff is supposed to stay…private bedroom stuff! Goddess, that's like, an-an unspoken rule. Big and important, like all unspoken rules. But you just went ahead and broke it, a-and – "

"And I was bragging." Her girlfriend said, trying to lighten the blow of her mistake with a kiss. "Because you're talented. She's a majorly horny ex-con, who hasn't had sex since she got out; except with a guy, which doesn't count at all. See? That's why I had to rub it in." She pouted like a scolded puppy. "It was fun, and I couldn't pass it up – forgive me?"

"No, I'm a fugitive." Faith corrected, as if she were proud of it. "Least till tomorrow when I'm sprung officially. Angel's workin' the system." She looked up at Fred, grinning. "Wanna celebrate? Show me some of those things? Buffy here might wanna test you, though. To make sure you're clean. She's into my sex-life now; doesn't want me catching."

"Don't worry, I'm very squeaky these days." Fred promised, glad Gunn wasn't here for this part. They'd 'made up,' if that was the right term, but the awkwardness did still pop in to cause friction occasionally.

Buffy had tuned out the conversation after the Physics prodigy's story. Her eyes were on the car selection screen of Twisted Metal 2, which triggered something. She'd been spending the past couple minutes wracking her brain until the pieces came together, and now she excitedly gripped Faith's arm, and whispered into her ear.

Then the other slayer ditched the discussion, eyes wide and gleaming. "Son of a bitch…I forgot that code! How'd you even…?"

"A kid I used to counsel at school would only talk to me if we spent half the time on video games and reading magazines. Guess it just stuck." The blonde shrugged.

"You rock, B."

"I'm aware." Grin. "Hurry, I hear him coming. Put it in." It was entered and the car was selected, much to the devilish delight of all the vengeful females in the room.

Anya would've felt right at home.

"All we got left is corn chips. So eat up and let's go." Gunn announced, chucking the bowl in Faith's direction. The brunette caught it easily as he headed for his seat. "Dunno why you keep comin'. You know I'm just gonna school you – for the hundredth time tonight."

"Where's the salsa?" Buffy inquired, searching for necessary dipping condiment and not finding it.

Hearing that just added fuel to the fire for Faith. "Park it, Shaft-Lite, and get ready to burn." She grinned wickedly. "Anything goes."

The thrashing didn't take but a minute or so. Gunn froze the instant he saw the giant, black battle-tank, Minion, on the top half of the television screen. Faith rammed and fired her way to a quick, yet satisfying victory. Releasing the controller, she high-fived her partner in crime, and breathed in the suddenly sweeter air, amid the cheers. The black man would eventually rise and go home, maybe do some pushups, forgetting this ever happened.

"Now I'm hungry…we're going for Chinese. Oughta be enough time to explain the Sherlocks' little soap opera. Trust me, it's wicked fucked." She told the blonde, getting them both to their feet. "Not tired, are ya?"

"Wide awake. Egg rolls are my weakness." Buffy was all for it. "Which you know."

"Yeah, hafta give you props somehow. I wouldn't've stomped him without you, and nothing says 'thanks for the assist' better than Tsao." There was another thing that did, but that wasn't in the cards right now. Faith cleared her throat. "You got cash, right?" She got an eye-roll as they followed the girlfriends out into the hallway.

"We'll be busy for the next couple hours." Kennedy smirked, a playful glint in her eye as she dragged the redhead along. "But save us the leftovers."

The slayers exchanged grins because they knew there wouldn't be any, before it occurred to Buffy that, "We don't drive." Faith missed her point. "It's still raining."

Fred jogged up from behind with a remedy to their problem. "Hey, I have an umbrella. If you get me tacos on the way back…"

"Mexican sounds good, too…deal." The older said, chuckling as their helpful, new friend went to get their protection.

"She's cool." The younger's companion nodded agreeably. "But I'm outta practice, and she's not the way to go. Maybe when we find the place…" She trailed off, thinking to herself. "Aren't Chinese guys the ones who know all those positions?"

"You're thinking of Indians. They wrote that book – The Lama Suitor. Or something. I should really get into the 'Reading Craze' before it dies out."

"You sure? I thought they made that spicy crap."

"I dunno – might be Thai. But so what?"

"Cause if you spend all your time spicin' up food, the sex can't be that great."

Buffy shook her head after a second. "How come I get the feeling that logic, no matter hard it tries, won't ever be able to save this conversation?"

"Here you go!" Fred raced back to them and handed over the umbrella to Faith, who began to twirl it and hum, 'I'm Singin' in the Rain.' She handed money to Buffy. "I like the soft shells."

When the humming became lyrics, the petite slayer groaned. Was it too late to go back to being mortal enemies?

Duly impressed, Faith exhaled as they entered the lobby of Wolfram and Hart's former L.A. branch the following afternoon, which was now Angel's new headquarters. Her brows came together in appreciation when she felt the plush carpeting underneath her feet. "Daaaaaaamn." She whistled and looked around, watching the endless stream of people rush by them, until she spotted a semi-familiar figure.

"Nice to see you again, too." Lilah drawled, having heard Faith's comment as she crossed the short distance from the reception desk to where Angel's ragtag, 'Band of Misfits: The Next Generation' was congregating. "While I am still flattered by your…interest in me, I just don't see it working out. And yes, I know 'persistence' is usually a virtue…for a fact actually, but – "

"Unless you wanna lose it again, Marie," Faith drew her finger across her neck with a smile, "your hole should be shutting, *now*. Cause you know, I'm impulsive – in a, 'Oh God, that hurts, make the pain stop' kinda way."

"You do like them feisty, don't you?" Lilah responded, smiling as her gaze momentarily wandered between Buffy, who merely raised a contemptuous eyebrow at her, and Faith, before settling on Angel.

"I can handle the tour this time," The vampire finally piped up, brushing past Lilah and motioning for the others to follow him, "thanks." He somehow managed to make the word sound both mocking and dismissive.

Lilah remained quiet, though her smirk was firmly in place as he and the gang continued into the office, watching as Buffy closed the distance between her and the other slayer, and then leaned so that virtually no space existed between them to whisper almost directly into her ear. "Hmmm," The 'dead' woman purred, her smile growing as the feisty brunette turned to respond, all the while maintaining their intimate position, "if I cared, I'd probably exploit that." Besides, she'd be needed down below soon.

"As fascinating as the many shiny, and 'pushy' buttons on this cappuccino," Giles started, the last word coming out with considerable distaste, "maker may be, I think we're all a bit more curious to learn how you're able to walk through this building without experiencing a horrible, blistering, fiery death." He finished, noting with some satisfaction that almost immediately Angel stopped running his hands over the machine.

"Sure, that could be…informative, too." Angel acknowledged, slowly inching himself away from the refreshment table as his keen detecting skills observed the visitors exchanging amused looks at his perfectly reasonable appreciation for such a finely crafted apparatus. Straightening his jacket, he began to speak again as he strode into the center of the room. "Whole building's fitted with necro-tempered glass – thirty percent more energy efficient and that means," He paused to glance back at the man who criticized his tour-guiding skills, "no chance of a horrible, blistering, fiery death."

"Way to go with the imagery there, Taster's Choice." Faith quipped, winking at Angel before quickening her step to catch up, slapping him on the back as the group continued through the lounge area and out into the second floor hallway.

"Taster's…?" Giles started to ask, but then he shook his head and quieted down, because he didn't want to know.

"Why didn't we ever think of that?" Buffy wondered, looking over at Willow.

"So much to mock, so little time; we were bound to miss a few." The redhead answered, smiling at the blonde. "At least someone was here to pick up the slack."

"The power of positive thinking." Buffy smiled, glad her best friend had accompanied them. "You amaze me, Will. Plus, it's nice to know we're keeping her around for a reason."

"Yeah, I'm so sure that's why." Willow mumbled under her breath, smirking as Buffy bounced on her feet in attempt to keep the rest of their party in view amidst the throng of people scurrying about. She was fairly certain there was another reason they were keeping Faith around; the evidence last night made that clear. If her friend wasn't so dense, or decided to stop the selective denial…'Sweet, sweet, simple Buffy.' She sighed to herself, shaking her head.

"What was that?"

"Nothing." Willow assured her, brightly. "Look, they're over there."

"Go, go Gadget…laser crotch web…thing." Buffy sputtered rather lamely as she watched a series of lights shoot out from just below Fred's waist, and spiral into a mesh-like design. "What *is* that?" A slightly alarmed and scared expression spread across her features while Fred beamed and Willow nodded her head excitedly as the two conversed, caught in the thrall of 'Geeker Joy.'

"A 'Laser-Crotch Web' thing." Faith stated easily as she leaned against the lab's back wall with Buffy. "You don't have?" She feigned a surprised look. "I'm telling ya, you're missing out. After you've gone 'Laser-Crotch,' everything else is ass soup."

"How did you ever become so extremely helpful?" Buffy's voice dripped with sarcasm as she glared.

"'Murder Rehab.'" The ex-con replied instantly, her eyes glued to her boot as she tapped it rhythmically on the tile floor.

"Really?"

"Nah – just, when I don't have anything else, it's a handy fall back." The brunette grinned over at the petite slayer a second later. "You'd be surprised where that can fit in."

Buffy shook her head, trying not to smile. "Suddenly wishing…Oh. My. God…Whatthehellaretheydoing?!?" Buffy exclaimed, eyes landing on Willow and Fred. The Texan's back was facing them, but she could make out Willow on her knees in front of the aforementioned southerner, leaning forward so that her face was almost in…in…*There*.

Faith raised her eyebrows slightly, her only reaction a sly grin. "Who knew science had perks?" She asked her fellow spectator, lewdly; she chuckled when the blonde rolled her eyes. "You started it."

"You made it dirty…er." Buffy realized that she did kind of start it.

"I'm spic and span, baby." Faith protested, raising her hands up. "I mean, she's just examining a crotch laser. You're the one that had to go rollin' in it."

"You totally rolled." Buffy accused, knowing Faith had planted her mind firmly in the gutter. "You can't not roll in it; you have a pass so you can roll in it year-round. You're so roll-happy that that's where you have to read your mail. Probably got dirty envelopes all over the place…those poor Hallmark cards." She saw the Bostonian smirk and cock her head as if to concede the point.

Faith scanned the lab quietly, though she could feel Buffy's eyes on her, so she struggled to keep her expression neutral. Any second Buffy was going to begin wondering if she had really been right about her being in the gutter, then she'd feel bad for assuming that the brunette only thought about sex… "Wanna examine my crotch laser?" Dead on, perfect timing – deserved a mental, pat on the back, because Buffy narrowed her eyes and started walking away. "Ah, come on; I'm sorry." Touching the blonde's shoulder lightly, she continued when she had her attention again. "That was wrong. We're supposed to be trying a new foot, and here I am being all selfish." She sounded sincere, like she was seeking penance. "*I'll* examine *your* crotch laser. See? I can give when I want to."

Buffy opened her mouth, her face a mask of indignant outrage, but after a second of thought, she closed it. "I can't even be offended by you anymore." She breathed out, looking confused. "I mean it – I think about responding and all my brain has to say is, 'Eh.' That's it; I've become immune."

"Let's blow." Faith was bored by the revelation. It wasn't possible: her sexual innuendos were like viruses. They'd grow, evolve, and offend yet again. She was sure of it.

"What?" Buffy squeaked, apparently not as immune as she believed.

"Busted." Faith grinned, but quickly dropped it, deciding to be a humble winner. "Let's get outta here, B; it's boring and nobody's into us. Dunno why, cause we're stacked."

Angel and Giles were tentatively poking at the keyboard of a computer under the watchful eye of a technician, while Fred and Willow talked softly, giggling often and pointing at strange objects located on top of the bench beside them.

"What'd you have in mind?"

Faith wiggled her brow mischievously. "Stuff."

"Wacky stuff?" Buffy asked, straightening up and pushing off the wall.

"Crazy insane."

"I'm in."

"We are so bad." Buffy declared, carefully peeking her head around the corner to watch the chaos they had just caused in the lunchroom. "Everybody's like, 'huh,' 'where,' 'I don't understand.' Suckers." She watched as the co-workers conversed with themselves and gestured wildly, pointing and throwing their hands up in the air. "Now they totally have to pour some milk in and *then* get a whole different carton and pour some cream in! It's mayhem in there…pure mayhem." Stealing the Half-and-Half was her idea, and proud she was.

Faith gurgled a reply, which the blonde assumed was disinterest, because she wasn't looking. "Oh come on, you know it was great, and…what are you doing?" Her sentences ran together as she viewed her accomplice gulping from a container.

"Thirsty." The brunette answered as if it was a perfectly reasonable explanation. "You?" She offered the drink to Buffy, who just stared. "More for me." She chugged again, and then tossed the empty container on the floor. "We should steal all the toilet paper on the fourth floor."

"Why the fourth?"

"Because it's below the fifth?" Faith shrugged as she stared into the distance. "Besides, never liked fours all that much." She added, shifting her gaze to hold the blonde's eyes.

"Am I supposed to ask how come, or…?" Buffy couldn't believe that everyone in high school thought *she* was the weird one. 'High functional schizophrenic' her ass – she was so completely the normal…ish one.

"You wanna steal the toilet paper or not?" Faith didn't address the question. What was the point? Nobody understood.

"Can we turn all the hand dryers on?"

"Whatever hikes your skirt, B."

"Let's do it." Buffy agreed, leading the way to the elevators after Faith snatched herself another carton for the road.

"I already pushed it." Faith said peevishly as Buffy jabbed the 'Up' button repeatedly.

"Drink your cream." The blonde retorted, pushing the button again, and smiling when the brunette's eyes narrowed.

"It's not gonna – " Lowering the carton she had begun to drink from during Buffy's comeback, Faith ate her words as the doors to the elevator opened, and the petite annoyance looked far too pleased with herself. "Shut up." Was all she said as they stepped into the elevator.

"You're so cranky all the time." Buffy commented as she turned to the button panel. "Maybe we should warm that up for you," She glanced at the Half-and Half, "just in time for your afternoon nap."

"*Siesta*." Faith corrected, grumbling. "And they were mandatory. Don't diss me cause I followed 'The Con Day-Planner.'" She frowned as Buffy reached for a button. "I'm pushing." She announced petulantly, slapping the smaller hand away.

The blonde looked at the back of her hand, surprised, and then over at Faith as she reached for the button, defiant. "No, *I'm* pushing. Put that in your planner." She knocked the competing hand down, stared challengingly at its owner.

"Somebody stole it." Faith emphasized 'stole' somewhat bitterly. "So I'm jus' gonna hafta do my thing." She grasped Buffy's wrist as she reached for the button again. "Which means, the button is mine."

"We'll go to the mall tomorrow, I'll buy you a 'Hello Kitty Fantasy Pack,' and you'll be footloose and fancy free." Buffy offered, in mid-struggle. She'd managed to get one of her hands around the brunette's wrist too, so they were basically pushing and squeezing each other, getting no closer to the button. "But you are *not* pushing that button."

"Am."

"Not." The blonde fired back, trying to lean her upper body towards the panel. If she could get her nose by…

"AM."

"NOT."

"AM."

"NOT."

"You're short!" Faith exclaimed, smiling when Buffy loosened her grip, being shocked by the attack on her height. "Ha!" Triumphant, she extended her finger towards its prize.

"Birthing hips!" Buffy shouted, sticking out her own finger to do battle, as the brunette shot her an, 'I don't think so' look. "Yeah, you!" Both of them randomly poked at the button panel, mostly scratching each other, but occasionally they connected with some buttons; of course, neither could say which ones.

"What's that?" Faith asked suddenly, calling an end to the duel.

"You were gonna bite me." Buffy stated matter-of-factly, having seen Faith's mouth moving for her finger prior to the distraction.

"You wish."

Buffy stared at her for a minute, hard – Faith had definitely been primed for biting, which she did *not* wish for. Eventually she got over it, and immediately spotted what had captured Faith's attention on the panel. "White Room." The large button that would take them there had appeared at the top. She remembered Angel's 'cue-card' tour.

"Score." Faith smacked the 'secret' button with the side of her fist, and within a moment, they were blinded by light.

Buffy extended her hand, feeling around for where the interior of the elevator should have been, only to feel and see nothing. Glancing over at Faith, who was slowly moving towards the center of the room sipping from her drink, she uttered disappointedly, "I really thought it'd be whiter." And she was more than a little disquieted to hear that her voice didn't reverberate like it normally would've in an empty space.

"This is wicked creepy." Faith spoke a moment later, turning around to face her companion before stepping up to her.

"I know." Buffy exhaled, actually relieved to feel the presence near her. "It's like we're alone…completely alone."

Faith smirked a bit. "Well, we kinda…are."

"Thank you, 'Miss Takes Things Too Literally.'" The blonde said, showing off her 'Not Amused' face. "I happened to be speaking…not-literally."

"Clears it up." Faith snickered, sarcastic, which drew an unimpressed look her way. She sighed, hating to see that; it made her sad for some reason. "Not-literally alone, literally alone…what's it matter? We're still hot chicks with super powers."

Buffy recalled the last time she heard these words, and she looked at her fellow slayer with a now, affectionate expression. "Takes the edge off."

"Just comforting."

"Uh huh." The blonde allowed them to lapse into silence briefly, so they could bask in their own wit and enjoy each other's company. "We should get back." She shook her head at the room in general, letting it know that it didn't meet her expectations.

"There you go again." Faith exclaimed, though she did turn her head slightly to look for a way out. "Why you always be dissin' Whitey?"

"Coming from the Ghetto Superstar, that hurts…not at all, actually." Buffy replied, backtracking to their entry point to feel around for an invisible something that might help.

"Don't be playa hatin'." Faith tried not to laugh at the sight of Buffy caressing thin air.

"I don't hate the playa; I be hatin' on the game…dawg." The elder slayer's hand jerked back suddenly when it connected with that invisible something, and the air began to shimmer, revealing an open elevator door when it was all shimmered out.

Faith calmly stepped into the elevator as if she had expected it to show up that very moment, though she did pat the problem solver on the back as if to say, 'Well done.' "The dif between me and you is, I can talk 'Street.' But you, you go 'B-Rad' on everyone's ass."

"Are you saying I'm not fly?" Buffy asked, quirking an amused eyebrow.

"To me, you're flying high." Faith told her with sincerity, causally draping an arm around the blonde's shoulder and squeezing her body playfully. "Which is saying somethin', considering you're a major, HelL-A brat." She added, simply smiling when hazel eyes rolled at her. "And even though you're tricked out on that 'Sweet Valley High' crap, we can still hang. My hand to…whatever the hell's up there, I *swear* I'll get you help." She offered graciously, clicking finger guns at Buffy as she backed out of the open doors. "I'm…holy shit!" She whirled around to see ten security guards surrounding the elevator, all of whom had actual guns and assorted weapons pointed at them.

Faith dropped to the ground, her right hand coming to rest on the back of her head, her left extending to point at the blonde. "She did it."

Buffy, who had raised her hands as well but remained upright, incredulously turned her gaze to Faith, who was totally punking her out. "She's got a record!" Pointed right back. "Look at her – did you see how she hit the deck? She's obviously done hard time, tasted steel." She rambled, imploring the guards to aim their guns in a direction that was not at her.

"Tasted steel?" Faith started to flip around so that she could face her accuser, but then she returned to her 'Don't shoot me' position when one of the guards waved his weapon at her in a manner that did not inspire her confidence. "We live, you're hanging by yourself." She muttered, the comment directed at Buffy, knowing that it would be heard.

The girl was beyond help.

"I'm not the one about to get a cavity search." Buffy sing-songed, unfazed by the jibe.

Though it seemed like they were at odds, the slayers were ready to come to the other's aid, should they have to.

"I wouldn't be so sure about that, Sweet Cheeks." A female guard interjected, reaching for a pair of handcuffs with her eyes trained on Buffy, who found herself with nothing to say.

"But…I was a cheerleader." The nicknamed choked out as two guards slowly approached her, and she gulped as Faith was being unceremoniously hauled to her feet, chuckling. "What're you laughing at?"

"You're a clencher, I can tell." It was all Faith needed to say for the other detainee to whip her head around and gape at the guards that were inching ever so nearer.

Unconvincingly, "They wouldn't."

"Oh, they would." Came a familiar voice from the side. Both girls saw Angel calmly strolling up to them and their new friends. "Come here." Stopping, he crooked two fingers, beckoning them before nodding at the guards to let them go. Once the troublemakers stood in front of him, he placed his hands on each of their shoulders and shook his head, beginning to speak in a stern, fatherly voice. "Do you have any idea how difficult it is to reform an evil law firm? Believe it or not, the answer would be, 'Very.' There's constantly factors to consider; too many, but hey, I've got nothing better to do with my eternal life, so I might as well give it a try."

"That's good; you should challenge yourself once in a while." Buffy encouraged.

"If it isn't a bitch, it isn't worth doin'." Faith had modified it, but she was sure that she'd originally adopted the saying from someplace. Proverbs were cool.

He bit the inside of his cheek in frustration, before continuing like they hadn't interrupted. "Wanna know my biggest problem right now? Turns out the demon running the mailroom can't stand the sound of human laughter, which has gotta be ironic somehow; I just wish, *certain people* would've mentioned it when I took the job." Pausing briefly to stop himself from ranting, he also let it dawn on the girls. "Thanks to you two, everyone in the building knows not to do what you've been doing for the last hour – guess what I'm talking about." His posture said, 'We both know you don't need to.' "That's right, and it's," He drew the word out as the slightest hint of a very rare, pleading whine laced his words, betraying his authoritative exterior, "not good. So could ya knock it off?"

Buffy and Faith nodded vigorously. "Yeah."

He squeezed their shoulders with a satisfied smile, and waved the guards off. "Hurry up, the others are waiting."

"Hey, Hair Gel," Faith called out as they began to follow him down the hallway, "you got any more Half-and-Half around here?" Angel looked over at her curiously. "Left mine in the White Room."

"She was thirsty." Buffy supplied the explanation, exchanging a look with the vampire before bumping her shoulders against Faith's, playfully.

"You're so judgmental." The brunette's tone was equally light. "'Don't kill people,' 'Don't sleep with my boyfriends,' 'Don't drink Half-and-Half,' 'Put down my underwear.' Jesus…lighten up."

Faith paused in the doorway as she noticed Angel step off to the side and rest his shoulder against the wall. Returning her eyes to Buffy, Willow and Giles for a moment while they walked into the room where Cordelia lay, she then stepped back herself and turned to face the vampire, speaking low. "You coming?"

"No."

Despite the casualness of his stance, she could tell that he was feeling restless, stressed. She'd never spent much time around Angel and Cordelia together; she hadn't seen them interact. Why? Because the first time she'd come to L.A., she was too busy trying to kill him, and knocking her unconscious. However, during her brief period with 'Team: Angel' a few weeks ago, she'd gotten the impression that the two had become tight over the years. Which meant it had to be killing him to see her like this. Probably brought up weepy emotions and shit. She didn't blame him – if things were reversed, she wouldn't have gone in there with a bunch of other people around, either.

Turning to the doorway once more, Faith took a step forward to enter, freezing a mere, couple paces in. The atmosphere of the room had surrounded her like a damp mist. Standing around the side of Cordelia's bed looking down at her, the three other visitors were unnervingly quiet and still. Too quiet, as it made the sound of her heart beating seem loud and harsh.

"I just saw her." Willow breathed out softly, reaching out as if she were going to touch Cordelia's hand, but stopping before actual contact. "We, caught up, you know. Laughed. Brainstormed a little. She was almost…glowing."

She knew now that it hadn't really been Cordy she was talking to when she'd come to return Angel's soul, but in a way, it didn't matter, because it had been at the time. Her and Cordelia…old friends catching up. And that's what she retained, the warmth of that moment, the pleasantness, the comfort of someone so familiar. It had been real for her, and that's what hurt so much – her last, most pleasant moment with Cordelia, hadn't been with Cordelia at all.

"I couldn't tell; I should have…" She paused, closing her eyes. They'd known each other since Kindergarten, why didn't she see? If she had… "I might've been able to…" Overwhelmed by it all, she trailed off once again.

It was Cordelia. A person who wasn't silent, who wasn't supposed to be a shell lying on a bed…it was Cordelia.

"This should never have happened." Buffy whispered, studying the ex-cheerleader's face and its smooth, lifeless features. Then she turned her head to the side slightly, her jaw tensing as she blinked rapidly, eyes stinging with unshed tears. "She should've been…she would've been…safe. Never like…" Her thoughts sunk below the surface, and she lost the words. Sucking in a breath, she looked back at the comatose woman, shoulders rigid.

"Buffy – " The redhead started to protest, placing her hand on her friend's shoulder upon hearing the closed off self-blame.

"Don't, Will." The blonde interrupted, drawing away from that supportive hand. She wasn't sure she could've talked much more anyway, even if she wanted to.

It felt like lead weights had been attached to every limb of her body, when she'd just gotten rid of them – funny, in a sad kind of way. Yesterday the world had near literally been those weights, but a thwarted apocalypse, a clean shower and a good night's sleep, helped it seem as though there'd only been air on her back. What caused them to come crashing down again? Walking in and seeing Cordelia lifeless. As a bonus, because she wasn't expecting it, the ache was harder and more painful than it ever was yesterday.

Death and destruction; those were her gifts which she'd given to Cordelia, wrapped in pretty paper with a bow the very day they'd met. She'd cursed the beauty queen, bringing nothing but misery and setting her on the path to this soft, comfy deathbed.

Faith's shoulders suddenly jerked in response to a slight pressure on her chest; she hadn't even realized she was moving. Looking sharply to her side, she saw Willow standing just in front of her, lightly pressing and discouraging any further movement into the room. Movement towards Buffy. The witch just shook her head at the glare, her eyes staying on Faith even as the brunette lifted a hand up to remove hers.

The elder slayer was in a place where she wouldn't be receptive to anyone, Willow knew that. Time was needed to process, and they needed to leave and give it to her. Her best friend watched Faith lean forward then, as if she were going to continue into the room, as she took a few more steps towards her, and finally, as she stopped. She breathed deeply, willing herself not to go another inch.

Focusing her attention on Buffy – and Giles, who was now beside the blonde, his hand allowed to rest on her shoulder – the younger slayer bit her lip, needing to think. She was aware of Willow's presence and the inner-urge to simply walk over and do something…*anything*. Her partner was hurting; she could feel it battering against her senses, rolling off in waves. And if there was one thing she'd learned about herself, it was that she couldn't stand to see Buffy in this state. She wanted to make it end, but she'd have to do it standing there, which was impossible.

There was nothing she could do; this wasn't something she could save her from. Nor could she force Buffy to redirect her frustrations, like she'd done in the alleyway outside of the Bronze. Trying for a calming inhale, Faith viewed Giles with envy – he was Buffy's sentinel, her silent guardian. She wished she could be there in that capacity, but 'stillness' wasn't her nature. She might be able to manage it for a few minutes, until the desire to act, to attempt to make things better, to make Buffy better, overtook her. That'd make the situation worse.

Exhaling her frustration, Faith looked at Willow and nodded, before leaving.

The instant Willow closed the door behind them, Faith spun on her heel and punched the nearest wall savagely, and then ran an agitated hand through her hair. "I fucking hate…" She cut herself off in order to gain some control. "Why does she do this to herself?" Tossing her body against the wall, she folded her arms across her chest.

"She's always done this." The redhead sighed, keeping her distance. She didn't really like to be in close proximity when the brunette was all riled. "It's a slayer thing."

"No," Faith exclaimed more forcefully than she'd intended, looking over at Willow, "it's a Buffy thing." She continued in a more reasonable, though still frustrated tone.

Angel took a few steps towards the slayer as she quieted down, reaching out to place his hand on her shoulder, drawing her eyes over to him. He could feel her frustration in the tenseness of her muscles; she was coiled like a bow.

"It's not." Faith said softly, more assuring herself as she moved out from underneath her surrogate big brother's hand, somewhat calmer from the contact. "Why the hell does she think every fucking thing is her fault?"

"It's how she is." Angel responded almost in a whisper, his gaze momentarily drifting over to the closed door. "It's who she is."

"I got that, Holmes. Sorta hard to miss." Faith sighed, barely sparing him a look. "A goddamn drama queen." Just because she got it didn't mean she had to support the blonde's self-destructive qualities.

"The sash and tiara – " He started.

" – Probably got lost in the mail." The witch finished, smirking, and they were glad to see the slayer's stance relax and her shoulders loosen.

The three of them lapsed into silence after that, each lost in their own thoughts, before Willow spoke up. "She looked good." She did it more to break the quiet than anything else, which had become uncomfortable.

"She was in the bathroom for like a friggin' hour this morning – she should." Faith grumbled, rolling her eyes. "Came out looking like shit, then I'd be pissed."

"I was talking about Cordelia." Willow replied slowly, eyeing Faith as if the girl had gone insane…again.

"Right." The brunette replied immediately, with a quick glance of acknowledgement to the speaker, before looking away. "That's who I was talking about, too."

The redhead smirked at that, her eyes drifting over to the vampire who wore a similarly dubious expression on his face, the two of them enjoying a moment at Faith's expense while the person in question suddenly started down the hall. "Where're you going?"

"Get a sticky bun." Faith responded in a belabored tone, turning around. "Anyone else want?" She asked somewhat sarcastically, just wanting to get away, take a walk. Awkward silences weren't her thing, and besides, she hated feeling impotent, powerless.

"That'd be nice." Willow told her sweetly, smiling a moment later. "If there's any 'pecan' ones…yum. You could have them delivered right to the hallway, care of: Me."

The Bostonian stared at her until she couldn't stop the smirk from appearing. "Guess you want a plate too, huh? Princess?" Goddamn witches.

Shrug and another smile. "I'm high maintenance that way."

"No laughing!" Angel called after Faith as she resumed her trek down the hall.

"You know, occasionally? You're very strange." Willow commented. "Cause I don't think the chances of 'Laughter Gales' are super high right now."

"With those two…" There was skepticism in Angel's reply as he trailed off, watching Faith's figure disappear around the corner. "Do you get what's funny about cavity searches?"

"Are you okay?" She asked, turning to him, while he was still looking off in the distance. His mood could change that fast.

When he met her eyes, there was desperation written all over his expression. "Could you…I mean, would you want to…maybe see what you can do?" He knew she was powerful, more powerful than anyone at Wolfram and Hart, and he needed her to try. But she looked at him with puzzlement. "For Cordelia. Please."

Her heart broke when she heard the sadness there. "Could, would, and will…silly question. Of course I want to." She informed him. "Everybody wants her back, Angel, and I'm gonna stay till she really is. She'll wake up, promise." A little, encouraging smile. "I'll cast my darndest, but it won't be speedy – might take a while."

"Need a new head of our 'Mystical Division'…you want it, job's yours. There's good dental." He offered as a solution to the financial problem that would arise, and as an incentive. "The last one was a Naa'dek sorceress – lot of flash, not a lot of talent. She also thought vampires were polluting the demonic race…I didn't like having poisonous bile spit at me." He winced at the memory. "And her résumé was a flat out lie. I try to be a fair boss, but somebody always has to pull something. Ticks me off."

She waited a minute to let him cool down, and then responded. "I'll think about it." Making life-decisions a day out of Sunnydale wasn't wise. It was obvious, however, that his 'hurry' attitude came from caring deeply about Cordelia, and she had a good idea how deep that caring went. The stress of keeping this entire building functioning had to be growing on top of that, as well.

Angel focused on the small window in the door that allowed him to see Buffy and Giles, standing together by Cordelia. Part of him wanted to go in there and comfort her, just as Faith wanted to. And that made him remember the havoc they caused, making him smile wryly. "I knew if they ever got along they'd be…tough to deal with. But I never expected them to be so…"

"Rambunctious?" Willow supplied with a grin, able to follow easily, because the antics of the slayers had been on her mind all afternoon. "Nutty and happy?"

"Young."

"They are young, though. Young, youthful people. It's just kinda delayed; for all of us." She explained to him. "I think making up for lost time is a good thing – we should catch up. Well, everybody except you and Giles. Cause you might look goofy, being so ol…um, mature and-and wise and all. N-no offense or anything."

"None taken." Hiding the sting, he thought he'd adapted very well to the youth culture of this century. Had he or had he not bought himself a video game console?

"But you've picked up on it too, right? Between Buffy and – "

He interrupted her. "It's their lives. Whatever they wanna do, they can do." Looking at Willow, he attempted to brush the topic aside by acting nonchalant.

"Pretty sure I didn't ask that." Her voice was soft but firm.

Angel couldn't help the small smile of admiration that had come to his face. She'd grown up so much from that little girl who'd been scared to have a boy in her room after dark – now she was all forceful and woman-y.

"Yeah, I noticed, and if they wanna follow through, I'll be glad for them." He finally answered, hunching his shoulders a bit before shrugging.

"But?" Willow had caught that slight hesitation.

He skirted that question, instead choosing to further his previous words. "I want them to be happy; I don't care how, just that they are."

"Great, because they both…" She tapered off, leaving the already known, unsaid.

The witch and the vampire lapsed into a comfortable silence once more, after he nodded.

Faith turned her head, training her eyes on the door and watching it intently for a few seconds before it finally began to open. She stepped forward instinctively the second it did. Willow had gone off in search of Fred once the slayer returned with her pecan bun – complete with plate *and* napkin – while Angel stood near the end of the hall, conversing with an employee. So the only one stopping her from screwing this up was her, and her alone.

Giles exited the comatose brunette's room first, his eyes briefly catching the ones of the nervous slayer waiting outside of the door before walking to Angel, who immediately dismissed the guy from the Accounting department. The two men began to converse, and Buffy started to follow a few seconds later, but stopped her forward motion in the doorway. Torturing herself, she turned back around to look at the unresponsive Cordelia.

"Don't." Faith said softly, closing the distance between them so that they stood side-by-side, giving the appearance that they were blocking off the rest of the world.

The sound of Faith's voice so close to her, made her focus on her companion. And she was surprised by the fact that she wasn't the least bit surprised to find the Bostonian there. Taking a step back, a move Faith mirrored, she shut the door and remained still, staring at it. Knowing she was being watched closely, she then, without another moment's hesitation, faced the other slayer fully, removed the last centimeters of distance, and wrapped one arm around her neck and the other about her waist, drawing her into a tight hug.

Faith returned the hug with gusto, despite her surprise. She hadn't expected the contact, but she certainly wasn't going to do anything to end it. Was fantastic and long overdue. She couldn't remember ever being hugged for no apparent reason, and she definitely couldn't remember it coming from Buffy. But she'd remember this, because it made her feel proud. She was honored that she was able to do this for her – the only thing she wanted was to help.

It felt meaningful also, and for perhaps the first time in her life, she was willing to roll with 'meaningful' for a while, not discard it outright.

A whisper, "Thanks." Pulling back some, her head dipped down with a touch of embarrassment, though she didn't completely break contact with Faith's body.

"For…?" The brunette was genuinely curious, watching as the blonde's hand trailed down her arm and their fingers intertwined lightly.

"You know." Buffy stated, looking up and holding Faith's eyes with her own as her fingers dropped away, the physical contact finally broken. Yet she had just engaged the brunette in another sort of contact that was no less profound. "I know you really wanted to come in…I could feel it, how worried you were." She told her, her voice even lower than before. "But I needed some…well, you know." Smiling a little bit, she wondered if Faith's eyes had actually gotten lighter as she spoke, or if it was just her own mood that had improved.

"Yeah." Faith breathed out, smirking, glad to see a smile from her.

"Still, you could've stayed." The petite slayer amended, her tone serious again. "Wouldn't have minded."

"I would've." Faith admitted, looking away briefly. "I just…don't trust myself yet."

Confidently, "I did; I do."

Buffy knew the younger slayer still worried about how in control of herself she actually was. About whether or not she could force herself not to act when every muscle in her body, every thought in her brain, demanded activity. Buffy had had that same worry, but in the time she'd spent with her – they'd already gotten themselves into this comfortable place, and it had never taken her long to read her partner – the less she did. Faith would come around to that line of thinking eventually, or she'd have to 'assist' her.

The brunette smiled, her expression both happy and bashful as glanced at the blonde. "I'm always sayin' I've got your back – next time I will."

Buffy grinned at that before snaking her arm casually around Faith's waist. "Let's get outta here." She lead them towards where Giles and Angel were most likely discussing his idea to get the government's assistance with the slayers. She had a call to make, which her ex-watcher reminded her of prior to leaving Cordelia's room. "Jerry'll be on soon."

"You'd watch? For me?" Faith asked, moved, yet bringing them both to an abrupt stop because they were kind of attached.

"I'm a big softy. Plus, there's always helpful combat tips." The blonde shrugged. "And I've gotta call Riley later, don't let me forget, okay? It's this gigantically paranoid, covert pain in the ass, so it'll take forever to get through."

Narrowing eyes. "What d'you wanna call FarmDi…uh, him for?"

Buffy sighed, her eyes moving from the charcoal ceiling downwards until they landed on Faith, who was standing on the opposite side of the basement. Shifting her weight a smidge so she was leaning more comfortably against the cool surface of the wall, she let her eyes rest on her partner for a moment – the brunette stretched her body to the side, her arm reaching over her head before she rotated her torso slightly, and then placing her hands on the small of her back, she thrust her chest forward, releasing a long, almost guttural sigh as she worked out…whatever it was she was working out.

Rolling her hazel pair at the display, Buffy allowed her gaze to drift to the side, where an extremely bored-looking Kennedy and Vi were sitting on the basement steps: 'They look like I feel.' She watched her best friend's significant other tilt her head upwards at the ceiling, mouth open, before craning her head to the side and rolling it around simply because there was nothing better to do. It was mid-June, and every one of the slayers, old and new, basically had more free time than any human beings should have, while the A.I. team went about business as usual.

Giles had been in touch with governmental types, thanks to Riley; they were brainstorming how to get a new, 'Slayer Organization' off the ground, and a secretive, but out-in-the-open way to attract the attentions of the undiscovered slayers. Willow spent most of her time with Cordelia, using the resources of Wolfram and Hart to discover a mystical, 'Rise and Shine' spell. Dawn shopped daily with Vi, Kennedy, and a clueless, Chao-Ahn – her sister was developing impressive, consumer expertise. Xander had kind of bonded with Lorne, and the two of them had undertaken a remodeling project of the entire hotel.

It was Lorne's hope, with their offices having changed location, that he could turn the place into an actual, economically beneficial, five-star hotel. So they'd hired a mix of human and surprisingly amicable demon workers. Things were going well, but it would still be a while before his dream was realized.

While everyone had their own time occupiers, she and Faith were more or less inseparable, traveling around the city wreaking hijinks, eating, going to movies, eating some more…whatever. And it was fun, very fun – you couldn't tell that they were ever anything other than good friends. This was how it should've been in the beginning. While they loved the mundane, they did have to deal with boredom and the desire to slay. Yet as much as their bodies wanted to, they didn't, using the excuse that there was no need, because Angel had the evil under firm control. Slaying would pop the nice bubble of normality they were in; to work off the itch, the slayers sparred daily, like they were going to now.

Shaking her head, the blonde thought enough was enough. "You gonna stretch all day lil' doggie, or are you gonna bite?" She asked finally, quirking a lazy, but challenging eyebrow in her opponent's direction, smirking for good measure as deep, brown eyes found hers.

Faith held the look briefly, then slowly lowered the arm she'd been stretching so that it hung casually at her side. Not breaking visual contact at all, a slow, deliberate, carnivorous smile eventually crept onto her features. "Just remember, B, you asked me to." She drawled easily, bouncing on her feet a little, prior to moving into the center of the room.

Chewing on her bottom lip expectantly, the taller watched the pint-size shove off of the wall she'd been nonchalantly leaning against to approach her. "Hate to be unoriginal, but ditto. When I've got you on your back begging me for mercy, *you* can remember that for both of us." Buffy smoothly replied, assuming a relaxed, 'ready' position as they began to circle each other.

"Whoa – I haven't heard talk like that since my cellmate got transferred. Coming from you, though, damn…almost sounds like fun." Faith saw two eyes narrow a bit at her comment, and the blonde's expression became more serious. "Make that a promise and we might just have us a party; one for the books. Course, never enjoyed any I was sober at, but…I'm feelin' 'merry' already."

"Why, Faith," An arm lashed out, which was swiftly deflected, and the speaker had to jump over a quick, retaliatory, leg sweep, "I thought you liked it on top."

"Apparently, I'm not the only one." Faith remarked with a grin, dancing backwards out of the reach of the second attack – Buffy's foot. "You know," She continued almost contemplatively as her fist shot out, missing the other slayer's jaw because it was ducked under, "we ever want to, like if we're bummin' around, hours to kill…me and you could *totally* give 'rock 'em, sock 'em' a brand-new meaning. Hell, I know it." Earned her a gaping, warning stare, and cheeks had clearly reddened. "Shit…you should see your face."

"'Rock 'em, sock 'em'? Your euphemisms have gotten very abstract." Buffy was working very hard to control the urge to let her reaction completely distract her; 'distraction' wasn't a luxury she could afford to partake in. If she lost her concentration for even a second, she would be the one ending up on her back. "Are you sure you didn't *like* prison?"

"Maybe I would've, if I'd a met someone as packed full of charm as you." Faith countered, smiling. A smile that was quickly wiped off of her face as she went into a back flip, only to come up having to defend a series of well aimed, well timed blows that elicited a hoot and holler from her when they spun around to face each other once more. "Christ, I missed this. Especially the 'Unh.'" She grinned like mad at the woman in front of her, with the adrenaline pumping through her body only increasing.

It made her even more excited when Buffy met her eyes and grinned as well. "That was better. Much less abstract."

Kennedy, who was resting her elbows on her knees, leaning forward to get a better view of the originals in action, turned to look at Vi with widening eyes. "Uh?" She raised her brow questioningly at the shorthaired redhead.

"I think it was more like, 'Unh.'" Vi contorted her features and made a grunting face in demonstration as she spoke, though her voice was quiet enough that it didn't sound throughout the whole room.

"Right. Yeah." Kennedy agreed, except that hadn't really been what she was getting at. She was actually trying to ask, 'What the hell was that about?' But she chose not to clarify.

With Buffy and Faith talking and trying to beat each other again, she had more pressing matters with which to occupy her time.

"Rocked?" Buffy wondered as Faith rubbed her stomach lightly where a certain foot had just connected with it, yet their eyes were still focused on one another.

"More like socked." The Bostonian said before unleashing a complicated series of kicks and punches, and hopping back into her ready position after feeling her last kick connect to the midsection of her now, not-so-cocky sparring partner. "Well check that out…two of a kind."

"Funny." The blonde said wryly, her tone deadpan though her eyes were alight. She was enjoying the fight just as much, if not more, but she had her part to play.

"Hey, c'mon, I gotta give credit where it's due, and we all know you're the funny one here." Faith acted as if she were conceding a point, giving a gracious wave as proof. "I mean, one look at your face, and – " Her arms lifted to block a barrage of punches preventing her from finishing. She would've been broken up about the interruption, but felt that it worked even better with Buffy doing her own, mental 'Fill in the Blank.' "Man, nice 'Fists of Fury,' B." She complimented once the attack stopped and they squared off again. "Somethin' I said?"

"Isn't it always?" Buffy arched an eyebrow, but kept a small smile on her face.

"Nah, sometimes it's something I do." Faith retorted, seizing up the opportunity that had been presented to her. "But it's better when it's both." She winked at the blonde who quickly reddened again. "Got gifts. It's my duty to share. Wherever, whenever."

"Subtle, yet suggestive. Gee, I guess you have changed." Came the sarcastic response, however, the answering grin communicated that it had come too late.

"I can also spell 'Mississippi' without stumbling." Faith said, blowing on her nails and buffing them on her tank top. "You impressed? Turned on, maybe?" She queried, before momentarily losing her balance as she was jumped on and knocked down to the ground temporarily. After she rolled the extra body weight off, they both hopped back onto their feet. "Guess that answers that question. But really, Buffy…we have guests. Save it for the veranda." The response to that last statement was three, perplexed expressions, only one of which she paid attention to. "What? I love a good view."

"Trust me, you wouldn't get to enjoy it." Buffy informed her, not even sparing a glance over at Kennedy and Vi, knowing that that was what she would be expected to do. "Well, at least not the 'garden' view." She smirked a bit at her own suggestiveness, rather proud of herself.

"Gardens are a bitch, anyhow. Fun to look at, pain in the ass to maintain." Faith upped the level of innuendo, ignoring the sound of footsteps descending the stairs as she was unwilling to relinquish her advantage. "You're looking a little rosy," She saw the nearly imperceptible change in Buffy's expression at her previous words, "you feeling okay? Maybe we oughta take you to bed, go nip this thing in the bud…or is it, 'take the bud and go nippin' in the bed?' Either way's fine by me."

"A floral motif, that's new…and kind of poetic. I'm so proud that you've grown as a flirter." The petite woman didn't want to rise to the dangling bait, though she had to admit that the brunette's teasing had hit its mark, leaving her flushed for the whole basement to witness.

Kennedy managed to rip her eyes away from the dueling slayers when she felt a warm body settle down beside her. Smiling over at the latest spectator, she rested her head on the witch's shoulder. Both of them then resumed watching the battle going on in the middle of the room, while Willow frowned just a little – nope, not yet.

"I got some material about when sweet-smelling dew starts drippin' from cherry blossoms…" Faith said with a leer, as the girlfriends retuned in. "If you're game."

"As tempting as that sounds, I'd rather listen to one of your limericks." Came Buffy's response before she tipped her head to the side thoughtfully. "If you can even call them that." Buffy took her shot, gaining control again. "And I used to think the Hellmouth was scary." She continued, smiling sweetly at Faith who sent her an unimpressed look.

"You gonna lay a hellacious ass-whooping on me, too?" Faith asked, expertly dodging a few blows Buffy threw at her.

"Hellaciousness would work against our new, surprisingly satisfying 'friendliness' thing. So I'll settle for a smackdown – if that's agreeable to you and your ass, of course."

"You wanna smack my ass?" Faith deliberately misconstrued that last sentence. "Hold on, I'm not usually into that…but like you said, we have been getting friendly…"

"You need to learn when to shut up," Buffy interjected, promptly cutting her off, "anybody ever tell you that?"

"You mean before now?" The glare only gave the brunette steam; she sighed appreciatively. "So tiny, yet so dominant." She made an amused, little face, motioning like she was pinching Buffy's cheeks. "You're so cute."

"I'm. Not," The word that came next practically exploded from an enraged Buffy's mouth, "*Tiny*!" And with that, she launched into a determined series of combos.

She didn't let up on Faith even for an instant, who was momentarily caught off guard by the resolve of the attack, and was put more on the defensive than she normally liked. 'Oh fuck.' The younger slayer felt herself free falling before her back landed on the floor with a thud, and a warm body settled atop her.

"Told you I'd get you on your back." Buffy triumphantly declared, placing her hands on the shoulders of the loser to hold the aforementioned down – not that there was much struggling.

"Lucky." Faith muttered, turning her head away to look at the steel cage off to the side.

"What was that? Couldn't quite make it out." Buffy dug her knees into Faith's side just enough to command attention, but not to hurt.

"What're you, deaf? You got *lucky*." Faith uttered defiantly, matching the intense stare above her.

"Really? Because those of us that live in reality like to call it 'skill'…Sista." Mocking slang was fun.

"Yeah, well unless you wanna test your skill as a rodeo cowgirl, shake that ass offa me." The defeated slayer bucked her hips lightly at first, then with more force when she realized that Buffy was just riding out the waves.

She settled down as it became clear that there'd be no dislodging her this way, giving Buffy a mixed look of pride, astonishment, realization and excitement. Spike hadn't been lying about her getting 'down and dirty' since she saw her last, because you had to have some practice to able to ride out a storm like the blonde had just had.

The victor wasn't sure what to make of the look on the brunette's face, or the fact that she had ceased struggling as well as speaking, and was completely still. Buffy couldn't remember if she'd ever seen this before. Faith was usually like a giant ball of energy, always moving, always talking. Even in quiet moments, back in the beginning when they'd had a few, she was constantly rubbing her hands together, or cracking her knuckles, or making fists – like she couldn't stand calmness. Yet, she was lying there, relaxed and quiet.

The pair riveted Kennedy even during the silent staring contest, not sure what to make of the display she'd just been privy to, let alone the climax of it all. Having lifted her head from Willow's shoulder some moments before, she looked at her, curious. "Are they…?" She trailed off, unable to explain the way Buffy and Faith interacted with each other as anything other than sexual tension.

Willow's slow, sly smile said so much more than words ever could have, which made Kennedy smirk as her eyes returned to the unmoving forms of Buffy and Faith, one final time. Then she stood up and offered her hand to the witch, whose smile, coupled with the 'rock 'em, sock 'em' festivities, made her want to get the magick-maker on her back in a way that had nothing to do with sparring.

"Stop that." Buffy protested, oblivious to the exit of the redhead and her now, '100% Superhero-ed' lust bunny. Willow wondered if she would feel different after this time.

And up at the top of the stairs, Dawn quickly vanished, so they wouldn't see that she had been watching them, though it wasn't at all with envy. Nope.

"Stop what?" Faith was genuinely puzzled, although she tried to make it sound as if it was all part of her master plan…whatever that may have been.

"Looking at me." Buffy complained, rising to a standing position, thus freeing Faith. Instead of getting up, however, the brunette merely rolled onto her side and propped her head up with her hand, finding the blonde again and wearing a small, pleased smile. "I can't believe I was thinking about helping you up." She spoke exasperatedly, catching Vi retreating out of the corner of her eye.

"How, 'Friendly, Neighborhood…*former* one-girl-in-all-the-world,' of you." Faith smirked, sitting up. "I accept." She held out her hand to her partner, who merely stared at it.

"I said I was *thinking* about it." Buffy emphasized, viewing the appendage thoughtfully.

"You can't just leave me hangin', yo." Faith stared up at what she hoped would be her savior, her eyes practically whining, 'After all we've been through together?' all shimmering and wide.

'That's just not right.' Buffy told her brain silently, and then reached out to grasp the hand and tug her up. The 'Urban Girl to the Core' and the 'Puppy-Dog' expression were two things she never expected to ever use in conjunction.

"Much obliged, B." Faith said softly, once on her feet, her face mere inches away from Buffy's own, thanks to the momentum of the blonde's pull.

"My pleasure." Buffy responded, her voice equally soft before she took a step back, putting some space between them.

"That's true." The brunette nodded in total agreement. "Most people would hafta at least offer to feed me before getting the kind of free action you just got." She grinned over at the blonde.

"In that case, I feel…" Buffy trekked towards their exit, craning her neck to keep sight of a following Faith.

"Pretty damn special?" Faith supplied as she grabbed the railing and hopped onto the first step. "You wanna know – ?"

"No."

"You don't even know what I was gonna – "

"No."

"Not even if it's – ?"

"Nope."

"It could be – "

"Don't think so."

"That's narrow – "

"I'm not gonna lose any sleep over it."

"Your loss…" Faith shrugged.

"…Is your gain." Her elder finally turned around to face the woman trailing behind her as they entered the Hyperion's lobby.

"How's it my gain if I already knew what I was gonna say?" Faith asked in a 'Got ya!' tone.

"That's not the point." Buffy smugly revealed as they crossed the tile floor to the stairway on the left.

"Then what *is* the point?"

"You forgot what you were going to say." Stopping in the middle of the staircase, Buffy spun around so that she was looking down at the person a few stairs below her.

Faith snorted as if she had never heard anything so ridiculous in her life. "No, I…crap." She sighed, when upon reflection, she realized she had indeed forgotten.

Buffy smiled and turned back around to head up, wistful. "It's good to be me." She continued scaling the steps, smiling to herself as she heard the playfully muttering, 'devil woman.' "Would a 'devil woman' treat you to your very own bucket of ribs?"

Not missing a beat, "Yes."

"Seriously?" The blonde inquired, glancing behind her.

Faith smirked. "There was the one time."

"I don't wanna know." Buffy said, hurrying up her ascent. Showers were in order before their barbeque needs could be met.

"I think you do." Faith sing-songed. "You wanna hear all about how – "

Hands were clamped over ears. "I can't hear you, I can't hear you, I can't *hear* you…" She repeated the phrase again and again as she marched down the hall, refusing to look back.

Faith smiled – she was back on top.

It was early in the evening when the slayers entered their room at the hotel, after a day-long hunt – for an 8-Bit Nintendo System and a basket full of cartridges, which Buffy was lugging. She dropped it on the bed as Faith just stood there, leisurely eating reheated ribs that she'd paid for. "You hafta at least taste 'em; they're even better nuked. No joke." Her audience of one wasn't swayed, and just smirked. "Buffy, these ribs are the *bomb*…shouldn't deny yourself."

"This is driving me nuts – there, I said it." The blonde rubbed her temples. Had Faith already moved that far down the list? Because she was now using slang so overused, all races cringed upon hearing it. "You're getting close to bordering on 'Urkel' territory; the worrying has begun."

"That's low." Faith responded after a long moment of silent disbelief. "When I start strappin' on suspenders, then – "

Buffy's eyes grew large. "You're gonna start wearing suspenders?" She relented slightly when the scowl made an appearance. "Okay, maybe I was exaggerating a little, but the second it becomes a huge issue and I say, 'I told you so,' remember that I both broached and warned."

This gave the Bostionian pause, but she continued with the denial. "C'mon, it's still – "

" – outdated? Yep, extremely."

"It's hung in for a few rounds; nothing wrong with that." The younger slayer shrugged, her statement defensive. "Just means it's hard to knock out, so put down the shovel. Isn't time."

"Faith, I'm your friend, and honestly? You should listen to yourself. It's almost one step away from, 'My bad.'" Her petite roommate said, somberly.

"Shit." Faith breathed out, slowly realizing. Because of the horrification, it was several seconds before she was able to ask, "How bout 'Dy-No-Mite'?"

"Long as I don't get blown up…" They grinned at each other. "Now drop the beef and help me plug this in." She picked up the Nintendo.

"That was such a porn line, B." The brunette's eyes twinkled, as she set the plate of ribs by the door.

"You would know." Buffy joked with a similar, accompanying twinkle.

"You wanna talk dated? This thing ain't no spring chicken; it's a golden oldie. And back in its day, people were retarded, ya know?" Faith had to clarify, if the raised brow was any indication. "With technology and stuff. But they got it hooked up, so I'm betting, not rocket science." She brushed it off, turning the TV they borrowed from Lorne's room around so they could reach the back. "I mean, hell, they had Beta." She snorted.

"Like you have any idea what that is."

"Yeah, it's the dude with the contacts on Star Trek."

Buffy stared blankly at the smug expression. "I'm not even…nope. Not gonna bother."

"No, please, pass on your retro knowledge – only way I'll learn." Faith crossed her arms over her chest, and eyed her friend expectantly. "Don't keep me in suspense. Never was good with the whole, 'patience' thing."

The blonde was at a loss, and there was no way to salvage this pitfall. "It was, um…that toy. It was like a glow-in-the-dark puzzle, so they gave you these little lights in the box, but some were always missing."

"Oh, you're a friggin' *genius*. That was a Lite-Brite!" Faith shook her head disappointedly, holding in a snicker. "Sure talk big for a," Coughing into her hand, "college dropout."

Carefully placing the older console on top of the TV for a moment, Buffy lunged at her fellow slayer, sending them both hard onto the bed and knocking the basket full of games/accessories to the floor, causing its contents to spill out. She looked down at her bold, smart-ass of a friend and said, "Oh, and that *wasn't* low? Hafta say, I'm kind of leaning towards disliking you. Temporarily. For a week."

"Wouldn't last that long."

"Me?" She was ready to argue the point, more for argument's sake than anything else, but then she paid attention to the eyes that gave her a brutally honest answer. With a barely noticeable smile, she rolled off the brunette then, so they lay side-by-side on their backs. Their thoughts had been heading in a certain direction lately, and it felt like forever until she spoke again, choosing to sidestep. "Why'd we get all this stuff?"

"I had to see if I could pull off the granddaddy of all codes," Faith reminded her, speaking of the famous Contra cheat, "and you said you could snag the second whistle in Mario 3."

"I can." Buffy repeated in her defense. "But…why'd we get *all* this stuff?"

"Cause we like to go full-tilt?"

The blonde mused on this. "Wonder if that's a good thing. I…it'd be easy to fall back into the slaying, but going full-tilt again? Isn't high up there."

"Girls are willin' to pick up the slack; it's okay to relax the hours. Earned yourself a choice, stupid to waste it." The younger slayer wasn't shy about making her opinion available. "Putting in the time gave you options, so use 'em."

The elder sighed. "I've just been thinking about how everybody else has their own thing, and I'm still lagging. Bugs me that I dunno what I wanna do with my life."

"Hey, I lag, you plan…difference. I mean, this took me a while to get a handle on, but rushing…life ain't a race. Find something you wanna do, then run with it till you're bored. Don't hafta lock yourself into anything." The brunette had to stop herself before she got too philosophical and made herself sick. Ex-cons shouldn't offer sage advice. "Whatever – I'm bullshitting."

Buffy turned her head to look at the embarrassed Bostonian. "Doesn't sound like it."

When Faith didn't get the jibe she was expecting, she wandered into territory that hadn't been tread for quite a while, not knowing what the hell she was doing. "Sometimes tiltin', uh, has an upside, though. Actually did for me once, then I – "

"Faith, we weren't ready." Thankfully one of them had the guts to start this. "But I didn't ever…" She had to get it out. "I'm glad it happened." Slight blush. "Everything after? That's the stuff I wanna forget."

But that morning had been equally her fault. In her senior year, the two chosen ones had trailed these vampire lackeys of an obese demon named Balthazar into Sunnydale's sewers. After a rather intense battle, retrieving an amulet they'd come for, the victors wound up at Faith's motel room. Slayers tend to feel an overwhelming high from their work, a buzzing, all-too-palpable surge of energy that needs to find release. Buffy usually denied herself, but then, she forgot why the rules mattered. Let the tide pull her in. There'd only been that moment, and that moment had consisted solely of Faith.

'Hesitant' and 'shy' were words that lost meaning, as they seemed to know instinctively how to drive the other to the brink and back again. Fast, heated and crazy – exactly the way it started, with the simple goal of helping a friend to unwind. However, and they weren't sure what changed, the intense, casually-motivated 'one-off' turned slow, sensual and passionate on them. A pleasurable competition became something that carried a hell of a lot more emotional weight behind it; baggage was the last thing they'd wanted at the time, which probably explained the 'Why' of it very nicely.

In the morning, wrapped in a tangle of warm, protective limbs, they awoke to Reality, who was in the mood to be a bitch that day. And that awkwardness set up the ugly few months to come, that escalated until nothing but what happened in that loft, could be done.

"Only time I wasn't itchin' to move. And when I didn't want you gone? Damn, that weirded me out." Faith admitted, still processing the fact that Buffy didn't see their one night as a shameful, low point.

"I could tell." The blonde said, and then sighed. "Wasn't like I was any better at grasping it, though. The 'girl' thing was new, and I'd technically just cheated on my boyfriend who I was in serious denial over, and what we did was…" She blushed yet again. "Being the best sex I've ever had didn't exactly help. Then we just, left it hanging."

Wait a minute – that wasn't past tense. Sitting up, she didn't feel so relaxed anymore. "I'm the bullshitter here, B; busted my ass for the title, so – "

"Great, cause I don't wanna compete for it. I'd lose by a *wide* margin." Grinning, Buffy sat up as well. "I wouldn't lie about this – really was."

Not at all cocky, "Why?"

"Because…" The shorter slayer knew she'd have to explain, so she put her embarrassment behind her and plowed ahead. "Because it was. Angel was my first and I loved him, so at the time it was nice, but most of it was him trying not to hurt me. Did anyway. Then I met Angelus, who made sure any good memories were destroyed." She exhaled during a pause. "Parker knew what he was doing, but that just wasn't…enough. Plus, he was an asshole. Same thing with Riley – well, not the 'asshole' part. I kept waiting to fall for him like I had with Angel, only…never happened. The sex wasn't as 'Cloud Nine-ish' as it coulda been. Um, except maybe that time we were possessed. We went all – "

Her audience coughed loudly to interrupt. "Leaves 'Bachelor Vamp #2.' And you had to be spikin' like jackrabbits. Bet with the strength and the stamina, musta been intense."

"We did. It was." Came the honest admittance. "I used him to feel something, anything; except I couldn't. No matter how har…m-much I tried. Disgust came later." She grimaced, which then morphed into a slow smile. "With you, I dunno, everything felt…right. Incredible even, and I was scared."

"Yeah." Faith agreed. In wanting to pretend nothing had changed, they overcompensated the next night, received a severe, wakeup call, and made one bad decision that led to another, because they weren't sure how to act. If only things had been less complicated to begin with. "Weren't we just gonna kick back and save a toadstool?"

Buffy laughed, followed by her partner, which rolled back the heaviness of the moment. Though at some point, the brunette had grabbed her hand. "We definitely sidetracked."

Looking at the other now that all of that had been said, they silently asked, 'What next?' Before either of them could answer, Dawn entered the room, much to their relief. "I thought you guys were back. Xander wanted me to tell you that he thinks we should all do something together in like, a couple weeks when people finally have free time and you stop hogging it. Guess where he wants to go?" The teenager's eyes drifted to the Nintendo, completely bypassing the clasped hands. "Oh my God! You bought Duck Hunt? No way!"

Andrew suddenly appeared in the doorway. "Did they get the Light Gun, too?"

It was July 4^th weekend, and Xander, Willow, Fred, Kennedy, Dawn, Buffy, Faith (her 'Four' issues put aside), and Andrew – the only ones able to get away – were split off into mini-groups, wandering around one of California's fine amusement parks. It had been a much-needed break for most of them, while for Buffy and Faith, it was just another addition to their summer of lazy recreation. Their mini-group included Dawn and Kennedy, though they were all going to meet up for lunch in an hour, despite having eaten many unhealthy things already.

Currently, Buffy stood stock still, lips parted into a perfect 'O,' with her left eyebrow arched. She gaped at the woman in front of her, unable to utter a single word. Faith was grinning from ear to ear, bouncing on her feet lightly, as she darted her eyes around excitedly, clutching an oversized, pink, stuffed bear. Her arms were crossed over it protectively; she practically molded the fuzzy animal into her chest. Freaky.

Their unfinished conversation still hadn't been resolved, but they agreed it would be when there were confident answers to give. Certainly wasn't bothering them today.

"Coolest day ever." The Bostonian declared giddily, her attention focused on something past her companion. Eyes glazing over, her hold on the bear loosened a bit.

"It's only 11:30." The blonde managed to sputter, quickly having to twirl to keep Faith in her line of sight as the girl started to walk away, face full of mindless determination. "What? Where are you…? Conversing here!" She debated with herself about whether or not she should follow, before giving in.

"Pirate ship." The words were carried to by the wind, as Faith decided it wasn't necessary to look at the person she was addressing. "Yo," She suddenly declared a moment later, facing her sister slayer as though she'd remembered something of extreme importance, "hold, uh…Wuzzie, would ya?" She tossed the bear to Buffy once she had decided on a name, and then hopped over the rail to the ride.

"Wuzzie?" Buffy asked softly, looking down at the stuffed animal like it was going to bite her.

"Cause he's fuzzy." The younger slayer called back, coming to a stop at the end of the line and glaring at the back of the head of the person impeding her progress.

"Of course." His new handler muttered, watching her sister and Kennedy for the first time since Faith had hit the jackpot at the pitching booth and then promptly gone insane. "You hafta see this, too. I'm not imagining her being all…chipper." She addressed them, the last word coming out in a squeak. "I mean, you see it, right? Right?"

Dawn glanced at Kennedy, sharing a brief, 'I-can't-believe-I'm-related-to-this-freak' look with the older girl, before taking a few steps towards Buffy and placing a hand on her shoulder. She took a deep breath, head shaking in dismay. "Yes, Buffy. It's what us non-crazy people whackily call, 'having fun.'" She explained as if she were talking to a small child. "You can tell when people are having fun cause they do this strange thing where their lips curl up and you can see their teeth – usually. But in a good way, not a scary, anti-social, 'I vant to zuck your blaad' way."

"It's kinda the whole reason people go to amusement parks. To be like, amused. Plus, the broody, ex-convict routine would scare the children, and that'd be no fun for anyone." Kennedy piped up teasingly, and nodding her head to conclude her important point.

"But it's *Faith*." Buffy complained, and the topic in question was leaning against one of the railings, impatiently tapping her foot, stopping only to rise up onto her tiptoes to check out the line.

Unfortunately, a retort couldn't be voiced that would beat through the incredible thickness of the blonde's skull, because Faith smiled in their direction. "Junior, Mini-Me," She repressed a chuckle when Kennedy frowned at the nickname, "you comin' or what?"

"What about me?" Her petite friend asked, while the girls joined her in the line.

Was the woman daft? "The Sitter can't ride."

"I could just rest Wuzzie over there…"

"Nah, someone might take…shim." Faith looked alarmingly at the nearest bench, which was a good meter from the exit line.

Buffy's grip on the bear was smartly tightened. "Shim?"

"Gender's hard to tell with bears." Shrug. "Relax, Mini-Me's got next watch, and you and me'll be plummeting to earth screamin' our heads off while the pansies in the other cart piss themselves on…'The Elevator From Hell.'" She pronounced the last part in a cheesy, booming, ominous tone.

"Huh?" Where was that on the map?

"Geez, it's 'Drop Zone,' all right? But that doesn't sound as bad-ass in my 'booming voice.'" The brunette had to use it once more when she said 'booming voice' because, well, the voice was just fun. "You can wait with us before we gotta ditch you." She offered charitably.

"You're sweet." The befuddled Summers commented wryly, though walked closer nonetheless to lean on the railing with them, Wuzzie tucked protectively under her arm.

"Yup – bestest there is." The little girl made another appearance.

Smirk, "Bestest *ass*."

"Thanks." And the girl was silenced again. "Got lotsa props in the showers, too. Day one, guards tell you not to cop a peek, but the cushion got admired plenty…dirty bitches." Yet there was a smile, like she was remembering treasured times of old.

Just what had transpired in that prison, anyway?

"And then there's…" Faith started, her words halting as her eyes drifted off to her side. "Gonna finish that?" She asked Dawn, looking at the younger girl's half-finished plate of fries. "Cause ya know, waste not-want not, Junior."

"What?" Dawn asked distractedly as she stretched her thumb back towards herself, trying to keep it away from Kennedy. "Oh, yeah. Whatever. Help yourself." She permitted, concentrating on the contest, and shifting on the wooden bench to get into a better position. "Your thumb is mine!"

"You speak brashly, young one." Kennedy replied in a voice similar to the one used by every extra in any movie based on England of 'Ye Olden Times.' "Can your ass cash the check your mouth just wrote?"

"Hey, my ass is totally good for it." Dawn promised, eyes narrowed as she readied for combat. "Not like it matters, cause I'm gonna eat your thumb for breakfast."

Buffy chuckled, shooting her oblivious sister a look. Probably a good thing Willow wasn't there to hear any of that. Though it was weird that the redhead wasn't with her girlfriend.

"…And then we should, oh yeah, hell yeah, we should totally check out that Rapids ride…" Faith babbled on. She only stopped talking when she ate, and even then the pauses were so brief that no one could be entirely sure she was actually chewing – it was fascinating. "Ohh, ohh, ohh! Mini-Putt! I rock the greens. I'm all like, 'You want a piece'a this?' and the Par 3 is like, 'No ma'am,' and I'm all, 'That's right, you best be respectin'.'" She tilted her head slightly to the right and left for the respective voices, and moved her hand in a slapping motion when she talked about getting her props.

"I thought you were gonna cut back with that?" The blonde was certain that the brunette had mentioned every single ride and activity in the park on her, 'And Then…' list. She also wondered when she had befriended Jason Mewes, but that was another thing entirely.

The human vacuum cleaner popped a cold, but still delicious fry into her mouth. "Yeah, I'm on a 'Twelve-Step' and…VR Arcade! We gotta." She exclaimed once swallowing, and then held her hand in front of her chest flashing what Buffy guessed was some sort of gang sign, before she grabbed Wuzzie back and held shim at her side lovingly.

"VR?" Kennedy started to ask, but she suddenly felt a sharp pain in her thumb.

"Ha!" Dawn was clamping down on the slayer's thumb like it was a ruptured artery. "My ass and I mock you."

"Ice show, too." Faith broke in, slapping Buffy on the arm. "Definitely, definitely the ice show."

This day had been full of surprises. Not only had she gotten to meet, 'Hopped Up on Life' Faith,' but also, 'Rain-Man' Faith. You couldn't buy stuff like that, and it made her smile.

"Is 'Kennedy' your first name, or your last?" The younger Summers was basking in the afterglow of her win. "Need to know for the 'Told You I'd Kick Your Ass' card I'm gonna put in the mail. I'm thinking of using glitter to spell out how awesome I am in it."

Sullen, and desperate for a rematch, "Just 'Kennedy.'"

Dawn extended her index and baby finger to make a hand phone. "Well, the 80s called, and I think they want their trend back."

"Sure, I'll tell that to Shakira, Pink…gosh, uh, *Madonna*…" Kennedy shot back, pointing a victorious finger in her opponent's face.

"Damn it!"

Game. Set. Match.

"Funnel cake." The Bostonian chirped abruptly. "Tasty till the last. Definitely funnel cake, definitely."

In another area of the park, Willow, Fred and Xander had to stop near the Ring Toss booth because Andrew was getting hyperactive. "Xander, oh, can you win me that? It's the helmet the clone army wore in Episode II. Remember? You know, the pre-Storm Trooper version that the Galactic Empire instituted years later during Darth Sidious', unflinching, cruel reign of terror? Pretty please? It's so important to me that I'll-I'll do your laundry for a whole week, I promise. And you know you have no idea about grease stains. I wish you'd be more careful, because it's hard work getting those out, and I'm not a miracle worker, okay?"

The prize he so coveted was a cheap, plastic replica, and the more mature male was set to deny him. "That boy ain't right." He said to the ladies.

Fred giggled, while Willow smirked. "Aw, be nice. He's got a crush – do you wanna break his heart into tiny pieces? Nope, not my best friend, cause that wouldn't be very friendly. So go throw, you big, unappealing, muscle-y man. Shoo."

"*Then* I can let him down easy?" Someone had gone pale.

They started pushing him closer to the booth, and the redhead rolled her eyes. "It's harmless. Just play one game; make him happy." She sighed, shaking her head. "Nerd-o-phobe. Goddess…"

He looked ready to debate, but Andrew beckoned, so to get him to shut up, he left the women by themselves. They watched the hi-jinks for a minute or so, until the geek was scolded, and then the brunette nervously ventured, "Breaks are nice, huh?" She shared her cotton candy.

Smile while taking a bite. "Yeah, absolutely."

"I know Angel really appreciates everything you're doing for Cordelia." Fred continued, waiting for her opening. "Well not *just* Angel – we all do. Because she means a lot to us, and it's wonderful that you're spending so much time trying to, you know. And helping me in the lab with things, cause it gets crazy in there sometimes. Which, duh, you obviously know cause you're there practically every day. Anyway, it's great." She bit her lip as Willow's brow rose in question. "So, um, how're you and Kennedy doing?" Another bite.

"What, wh-who – ?"

"Sorry! I'm sorry! It's only, see, Buffy and Xander asked me to ask you, cause I think they were worried, and since they said y'all don't exactly butt into each others' love lives that I should, because…I dunno why actually, but they figured you probably wouldn't get angry with me." The science geek spoke in a rush. "Have I mentioned how sorry I am, in case you are? In fact, I hope you're royally pissed. Cause I had like, no right to bring up the subject at all. Sure, we're both workaholics, but what does that count for, really? Uh, *nothing*? I mean, would two chefs share their life stories just because they happen to both be chefs? No, of course not. And if they worked for different restaurants, which most likely they would, they wouldn't even share recipes." She was more, though comically, angry with herself. "I'm such a rude bitch."

Willow laughed. "You are not! I just wasn't expecting your butt…ing. Your butting. In. With, uh, that question. Yep, that's all." She looked away very much on purpose, then. "And it's okay to ask me stuff. We're workaholics, true, but also? Friends. Who can occasionally do that." Under control of her facial expressions now, she met Fred's eyes, frowning – gee, why weren't she and Kennedy hanging out much lately? Hmm. "I guess me, Buffy and Xander don't talk about our relationships much. We tease, and then tease some more, but no serious discussing." Maybe that would have to change.

Her feelings for Kennedy hadn't progressed like she'd hoped, or possibly, not hoped. The slayer wasn't stupid, either; she knew something was up, that she was being avoided. She hadn't even said a word when their bunch split off today. Of course, in her confused state Willow was around Fred on a daily basis. Someone she liked a lot, and had plenty in common with. It was only natural that her eye would begin a wander a bit, though she wasn't going to tell the scientist that.

"Maybe you should." Fred encouraged. "Probably rather talk to them, anyway."

"After I yell at them for making you think I'd get even a little mad, I will. You asked, though, so first I wanna answer." The witch smiled reassuringly, checking to see Xander shoveling out another dollar to placate Andrew, while she thought of how to say this. "We're…busy. Kennedy's been all 'Slay-Ho' and hanging out with Dawn and the other girls lately, and I've been having fun with you…" She caught herself, but was felt her nerves go up a notch. "With you in the lab. Co-working hard, being super productive…as p-people are sometimes, when they're both on the same, um, floor. Often."

She sucked at hiding things, but accepting a second mouthful, her friend pretended to buy it. "Oh, makes sense."

"And doing research for Cordelia too, which is important right now. Kennedy understands that. It's just separate 'Me Time.' We don't wanna start smothering; besides, it's not like we have to be together constantly." That was half of the truth, and one of the problems.

"You don't wanna get sick of each other and start fighting for no reason, cause then later you'll have a perfect reason, but you can't say two words to each other, because things are suddenly different and you know when it happened, but you can't go backwards and it makes you queasy and it's much too late to be fixable." The brunette got carried away again. Perhaps she hadn't made her peace with past events after all. Before Willow could interject, she released a breath and was chipper. "Plus, the best part is the next time you have, uh, well, when you get, uh…when you shut your door and tell everyone to stay the hell out of the hallway," The brunette settled on the most polite reference she could think of, "I bet you'll see stars. Or supernovas. I always love anticipatin' it and feeling like jelly afterwards." She smiled to herself, unaware of the flushing redhead.

The men returned, ending the conversation, and the more questionable of the pair wore his new mask over his face, leaving Xander to show the girls his depleted wallet. "Who woulda thought there'd actually be cobwebs at the bottom? See, cartoons do teach valuable lessons."

"Do not worry, when the Senator claims this system and all who dwell within it, your generosity shan't go unrewarded for long." Andrew announced in a muffled, bad, stately, British accent.

"I've been trying this 'Say Nay to Violence' thing ever since my hometown became America's newest, 'Rubble Spot of Mystery,' but either let me sock him, or – "

"Isn't it lunchtime?" Fred said quickly, guiltily eating more pink cloud and passing it back to her fellow female.

"Great! Because there's a bucket of cheese fries with my name on 'em, so Faith better not have cleaned the place out." He went on ahead at a speed just below 'bolting.'

"C'mon, Andrew." Willow ordered, frustrated in several ways with the entire situation, and the kid marched behind them as a soldier would. With a flick of her finger, he was moving so fast that he nearly fell down.

"Never again, Will – we promise." Buffy spoke for both her and Xander.

But he added anyhow, "Swear on my patchless eye."

Night had fallen, and the park's lights were shining down so that all its visitors could find their way to a primo spot to watch the fireworks display. Most of them had indeed left the rides to go be patriotic for fifteen minutes, which was why Faith insisted that the group hop on the roller coaster. According to her, the highness meant the best view, and the speed made it like a wicked, psychedelic trip without the side effects. Not that she knew much about psychedelic trips or anything.

The three, original Scoobies were conversing farther down the line, with Dawn and Kennedy ahead of them, then Fred keeping a close eye on Andrew, and Faith closest to the ride, having forced her way through, urging everyone to pick up the pace. The redhead had just finished chastising her family about going through Fred to find out how she was, and if their shame was any indication, her message was clear. When they got to the hotel, there'd be things to get off of her chest.

"K, group hug." Willow said, and was immediately obliged. "Later – you, me and ice cream?"

The blonde slayer nodded. "In my head, the pajamas are on already."

"Exactly what do my gals wear to bed these days?" Xander wondered, suggestively.

"You'll never give up, will you?"

"Such a guy." The witch muttered.

"Blame it on the peeper; I just tag along." He joked, badly. "Ya know, Giles is closing in on that government deal. They're gonna build in England somewhere. 'Black Op' with SAS support, the whole magilla."

"Yeah, he was telling us." Buffy said, thinking about it. "He really wants to do it right this time. Seems like he has it all figured."

"Thinkin' about going with when he flies over there, maybe supervise construction. Could always join one of those oddly-captivating, BBC kids shows when it's done."

"What about opening the hotel with Lorne?" Willow asked, surprised at his news. "They're moving out soon, and there's still a lot to do."

"Union's chock full of demon talent – they're not so evil when they're not being evil. We drew up the blueprints; he's good to go." He explained, and then exhaled. "I wanna stay local, but I can't work for Angel, Will, and I'm not gonna get a job the traditional way anymore." Buffy looked down, and he realized his mistake. "I didn't mean…"

She looked up at him again with a sad smile. "I know." Yet again, she had to face the fact that her life was directionless. "Do whatever you have to, Xand."

"We'll be supportive." The redhead smiled as well. "I'm kinda gonna miss Sunnydale, though. Everybody was under one roof, and…" Her eyes widened. "Wow, did I say that?"

Faith had reached them. "Son of a…move it, B! Pump those dwarf-sizes!" She took her hand and pulled her along. "See ya on the track!"

Willow's eyebrows rose at her friend, who looked back with a very girlish grin. Her brows stayed up as she viewed the pair of brunettes in front of her. "Red or Mokey?" Dawn was questioning.

"Easy – Mokey."

"What? She painted all the time! She was so repressed!"

Kennedy smirked. "And quiet; too quiet. Almost Zen. Like there were major drugs in the radishes. Don't you think that's bizarre?" Her smirk was soon a grin. "Face it, Mokey was the closet ho of Fraggle Rock; the Doozers had to be building her sex toys on the side."

"You French your mother with that mouth? Slut."

"'Lesbo slut.' Get it right." Dawn stuck her tongue out at that remark. "Sorry, seeing someone. At least I'm not like a repressed, blue-haired Muppet."

"What kind of weirdo, wannabe superhero can't even win at thumb-wrestling? Gotta think…"

"Whatever…virgin."

"Walking STD."

Kennedy began chasing her through the line, and they flew past Buffy and Faith, right to the seats. "Kid was made outta you, right?" The Bostonian asked.

"Really oversimplified answer? Yes." The blonde was visibly curious.

"Wonder if she fence-jump's into the garden, too?"

"Faith!" Buffy was stunned as well as a sprinkle outraged. "Dawn and innuendo shouldn't *ever* mingle – are you listening? It's scheevy. She's my baby sister!"

"That's why I asked." The brunette grinned, and gave her 'Wuzzie' guarding duties for the second time. "Look, when Andrew gets up here, tell 'em to hold onto shim, or I fubar his closest hole. He's gonna be a pussy, gotta put him to work." She headed for the seat in the front, next to Dawn and Kennedy. "And Wuzz isn't a damn Ewok!"

"Rainbow Brite or Smurfette?" It was Kennedy's turn, and Dawn just stared at her with a 'You've gotta be kidding' face. "Fine, that's a gimmie."

"Xander! Those jerks stole the front!" The petite slayer complained when her friends made it to the platform, and she handed the stuffed animal off to Andrew. "Your life depends on it."

When the group reformed earlier, she got sympathy from Willow over Faith's carefree attitude and new attachment; strange as they were, it made her giggle and not want to beat her to death with a shovel. Looking at the girl's pride and joy closely now, she had to admit to her having discerning, good taste in squeezeably soft, inanimate objects.

"Second row! Dash!" He exclaimed, and they wound up next to a thirteen-year-old boy who was gripping the shoulder bars tightly. Whispered, "Late first-timer. Probably a dare."

"I might scream with him."

"No worries, Buff. I've got your back; we'll come up with an surefire cover story."

"Best friend a girl could have."

A few rows back, Willow and Fred were sitting with a large, coaster enthusiast. "All right! Whoo! This is gonna rule! Yeah! Hit the switch!"

The witch cringed. "Up till now – "

"Today was nice, demonless, and un-annoying? Giganimous ditto." Fred smiled at her, brightly. Unless the new, chipper Faith was a demon, but they would've noticed horns. "But this ain't hardly anything. This old, wooden coaster when I was sixteen did at least eighty. Thought my jaw was gonna shatter, it was so rickety. I went on three times."

The contraption shifted into gear with a loud 'CHONK,' and they were moving up the initial hill. Turning their heads to see the explosions of color being set off, there were 'Oohs' and 'Ahhs'…until they plummeted. And Faith couldn't stop smiling. This was hands down, her second best memory, and nothing had to be beat up for her to enjoy herself. She kept that in mind when going through the thrill-ride's first loop. Coolest day ever. Definitely. Provided Andrew behaved himself with her bear.

Late August nights in Los Angeles were a far cry from cool and comfortable. Hot, sticky and stifling was generally a more apt description. On the plus side, vampires, despite their insides remaining at room temperature all the days of their eternal lives, found the heat much too oppressive for prowling and killing. The same could be said of a lot of demons, except Kennedy handled the fanged ones almost exclusively – leaving the others to Angel Investigations – and it was her night to patrol…until she was given a reprieve.

That meant she could go with the elder slayers and Willow and Xander to 'Shapes,' a club/bar downtown that wasn't discriminatory. Being the oldest once-Potential had perks. It let everyone and anyone in of all shapes and sizes (hence the name), that was at least seventeen – though you had to still be twenty-one to drink. A fairly modern place with above average bathroom cleanliness, it had a large, dance floor, and every unhealthy snack known to man. Plus, a never-ending supply of remixes.

After she and Dawn had worn Buffy down, the newly seventeen-year-old was allowed to come along too, for a proper, yet slightly belated, birthday celebration. The slayer was two years ahead of her fellow brunette in age, but she only pulled that card out when she wanted to harass her. Sadly, harassment was not permitted while dancing, which was what they were doing. The club tried cranking its air conditioning, but perspiration in these situations was inevitable. Inevitable, yeah.

Eventually she'd get the guts to formally ask her out…eventually. She was hesitant to start something with girls who played for either side. It was her own, mental block, and she wasn't sure if Dawn knew what she wanted from this.

Though if she stopped living in her head for two seconds, she'd pick up on the fact that Dawn's 'wild abandon' style of grooving was a pretty big signal. Besides, her eyes kept drifting from Faith and Xander's spot on the floor, to Buffy and Willow at one of the tables, where she tried not to laugh at the expression of utter shock and fear targeted towards the free-spirit she had the privilege of dancing with. The blonde was showing remarkable maturity and restraint; Kennedy could tell the urge to 'mother' was strong.

Whatever wrinkles needed ironing, it'd be taken care of – her ex was good people.

"It's okay to breathe, Buffy. She's a responsible, grown person, and you're trusting her. It's perfectly normal; you-you should be very proud." Willow was partially teasing her friend as they sat a few feet away. "Aww. I think Kennedy's kinda intimidated by her. That's so…" Buffy focused on her, still distraught. "…new. But not cute in any way whatsoever."

"I was hoping I was imagining things." Buffy frowned, because her sister possibly being involved with someone, especially Kennedy, was normal and strange at the same time. Faith and her 'fence-jumping' innuendo… "Can't I still be imagining things?" Her friend just sipped an alcohol, fruit concoction. "You had to go and break up, didn't you? Damn it."

"We talked and we both admitted to the drifting towards other things, and…people," The redhead hadn't needed to add that, but 'Off-Kilter Buffy' made the most priceless faces, "and how we shoulda figured out that our relationship fit pretty snuggly into the 'Wartime' category. It got us through a tough situation and was amazing during the whole 'during' part, so no regrets, but it wasn't really the 'forever' type, and why am I explaining again?"

"Because I tried to guilt you in a way that was totally non-serious and you didn't wanna catch the 'non' part?"

"It wasn't there to catch! There was just a big, invisible, air pocket, and you only catch air in jars. Do you see any? Because I didn't come jar-equipped; I'm sure I didn't. No extra weight or anything…that's how I'd know."

"Like hell! It was clear as day. Or, since it's the PM, night-vision goggles."

Willow mock-glared, and then grinned mischievously. "If it makes you feel any better, Kennedy's gentle most of the time. You probably wouldn't think so, but – "

"No. No, no, no, no. *No*. Don't even kid about that. We're never bringing up this subject again, and it's not up now. It's down…ugh, it's not that, either! Quiet. Words are evil." The big sister felt queasy in the pit of her stomach. "Have you been hanging out with Faith? Because if she put you up to this, I'll – "

"How could I? You're like two magnets who always wind up stuck together; you're like…a Slayer Super-Magnet. That's un-pullapartable." The witch commented, and then smiled enthusiastically. "Ooh, let's talk about your love of attraction. Have you always been a magnet appreciator? Cause I don't remember ever knowing that before. Isn't that funny?"

Deadpan, "First it was refrigerators, but then magnets seemed like the natural, next step. When did you start thinking curvy, lab coats and glasses were fashionable?"

"You could've at least couched it." Frown.

"What? It was couched." There was silence for a moment and she reconsidered. "Fine, it was love-seated. But look! Faith's out there with Xander. She's been at a distance for fifteen – "

"Five. It's only been one song."

Just felt like fifteen minutes, then. "Song and a half. The point is, we can be separated." Buffy looked out to the floor, and saw several more females eying Xander up than there had been. His eye was still a blow to his self-esteem, and Faith helped boost it. "Hey, she went fishing for him."

They watched long enough to see that he was happier than he had been in months, which was nice, because they wouldn't have wanted him to leave for England tomorrow with a black cloud over his head. Willow had a cloud of purple nervousness over hers, however. "I like Fred."

"Hadn't noticed." The blonde smirked. "C'mon, ask her out; how could she not like you back? Besides, you know you fall hard for sweet people. Oz, Tara…and they'd have to approve. Fred is like a human Pixie Stick." She assured, while her friend blushed. "I guess you're attracted to magnets too, huh? Ones that are drenched in sap."

"Huge sap fan." The redhead admitted, starting to grin again, moistening her lips rather deliberately. "Mm…love it."

A wide-eyed gasp, "Willow! Oh my God. I don't care what you say, Faith's been coaching, and it's gotta stop." There was a long swig of beer from the shell-shocked.

"I can be spicy all on my own, thank you." Willow firmly asserted, and that confidence faded as she tried to apply logic to the waiting with Fred. "But, can't date yet – when the 'life train' stops moving so fast, it'll be less bumpy. Yeah, nice and safe at a station is better."

Despite the many years of hearing different incarnations of her best friend's unique speech patterns, Buffy had to go with a blank stare. "Huh?"

"Stuff's changing again, you know? Giles and Xander are leaving tomorrow, they're taking most of the girls, maybe even Andrew…he is a good filer/organizer. Plus, starting Monday? I'm officially in charge of the Mystical Division, Angel's employee, with-with my own office. And business cards! Hello, responsibility. So I'm waiting for things to settle."

"I get it." Everyone was accepting responsibility, and she didn't want it. Not in the 'good fight' – was she wrongly being selfish? "As long as it's not cause of Kennedy. Or Tara."

"Tara's always there no matter what. I love her; she helped me be me. She isn't in the way, though. Not anymore." The redhead smiled. "You're right. Fred would've passed with flying, multi-colors if they ever met, and after, Tara would ask you and Faith, 'What in the name of chocolaty fudge?' Then she'd conk your heads together, in a…completely polite way, because you're both dry-humping morons. Or um, maybe I'm mixing up what she would do, with what I wanna do. Kinda confused now."

"Gonna ignore that." The slayer rapped her fingers on the table, knowing she couldn't avoid this. "It isn't…we've had feelings for a long time. That isn't the hold up. It's more, well…okay, see, I'm like cookie dough…actually, she is, too…we're a glob of cookie dough, and – "

"Oh, I thought he was kidding." Willow cringed, interrupting the analogy. "I heard how this goes, and boy, are you two ready to be eaten." She flushed, picturing. "Wow, images." She was kicked under the table, and she yelped. "Bad, dirty, banished images."

"Again, maturely ignoring. It's not something we wanna hurry into, because we don't want to make the same mistakes. Or all new ones. We're trying to figure out who we are and get comfy with that before going anywhere…anywhere that's further. And there's insane amounts of 'happy' already – it's powerful, Will. Just being cautious till we're sure."

"Of what?"

"Ourselves." Buffy half-smirked at Willow's befuddlement, exhaling. "If I wasn't me, I wouldn't understand us, either."

"Well whenever you're comfy, at least you know how she feels about you. And vice-versa."

"Yeah…" She wiped her hands on her pants and stood up, thoughts pounding in her mind. "I miss fresh air. If they crash at some point, tell 'em I'll be back."

The witch nodded without argument, and spoke. "Buffy? Dawn could just be going through a phase where she's curious. I mean, the one boy she kissed did, you know, turn out to be a vampire – "

"Runs in the family." Buffy grumbled, while Willow kept going.

" – and she loved me and Tara, so just…wait'n'see, okay? But about Kennedy…if they…she'll take care of her. She really is a hugantic softy."

Grin, "Hugantic? Hmm, doesn't sound very Willow-ish." Uh huh, Willow had it bad. "I like Kennedy, I do, and they have fun together, so I'm trusting. Dawn's not stupid; she wants to fall for someone attractive that has a slayer, sex drive? Terrific. I'll be the cool, older sister and hope she knows what she's doing." The blonde promised herself, fears temporarily squashed as she then went to a side exit. "Thank god the monks forgot to give her my issues."

Buffy had walked up the alleyway she found herself in, and stood just back from the end that fed into the bustling, busy, city street, against the wall. From where she was, she could see the club's neon sign flickering to the right, with the A/triangle in 'SHAPES' burnt out completely. Why was it that seemingly every sign meant to be fully lit and bright, never stayed that way for long? It was like they were afraid of achieving their maximum potential. As far as illumination goes, anyway. Potential. Had many a meaning, and if ever a word was branded into her brain…hmm, maybe she thought too much.

Or maybe she had thought too little recently. Been too free of cares, and was now forced, with her core group of seven years disbanding, to make a damn decision. This wasn't Sunnydale anymore, which had served as her own, personal vacuum. No matter how crazy things got, she had her home, her family right there in close quarters, and her Hellmouth to defend. Believe it or not, there were constants, and it was on occasion, comfortable. Comfortable in the sense that you know which wolves are constantly outside your door, so you've adapted to it, and made peace with the dangerousness of your existence.

But her vacuum had collapsed in on itself three months earlier in rather dramatic fashion, and for the first time, she'd turned to mindless fun as a diversion, stopping herself from doing any serious thinking. Faith got onboard with the idea, too. They kept each other preoccupied, and she hid from the fact that she was a slayer. Not *the* Slayer. Not anymore. Now she was Buffy, who just happened to have the ability to slay. She was all sorts of fine with that, because she had lived up to her potential in that area, and there were plenty of girls who were soon going to have that chance also, Kennedy among them.

Her biggest fear was that something would happen, leading to her sister being devastated. There were risks dating a slayer, which Buffy knew firsthand, as did her exes. It was a high-risk, sometimes nail-bitingly, nerve-wracking situation. Any night could be the last, after all. She didn't want Dawn to suffer that, but one thing she'd learned time and again was, if a thing is meant to happen, it will, despite outside interference. So she would stand aside, letting them live their lives. Because she could be blowing this all out of proportion, and it could end as fast as it was beginning. Who knew?

She'd exaggerated her shock and awe in there with Willow, and it did catch her off-guard, though she really did like Kennedy. Their potential was obvious.

And there it was again. She had the potential to be 'Buffy,' who wasn't that horrible of a person. After gradually losing track of her around sixteen, seventeen, so far it had been an interesting rediscovery process. Except, having this option available still scared her. Like she'd told Faith, falling back into slaying would be easy, because she knew it. However, life and 'Buffy' remained mysteries. She had a choice, and picking 'Life' meant having to get one, and deciding not to slay as intensely, despite having the power. Especially the power to make a difference in the heavy battles, but funnily enough, the unknown? More attractive.

Was it wrong to want to go somewhere with a miniscule demon population? Because ultimately she knew that picking 'Slaying,' at least for her, meant eventual, crushing misery. The new girls could mostly avoid it; there'd be teams of them working together, and never alone. Never feeling like the one girl the universe chose to screw over. They could even have semi-normal lives, she supposed. But her? She was still wrestling, while on the street, people were just living. Worrying about normal problems and going to mostly normal, paying jobs. All right – something had to be telling her which direction to go in.

There was no denying it, actually. It was only a matter of taking the step.

"Rich honeys like us shouldn't be hangin' around alleys past sunset, B. People might get the wrong impression." Faith said, somehow managing to saunter and swagger over, simultaneously.

"Which wrong impression?" Buffy questioned back, smiling as the brunette stood next to her.

"The one that says we're a couple of bored, 'Virgin Bettys' waitin' for the next John Q. in line, to offer us a spin…smooth'n'full preferred."

Smirk. "You couldn't pull off 'virgin' if you tried, who are you kidding?"

The bird was flipped. "Wait, see, you'd be all innocent, right? Pigtailed, decked out 'Catholic Girl' with a lolly – whole nine yards. Like that video, only the sucker'd actually buy it, and you wouldn't come off like a goddamn, sperm bank. Cause you're sugary and shit. Me? I'd be the smoking, rebel chick who's just dyin' to pop outta my shell. Course I'd pretend to talk you into it, there'd be this whole, 'Yes/No' thing, and then WHAM." Faith assaulted the air quite forcefully to punctuate the severity. "Wouldn't know what truck hit 'em. We'd lay the dude out with some kinda slayer double team, you know, after pulling off a wicked, finishing combo – "

"If we didn’t, what would be the point?" The blonde rhetorically agreed.

" – then sic the law on his pathetic ass."

Faith just knew when to come out, turn on the funny, and amuse her when she needed it. There was no other way to put it – she was a hell of an awesome person.

"Yeah, cops are pretty useful when they're on your side, aren't they?"

"Thumbs up." Then Bostonian made the appropriate gesture, and they both kind of slid down the wall to sit on the concrete, holding their knees up near their chests. "But a mil and a half each…damn. Can you believe that? *A mil and a half*! We're in the seven figures."

"Still waiting for it to sink in. I mean, this morning we were poor with no figures. Well, money-wise, anyway." Buffy grinned at her sauciness, that was mostly for Faith's benefit, and then asked, "How bout you? Feel like a millionaire?"

"Hell no. Not even in my wildest." Faith said, shaking her head disbelief. "Giles came way deep outta left, didn't he? Being 'Papa MoneyBags' like that? He didn't hafta, 'specially to me, and all I could say was, 'Uh, thanks.'" She was completely thrown by this foreign, streak of luck. The generosity had been a mind-blowing shocker. "Entire life, I'm corkscrewed over and again. Nothing new there, had years of practice. But when I make the quick decision to bail on a life sentence," She ticked off the events with her fingers, "get beat down by a giant, talkin' crag, shoot up, then roll into town for the Kong of apocalypses and almost get the army toasted? Man, now it's like I'm so golden I could piss the stuff. What did I do that was that fucking great? Nada."

Yesterday, because that's when everyone was free, there was a 'Farewell' party, and then that evening, Giles had taken Buffy and Faith out for a quiet dinner. They both thought it was to fill them in about some last minute specifics of the England operation, and to field their suggestions and ideas. While he did do that, the big surprise was his giving them all the necessary information they'd need to access bank accounts he'd set up, when ready to. Together, the accounts amounted to three million, American dollars.

It had come from the Council's assets, and according to him, though it seemed like a large sum of money, it made only the smallest of dents in the grand total. He believed it would be enough to get them comfortably situated however they chose to proceed, and thought his now, non-existent employers should pay for it, given their shoddy treatment of them and all slayers prior. Buffy and Faith agreed that it was more than plenty, and were rather dumbfounded during the remainder of the meal.

Afterwards, Buffy took him aside and made sure this was something he could afford to do, and he allayed her concerns, because as soon as he received dual government support, funds ceased to be a problem. Then he told her that if she or Faith ever wanted to join them overseas, they'd always be welcome, but he didn't say it like he was hinting at them to come. If anything, he was hinting at them to stay far away and go live peacefully, wherever that might be. So she hugged him, and then they all wished each other luck.

This was what the petite blonde meant about something trying to nudge her in a certain direction, and she and the brunette seemed to be both fighting it. For their own reasons.

"You always do that. You always talk like you don't deserve things, cause you're somehow not as good as me. I'm not better at this, Faith, and definitely not saint material. If anything, you're the better one. Basically at life." She told her in earnest. "You've seen the best and worst of the world, and survived. I haven't been there yet – I've been in LA and Sunnydale, mostly avoiding all contact with human people. That's how I am; been trying to really fix that, to stop turning into 'Brick Wall Buffy,' but it's still the truth. You've got like this, electric personality though, and it works.

"It makes people wanna be around you – I'm amazed I've kept any friends. And okay, yeah, you've made mistakes. Everybody does, but the difference? When you *voluntarily* went to prison, you made it through. I would've broken within a week, you didn't; must have helped too, because you're, I dunno, more grounded and calm, with this…quiet, wise, experienced look. Constantly. Even when you're 'Miss Life of the Club' in there." God, those eyes drew you in. "Plus, you're tougher than hell and about ten times more gorgeous. I feel like I've aged thirty years since, gee, forever ago. It's pretty much all downhill."

There was enough moonlight in the alleyway to call attention to the blush that arose on Faith's cheeks, but she recovered, incredulously asking, "Huh? You have no idea how sexy you are, do ya? You're mature, yeah – in all the right areas. It's the way you move, the presentation…you're like an old-time, movie star or something. Graceful. With mystery goin' on behind the scenes. You just stand around, minding your own business, and people still zero in. And your body? Buffy, *c'mon*. I've seen it, touched it, test-drove it. Makes me kinda an expert, so tacking on a few years can only improve a creation that fine."

Buffy just sort of sat there for a second, allowing them both to absorb the much appreciated exchange of compliments, and it took another second for her to find her voice. "See? Right there. That was just…you wouldn't have said that back then. Not like that. You couldn't have, cause of confidence, and everything else. Including me probably wigging on you. But you're a different person now, who doesn't belong in jail. And…thank you. For saying it."

"Same here." They smiled at one another, before the younger slayer frowned. "Except I still busted out and fucked up – doesn't make sense."

"And I didn't? One of my best friends lost his eye because of my brilliant plan to charge straight into an obvious trap. *That's* a fuck up. Then I wanted to go in for 'Round Two,' again, minus info. At least you had a strategy." The older would never forgive herself for that. "And here? You sacrificed yourself to keep Angelus out of commission. Coulda died. That's the definition of 'selfless.' S'what a Slayer has to be – while ignoring the stressful, self-destruction – and that's what you are."

"Also a murderer, B. How's that balance the scales?"

"No, you're not. Not anymore. Don't you…?" She trailed off when she saw the stubborn refusal in Faith's eyes, and was thoughtful for a moment. "We’re gonna go back and forth for the rest of our lives, aren't we? Tearing ourselves down, telling each other how dumb we sound, and it'll probably never change how we feel." Faith couldn't argue. "But I'm asking, seriously try to believe this? There's no way there's a cosmic, point system. Cause as many bad decisions as we've piled up, we still have heaps of undeserved goldenness.

"Or…maybe we do. Deserve it." She decided to be a little selfish for once. "It's not like we caved, right? Wanted to, but we kept fighting. Because we could. Pulled ourselves out of the dark and disturbing, just in time for more battling, and even had a few positives along the way." She paused. "It's gotta be the kind of person you are at the end that matters – the *actual* end. Whether hearts are in the right place and all. Doesn't catching a break mean we're on track? I just wish it didn't leave my options so scarily wide open; I know you said 'choice' was a good thing, but – "

"Nah, I get it – you ain't the only one." Faith admitted, which came as a surprise to her partner, who thought 'slaying' was a passion, and at the very least, that she would stay in LA and be on-call if Angel needed help with the major opposition. "But you oughta check out Xander. The man's got charm rollin' off him, and the 'dangerous' angle? Plays it to the friggin' hilt with that patch. Isn't holding him back now. I mean, if you wanna talk about somebody who's got choice…" Given the jarring shift in topic, apparently that conversation was going to have to wait.

"I'm glad. We saw what you did for him – it was sweet."

"Just gave him a nudge. He did the grunt work." The brunette grinned with a wink, and Buffy sighed in mock exasperation, because that was what she was supposed to do. "Uh, listen, Willow said – "

"That I had to escape because my sister was almost simultaneously on top of and underneath her ex-girlfriend, when she wasn't circling her like a wild, starving animal on some X-rated, nature show?"

"Maybe, yeah. I told her you were square, though; that it was a big sis thing, not so much the young, 'femme love.' Cause, well," Faith shot her a knowing smile, "hey."

"Yep, and she knows."

Gape. "You mean my pep talk was for nothin'? And she just let me yak? Cruel."

"She wants us to pick up the pace, I think. Don't know why she pictured it happening in an alley, but…" Buffy shook her head, rather flabbergasted at the 'smirky, sexual humorist' side of her friend. "How did I miss the part where she became such a horn dog? And upfront about it?"

"She was used to slidin' down the rainbow daily, and now she's denied. All bets are off…least till Fred hops on." The Bostonian felt the shoulder jab, which she good-naturedly returned. "Nobody gets our sitch, B. When Robin called this morning? He was on me about us, too. Better watch his step – they find out he's a 'supporter,' swear a buncha PTA moms'll try to have him blacklisted. Which is kinda ironic."

It was probably good that he'd avoided an administrative position after the one at his last school. Teaching fifth grade would be a more productive contribution to society, anyhow, and that left everyone else but them, currently set for the immediate future. Great.

"This is what we get for not sharing."

"Whatever. It's our baggage that we gotta work out – heavy and personal." Faith argued for their side, brushing off the pressure. "Like you said, we're gonna bust our jaws everyday, pullin' each other outta the pit, unless we get a handle. We can't cannonball into that end of the pool yet, takes time. Plus, you add the location? Kiss of death, no question."

"Exactly." Relief. "And that's not the kind of kissing I wanna do."

"Me either. Hate to disappoint 'em, but they'll hafta suck it up. We've got our own vibe."

"Besides, it isn't like we don't know." Buffy said, purposefully leaving the 'what' out, because once it was spoken, restraint became near impossible. "Or like we're in denial."

"S'obvious." Faith agreed, though cautiously. "I've known since…damn near ever."

"So have I, I guess. It's just one of those things you – "

"Know. Cause – "

"You can't not. Because you just do."

Faith questioned silently, 'No shit?' Then she spoke. "For a lot of reasons."

"A lot of 'should've-been-seen-before' reasons." Buffy's silent answer was, 'None.'

"And it's intense."

"Well duh. And it's also amazing sometimes." The elder slayer said innocently, the glower ignored.

"So we do, yeah?" '*Sometimes*? What the hell is that?'

"Uh huh." Buffy tilted her head onto the younger slayer's shoulder after communicating, 'Kidding. Jesus.'

Faith smiled, regardless of the anticlimactic moment. "Need to give these issues a burial. *Pronto*."

"Uh huh. Too bad we're so pathetic."

"Speak for yourself, babe. I stop at 'insecure.' Feel sorry for you, though." Still, she was on Cloud Nine and a Half, anyway. "Crap…I want you."

"Huge, effing, mutual ditto." Buffy somehow made a self-censor more powerful than a full-on curse. With a sigh, she reluctantly rose to her feet and helped Faith up. "Oh, I didn't wanna say anything earlier, because you were venting at the time, but, 'So golden I could piss the stuff?' Um, you should already be doing that. On a regular basis. Starting at birth, generally. Unless you have some weird infection…"

They began to trek back to the doors. "Got five words for ya: Go blow a horse's – "

Faith cut herself off as the door flew open, and Kennedy charged out, ramming a vampire face first against the wall. The girl was pissed. Turning him, she hammered his face, socked him in the gut not once but thrice, and kneed his groin so hard even the females winced. Then she staked him as Dawn came rushing out. They went up to their elders, describing a mile a minute, what had transpired. In animated detail.

A guy was hitting on Dawn, Kennedy got annoyed, then they had this covert exchange of nods where they both confirmed he was very much a vampire, making the slayer happy because she was actually allowed to kill him. Then he had a buddy and it was all supposed to have been awesome and involve a chair, some trash talk, and a distraction involving parachute pants, but Buffy had zoned rather quickly once seeing that everything was fine.

When the teens returned into the club, chatting excitedly – in a few hours, maybe Dawn would realize what Kennedy semi-admitted in the thrill of the moment – Faith knew truly why the budding relationship threw her friend off balance, except there was nothing to say. Kennedy could get the job done; they saw it. She was left with only one offer available:

"Wanna get tanked?"

Blink. "Yes, please."

Buffy stifled a yawn by bringing a hand up in front of her mouth the following night, then patting it a few times before letting it fall tiredly by her waist. She sighed and turned her head to her side lazily, looking at Faith lounging on the crate beside hers. The brunette’s face was screwed up with concentration and she was talking to herself softly…though when she caught the spectator staring, she pretended to be clearing her throat.

Angel and company had taken up positions inside the warehouse about a half an hour before, beating the Ph’raha cultists to it by about ten minutes. She and Faith were acting as backup on this particular mission and had positioned themselves by the edge of the docks amongst the same piles of crates they were lounging on. The shadows from the boxes hid them, while allowing a perfect view of the one warehouse's sole exit.

"Okay, okay, I got it." Faith declared with a sudden excitement, grinning and nodding her head in Buffy’s direction.

"'Bout time." The shorter slayer commented as she focused her attention on Faith. "I mean…yay." She added, though her partner was already utterly unimpressed by her enthusiasm. Or, lack thereof.

"North Dakota," Faith started counting it off on her right hand, "Nebraska, New Mexico, Nevada, New York, New Jersey, and…" She stumbled there, bringing the heel of her left hand to rub her temple roughly. "New…New Hampshire!" She exclaimed finally, shooting Buffy the double, finger guns before smoothly merging that action into a triumphant, 'Cabbage Patch' dance.

Buffy watched this a moment, a genuine smile spreading across her face. The truth was, she was rather impressed by Faith’s relative genius when it came to the deceptively simple, 'Alphabet Game.' The darker slayer had been kicking her ass for the past fifteen minutes, and it seemed the trend was going to continue, because she had no idea if Faith was even correct.

"Ya like that, huh?" The Bostonian winked at the blonde once she’d exhausted all of her fly, dance steps. She had spotted the appreciative look sent her way after her victorious listing, and she was feeling rather impressed, too. With herself. It was nice to have Buffy appreciate something about her character that didn’t involve pummeling people…even if it was only a useless ability to easily memorize facts. Well, mostly useless.

"You know? I do." Buffy met Faith’s playfully twinkling eyes. "I'm all a flutter; think I feel a swoon coming on." She laid the back of her hand on her forehead as if she were suffering from a touch of the vapors.

"Don't worry, I'll catch you. I'm suave like that." Faith replied, smirking and reaching into the inside pocket of her jacket. "Need a light?"

"S'okay, I’m already smokin'." Buffy shot back, grinning wickedly. That wasn't her best, but she was still pleased. "Hey," She said as her eyes moved to scan the warehouse's exterior, watching a dark-colored convertible pull up to it, "looks like the guest of honor finally made it to the party."

"Just in time for cake and punch." The darkly clad figure exiting the car never left Faith's sight.

"Be careful with that!" A disreputable-looking man with long, dark, greasy hair called out. "Everything has to be exactly right; we can’t get another one of those at Price Club. It breaks? Every one of your bones is almost certainly next."

He turned away from the younger member of the group, mourning what had become of the once glorious Ph'raha cult. Their members had been dwindling over the years, and the recruits that were brought in to replenish their numbers were disappointing to say the least. They were nothing but children, and largely incompetent ones to boot.

But, taking a deep, calming breath, he reminded himself that that was all about to come to an end. The dignity the Ph’raha had once carried themselves with, and the respect the name had once inspired would soon be restored. Following the completion of this maddeningly complicated ritual, they'd once again become a formidable force. All he had to do was get them through it without incident.

"We thank you for safely delivering to us the Box of Amonhra." He said, bowing his head respectfully at the vampire who had just arrived.

He'd had men positioned by the door to take the box as soon as the vampire entered the building, his anxiousness overwhelming his manners somewhat. However, now that the box was in his possession, he decided it best to make friends, even if the vampire was only a middleman. After all, one never knew when former contacts would come in handy again; he wanted to keep all options open.

It was unlikely that the Ph'raha would ever need to ask anything of anyone ever again after the successful resurrection of their leader – the great demon, Alucard, whose essence was imprisoned within the box they'd just received – but he was of the mind that it was better not to burn bridges that didn’t need to be.

"The money." The vampire grunted, holding out a delicate and pale hand. The nails were painted black, while icy-blue veins could be seen through his skin. He was one of those 'pretty boy' vampires with long, pale hair to contrast, yet compliment, his cared for nails.

He thought he was something special, though if the vampire decided to stay around, he would quickly find out how truly insignificant he was.

"Syril," The dark-haired man spoke, turning his head lightly to the side to watch as the box was placed on the dais by one of his men, while another prepared the vials, "the briefcase." His eyes trained on the man in question.

"Yes, Mr. Carpenter." Syril responded quickly, picking up the shiny, metal briefcase and then starting towards the pair.

Mr. Carpenter noticed the hesitation in the man’s step as he approached, and shook his head. It really was impossible to find any henchmen of quality these days. If the hesitation continued, he would feed him to Alucard first when their Master was reborn.

"The Box of Amonhra." Wesley breathed softly into the microphone that was pinned to the collar of his jacket. "The essence of the demon is contained within it."

"How long do we have?" Angel always kept sight of the men in the center of the room, occasionally darting his eyes to the spots where he knew his friends were stationed.

"Anywhere from ten to twenty minutes, I should think. It all depends on how quickly they begin the 'Restoration' ritual. It looks as if they have all the necessary components, which means, once the vials of Keudeh are removed, it would probably be a wise idea to strike as fast as possible." The Englishman bounced on his feet, trying to get his blood flowing again so he'd would be prepared when the order was given.

"Be ready."

As he found Gunn who nodded, their leader/boss/CEO wondered if maybe they should've used Wolfram and Hart's team and not decided to go it alone for old times sake. Oh well. Too late now.

"How come I remember butterflies…and something creepy about a bread box?" Buffy asked Faith as they tried other ways to occupy themselves outside the warehouse, and unfortunately, the talk turned to their previous night of binge drinking. "Because that doesn't even make 'drunk sense.' Ooh! Was I craving buttered toast? If that wasn't it, just forget I asked."

"Beats me." Faith responded, twirling their ancient scythe around in a rapid 360, and slicing at the air with smooth, swift strokes. "I'm still tryin' to burn off this hangover. Wicked heavy one, too. Twelve hours straight, my head's been buzzin'. Next time, gotta take it easy on the 'mystery' shots. All about moderation." She took a few more swings, and then slid the scythe behind her back, into the holster. "And I'm sorta…irked, ya know? That we didn't wake up – "

"Naked together? Yeah, would've been nice. It always happens that way in movies." The blonde agreed, helpfully finishing the sentence. Comfortable, snug, and warm – not at all your typical, 'morning after' shock. "'Course, the whole lead up to it would probably just be another thing for my brain to have trouble finding, but still, no complaints from me."

Seeing Buffy get into a stretching routine for the third time in the past half-hour, the brunette tried to squash her impatience, among other things. "Know what else is irkin' me? Your fuses might be burnt up top, but you've still been goddamn chipper all day. What's the secret?"

"Easy – when you've been hung over from mystical beer that turns you into an evil Flintstone, the regular stuff? Tame. It's like a bad ice-cream headache, really, and that's about it."

"I hate you."

"No, you don't." Buffy smiled sweetly. "It's the total opposite, actually."

"Eh, I ride the fence."

"Uh huh." Nod. "No matter how many brain cells I lose, there's no way in hell I'd ever forget the 'fence riding.'"

Faith smirked, with plenty of ego behind it and her tone. "Weren't supposed to." Then she eyed the convertible parked next to the warehouse, yet again. "Wonder where the delivery vamp stole it from? Cause, damn." She loved the bike they 'borrowed' from Wolfram and Hart's garage, though.

"Has a nice paint job." The older slayer didn't get cars, and was laughed at. She stopped her stretching as she couldn't get any more loose, and got behind the younger, wrapping an arm around her waist. "Since when do you use the word 'irked'?"

"Hey, I have a vocab – nice and long, too."

"Was never a question. It's just not something you hear everyday; I mean, I don't say it. Giles doesn't even say it. So – "

A tongue stuck out, and then retracted. "Why'd we say we'd do this, B? It's a drag."

"Because. Because Angel means a lot to both of us, and we'd be jerks if we said we wouldn't do backup," Buffy glanced up at the large window on the upper floor, where all the action was, "and close to everyone we left Sunnydale with has fled the country – or the state – except for Willow, Kennedy, and my sister, so we ran out of other plans to have. Plus, there's also the huge, guilt factor. From sitting on our 'Chosen' asses all summer." She explained without stopping, and then took a breath. "Did I cover everything?"

"Think you got it all, yeah. It's just, like I said – I'm done with war." They went over to the wall, and Buffy picked up the sword and the walkie-talkie she had put there, putting the sword in a holster similar to Faith's, and palming the communication device. "He's gotta be bitin' off more than he can suck, running what he is."

"Guess he'll find out. Especially when he starts sleeping there, and we get kicked out of the hotel. But he's still following his destiny and all. As one of the good guys." The blonde waited a second. "Speaking of, I think I've been patient. Extremely. So now I wanna know – why don't you wanna slay anymore? You love it. I'm who always complained."

Angel's voice over the walkie-talkie impeded any response. "The seller's coming your way with the box."

The slayers stood up as a vampire came crashing through the large, second-floor window, and landed hard on the hood of the convertible. It left a sizeable dent, which pissed Faith off more than anything else.

"Thanks for the heads up." His ex told him, dryly.

"We need it. You can't let it get open."

"I thought you only could with a ritual? Which you're supposed to be stopping."

"We did, but apparently it was just for show. Ph'rahas are traditionalists."

"What's inside?"

"An ancient demon that no one's seen in seven-hundred years. We don't exactly…know much about it. Except that it's, you know, evil, so…"

Faith shot Buffy an, 'I told you so' look. "He got himself into this shit. Let's just motor, do our part, then we can go back to sitting on our firm, 'Chosen' asses, and I can down another bottle of gel tabs. And what the hell? How come we got walkies and they got spy mics?"

"We're on it." Buffy told him, and clicked off.

The vampire had gotten in the car, meaning they ran to their sleek, midnight blue two-wheeler in a hurry. The brunette kick-started the engine, while the blonde jumped on behind her. They followed the convertible – sans helmets, because of style issues – that had screeched out of there at an unhealthy speed. Getting on his tail, Buffy then began to pray.

And pray, and pray. Especially when Faith really gunned the engine after they moved onto a highway, which – thanks to the ungodly late hour – was more or less deserted. They were outside the LA city limits now. If there was one positive, it was that the location of the docks and warehouse meant they didn't have to spend forever trying to chase the damn convertible through the more busy, metro streets. There was a good deal of swerving and sharp turns that Buffy could've done without, though. Yet Faith couldn't have been happier.

The open road was finally letting them gain ground. Hopefully that meant this whole, 'extreme driving' fetish would come to a non-lethal end very soon. But it was most likely a false hope, because, well, had either of them given thought to how they should wrap it up? Nope. And that wasn't reassuring. Nor was Faith's humming of that song from The Lost Boys (that played during the motorcycle race scene on the beach). Wasn't good at all. For one thing, vampires didn't fly – late eighties monster flicks gave the blonde a headache.

"What's your big plan?" She asked loudly into Faith's ear. "Drive till something explodes?"

"Sorta." The brunette replied. "You have a better suggestion? Cause, uh, I didn't hear you throwin' out any."

"I've been a little busy trying not to fall off!"

"Oh, and it's not like I'm *steering*!"

"I never said you weren't! But you're the one who *had* to be all 'butch' and go live some whacko, action movie fantasy. Without *helmets*."

"They didn't have 'em in my color, what can I say? Had to be Jet, or I was goin' commando with the safety. Got standards, yunno." Faith explained, and it made perfect sense to her. "Now either cork it, or figure out our next play, Sundance. And you wanna ease off on the chest? I'm concentrating here." She switched lanes so they could pull beside the car.

Buffy's offended gasp was buried by all the much louder noise, and then she wasn't allowed to properly express just how offended she truly was, because something more important caught her attention. She paled. "Fine, you want a suggestion? Truck."

Faith's brow knitted from lack of comprehension. "Huh?" That's when she saw that they were going head-to-head with an 18-wheeler, and its horn bellowed. "Fuck!"

She avoided the behemoth vehicle at the last second – as well as quite a mess for the 'Public Works' people – screeching, skidding, and spinning a couple times to come to a dead halt. The bike wobbled from side-to-side before she steadied it completely, then they both sucked in a breath to collect their wits, and made sure every limb remained attached. Strangely calm, the elder slayer spoke when everything checked out:

"So…how's that 'concentrating' thing going?"

The Bostonian said not a word. The look she wore went from one of shock, to one of gritty determination. It was suddenly not fun – she was ready to get this finished. Her foot forcefully began them moving again; she turned the cycle around, and just like that, it was doing eighty. The wind hammered their faces, roared in theirs ears.

Soon the rear of the convertible was inches away, as she rode the vampire's ass. She debated doing something cool like popping a wheelie and slamming back down on the trunk, but ultimately, that would've been pointless. So she attempted for a second time to move alongside and was successful, keeping pace with minimal effort.

The blonde had to come up with a solution before he chose to run them off the road. It came to her quickly; she could excel under pressure sometimes. Taking the scythe from off of Faith's back, she yelled, "Bend down and keep it steady!"

Faith lowered herself against the motorcycle's front-end, while her partner adjusted the grip she had on the weapon then let it fly. It spun through the air like a cold-seeking missile…lodging the blade right into the side of the vampire's skull. In a not very pretty manner, the convertible, on an angle, found its way head-on into the guardrail, where it crunched together like an expensive, tin can.

The slayers had dropped their speed, but still jolted upon reaching a stationary position. The brunette jumped off the bike and Buffy removed herself with more care, happy to be grounded. She immediately became the recipient of the mother of all high fives. "Dude! Holy…I mean, *whoa*. That thing went like, VHOOSH, and the car went like, BLAM! Okay, that was *the* most kick ass, tightest…B, you are totally my new, action hero. Who cares if you're this big?" Faith's thumb and forefinger squished together.

With an 'Aw, shucks!' face, "Well, it was really noth…hey!"

"Bummer about the ride, though. Ain't survivin' after that." Faith said in a grave tone, walking to the object of her sympathy. Her fellow slayer stood there, waiting. For what, she wasn't sure. "What? Let's go. You got my back, right?"

Air blew out of Buffy's pursed lips. "Yeah, yeah – I got your damn back." She went to the driver's side as Faith slickly slid across the trunk to get to the passenger side. "But, your front? No way was there ever groping."

"It's cool…they're hard to miss. Water under the bridge." Wink.

The elder slayer rolled her eyes. "Wow, could you have a bigger – "

She was right against the door when the vampire jumped up and cleared it, lunging at her. The force knocked her on her back. Overtop of her he snarled, squeezing her throat fiercely, the scythe still buried inside of his head. She lay there choking to death, knowing that she could easily gain the advantage at any point before her lungs gave out. She'd faced vampires a lot stronger than this one; he was little more than an annoyance.

Yet she stayed pinned, with real fear in her eyes. The paralyzing kind. She was afraid that this was what her life would be. Chasing after one demon or another in the dark of night, every night, in a place where Hell's offspring were never in short supply. It had worn her down once, and it would again. No matter how old or experienced she was, something could always get the better of her. Before she could blink. If she weren't killed, she'd eventually lose herself again. She had a choice here.

She didn't want to carry the weight anymore, and as long as she had a choice, she wouldn't. The new batch could. She didn't mind training them, preparing them, doing sweeps wherever she settled, be a liaison, whatever else…but she *had* to come off the line. Her decision had finally been made. Normality, a house, a life, she wanted those things. They were boring by comparison, though she greatly anticipated 'boring's' arrival.

"Son of a bitch! Couldn't've picked a worse move." Uh oh. Faith was mad.

The next thing she heard was a 'sploosh,' when the scythe got yanked from her attacker's cranium, by being drug upwards then out. Made him let go, but the other, less fun result was the gooey. Gooey which was close to spilling.

"Eeew!" The slayers commented in unison.

Buffy pushed him up higher so his head lifted, and swinging cleanly, the Bostonian proceeded with the decapitation. The scythe returned to the holster, victorious.

"Check this puppy out. For such a pain in the ass, sure rolled snake-eyes in the size department." Faith commented, resisting the urge to juggle it. "S'even smaller than – "

"Don't you dare." Buffy ordered, warningly. "You hear me? Shush."

"Clear as a bell."

The two, young women could surprisingly look up and see stars; that was a rare occurrence within the boundaries of LA. Where they had to go back to soon. Temporarily. The blonde liked being able to see the sky the way it was meant to be seen, so once they delivered the unimposing trinket and fulfilled their end…

"I wanna…" She was announcing it out loud. "Faith, I wanna move."

"Where to?"

"I don't know. Someplace demons don't flock to'd be nice. Where, if there has to be demons, they're…manageable. And where, if it has to have apocalypses, there's one like, every decade. Minimum. *Not* yearly." Buffy was adamant when it came to that. "I can't handle it anymore; besides, I don't like myself when I'm in 'slayer' mode. I…" Pause. "I'm gonna sorta walk away – is that bad?"

"Only if I get shot down, and you don't let me come loaf around your pad." Faith grinned.

"Well, that's the thing. For this to work, you're kind of vital to the plan."

"Yeah?"

The Californian nodded. "Definitely. I might need your money."

The Bostonian shouldered her in response. "Bitch."

"'Ho." Buffy shouldered back. "Seriously, I want you with me because, if you get over your issues first, I've gotta make sure nobody snatches you. Before I make my pitch."

"Well, I'm a hot item. Dunno how long I can keep the buyers at bay, so try to get your ass in gear. Not makin' promises." Faith stated her terms, all of which were bogus, because she'd be an idiot to pass up Buffy. "Except, consider me your Kato. Up here," She put a finger on her temple, "I'm already lounged out on a couch, thrashin' you in Tag Tournament." She got a smile. "But with the slaying, we don't hafta hang it up permanently. We could advise, pass on the wisdom…"

"Exactly." The blonde agreed wholeheartedly. "I was just thinking that."

All of the sudden, the past months, even ones before they left Sunnydale in the dust, caught up with Buffy in an instant. She'd had so many mixed emotions, running the gamut from 'Joy' to 'Fear,' and had never really released any of them. Faith had been her primary confidant, something she couldn't have planned yet appreciated – but as far as extremes went, she still kept herself in check. Now…now she felt free in the greatest way. It was like where she ended up last year after surviving, except less bitter and infinitely more sweet.

Putting her face in her hands, she leaned backwards against the car as her body shook.

Faith turned to look at her, and watching and listening, it became clear that the girl was laughing. Not hard, but not too shabbily either. She smiled because it was so odd. "B? Uh, you wanna fill me in on the punch line?"

"No punching, remember? Especially not the face. I promised." With that, she leaned up, stared at a dumbfounded brunette, and then fell into her, laughing some more. She was finally joined in it, though uncertainly. Slowly stopping after several moments, she wiped the tears from her eyes. "Okay…sorry. It just feels really good to make a decision. Hit me pretty fast. And all at once."

"How about you?" Buffy asked her.

"Mean the couch and loafing? I thought we…?"

The younger slayer put her feet on the road and used them again, standing, tossing the box to the elder. She faced her girl, stretching her arms over her head. "Here's the score – you nailed it. I love the rush, love the power…the job gets me juiced. But so do you. One spar and my tanks are full up; don't need a brawl to the death for that."

"*That's* your reason for retiring?" Buffy was incredulous. "Because I'm your new hormone-catalyst?"

"I'm saying you can sub for destiny…and *that's* the reaction?" Faith laid a hand to her chest, dramatically. "Don't know if I can put myself out there again – cuts deep."

"Oh. Ohhh." Hazel eyes widened, as she hadn't looked at it that way. "No, no, no. You have to put out, cause…wow, really?" She smiled, blushingly. "I get it; I'm good. I'm also appreciative, and my ego's very, very flattered. It doesn't deserve it, but it graciously accepts, anyway. So thank you." She stopped to breathe.

"Welcome. Look, now that you finally got on the train, I'm tryin' to – "

"Sorry, sorry. Go ahead."

Faith freed her cigarettes from her jacket before going to speak, and got the Eyes again. It was a bit of a contest of wills, which she soon lost. Crushing the pack in her hand, she chucked it into the car. {Whip cracks any more, m'gonna be red-assed in the morning.}

Pacing, she wanted to reach the end of this. "So, all right…yeah. You're part of the reason. The other part's, back when my watcher found me, I jumped at the gig like lightning, because I knew it was my turn."

"Your turn to what?"

"To dish it out, instead of just takin' the blows. I had to show those low-life, fucking scumbags I wasn't weak, that I was above 'em. S'why I was into it in Boston, and it was the same story in Sunnydale. Build a rep, then no one touches me unless I give the OK…and take the wheel. Wasn't about the vamps; they were a bonus. Recreation, even." Her smirk was self-deprecating. "But you know what I figured out the last couple years? I don't wanna be that girl. Don't need to. Cause for the first time, I know I'm not weak; I know I'm better than they were. Inside, yunno? Throwin' down didn't mean anything. I was just a kid scared shitless, and I'm done feelin' like that. Time I grew up."

The blonde looked at her with admiration. "I guess prison does that, huh?"

"Yup – either sink or swim." The brunette confirmed. "Helped my reason for slaying stop holdin' water. Sure, swooping in, being someone's hero, savin' the world…that's got its own rush. Wherever we go, I'll still do it too, but not here. Every damn day there's something ugly poppin' outta the shadows. There's death. Sorry, but if I have a choice to end the tour of duty? I ain't gonna say 'no.' I want a life. Off the Front."

Buffy moved to Faith, giving her a brief hug of reassurance, understanding completely. She breathed in deeply. "Whaddaya say we get one, then?"

The box in the more petite slayer's hand grew inexplicably hot then. She dropped it, and after watching the mystical smoke and light show, they were faced with an eight-foot tall Alucard, whose blood-red skin had a translucent sheen, just like the box it came from. They could clearly see veins pulsing underneath, while his black eyes seemed to go on forever. He was feral, animalistic, and he had the teeth and claws to prove it.

"Oh, this is a nightmare; like to wake up now, please." Buffy said, backing slowly away.

"If it isn't…" Faith began, backing away as well.

"We kill it?"

"Or we're fucked."

"Or we're fucked." The blonde not very happily acknowledged, as Alucard advanced. "Got a strategy? Since you *had* to make it come out?"

"Yeah…whatever makes it go back in." The brunette supplied, none-too-good with strategy.

"I believe I can attend to that." Said a voice from behind them. The girls screamed and whirled around to see a six-foot tall figure cloaked in purple velvet, peeking out at them with crystal blue eyes. His entire figure was covered except for those. "Greetings. I am Dasin. A rather known warlock in certain circles, a client of Wolfram and Hart, and this beast's rightful owner. Behave, Alucard." The demon heeled, and went to his master's side. "Seeing as how my legal representation is currently otherwise indisposed, I'll have to collect him myself – I hadn't anticipated his release. But I am grateful you went to such trouble."

"Hold on." Buffy's hand went up. "Isn't he like, a centuries old, revered leader of some demon cult thingy?"

"At one point, yes, he was. Though the Ph'rahas as a respectable clan have been quite defunct for some time. If Carpenter hadn't come along to stir the pot, this entire mess could have been avoided. That's the problem with descendants who discover their bloodline's roots – they become too proud for their own good." Darin explained. "Simply, I bested Alucard in battle, then chose to punish him for his gall. And now, Carpenter has this same trait, trying to steal and free his once, great leader." He sighed. "It's sad, actually. It would have only been a disappointment for him."

"Why? And why'd whistling let him out?"

"He's been properly domesticated, of course. And I happen to enjoy the song." He whistled a few notes of "Jailhouse Rock," and Alucard returned inside the box, which strangely disappeared off the road. "Be sure to pass along my gratitude to Angel for his efforts, won't you? I'm afraid I must be going. Good evening, Slayers." One blink, and he was gone.

Like they wanted to be.

"Wait, that thing was evil, right? Both of 'em?" The Bostonian questioned, somewhat reeling from the exchange. "And Angel was just gonna fork it over?"

Frown. "Looks that way."

Turning to the motorcycle, they looked at the road ahead for a long moment, then at each other. Saddling up next, Buffy's hands went around and underneath Faith's breasts. "Yep. They are hard to miss." She grinned.

"Thanks." Faith said with sincerity. "What d'you think about movin' coasts? It's a different world back East, B. The weather changes and everything."

"Well, our possibilities are wide open. Smart ass."

||Epilogue||

Coushoa, Maine

Late May, Nine Months Later

"It was a perfectly good analogy." Buffy muttered to herself, transfixed by the sight of her foot idly kicking at the white tile of the supermarket aisle. "Fine, so it had a lot of words. But brevity doesn't necessarily mean better all the time." She tried to convince her head and its contents of that, as her conversation with Dawn – who was going to graduate high school, despite the depression caused by her slayer, ex-girlfriend – the day before played inside her mind over and over again. It wasn't as if it hadn't occurred to her.

"Uh, I know the floor wax is wicked shiny, and that's cool, but I can be entertaining, too." Faith was attempting to direct her fellow shopper's attention elsewhere, and when she accomplished that, their eyes met, making the wax a forgotten memory. "*Me*." She was pointing at herself and enjoying the quick once-over. "Whaddaya think?" Holding up a box of cookies in front of her face, she turned it so the nutritional information was visible to Buffy, showing off how many good vitamins 'she' contained.

"I think it lies; it's a lying box. Cause if you were that good for me…" The blonde's voice was rife with amusement, though she frowned before snatching the box and dropping it into the shopping cart parked behind them – finishing that thought was dangerous.

Faith smirked. "Grabby, grabby, B."

"Want, take, have, F." Buffy replied, smiling, when she noticed the brunette's face grow more somber, and saw her shift her weight uncomfortably.

"Long time ago, yeah, but I'm a good girl now." Faith's dark orbs practically burned into hazel ones as she spoke, the intensity of the look belaying the casualness of her words, imbuing them with significantly more meaning.

"Faith," The older slayer felt guilty upon seeing the anxiety her words had caused to appear on features she'd come to know so well, "I know that." She wanted to suffuse her words with every bit of the emotion that she felt them with. "I was just – "

"Jokin'." The younger interrupted whatever was going to be said, while her face and tone brightened immediately. So much so that if Buffy couldn't still feel the lingering sensation of brown eyes staring into her, she would've wondered if she'd imagined the serious turn. "I caught that about you." Taking a peak down the aisle, her lips then experienced a downturn. "Shoulda made a list."

Buffy was silent a moment, deep in thought over the unspoken implications of Faith's reaction to her joke, completely unaware of the fact that the other slayer had continued to talk after she focused inward. "Why would you say that?"

"Uh, because there's a billion trails in this freaking maze; s'not even alphabetic, it smells like somebody popped off a few, and so far all we've got are Oreos." Faith was slightly agitated, gesturing wildly as she spoke to emphasize her points, clearly not going where Buffy had hoped. "We shoulda done some recon…cased the joint before the job or something." She finished, shaking her head, more talking to herself.

"Trails? It smells like…'cased the joint'?" Buffy repeated, and then shook her head as well, mostly to dislodge the off-topic comments. "Not what I meant – why would you think I wouldn't figure that out by now?" Her hand moved to rest on Faith's forearm, encouraging her to meet her eyes. "I have. We've basically been living together for a year, even before the house, *our* gym/barn is actually starting to fill with people who wanna learn from us, and we've…shared a bathroom. That's trust of the sacred kind." She concluded with a tiny grin. "You're a good person, I do know this. How come you don't wanna?"

Faith's shoulders slumped slightly as she sighed. "When things are good, I keep waiting for the shit to start flyin', and for 'bad' to remember to jump on 'ass.' The more things change, ya know?" Her eyes drifted around the aisle, hesitant to see Buffy's open, caring gaze.

"Faith," The native Californian's voice was firm but gentle, and yet the brunette planted her eyes firmly on the floor, "please don't make me do the chin thing." She added, not able to prevent the 'U' shape that came to her lips as she remembered Faith's reaction the one and only time she'd tried tilting her head up.

A surprised squeak and an alarmed look of suspicion had followed. Ticklish – she never would've guessed. Because of fear of public embarrassment due to her weak spot, Faith lifted her head on her own, and made eye contact.

"Nobody's gonna take this from you. Me, the house, Dawn…we're kinda family, and *nothing* will change that. I'm not planning on this being temporary, or on trading anything in – you included – when the non-existent lease is up. I'm in full control of my senses here, I promise. Us, the cart, with the shopping…it can't get any more sensible. So if the 'bad' wants your ass, it'll have a helluva time getting the job done, cause I'm watching it." Buffy concluded, matching Faith's new smile, and faltering slightly when it turned into more of a leer. "Watching your ass, you know, to protect it…from the bad. Not watching for fun, because there's no fun-having to be…had." She managed to stutter when it hit her that Faith had taken her rousing speech straight to the gutter; the Bostonian simply grinned wider. "Okay, maybe a little bit for fun." She conceded, acting awfully coy, looking through her eyelashes.

Hell, who was she trying to kid? She looked a lot for fun, though it was true that she would defend that ass and the attached body with her life.

"Buffy," Faith said, drawing Buffy out of contemplation that revolved around how very much she liked Faith's body and would try her darnedest to keep it an attractive whole, "I…"

She tapered off almost as soon as she began, her face screwing up with frustration because she didn't have any words that matched what she wanted to say. Buffy just did that to her, made her feel things that were so strong, so pure and overwhelming that she didn't think a combination of vowels and consonants existed that could describe them accurately. Her fears of the past were squashed under those feelings every day, so most of the time, she didn't worry about it, didn't dwell on it.

Also, she'd learned a long time ago that if she did that, she wouldn't move on from it. It wasn't a matter of forgetting the last twenty-odd years, but of acknowledging them for what they were in order to not repeat the mistakes ever again. But the fact remained that she was a pessimist by nature. She was aware that her severely crappy childhood – and pretty much everything that had happened from that point on – had left her with a rather bleak view of the world, however, there were times when that rationale wasn't enough to stop the pessimism from surfacing. She doubted, she feared, even though she didn't want to.

When that happened, the petite woman was there. Buffy's presence would spread over her like a salve, covering and protecting her from those life-long wounds – just like now. The words cut to the heart of her fears with a precision and a gentleness that was truly amazing; she was overcome with emotion at this, so with her lips parted as if she were going to continue speaking, and her eyebrows knitted together as if she were in deep thought, Faith stood, leaning lightly against the shopping cart, her eyes trained on Buffy's with nothing to say. All she could do was feel.

"Don't get all choked up," Buffy filled in the silence that had descended after Faith's halted speech, "the compliment was for your ass." She paused and shook her head, pseudo-dramatically. "Look at you, always taking the credit." With a wink, she sank into her thoughts, knowing what Faith was feeling.

It was one of the things that had come to amaze and captivate her, how expressive the brunette's face and eyes could be. How at times they were so readable and clear; what they were currently showing would only have been obscured by words. Occasionally she wondered if Faith had always had that innate ability and if she had just missed it in high school, despite having decided to stop worrying about before, to stop analyzing and reliving and questioning. The present was all that mattered, and she would live for it, cherishing that Faith was an open book to her now.

"You know me. I see an opportunity, I seize." Straightening her posture, Faith knew Buffy got it, could see it in her eyes and her tone. It was comforting.

"Great – then why don't you seize the cart so we can see what discount opportunities await in the 'beverage' aisle?" A pointed look at their nearly empty cart.

"Yes, ma'am." Faith saluted before dutifully taking hold of the cart, then bending over the handle bar lazily.

"It frightens me when you're obedient." Buffy admitted, casting a dubious glance over at Faith. "You're spirited, independent, and unruly – be non-conformy. Make fun of something."

"Yeah…" It was thought over briefly, as possible anti-establishment remarks raced through a gorgeous, dark-haired noggin. "No, forget it; you can't put me on the spot like that. What if it sucked? I have a rep to live up to." She announced, shaking her head. "Let's get this done – brat's shindig won't even have a chance to blow if we don't get outta here soon."

"Hey!" Faith exclaimed, whacking Buffy in the arm at the same time.

"For future reference, just go with 'loud and irritating,' or 'silent and painful.' No double-teaming."

"What's an 'onion blossom'?" The brunette cocked her head to the side curiously, speaking in a way that made Buffy want to grab and kiss her for managing to be both sexy and cute all at once.

"Why?" Buffy asked, remembering that she'd heard Spike talk about them, though for the life of her she couldn't recall exactly what they were.

"Andrew emailed, said he wants 'em at the bash, 'In remembrance of the brave warrior who fought by our side and died for the betterment of all mankind…uh, till he sorta came back again.'" Faith answered, holding her hands up at the smirked response. "I was quoting the guy." She tried to glare, but it didn't last. "Seriously, where'd you find him?"

Shrugging her shoulders helplessly, the blonde replied, "He followed me home one night, we fed him…pretty much sealed the deal." The listener looked skeptical. "Well, that's the story I'd tell if we had dinner parties." She was chucking assorted brands of ruffled chips into their cart. "You wanna learn how to make onion blossoms?"

Faith snorted at how unbelievably off the mark Buffy was, raising her brow. "Yeah." Then she chuckled lightly.

Buffy smirked at her again, seeing that she should've known better. "I guess we'll just have to tell Andrew it's B.Y.O.B, then." The index finger of her right hand came to rest on her lips as she looked down the aisle, thoughtfully. "Uh, you know, like, 'Bring Your Own Blossoms'?"

The younger slayer nodded. "Yeah, B; I got it, thanks."

'It *was* funny.' Buffy sighed at her own stupidity – she just had to go and ruin it.

"Um, little help?" She requested then, trying to reach the high shelf, curiously watching Faith, who had her hands clutched around the handle of the cart suddenly, while her eyes suspiciously canvassed the area.

Faith shushed her. "I'm guarding the cart." It was stated with the utmost seriousness, which was confusing to say the least.

She had to hear this. "Guarding?" Only a distracted 'hmm' was offered as an affirmative. "From what?"

"'Carson Daly'-looking ass-prick in the Sox cap." Faith declared, being truly disgusted. "He's been cruising people's carts, takin' their fruits, veggies and dairy after he scopes out the expirations." Her eyes were on constant alert. "He ain't getting my watermelon." Her voice was firm and determined as she focused on Buffy.

Buffy could only stare at this strange person who used to be Faith. "Of course not; you worked for that melon. Fierce competition." She nodded her head, supportively. "That lady was, what? Sixty, maybe sixty-five? You earned that baby." Her voice practically oozed with emphatic sarcasm.

"Ya snooze, ya lose." Faith shrugged and then reached into the cart, running her finger along the watermelon, which brought a pleased smile to her face.

"D'you need some alone time?" At this rate, they'd be lucky to get out of here by midnight. "Because I can wait a sec."

"Don't listen to her," Faith advised, looking down at the fruit, "she's jus' jealous." She gave it one more pat before concentrating on Buffy. "Relax, B," She started as they turned the corner and went down the next aisle, "your melons'll always be my favorite."

"You mean that?" The older slayer was oddly charmed by this news.

"From the bottom of my aorta." Faith swore, placing her right hand over her heart.

"How do you – ?"

Proudly, "GED…and reruns. I'm telling you, ER is awesome." She'd worked hard, both reading and viewing diligently.

Buffy's eyes lingered on Faith and her smile, taking them in their entirety-–the light freckles that dusted her nose, the dimples that appeared as the smile turned into a smirk, the mischievous yet affectionate glint in her eyes, and the way her hair fell in front of her face, blocking while somehow heightening, her features. Then her surveyor's eyes rolled downward a little to the lips, as her tongue licked out to wet them, causing a welcome, reddening/glistening quality thanks to the store light that bounced off of them.

"Buffy?" Faith was getting worried. Watching the blonde watch her, she saw…well, she decided not to go there, because when the moment ended and they didn't…go there, she didn't want to deal with the disappointment and the guilt that would follow.

Turning her head to look to the side momentarily, Buffy checked out their position before looking back at the befuddled female. They were tucked away in a part of the grocery store near the doors to the delivery area, that was deserted for the moment and there wasn't a single noise that indicated anyone was approaching. Dawn's words from earlier were on auto-repeat, playing in her head: 'Are you both retarded? Why aren't you going out yet?…You could be happi*er*.' "Shut up, Dawn."

"What?" Faith was really starting to get concerned about this behavior. She reached out her hand and placed it on the blonde's shoulder; squeezing lightly, the move achieved its desired effect, as hazel eyes found hers.

Buffy's earlier musings played themselves against her sister's rant: 'You said you were gonna live like normal people, didn't you? Cause guess what? When two, *normal* people like each other, and they know they like each other, and they have foreplay practice three times a day, they usually date. More than date, sometimes. You're allowed to; just let me know first. So be brave…live. For me.' Why did Dawn always have to throw some part of that speech back in her face?

After that, the teen went off on a rant about the evils of Brazil and what they do to dating couples. How lesbian superheroes shouldn't be sent there, because they quickly end up dumping you before the relationship has a chance to seriously get off the ground, to have sex with native girls. Then how, as a result, she was melodramatically swearing off both genders forever…and so on and so forth. But that was beside the point.

"She's annoying, but she's right." Came the soft concession as the brunette was still peering at her, ready to dial 911 if need be.

Without another word, without any more hesitation, debate, or doubt (and the fiasco in Italy nagging), Buffy leaned forward and tenderly brushed her lips against Faith's at first, as if testing to make sure they were really there. But they pressed together more firmly as her hand floated up and landed behind a smooth neck, drawing them closer, while the kissee's hand slid down her arm and slipped around her waist. Feeling fingers graze her scalp, Faith tangled her own fingers in Buffy's hair, trying to mold the shorter woman's body to hers as the kiss deepened. It was time, and they were making a damn big splash.

It was like the instant their mouths connected, her entire body became hyper aware – nothing had ever felt like this. She swore she could feel the vibrations of two heartbeats that were very much alive; she could *hear* the blood rushing through their veins. As her nostrils breathed in Buffy's unique, intoxicating scent, she felt like the heat radiating from each of their bodies passed into and through the other, touching all their nerve-endings with a gentle caress. Every higher-thought process inside of her brain, short-circuited.

"We should," Buffy was breathless as she pulled her lips from Faith's, and inhaling the abundant air, she tried to solve that problem, "probably get some real food." Leaning forward to rest her forehead on the brunette's shoulder, she briefly caught sight of the products on the shelves beside them: Marshmallows.

"For what?" Faith asked, barely registering the words. Her heart was still beating a mile a minute, and then there was the dizziness.

"The party." Buffy replied, lifting her head to see a flummoxed face.

Faith squinted, wishing desperately that her brain would jumpstart itself soon.

"How come? We invited?"

"Yep, considering that it's ours." A huge smile slowly spread across her face as she took in Faith's flushed skin and dilated pupils. "Our huge, cookout/graduation party for Dawn…that everyone we know and care about is coming to. We've planned for months."

"We know people?" Was the automatic response, along with a blink. "Oh, yeah – but do we hafta? Can't we just – ?" The foggy, lust-scented haze had finally dissipated.

"Uh uh. It's our destiny, and c'mon, has that *ever* been avoidable?" Buffy continued to smile, while easily grasping Faith's hand. "Let's go."

"I'm good here." Faith abruptly said, planting her feet after she'd been successfully tugged forward a few steps.

"Food; we need to get food." Though truth be told, the blonde sorely tempted to return to their nook and retire there indefinitely.

The brunette shook her head. "Wanna stay – I like it here." She was convinced that this was the best possible option.

"There's a marble cake out in that big, wide store with *your* name on it." Peering at the stubborn Bostonian guilelessly, she knew that if the possibility of baked goods couldn't get her to move, nothing would.

"Okay," Faith sighed the sigh of the conquered, "if ya feed it to me."

"Think I can arrange that." Buffy smiled up at her before tugging on her hand again, leading them out of the aisle, with the shopping cart obediently trailing. "Did you let go of that when we…?" She remembered feeling an arm around her, but she wasn't sure if both of them had been present.

"Well…had to protect my melon." Faith was satisfied to see that it was safe and sound.

A shining example of indignity if there ever was one, "You chose to protect a watermelon over feeling me up?"

"Wouldn't exactly say that…" Faith spoke gingerly, realizing that wasn't the right response. "This hand just did what it had to, and this one," She tapped the cart handle of with her other hand, "did what *it* had to."

Buffy looked away, hamming up the melodrama. "People who choose melons over me, don't get fed by me."

"Oh for Christsakes – I didn't choose the melon over you!" Faith exclaimed, using the hold Buffy had on her hand to stop them. "You surprised me; I was grippin' so hard, I was white knuckled. The whole time. 'Rocked' and 'socked,' B, I mean it. Without this here cart, I woulda fallen right over." She revealed, somewhat abashedly.

"Honest?" Buffy felt very full of herself, and also considerably moved. "Then I'll feed you cake." And with that, they moved into the main part of the store in search of 'real' food.

Faith paused as she loaded the last of the bags into the trunk, taking a deep, cleansing breath as she did. She could feel Buffy's presence behind her, standing about a foot away off to her left. Breath taken, she straightened up and reached for the lid, pleased to see that the motion had stopped the minor quivers that had been running through her hand.

They hadn't talked about the kiss at all after the quest for 'real' food began, and she found herself starting to feel anxious. Not to mention uneasy, unsettled and other, bad 'un' words. She was out of her element. When it came to the more physical aspects of seeing someone, there was no doubt she had experience, so it wasn't that she worried about. No, it was the pesky emotional stuff, which threw her for a loop.

She loved Buffy, sure; that she already knew, and it wasn't much help. It didn't tell her where Buffy was, or what Buffy was thinking and feeling. It didn't tell her if Buffy was over the whole, 'I need to find myself before I can commit to a relationship' phase, and it didn't tell her if she was, either. It could've just been a slip up…of the tongue. The blonde might not be ready to 'ship' yet. How would she feel if that was the case? How would it…?

With a frustrated grunt, she now understood why she had avoided an actual relationship for so long – it required a lot of thought on her part.

But she'd only avoided them as much as they'd avoided her. Robin was the first person who'd ever wanted something more, and that had worked out…well, not at all. Despite his assurance to the contrary, and her own desire to believe that she had worth beyond a few, extremely enjoyable hours, she couldn't accept his offer. And she was scared to death that she still couldn't, even if that offer came from Buffy. If she had doubts, then her fellow slayer had to have them, too…and it was all trippin' her out hardcore.

"Listen – " Faith spun around suddenly, needing to move as well as talk, and having just found her spine, this was as good of a time as any to do both.

"I'm your girlfriend, you're mine, and if we screw up, we can always have incredible makeup sex." Buffy was serious and calm, cutting off whatever else had been coming. 'I can't believe I said that.'

Faith's mouth closed, and whatever else had been about to be spoken, died on her lips. 'I can't believe she said that. Talk about hot.' That was going on twice now that she'd almost fallen.

Settling down, she leaned against the back of the car and considered quietly for a moment, until an ecstatic smile graced her features. All of the questions that had been floating through her head somehow vanished because of that one sentence. It subdued the beast known as 'Self-Doubt,' and was exactly what she'd wanted to hear. "I'm driving."

"Which means I get the remote tonight." Pointing at herself, Buffy went for 'serious,' but the neutral set of her lips soon dissolved into a smile, too.

"No…no friggin' way. Not Masterpiece Theatre." Faith groaned, which cued Buffy to smile wider in response. "Why do you do this to yourself? To me and the kid?" Stare. "All right, so it's mostly to me. But there's other ways to cope with the mileage. Like just…calling…Giles." BBC America and PBS could kiss her fabulously tanned ass.

"Keep talkin' and you're also gonna sit through, As Time Goes By." Was all Buffy said in response as she headed for the passenger side.

"That one's kinda chill." Faith replied as she slipped into the driver's seat. "Judi Dench layin' down the law, all, 'Do what I say!' And Lionel's like, 'Ah, okay.' She's totally holding the riding crop in that relationship."

"You think you're gonna be the Dame?" Buffy tipped her head to the side, watching as Faith started the engine. "That's funny, cause you're so *not*. But you keep on dreaming those big dreams." She ignored the glare as she turned to look out the back window. "Optimism's attractive."

The car backed out of the parking space. "Know what else is attractive?"

"Oooh, Twenty Questions; I love this game. K, lemme see, uh…" Buffy began, knowing that the last thing Faith would ever suggest – especially in an enclosed space – would be a game involving a never-ending series of questions that needed answers.

"I was thinkin' 'silence.'" Faith curtailed that immediately, taking her eyes off of the road for the briefest of seconds to glower at her girlfriend, who thought it to be more adorable than it was threatening.

"'Yes or no' answers only."

Faith rolled her eyes before sighing – she was totally Lionel, being almost completely whipped – they were going to be playing the dumb ass game the whole way back to the house, and she would enjoy it because Buffy did. Shaking her head as the game's initiator raised a thoughtful finger to her lips, she smiled, relieved that taking the plunge hadn't been as terrifying as she'd expected.

Life was good…and somewhere, a buzzer was going off. A buzzer signaling, that after several, lackluster attempts, a perfect tray of cookies was ready to come out of the oven.

The End

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