Aftermath by Kirk Baldridge

Disclaimer: I do not own any of these characters. If I did, I'd treat them better than...some people.

Spoilers: Events from the 6th season finale, THE GIFT, and the equivalent episode of Angel.

Summary: Faith hears the news about Buffy, and has to see for herself.

Faith had to admit, as the guard was leading her to the visitation room, that she was curious about who might be there to see her. Only one possibility sprang to mind.

Angel was the only one who seemed to even remember she was alive, but since it was the middle of the day she couldn't believe the vampire would have risked his skin just to see how she was doing.

When the Slayer came around a corner and looked through the glass partition and saw Wesley Wyndham Price, her former Watcher, Faith's alarm bells began ringing big time. She and Wes hadn't spoken, or seen one another, since just before she turned herself into the authorities in the first place. Not that she could blame him. She had tortured him nearly to death waiting for Angel to arrive.

Faith plopped into the hard plastic chair and just stared at Wesley, not moving and barely breathing until, finally, he reached for the phone. She did the same, and when he cleared his throat several times she took the opportunity to ask the first question. "What's wrong?"

"Come on, Wes." Faith noticed several things. His eyes were red. He'd been crying. And even without her Slayer senses she would have been able to tell his heart was pounding a mile a minute. "We both know you didn't come all this way just to say hi. Something happened. What is it?"

Wesley sighed. "I might have known I couldn't hide anything from you, young lady." He cleared his throat once again. "I'm afraid...Faith..." He looked her right in the eye.

Faith felt her own heart skip a beat. "It's Buffy." She knew. Somehow, she just felt it. "Isn't it?"

"Yes." Wesley could barely find the words, to describe to Faith what Willow had told them about Buffy's fight with Glory. How she had saved the world, yet again, but at a price that was far too horrible to mention. "By all accounts, it was a glorious battle. You would have been proud."

Faith felt as it someone had reached in and was squeezing her lungs. She could hardly breath. And the phone receiver in her hand began to crack from the force she was exerting. Yet somehow, she just couldn't find the strength to cry. She wanted to, but she couldn't. Not yet. Not here.

Wesley saw something change in the Slayer's demeanor. He just wasn't sure what. "Faith?" He leaned a little closer to the Plexiglas barrier. "Are you all right?"

In a sudden explosion of anger and speed, Faith lunged forward and punched her fist right through the half-inch of solid Plexiglas. The rest of it spider-webbed, blocking Wesley's view of her, but it held enough that she was not actually able to reach him. He was still shaking though.

Wesley lowered his head and sighed. "Well now, that went off better than I was expecting."

On the way to isolation, a place she knew all too well, Faith had time to think.

Was what Wesley had told her really true? Was Buffy really dead? She had to know for herself, but that wasn't going to happen so long as she was locked up in this dump.

She hadn't exactly been a model prisoner so far, try as she might, so they certainly weren't about to let her out on bail or a weekend pass or anything.

Of course she knew there wasn't a guard in the entire place capable of keeping her there if she chose to leave. She was a Slayer, after all. But since she was trying to redeem herself, at least in her own mind, was she willing to hurt a whole lot of people just to fulfill some morbid need to see Buffy's grave for herself? It was a difficult question, and there was no easy answer.

Faith considered sleeping on it, up until the point she saw Doug Ramsey, the beefy redheaded guard who tried to take advantage of her the first day she arrived-for which she nearly tore his arm off-waiting for her, in front of the door to isolation. At that moment, her mind was made up.

As the two guards leading her released Faith's arms, and Ramsey was reaching for her, the Slayer reacted. She broke her handcuffs without really even trying, headbutted Ramsey and then twirled around. She leg-swept both of the guards behind her, knocking them head over heels, then turned and made a beeline for the barred window at the end of the corridor. She knew she didn't have much time.

Ramsey was out of it, but one of the other men managed to reach the panic button on his belt. All at once, the alarms started blaring. The lights dimmed, and every cell door automatically locked. Around the prison, dozens of guards grabbed their weapons and began to mobilize.

Faith wrapped her hands around two of the bars on the window, and began to pull. What she was trying to do, it was almost impossible. She knew that. As strong as she was there were limits, but Faith did not like to think that way. As far as she was concerned there was nothing she couldn't do if she put her mind to it, and right now there only one thing on her mind. Escape.

Amazingly, something began to give way. Not the bars, they were far too tough, but the basing around the bars, and the window itself, were old and in need of strengthening. She pulled, harder and harder, and the bars actually began to shift. Then out of the corner of her eye, Faith could see guards at the far end of the corridor, they were having a hard time getting the door to open because of the lockdown. She smiled.

One of the other guards, the ones right behind her, came at the Slayer again. He had his nightstick in his hands and a determined look on his face. Faith ducked his rather clumsy efforts, and without even looking brought her foot up, hard, between his legs. He went down like a deflated water balloon. She pulled as hard as she could, and finally succeeded in ripping the whole section of bars out of the window. The Slayer tossed them aside, glanced over her shoulder at the guards one more time, and leaped to freedom.

That particular window, on that particular side of the prison, was two stories up. And there was nothing below her but the hard, unforgiving concrete of the prison parking lot. Faith dropped like a stone, her Slayer-enhanced legs absorbing the impact with a minimum of strain. Several guards in the parking lot tried to apprehend her, but she was too close now. She swatted them aside and headed not for the main gate, which would be far too heavily guarded, but for one of the side walls of the prison.

All around her, everyone was scrambling to find Faith before she got away. Guards were shouting, she heard a variety of guns being cocked, and there were frantic footsteps all around. But the Slayer ignored them. She took a flying leap that carried her to the top of a prison bus in one easy movement, and without slowing vaulted off it and flipped right over the south wall. She hit the ground running on the other side and never looked back. It hadn't even occurred to her yet how the hell she was going to get to Sunnydale since she had no cash. Plus, before long every cop in the city was going to be looking for her.

It only took a couple of hours to get from LA to Sunnydale, under normal circumstances, but Faith also had to be careful to avoid the police along the way as well. So public transportation, like a bus, would have been out of the question even if she did have any money.

So since she had already shattered one pretty big rule-by breaking out of prison in the first place-one or two more would not make that much of a difference. She'd planned to steal the first unattended car she came across, but when she had to duck into a bar to avoid a passing police cruiser she was approached by several drunk bikers who refused to take her no for an answer. She wiped the floor with nearly everyone in the place, and emerged in a brand new leather jacket, bearing the keys to a motorcycle.

It was pretty easy sailing from there. Faith was able to take the backroads and avoid too much contact with too many other vehicles, though she did stop once to help an elderly couple change a flat tire. That, and having them thank her, was still a strange experience for the Slayer. It felt good though, and it made her understand, at least a little bit more, how it must have felt to be Buffy.

Out there on the road, all alone, Faith knew it would have been all right to let the tears come. To cry. But still, she held back. To her it was a sign of weakness. She'd cried when her Watcher died because she genuinely liked the woman, and Kakistos nearly tore her head off. The only other times, since then, she'd really allowed herself to let go and cry came when she was with Angel, and that was only because he treated her like a person and not a monster, like Buffy and her friends. Not that she hadn't deserved it. She was a monster once, and now she had to carry around the guilt that she had not been able to make it up to Buffy, to really apologize to the only person in the entire world-except, possibly, Angel-who really understood her.

As she roared into Sunnydale early that evening, Faith tried to decide where she should go first. She needed to see Buffy's grave, for her own benefit, but unless she approached one of the Scoobies directly there was no way to know which of the many cemeteries in town she was buried in. Of course, she knew none of them were going to be particularly happy to see her-an understatement really-so she had to try and decided which one would be the least likely to hit first and ask questions later.

He was nursing a bottle of beer, now warm, which he had not touched in nearly an hour. Instead, he was sitting and staring off into space.

It had only been a few days since the fight with Glory. Since he actually fought alongside the Scoobies to save the world. Since...the vampire lowered his head and sighed. He didn't want to think about it anymore. It made his heart hurt too much. His frustrations grew and he snarled, unintentionally crushing the beer bottle in his hand. A string of curses escaped his lips as he picked glass out of his palm.

"That looks painful." Spike raised his head, to see a slinky-looking brunette in a black leather jacket standing in front of him with her hands on her hips. "It's a good thing you heal."

"I'm hurt. You don't remember me." She frowned. "No, I guess you wouldn't." She grabbed a chair and straddled it. "Since I was in Buffy's body at the time."

The vampire glared blankly at her for a moment, until he remembered something Willow had once told him. A second Slayer, who had somehow switched bodies with Buffy. Xander and Giles had also described her to a tee, he realized, as he looked the girl up and down. "Bloody hell. You're Faith?"

"That's right. I assume from that look on your face that they've mentioned me? And not in particularly glowing terms I imagine."

"You could say that. Hey, how did you find me anyway?" His eyes narrowed. "Better question. You're a Slayer, right? What is it you want anyway?"

Faith saw the way the vampire's black nails were digging into the table top, and smiled. "Relax Blondie. I'm not here to slay you." Her face fell. "I think you know why I'm here."

After a moment, Spike nodded. "Yeah." He flagged down a passing waitress. "Gimme a beer, love." He glanced at Faith. "You want anything?"

"Make it two," said the Slayer. She watched the waitress leave, and then turned back to Spike. "I still have a few connections left in this town. They say you've been hanging out with Buffy and her good guy club lately. In fact the word is, you were a big part of the reason this crummy world of ours didn't end. So, were you really there? I mean, did you see Buffy...when she..."

Spike nodded. "I was. And I did. I stood there and I watched as she threw herself into that blasted portal. Didn't even think twice about it either, even though she must've known it was a one way trip. She wasn't thinking about herself. She just wanted to protect her kid sis. The whole blasted world, in fact. And there wasn't a bloody thing

"That's B for you," said Faith. "Selfless hero to the end. Always drove me nuts too, knowing I couldn't begin to compare to her in the humanity department."

Spike shrugged his shoulders. "I know the feeling. At least you're human. That gets you a measure of respect, I wager. One I can't touch no matter how hard I try."

The Slayer started to respond, but was interrupted by the waitress returning with their beers. The moment lost, she took her beer in hand and leaned back in the seat.

"Last I heard," the vampire said after taking a swig of his beer. "You were behind bars." He smirked. "So, either the American prison system is in even worse shape than I thought, or else you've got some pretty heavy dogs on your tail. My guess is you don't really have a lot of time for idle chit-chat, so why don't we cut to the chase and you can tell me what it is you want from me?"

Faith downed her beer all at once. "Fine." She leaned forward and looked him right in the eye. "Buffy's grave. I want you to take me there."

The Slayer leaned back and shrugged her shoulders. "Because the others...Giles, Willow, they all hate me. And with good reason. Having me around would make them more uncomfortable and upset than they already are, and believe it or not I'd rather avoid doing that if I can."

"I'll take you," Spike said, finally. "I need to pay my respects anyway." He didn't feel the need to reveal to Faith how he gone to visit Buffy's grave every night since the funeral. Most of the time he spent hours there, down on his knees, staring at her tombstone-often, until the sun started to come up. Once he'd miscalculated, and ended up nearly in flames before he got back to his crypt.

Faith followed Spike through the cemetery; glancing at each of the tombstones, and wondering which of them might contain vampires who just hadn't woken up yet.

But since Buffy and the others obviously trusted Spike, at least a little, that was good enough for her. Besides, as long as he had that chip in his head he wasn't a threat to her, or anyone else. Except other demons, of course, but she didn't care if he wanted to knock them around.

One tombstone apart from all the others. The grass was new, and the flowers, but Faith's gaze was drawn to the name. BUFFY ANNE SUMMERS. It was true. It was really true. She stood there with a dazed expression on her face, while Spike got down on one knee and reached into his duster.

Spike and Faith were both startled by a tall figure in a long black coat stepping out from behind a tree near the tombstone. They were both surprised, and yet not, to see him.

"Angel," Spike hissed. "Bloody perfect." He wasn't in the mood for a fight. Not here anyway.

"I expected you this afternoon," said Angel. "After all, you left prison nearly a day ago."

Angel nodded. "They called, just before I left. Wanting to warn me, and to ask if I'd seen you. Since I came to see you, I was the only name they had on record."

Spike frowned. "Are you daft? You can't send her back to prison. She's a Slayer. We need one of those around here, in case you hadn't noticed."

"Don't push me, Spike. The only reason I'm letting you stand here, and not taking you down, is because Willow and the others have been telling me how much you've been doing lately. How much you helped Buffy. You were there for her when she needed you..." Angel looked right at Spike. "...and I appreciate it. I don't understand it, but

"Whether you want to believe it or not, I cared about Buffy. Unlike some people, she didn't always see me as a monster." Spike shrugged his shoulders. "Even if I was just a pale, pulseless alternative to you. It felt good to be needed by someone, even if it's an enemy." He reached into his pocket and took out a cigarette, snarling when he realized he had misplaced his lighter. "Bugger."

Another lighter was held up to him, and after a moment Spike accepted. He nodded to Angel as his grand-sire was pulling his arm back. "Thanks."

"Not good," said Angel. "Especially Dawn. Giles said she hasn't eaten and has hardly slept in two days. She just sits and stares at this picture of Buffy. I tried to talk to her, but..."

Spike took the cigarette out of his mouth. "You'd better make sure the wonder-Wiccans keep their magic stuff away from her. The last time..."

"I know. They told me about Joyce. I don't think we have to worry, but Willow is keeping an eye on her just in case." Angel glanced at his watch. "It's going to be dawn soon."

Faith looked from one vampire to the other. Their expressions told her she was missing something. "Why do I feel like I'm out of the loop? What happened to B's mother?"

"The way to where?" Faith asked. She blinked. "Look, I don't want to go back already Angel..."

In the back seat of Angel's convertible, Faith stared up at the sky; feeling even more depressed than before, if it was possible. Though it had been a while since she had last seen the woman, in truth since she had broken into the house and held her hostage, the Slayer fondly remembered Joyce Summers.

When she first came to Sunnydale, Faith had been introduced to Buffy's mom by the other Slayer. Joyce was a witty and intelligent woman, and she always treated Faith like a mother would her child. Or, at least, what Faith's imagination tried to tell her a mother was like, since she couldn't remember her own. Before Joyce came along the closest thing she'd had to a parental figure was her first Watcher.

Faith, of course, had screwed it all up. Just like she screwed up every good thing in her life. Buffy, Angel, and the whole blasted Scooby Gang, had tried to help her. Time and again. But she eventually gave into her dark side and joined forces with Mayor Wilkins. That was a mistake she would like to forget. He, too, treated her like she was his child, but in a much more perverse way. He wanted a child who would kill and crush and destroy on cue,

Now she was on the run. The cops were probably looking for her even now, and instead of finding a deep, dark hole to crawl into she was riding across Sunnydale in a convertible, with two vampires. Her life was so screwed up it wasn't even funny, and she had no idea what to make of any of it. She had no direction, no goals, no one but Angel-including herself-who actually seemed to think she was worth a damn.

Faith was roused from her introspection by the car jolting to a stop. She lowered her head and opened her eyes, and immediately wondered if she should close them again.

Faith grabbed the headrest of the seat in front of her, and flung herself out of the car all at once. She landed in front of Angel, shaking her head. "This is crazy. I can't go in there."

Angel shook his head. "I think you might be surprised. If you give them half a chance, you might actually learn they are not quite as unforgiving as you like to think."

"If you say so." Faith's knowing eyes followed Spike, who knocked on the door of the Summer's residence and was admitted by Rupert Giles, who nodded. The Watcher saw Angel first, then Faith and, to his credit, he reacted with his usual British accord. He gestured for them to come inside.

Angel nodded. "Trust me." He nodded to Giles as he stepped into the house having-like Spike-been invited in on a previous occasion.

Faith, meanwhile, walked up to Giles and shoved her hands in her pockets. "Hey."

The Slayer nodded. "I know this might sound kind of hollow, coming from me, but I am sorry."

Faith was uncomfortable the moment she entered the Summers' home, for various reasons. The place was so much smaller than she remembered. And it felt so empty, as if she was missing someone. Two someones, as a matter of fact. Buffy and Joyce. She closed her eyes for a moment.

Everyone was in the living room, where Giles had apparently been directing her all along.

Willow and Tara, back from LA obviously, sat on one end of the couch. They had their arms around each other and were sitting as close as possible.

Xander was on the other end of the couch, a blank expression on his face. His ex-demon fiancée, Anya, had her still-bandaged head resting in his lap.

Even Wesley and Cordelia had come from LA. He had his glasses off and was rubbing his brow, while she was apparently shooting daggers at Anya as she stared at Xander.

Angel and Spike, more out of necessity than anything else, stood near each other at the back of the room, in order to avoid the sunlight peeking through the half-open curtains.

And then there was Dawn. Faith didn't know her too well, she and the youngest Summers had never really hung out during her Sunnydale days, and she imagined the others had told the girl all sorts of horror stories-many of them true, but still-about her. Dawn was curled up in a big, plush chair, scrunched up apparently so as to appear smaller. There was less a chance of her being noticed that way.

Faith knew the feeling. She was even more uncomfortable than the others, even though they were all there for the same reason. To mourn the loss of someone important to them all. The Scoobies, at least, had each other to lean on. They were friends. Some even more than that. She was the outsider, pure and simple, and in her heart of hearts she envied them. They had everything her life lacked.

He was the first, but not the last, to say how much Buffy meant to him. Willow, Xander, every one of the core Scooby members had their turn. Then Anya and Tara, followed by Wesley and Cordelia. Finally came Spike, and Dawn, both of whom were clearly fighting back tears. Last up was Angel. He started, by describing the very first time he ever saw Buffy, long before any of them knew about her, when the demon Whistler introduced him-at a distance-to a fifteen year-old, soon to be Slayer.

Through it all, Faith had remained stolid. Never wavering, never flinching, while all of the other women in the room, as well as Xander and Giles, began to cry. Yet Angel's words touched something within the Slayer. A part of herself, her heart, which she had thought long dead. It was that same deep, relentless pain and misery, she had not experienced since her Watcher was killed. Now as the tears erupted, the face she saw in her mind's eye was not that of a tall, dark-haired older woman, but rather the slim, blonde Buffy.

Faith cupped her hands over her face and began to cry, her body wracked with sobs. She couldn't control it, as if all of the emotions she had been bottling up for years on end had finally found an outlet. The floodgates had opened, and everything was escaping whether she wanted it to or not.

For that one moment, at least, Faith had found common ground with people she once considered enemies. All of them knew, finally, that she was just as human as most of them. She had feelings, too, and Buffy's death made just as big of an impact on her.

Even Willow, who had more of an ire for the other Slayer than Buffy herself, felt a kinship with Faith. She had started to cry too, and buried her face in Tara's shoulder.

Willow and Tara took that as their cue to go home, as did Xander and Anya, while Giles, Wesley and Cordelia headed into the kitchen to get something to eat.

The Slayer, finally, broke the silence by clearing her throat. "So, when are you heading back?"

"To LA?" Angel asked. He shrugged his shoulders. "A couple of days, probably. Gunn is minding the store. He should be fine on his own, and he can always call us if..." He leaped to his feet at the sound of a woman's scream coming from the kitchen. "Uh oh."

Angel approached Cordelia, who was moaning. "She's having a vision. It's a little something she inherited from a friend of ours."

Cordelia groaned. "No, it's a pain in the ass. I swear, if I ever see Doyle again..."

Cordelia's eyes widened as she raised her head and looked right at Angel. "It's Gunn. He's in trouble. A demon, a big one. It's after him, coming up behind him...but he doesn't see it."

"Another friend of ours," said Angel. He looked to his associates. "We have to get back to LA."

"And I'll find you a blanket," said Cordelia. Giles directed her to the linen closet.

"I know what you're going to say," the Slayer replied. "You want me to come with you so you can take me back to jail, right? I'm ready."

"I don't have time to get you to the jail, and explain everything to the warden. I have to help Gunn. What I need to hear, is your word that you'll stay here. I don't mean this house, necessarily. Just Sunnydale. Can I trust you to hang around until I have a chance to come back and get you?"

Faith was taken aback. That he was even asking the question meant he suspected he could. But no one had had even that much trust in her, in a very long time. "I..." She nodded. "Yes. I will."

"Good." Angel turned. "Cordy!" A big wool blanket hit him in the face, and he sighed. "Thanks."

Faith watched, in silence, Spike beside her, as Angel and Cordelia rushed out the door. The vampire shook his head. "Bloody amateurs. Buffy made the lot of them look like paintywaists."

"What is it with you and Angel?" Faith asked. "Wasn't he your sire or something? I thought you vamps were all one big, happy family."

"Hardly. Drusilla's the one who made me, not Angelus." Spike put out his cigarette. "And just between you and me, he was such a bloody mental case back then he didn't even like himself. Once he got his soul back he turned into such a poof. Waste of good fangs if you ask me."

Faith shook her head, and watched as Giles came back in and closed the door behind him. "I'm guessing you're going to want me to take off, right? I can't imagine I'm welcome."

"Actually," said Giles. "Angel asked if I wouldn't mind keeping an eye on you." He saw her eyes narrow, and it dawned on him how what he had just said might have sounded to the Slayer. "In a strictly non-official capacity, I assure you. You are, of course, free to leave at any time."

Giles ignored the vampire. "Faith, I know we've had our differences. But Angel has kept us abreast of your time in prison. He says you seem to be genuinely trying to redeem yourself. To become a better person. And I would like, if you will allow me, to give you the benefit of the doubt."

"I will admit..." Giles took off his glasses and began absently cleaning them. "The idea of harboring an escaped felon does carry with it no small degree of discomfort. And I can only imagine Willow and Xander won't be too pleased with the idea." He put his glasses back on and looked her in the eye. "But as a Slayer, there's a great deal of good you would be able to do for this city, Faith. And for yourself. The decision, of course, is up to you. But bear in mind, you are safer here than back in LA, or on the run."

Faith nodded. If the Scoobies could bring themselves to accept her, even a little, she knew they would do their best to protect, and hide her, from the law. And besides, thanks to Mayor Wilkins the police force of Sunnydale was less than observant, where the supernatural were concerned. As long as no one from LA came searching for her, she could probably hide out indefinitely there.

Giles nodded. "Of course." He cleared his throat. "If you're tired, I think there's a cot in the basement. I'd offer you one of the beds upstairs, but Dawn..."

"Yeah, I get it," said Faith. "You don't want the kid waking up and seeing me in her mom's bed. Or Buffy's." She shrugged her shoulders. "Hey, anything's gotta be better than a cell."

It was more spacious and comfortable than her prison cell, but not by much. The windows were other blocked by boxes or too dusty to let any light through, and there was a draft. Not that she was complaining. At least she'd have free run of the place, she didn't have to share the space with another woman who tried, albeit only once, to take advantage of her, and there was no curfew.

Faith pulled off her jacket and sat down on the edge of the cot. She wasn't actually tired, not really, but she did need a little time to herself. That was one of the things she'd really missed, being in jail-privacy. It hadn't taken long for her fellow inmates to understand how dangerous she was, so most of them left her alone, but of course there were always guards and cameras everywhere she went. That meant she always had to hold back in the gym, never lifting nearly as much weight as she could have or working out as hard as her Slayer-strength would allow, lest she get some unwanted attention and have to explain herself.

Faith felt antsy. Full of energy. She needed something to do. But it was the middle of the day, so there weren't likely to be any vampires out. Slaying was pretty much out. Her next choice for burning off some of that excess energy was even less likely here, since she probably would not be able to find even half as many 'dance' partners as she had in prison. She was stuck.

In frustration, the Slayer started to shadow-box. It was mostly just a pointless exercise to get her mind off the fact she was going out of her mind with boredom. At least in prison there was almost always something to do, if one tried hard enough. Of course there were also rules, lots of them. She did her best to acknowledge and obey, but her fellow inmates had other ideas and she often got caught in the middle. Once, she had been at the heart of a near riot, which she herself managed to stop at her own expense. The guards ended up tossing her into solitary confinement for several days because of it, which she secretly relished because it gave her time to herself. That was one of the better days of her prison experience, sadly.

At length, events of the last few days finally caught up to the Slayer. Her energy expended she lay down on the cot and did not move from that very spot until the evening, when she was awakened by Giles standing at the head of the stairs, asking if she wanted anything to eat. She joined the Watcher and Dawn at the kitchen table, soon to be joined by Spike. The vampire had some disturbing news.

"Word's getting around that Glory's gone. It seems all manner of beasties skittered out of town when the great one showed up, and they're only now starting to realize she's out of the picture. I'd wager it won't be long before it's business as usual in Sunnydale."

Giles nodded. "Indeed." It had been awfully quiet as of late, but he'd known it wouldn't last. "We must return to patrolling, at once. I'll call the others, so we can arrange a battle plan."

As the vampire stood up, Faith cleared her throat. They both turned to look at her.

The others were going to meet them there, where they were storing the weapons, while Giles would remain at the Summers' home with Dawn.

When Xander arrived a short time later, alone-Anya, still injured, electing to remain at home-he entered the shop to find Spike sitting on a ladder, smoking a cigarette. He nodded to the vampire, and started looking over a collection of weapons on the table. Out of the corner of his eye he thought he saw movement and turned to find Faith standing in a corner, half-hidden in shadows. His eyes narrowed.

All eyes turned as the door chimed again, and this time Willow and Tara strode in. Despite having been zapped by Glory just days before the blonde was in remarkably good spirits. She and Willow hadn't left each other's side since Willow brought her back out of herself.

"I guess it's back to business as..." the redhead was saying. Her face fell, when she saw Xander and Faith facing off. "...usual. Oh great, not another fight."

Faith took a step back and shook her head. "Relax. I'm not here to hurt anybody with a pulse."

"And I've got all the team I need right here," said Willow, who slid her arm through Tara's. The witches glanced at one another and smiled.

Spike slid off the ladder and stood up. "Bloody hell. I'll go with you, lamebrain." He tossed a sword to Xander, and grabbed an axe for himself. "Slayer doesn't need a partner anyway, am I right?"

Faith had been half-expecting outright hostility from the Scoobies, so all things considered she thought it was all going remarkably well. They didn't want to be anywhere near her and, quite frankly, she liked it that way. This was her element, the darkness-this was what she was born to do.

Before long the Slayer's patrol brought her into the general vicinity of the Bronze, which was when she finally became aware of just how much she was changing, both inside and out. Once, not so long ago, the pounding beat of the music and the general hard-partying atmosphere would have been an irrestible urge to her. Now, the mere thought of pushing her way through the throng of sweaty bodies was almost disturbing. Plus, a part of her feared that if she got into a confrontation she might lose control, again. That had happened within her first week in jail, and the sight of the other woman's bloody face still haunted her dreams. It brought back the face of the innocent man, the Mayor's assistant, she had killed while on patrol with Buffy, and those two images alone caused her far more pain than the resulting time she spent in solitary confinement.

Faith was so distracted by her own thoughts that she almost didn't hear the scream. Almost. It was stifled soon after it began, but she had already pinpointed the source as stemming from a nearby alley. A faint smile crossed her face as she drew a stake from her sleeve and rushed in that direction.

A blonde-haired young woman of twenty or so lay crumpled on the ground in a corner of the alley, sobbing, her hands clutched over her head as if to try and protect herself.

Over her stood a creature easily half again Faith's size. It had a big, diamond-shaped head, green scaly skin and decidedly reptilian features. It hunched its powerful shoulders and growled.

"Hey, big ugly!" Faith twirled the stake in her hand as the demon turned to face her. "Why don't you try picking on someone who can actually defend themselves?"

The demon smiled, baring a mouth full of dagger-like teeth and a forked tongue. "You? Don't make me laugh. I doubt you're more than a light snack."

"So what's the problem? Come get me." Faith slid the stake back into her sleeve; it wouldn't do her much good here anyway, and smiled. "If you think you're demon enough."

Cracking its knuckles, the demon growled and charged Faith, probably expecting her to turn and run. Or, at the very least, to stand there quaking in her boots.

Faith waited until the very last moment, then dropped into a splits and drove her fist up into the demon's groin region as hard as she could. There was a satisfyingly sickening squishing sound and the demon halted, suddenly, its crimson eyes growing as round as saucers. It mewled and fell to its knees, spittle rolling down its chin as the Slayer stood up and swept the hair out of her face.

"Now, we can finish this one of two ways; easy or hard." She leaned casually on its head, and began to examine the nails on her right hand. "Your choice."

The demon struggled to catch its breath, or even to speak. It finally eeked out a few syllables.

"...do I want to know?" Faith asked. It nodded, and she shrugged her shoulders. "Nothing. I just like hearing you guys beg." She wrapped her arms around its throat and twisted, snapping its neck like a twig. It gurgled once, and then slumped forward, falling lifeless at her feet.

The trembling, pale-skinned young woman came crawling toward her. "Y-You saved me."

"Just part of the job," said Faith. She usually got uncomfortable with this sort of praise and turned to leave, but the other young woman stopped her by grabbing her ankle. "Hey."

"Real strong. Maybe the rumors are true after all." The young woman lowered her head, and when she raised it again a moment later a pretty human face had become the twisted and distorted visage of a vampire. She smiled, her fangs bared. "One dies, and another is called."

Faith shook her head. "You know, this is getting ridiculous. Now you guys are starting to turn on each other? I always thought you monster types had some club rules thing going. You know-never attack a fellow member of the fang gang?" She glanced down at the demon. "Or, let me guess...was mister tall, dark and gruesome too dumb to tell the difference?"

"He was an idiot. Most Garokk's are. I tried fighting him, but..." She shook her head and smiled. "Luckily, I had a Slayer to protect little ol' me. Thanks ever so much for being there, miss..."

"Faith," said the Slayer. "Just Faith." While the vampire was talking it had been child's play for her to reach into her sleeve, and now thrust the stake deeply into the wide-eyed vampire's chest, piercing her heart. "Sorry I didn't catch your name."

Willow and Tara walked hand in hand through one of the many, many cemeteries in Sunnydale. So far, they had not come across a single vampire, but then again the night was still young. They were checking the area with the most recent burials, where the newest vamps were likely to emerge.

"It's starting to get kind of chilly out here," said Tara. "Maybe we should go get our jackets..."

"Mmm..." Tara smiled, as the redhead leaned in to kiss her. She wrapped her arms around her lover.

Someone nearby chuckled. "Well, well..." said a man's voice. "Isn't this sweet?"

Willow and Tara turned to find a vampire leaning against a tombstone, leering at them. Two others came up on either side of him, all of them in full vamp-face.

"You girls appear to be lost," said the apparent leader of the group. "If you'd like, we can help you..." He licked his lips as he looked them both up and down. "...for a price."

Willow glanced at Tara. "Oh, please." Three against two might have seem unfair odds, but they had always been able to make it through before. Of course they usually had Buffy backing them up.

The vampire shook his head. "Fine. We'll do this the hard way." He gestured, and the others attacked.

Without saying a word both witches reached into their belts, and pulled out stakes. With their other hands still clasped they exerted their powers slightly, and sent the stakes rocketing toward the approaching vampires. They looked stunned and confused as their hearts were pierced.

The other vampire's face contorted further as his two comrades were dusted. "Well now, this is an unexpected development. Magic, eh?" He sneered. "I've never eaten witches before."

Willow and Tara's confidence began to erode somewhat. They had been face to face with vampires before, too many to count in fact, but this was different. Their manuever was flashy, and intended to be intimidating, but the remaining vampire didn't seem to be impressed. And now, they were unarmed.

Snarling, he suddenly charged. The first time, the first several times in fact, Willow and Tara managed to push him back. Each of them had a great deal of magick at their disposal; moreso when they were together. But every effort was a strain, especially since the vampire seemed to be testing them, punching and kicking at each barrier as he rammed against it.

"You're getting weaker, ladies! My guess is, you can't keep this up much longer!" After getting knocked on his ass, again, the vampire abruptly stopped. With a smile on his face he turned, and grabbed the nearest tombstone; ripping it out of the ground with a minimum of effort. They realized what he was going to do, but they weren't in any position to do anything about it at the moment. "Catch this!"

As they expected, the vampire flung a huge chunk of solid stone right at them. By the slimmest of margins the two witches were able to reach out and do just as he taunted, but just barely. Their skulls exploded with pain and they fell to their knees, clutching one another.

Someone leaped over Willow and Tara, and landed in a crouch in front of the two witches. It was Faith. With a smirk on her face she kicked the vampire square in the face with enough force to shatter his nose. He staggered back, howling in pain as blood gushed between his fingers.

The Slayer whipped a stake out of her sleeve with one hand, and grabbed the vampire's hair with the other. She yanked his head back and put the stake to his heart.

"Shut up," Faith hissed. "And listen, 'cause I'm only going to say this one time." She leaned in, and lowered her voice. "What do you know about the Slayer?"

"You heard me! There's a big-time Slayer in these parts, name of Buffy. All you freaks know her." She jerked his hair, making him wince. "Tell me. Where is she?"

"I don't know. I swear it." The vampire shook his head. "We heard rumors she may've bought it, taking down the hell-bitch, Glorificus. But it's just rumors. Nobody knows for sure."

Faith frowned. "Damn it. I was afraid of that." She staked the vampire and was turning to face the witches as he was crumbling into dust. "You'd better send up the bat-signal."

Giles couldn't attend because it was the middle of the night and Dawn was in bed, but Xander promised to stop by and fill him in on the way home.

Faith told them what she had learned from the vampires, and Spike expressed similar concerns.

"I've been hearing it too. Nobody's sure yet, but it's getting around that Buffy may be gone. Some of the bigger vampires in town are starting to rest the waters. If they figure out we don't have a Slayer..."

Tara spoke up. "But, we do." Her cheeks reddened somewhat as all eyes turned to her. She was still not used to being the center of attention. "I-I mean, Faith..."

"Don't look at me." Faith grabbed a chair and straddled it. "I might be a Slayer, but I'm no Buffy. They know her face, and she's the one with the rep."

Spike nodded. "She's right. Sunnydale is Buffy's town. Even if wonder-girl here tags on, by the time she makes a name for herself it could be too late."

"The vamps around here never got united, because of Buffy," said Faith. "And the demons...forget it. No matter how you look at it, we need Buffy."

Xander pointed at Faith. "Can't we disguise her somehow? Maybe dye her hair blonde or something? I mean it's not like most of the vamps are brain surgeons."

"Won't work anyway," said Faith. "Some of Mayor Wilkins' people are still in town, and they're still associated with the demon community. I think they know my face even better than Buffy's. I'd never be able to fool them..." Her gaze fell on Willow and Tara. "...unless we use magic."

Tara was a little taken aback. "That sort of specific glamour spell is complicated. I'm not certain we could cast it safely." She paused. "And even if we could, it's hard to say how long it would last. You might lose your face in the middle of a fight." She turned. "What do you think, honey?"

The redhead blinked, and the others could practically see the wheels turning in her head.

Willow led the others down into the basement of the Magic Box, and straight toward a sheet-covered shape at the rear wall. Xander, Tara, and Spike realized what she was up to. "If it's Buffy's face we need..." She yanked the sheet off. "...then it's Buffy's face we'll have."

Buffy Summers, or a remarkable facsimile thereof, sat before them. Only the blonde-tressed head of the other Slayer was sitting in her own lap, her lifeless eyes directed forward.

Xander shook his head. "Will, it's a great idea. But are you sure you can fix her?"

"Compared to the first time," said Willow. "This should be a piece of cake. I had to completely reprogram her, to erase some of the less desirable psychological protocols..." She glared at Spike, who shrugged his shoulders, and then continued. "...and then I had to alter her programming again to help us fight Glory. This time, hopefully all I'll have to do is reattach her head."

"Well..." The redhead chewed on her lip for a moment. "...assuming all of her neural pathways are intact, which

I think they are, I should be able to have her ready for patrol before sundown." She covered her mouth to stifle a yawn. "After I get some sleep. I'm out on my feet."

One by one the others turned and shuffled on up the stairs, leaving Faith alone in the basement. She glanced at the robot for a few moments, and then followed them.

A note from Giles informed her he had dropped Dawn off at school and was on his way to the Magic Box. She was invited to join him there if she wanted.

The Slayer, however, had other plans. Giles and Spike were being civil enough, and Tara didn't really know her well enough to like or dislike her, but it was clear that Xander and Willow still weren't particularly comfortable having her around. And, quite frankly, there was only so much tension she could take. So she decided to give the lot of them some space and find something else to do.

Upstairs, Faith wandered into Buffy's room. There was a picture of her and Willow and Xander, one of her and Giles, and another of her with her mom and her sister. A half-open drawer in the desk revealed a photo of Buffy with her ex, Riley, and one of her first boyfriend Angel, all by himself. She picked up the picture of the vampire and looked at it. That was the main problem with being an immortal-he would outlive not only all the people he loved, but all the people he ever had loved or ever would love.

Faith put him away and picked up one of Buffy, Dawn and Joyce. She felt a tightness in her chest, and her eyes began to tear up. One thing she'd always envied about the other Slayer was the fact she had a family, people who would love her unconditionally, no matter what happened. Her own mother never really there for her even when she was home, and she had no idea who her father was. Her Watcher had tried to act like a mother for her, but it was far too late by then, she no longer wanted that sort of relationship.

"Buffy." The Slayer put the picture down, turned, and punched the nearest wall. Her fist went right through, and she felt a tingling in her knuckles as she pulled her arm back. "Oh hell." She had torn off some of the skin of her hand, but it didn't really hurt. She rarely felt pain. Instead, she was more worried about how she was going to tell Dawn and Giles about what she'd done to the wall. "Damn it." She clenched her fist and headed for the bathroom to find a towel or something to bandage her hand. It would heal before long but she did not want to get blood all over the house in the meantime.

In the bathroom, Faith found a healthy supply of band-aids, bandages, ointments and aspirin. It made sense, for although Buffy did not get hurt very often there often were times when she was bruised or banged up. So she, or possibly Joyce, would have kept a lot of supplies around. With her hand sufficiently taken care of, she grabbed a soda from the refrigerator on her way out.

With no particular destination in mind, Faith just wandered the streets and back alleys of the city. She was not exactly hiding from the police there, but she wasn't about to take any chances either, and the tension in her body language kept other people away.

Later in the afternoon the Slayer's parched throat finally roused her from her melancholy. She raised her head and glared around, her eyes widening slightly as she realized where she was. She hadn't planned it, but things had worked out pretty well. She slipped through a half-open door.

"Hey, 'tender..." Faith slid on to a stool, mindful of the numerous eyes upon her-not all of them human. "Can I get something to drink? Or do I have to get it myself?"

The wiry little man behind the bar turned, saw her, and smiled. "I do not believe it." He reached down and drew

a beer from under the bar, then popped the top. "The prodigal daughter returns." He shook his head as he slid the bottle to her. "What in the world brings you to my little hole in the wall, Faith?"

The Slayer shrugged her shoulders. "Just bad luck, Willy." He was human, but associated with the supernatural elements of Sunnydale on a regular basis. Vampires and demons were all welcome in his bar. In fact, there were several there now, watching her. She ignored them. "I needed a drink, and as it happened yours was the closest. I figured I could bum a free drink off you."

Willy frowned. "Free? Hey..." He started to reach for the bottle, nodding when she grabbed his wrist. "I guess I can give you one, on the house. For old times sake."

"Don't mention it. Please." Willy glanced around the bar, and saw that the vampires who had been watching the Slayer, had returned to their conversation. If they recognized Faith they weren't acting too upset about it-which suited him just fine. When a Slayer came in he usually ended up bleeding, or else his bar was in shambles. For a change, he hoped this time would be different.

Faith shook her head. "You're a spineless little jellyfish, Willy." She finished the bottle. "But I'll say one thing, you've got great taste in beer." She arched an eyebrow and gave him a half-smile. "I don't suppose there's anyway

Willy sighed. "Look, kid, if I can get through just one of your visits without having to call my insurance agent, I'll let you have all the free beer you can drink." He leaned in close and lowered his voice. "It's too bad about the other one. I liked her. She was a good kid."

Willy chuckled as he began to absently clean a glass. "I've got connections. One of the guys who used to work for Glory came in here...oh about three days ago. He said something about her magnificent luminescence being doused by...I lost interest about halfway through. Then he brought up Blondie. Said she stopped the merging, but it cost her big-time. I put two and two together and came up with three."

Faith clenched the bar so tightly the wood began to crack. "Have you told anyone else?"

"You kidding?" Willy frowned. "Besides, no one would believe me if I did." He shook his head. "Doesn't really matter. A couple of local big-wigs figured it out on their own. Word is, one of the vamp groups here in Sunny D is planning a major offensive, to see if the rumors are true."

"Memorial hospital. I hear they're going to start on the blood bank and, if everything goes all right, work their way to the ICU. Should be quite a show." He was wiping the bar as he talked. "Would be a shame if someone got in the..." He glanced around, and saw Faith was gone. "...way."

Faith made it to the Magic Box in record time, and practically knocked the front door off its hinges as she hit running at full speed. Even so, she was not breathing hard at all.

"We've got a problem," the Slayer said as she came inside. "I just heard..." Faith was stopped in her tracks, by a familiar face smiling back at her. "Buffy?"

The other Slayer was standing in the middle of the shop, hands on her hips. Behind her stood Willow and Tara, and Giles, who was at the cash register. Xander and Anya were not there, because they had decided to undertake Dawn-watching duty so Giles could help the others. Spike was seated up on the upper level of the shop, with his legs dangling as he smoked a cigarette.

Faith blinked. Buffy was not moving, she wasn't breathing or blinking. It still took her a few moments more to figure out what was going on. "Is it working?"

"Five by five," said Tara. She and Faith both started to smile, but Willow cleared her throat and the blonde witch lowered her head and nodded. "Sorry. I couldn't resist."

Willow sighed. "Speak to her directly. I want to make sure she recognizes your voice."

"Okay." Faith had a hard time looking at the robot. It was Buffy, physically at least. "Hey, Buffy?"

Within the robot, a facial recognition program was activated. It took a profile image of Faith, which rotated as it scanned its files for a match. It found one in the New Files section.

"You are emotionally unstable," the robot added. "But, you are an ally. Sort of."

The Slayer glared at Willow, whose cheeks reddened as she shrugged her shoulders. "Well..."

"All I want to know is, can she fight?" Faith asked, deciding to ignore it for the time being. "Because after what I just heard, we'll need all the help we can get."

Faith quickly told the others what about what Willy had told her. When she also added that he was aware Buffy had died, it seemed to give validity to his warning.

"Bloody hell." Spike leaped down to join them. "It's only a couple of hours 'til sundown."

"Indeed," said Giles. "We'd best prepare." He and the vampire headed for the back room, where they stored the weapons. Willow and Tara remained behind, with Faith and the robot.

The Slayer nodded. "I've got to admit Red, you did one hell of a job." She crossed her arms. "She moves a little stiff, but she's got B's voice down pat."

"Unfortunately, that wasn't me," said Willow. "Spike had the robot programmed to be Buffy. Or, at least, a sex-starved version of Buffy who was utterly devoted to him." She shuddered. "I just altered her command protocols so she would act more like the real, slaying is my life Buffy. But there are files in there for all of us, and for all the bad guys I could think of she might run across. Like Harmony. Okay, so Harmony's really not that much of a bad guy, but she is a vampire, and..."

Faith shook her head and turned away as they started to kiss. In spite of herself, she couldn't help thinking how sweet Willow and Tara were. It made her teeth hurt.

The robot looked on with a passive interest. She was taking stock of everything going on around her and filing the information away for further study. She stared at Willow and Tara too.

By the time the sun went down they had come up with what they hoped was a halfway decent plan.

Spike would enter from the back and try to blend in with the other vampires as best he could if he happened to get caught. Faith and the Buffy-bot, meanwhile, would waltz in the front door and try to draw as much heat down on themselves as they could, so everyone would see 'Buffy'.

Giles, Willow, and Tara agreed to hold down the fort outside. They had weapons and magick ready, in case any of the vampires managed to escape.

"You ready for this?" Faith asked, as she and the robot approached the front door of the hospital.

Faith cracked her knuckles. "Just remember one thing. There might be humans in there who have nothing to do with this. Can you tell the difference? Between humans and vamps?"

"I'll take you word on that." Faith did a quick check of her weapons. She had stakes on her belt, a knife down in her boot, and a short sword from Giles' collection strapped on her back underneath her jacket. "Just remember... follow my lead. I'm in charge, got it?"

The robot cocked her head. "I am Buffy Summers. This is my town. I should be in charge."

"No!" Faith's temper flared. "You're a..." She lowered her voice, in case anyone was listening. "Trust me on this one, bolts for brains, you're not in Buffy's league. You're just a bunch of wires and circuits and..." She shook her head. "You know what? We don't have time for this right now. You wanna go around thinking you're Buffy? Fine. Just don't get in my way. We've got work to do in there."

Faith strode into the lobby of the hospital with an air of total confidence. She rested her hands on her hips and scanned the wide-eyed faces of the patients, and the nurses behind the counter. They were openly staring at her, men and women alike, but she was used to it. One way or another she always seemed to get this kind of reaction when she came into a room.

The Slayer glanced over her shoulder as the Buffy-bot stepped up behind her. She pointed to a sign on the wall that indicated which parts of the hospital were in which direction. "There. Let's go." She and the robot strolled down the corridor to the right, ignoring the curious looks of those they passed. Soon, they came to a door, half- open, which was labeled HEMATOLOGY 1. "This is the place."

"On the count of...hey!" To her dismay, Faith was shoved aside by the Buffy-bot as she pulled a stake from one of her sleeves and rushed into the room. "Damn it!" She followed.

A vampire tackled 'Buffy' and slammed her into the wall as soon as she entered. Faith ducked her attacker, and drove her stake deep into his stomach. It was nowhere near his heart, of course, but the pain was enough that his response time dropped considerably. She ripped the stake out and struck a second time, plunging it deep into an unbeating heart and turning one more nameless bloodsucker to dust.

And yet two more, a male and a female, stood by the rear door which the group had undoubtedly used to sneak into the hospital in the first place.

One of them, a powerfully-built male, acted as if he was in charge. He had his arms crossed and a smirk on his scarred face. A buxom, athletic-looking redheaded female leaned against him.

"Right on time Slayer," said the head vampire. He smirked. "It appears the rumors of your demise were greatly exaggerated. I must say, in a strange way...I'm pleased."

'Buffy' staked a vampire on either side of her. "You won't be..." She kneed another in the groin. "...once I get to you." Two more jumped her, knocking her to the ground.

The lead vampire chuckled. "Somehow..." It was clear to see both Faith and 'Buffy' were being overwhelmed. "I don't think that's going to be a problem."

A stake burst from the chest of the female vampire and she gazed down, shocked, as she was turned to dust. In the now open rear doorway, stood Spike. "I beg to differ, mate."

With the welcome distraction provided by their vampiric ally, Faith and 'Buffy' were quickly able to regain the upper hand. Though they were woefully outnumbered it didn't really matter. Both of them were strong and quick and were able to work so well together, as if they had been training for it all along.

Much of that probably came from the robot's programming, Faith guessed, but as she and 'Buffy' slammed two vampires together and staked them simultaneously she wondered if there wasn't some instinct involved too. The robot was apparently just as much of a Slayer as she was. So she stopped worrying so much and concentrated on kicking as many undead asses as possible.

"You've screwed everything up!" Gregor growled. He punched Spike in the stomach, so hard the other vampire was momentarily doubled over with pain. "The Slayer was supposed to be the one to die here today!" He grabbed the stake out of Spike's hand and raised it above his head. "I guess I'll settle for you!"

'Buffy' abruptly appeared at Gregor's side. "No." She grabbed his arm, twisted, and effortlessly thrust the stake deep into his heart. "You will not."

With his few remaining seconds Gregor lashed out, his nails tearing away a chunk of 'Buffy's' plastic skin. His face contorted in understanding, just before he turned to dust.

"I think we'd better get out of here," said Spike. "Before someone calls in the cops."

Giles had just managed to stake one, and was being knocked to the ground by a second, while Willow and Tara were being backed against a wall by several more. They held hands and tried throwing everything they could find at the vampires, but for every one they knocked down or staked there seemed to be two more. The Scoobies had been outnumbered and outmaneuvered, and now were paying for it.

Faith cracked her knuckles and ran toward Willow and Tara. As soon as she got close enough she drew a stake from her belt and leaped into the air. One of the vampires who had been trying to grab the blonde witch, suddenly found his efforts being blocked.

"Leave her alone," the Slayer hissed. She staked the vampire, then grabbed the hair of the one grabbing Willow and pulled him into a position to stake him as well. "Her too!" She broke the leg of another, jammed the stake in his heart, and head-butted yet another, making her own skull ring like a bell. "Damn. Do you have a steel plate in your head or something?" She staked him too.

The Slayer did as she was told, narrowly avoiding a crowbar being swung at her head. She swept the legs of the vampire and staked him, then stood up. "Thanks," she said to the redhead.

Willow shrugged her shoulders. "I might not like you, but I still don't want you dead."

Faith smiled and, surprisingly, Willow smiled back. She glanced over her shoulder as Spike, the Buffy-bot and an out of breath Giles approached them. The Slayer sighed.

Faith stripped her shirt off as she strode down the stairs into the Summers' basement.

She wasn't tired. Just the opposite, in fact. As usual, fighting had left her wired and more than a little bit hot. It was one of the more pleasant burdens of being a Slayer. Buffy had been fortunate, usually having Angel or Riley or someone in her bed to take care of her. Faith, of course, was on her own, but there was a number of ways she knew could help to relieve the tension she was experiencing.

As she removed the last of her clothing, the Slayer heard the basement door close behind her and someone on the stairs. Heading down. Faith did not bother to cover herself. Modesty had never been one of her faults and, in fact, she was quite proud of her body. She glanced over her shoulder, a little startled when she saw it was 'Buffy' who stood there with her head cocked, staring at her.

"Giles," the robot replied. "He wants to make certain Dawn understands I am going to be around before he lets her see me. He believes it would be too traumatic for her otherwise."

Faith climbed into bed and pulled the covers up over herself. Inwardly, she cursed. It had been bad before, this was worse. Having the Buffy-bot around was a constant reminder of what she could have had with Buffy and was stupid enough to give up. Seeing Willow and Tara together was just as bad. They were so much in love, and Faith had nothing like that in her life. Buffy was the only person in the world who could ever have understood her and now she was gone. It was enough to bring more tears to her eyes.

Slowly, the robot turned her head. She examined the figure bundled up in blankets and sheets, and analyzed the strange movements and sounds she was making.

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Aftermath

By Kirk Baldridge

Kirk@mysticmuse.net