Chapter One

Buffy winced as the touchdown of the plane's landing gear jarred her broken leg, which was propped up in front of her. Luckily, the small Lear jet was well-equipped and spacious, so she could sit comfortably even in a full leg brace. Today was the last day she would be required to wear it, hopefully. Slayer healing was near miraculous, sometimes, but even she took a while to mend broken bone.

She sighed as she thought about her injuries yet again. She had been a little too slow. She and her team were cleaning out a vamp nest, and had been surprised to find a demon also holed up there. Demons and vamps didn't normally socialize, but the vamps must have been afraid to say no to this demon, because he had been a big bruiser. She had managed to distract the demon before he had crushed the skull of one of her troops, but he had smashed her leg with a big ironbound club before she could get clear of him. Luckily, one of the other team members had popped him with a full auto burst of incendiary bullets before his follow up stroke could snap her spine. Lucky her.

The bylaws of their little organization, which Xander had insisted be officially named 'Slayers, Inc.' stated that Buffy was required to take a vacation whenever injury put her out of action, unless there was an impending apocalypse. Which is why she had spent the last week in Hawaii, one of the few places in the world that was vamp free. It was just too hard for them to stay low profile, there, not to mention the difficulty for them in traveling there in the first place, while avoiding sunlight. Since her company had taken over security for the docks and the airport, vamps had given up trying. Which is why she almost ALWAYS vacationed in Hawaii.

But she always felt guilty about it. She knew that she needed the downtime just as much as anybody else, but it always seemed like she was running out on her duties when she left. Not that she would have been much good, action-wise, with a broken leg, but she worried. Which was why Willow would be waiting to give her a status report, first thing. Buffy just hoped they hadn't had too many casualties while she was gone. They hadn't lost anyone for a week before she left, but Buffy knew just how rare that kind of luck was, and she wasn't really expecting to make it two weeks without a death. But it was nice to dream. To remember a time when the people she failed to save remained anonymous.

These days, she liked to think she was doing a better job of cutting down the number of anonymous victims, but the flip side to that was the loss of people that she knew. People that she had hired, trained, and sent out to die. They were all volunteers, and they knew the risks better than anyone, but that didn't relieve her of responsibility when they died. Sometimes she thought it would kill her. But her own sense of responsibility, the thing that punished her for the countless deaths, also sternly reminded her how much worse it could be, without her. So she carried on.

"So, Will, did you keep a lid on things while I was away?" Buffy asked fondly, but with some worry hidden in the depths of her eyes. Willow saw it, and wished she had better news.

"Well, there is plenty of news, both good and bad. As usual. I'll give you the details when we get home, but, uh, we didn't keep up our casualty-free streak." Willow winced internally as she saw the guilt that immediately clouded Buffy's features, and wished, not for the first time, that she had more good news than bad. She could count the number of times that had happened on one hand. It seemed like there was always more bad news.

Buffy didn't say anything else, so Willow opened the passenger door and gestured for Buffy to climb in. She waited while Buffy carefully maneuvered her injured leg into the car, and then went around and climbed in behind the wheel. She made small talk with Buffy about her vacation activities while she drove them back to what had become known, amongst themselves, as Scooby Central.

Located on the site of what had once been Sunnydale High School, Scooby Central looked, to the outside world, like nothing more than another generic six-story office building, with the first floor converted into a strip mall. In actuality, the stores in the mall were owned, either collectively or individually, by the board members of Slayers, Inc. Buffy was the owner of the Summers Self-Defense Studio, which was a discreet nationwide chain of martial arts centers located in most major cities around the country. Willow was the president of Rosenberg Network Services, a low-profile but high-profit computer security firm, whose clients included seventy-five percent of the Fortune 500 companies at one time or another. Xander owned a construction company, who had offices in the mall and had built it, among other things. Harris Construction specialized in discreet, unusual renovations and construction. Willow still smiled every time she remembered Xander's excitement over being asked to bid for George Lucas's latest renovation of Skywalker Ranch.

Giles owned the Magic Box, although he didn't run it himself anymore, of course. It had been the first shop to open in the mall once it had been completed, and was now the largest and most discreet source for occult books and paraphernalia on this continent. The mall also contained a pizza place, which Xander owned because it was the only way he could afford to eat, so he said, a computer software store, owned jointly by Buffy and Willow, as well as a small boutique and an art gallery, which Buffy had had opened in memory of her mother. But it was all just a smoke screen, a distraction to excuse the unusual amount of activity which took place in the office building that the mall encircled. The home of Slayers, Inc. Of course, nobody knew it existed. You wouldn't find any letterheads with Slayers, Inc. on it, that was just their own, private name for the interlocking web of corporations they owned that allowed them to focus on their true task, which was, of course, battling evil and saving the world.

Willow smirked. Things sure had changed since high school.

The floors were covered with expensive, thick, charcoal-gray carpet. The walls were wood paneled, with tasteful landscapes hung here and there. Since Buffy was not a researcher, she saw no reason for bookshelves filled with impressive looking but useless books, so the wall behind her desk was covered with pictures, instead. Photographs of various sizes covered every inch. There were pictures of her family, pictures of her and the gang in front of various historic and scenic places around the world. And there were pictures of her with her students, from the early days of the Studio, when she still had time to train some classes personally. Now she trained the teachers.

The massive desk always made her feel like a little girl playing in her father's office. She mostly used it for someplace to put her feet while she did business on the phone, or listened to reports. She didn't spend all that much time in here, anyway. It was just a convenient place to take one-on-one meetings. Besides, Willow had told her it was important for appearances. On the rare occasions she had to call one of her employees onto the carpet, it made it easier to be professional if she was chewing them out from behind that massive desk.

Willow sat down in one of the comfortable chairs in front of her desk, and Buffy stopped woolgathering and arched an eyebrow at her, inviting her to begin.

"We lost a team last night. Albuquerque." She said quietly.

Buffy covered her eyes, trying to keep her composure while her mind screamed the names of fifteen more dead men at her. "Hector?" she asked. Hector had been the team leader, and she knew him. She knew all the team leaders, she had trained them all herself. She didn't have time to train everybody, but nobody became a field commander without having the polish put on by the Slayer, personally. Hector had been good, and he had been a friend. Not close, she didn't allow herself to get to close to the field teams anymore, but he had been nice. She remembered the barbeque he had thrown in Texas, after cleaning out an especially tricky nest in Dallas. He had made good ribs.

She wiped the one tear that had managed to escape from the corner of her eye, and shook off the guilt as she looked at Willow, her expression grim. "What happened?"

"They got hit at the staging area. It looks like the vamps spotted one of the surveillance teams, and followed them back. They hit the whole team that night. They took out the staging area first, we still don't know how, and then hit the van, which was apparently watching an empty nest at that point. We don't know how they made us."

Buffy tried to think, tried to avoid letting her guilt cloud her own thoughts too much. She had planned to hit that nest earlier this week, but the strike had been delayed while she recovered from her leg injury. The nest had been too large to send in a team without her. She just couldn't be everywhere at once, and it was killing her people. She needed help. She needed another Slayer.

Willow was surprised at the resolve in Buffy's eyes when she looked back up. She was used to giving these kind of reports to Buffy, and she knew how much pain they caused her friend. That was why she didn't show her pictures, anymore. It was bad enough that Buffy felt responsible for every one of their people who died, without showing her just how grisly those deaths were. She was used to seeing guilt, and pain, in those eyes after giving one of these updates. But this time, there was more. The pain was there, but it was overlain with resolve. Buffy had made a decision, and Willow knew instantly that Buffy didn't think she would like it.

"Willow, call the others in. We need to meet, because I'm going to be gone for another day or so."

"Gone?" Willow asked in surprise. This was definitely not what she expected. Buffy was still on the injured list, and she knew better than to think that Willow or the others would let her go into battle before she was back to her full strength. "Where are you going?"

"To get some help."

Xander had been out of the building when he received Willow's message regarding a board meeting, so he was surprised to find he was the first arrival in "the boardroom." Intentionally built to resemble the central area of the Sunnydale High school library, a point of nostalgia that Xander had insisted upon, it was located in the center of the fourth floor. The large oak conference table was surrounded by more comfortable chairs, but the table itself was almost identical to the old one from SHS. Xander had tracked it down himself. The low shelves surrounding the table contained a number of Giles' more commonly used reference books, mostly for nostalgia these days, because the entire library had been digitized and stored on computer. But it felt good to have the books around. A large multimedia center had taken the place of the stacks, containing a number of flat-panel displays which provided status reports from various ongoing operations, as well as the laptops on the table, which gave all of them access to any information they had available.

Xander grabbed a Coke from the small fridge in the corner, and sat down to check the latest reports from the field teams while he waited for the others to arrive. He had taken over command of the day-to-day field operations after Riley had been killed. Before that he had been Riley's second in command, as well as managing a rapidly expanding construction company. Once again he considered how far he had come. Six years ago, he had been convinced that he would be a pizza delivery boy for the rest of his life. Now he was moderately wealthy, not that that was really important to him, and he was intimately involved in the fight against evil and the defense of the innocent.

Not bad for the black sheep in a family of abusive, underemployed alcoholics.

Xander smiled as he read an e-mail from Will, explaining that she and Buffy had been delayed by Buffy's checkup. The meeting had been postponed for thirty minutes, which explained why he was the first one here. He took the opportunity to catch up on some field reports, and was surprised at how much he had gone through when the doors finally opened to admit Buffy, Willow, and Giles.

"Well," he said with a slow drawl and his trademark smirk, "look who finally decided to join us. I will have you know that you dragged me out of a fascinating discussion about the merits of various concrete mixes with one of my contracting partners, so this had better be good."

He was pleased to note that Buffy was no longer wearing a brace, so her X-rays must have been good. She was still limping, however, and she was still using the slim silver-handled black cane he had bought for her the first time she had fractured her ankle. He had not meant for her to get so much use out of it, at the time.

Buffy smiled a greeting at him, but he couldn't help but notice the weariness and pain that surrounded her like a cloud, and he knew that she had heard about the Albuquerque team. He hoped she wasn't planning anything rash. The follow-up team had reported the nest abandoned, so for now there wasn't much they could do.

Buffy took her usual seat at the head of the table, with Willow to her left and Giles to her right. Xander was sitting next to Willow, and he noticed she was more subdued than usual. Before he could ask her about it, Giles spoke up.

"Buffy. Wonderful to have you back. I trust your visit to the doctor went well?" he asked. Xander knew that he was actually asking when the doctor had cleared her for duty, but he was far too polite to just ask flat out like that.

"Yeah, Buff, when can you get back into the game?" He wasn't too polite to ask. He felt just as responsible for those deaths as she did. He knew them all, probably better than she did. He just hid it better.

"She said Monday. Provided I don't over-stress it in the next four days." She sighed. "That's sort of what I wanted to talk to you about. Willow told me about Albuquerque."

"Buffy, I know how you feel. But you can't blame yourself. There was a security breach on-site, and there's nothing we could have done to prevent that. It was a fluke," Xander said.

"Maybe. But if I hadn't been out of commission, we would have hit that nest last week, and this wouldn't have happened."

"Buffy," Giles began in his 'reassuring voice,' "You cannot regard every mishap and casualty as a personal failure. You know that nothing else could be done. You received your injury saving the life of one of your soldiers. Do you think that perhaps, if you had let him die, the those men in New Mexico might still be alive? Do you blame him for their deaths?"

"No, Giles. It's not like that. I know that I can't stop them all. But that doesn't mean we can't try harder. If we hadn't delayed, if there had been some way to make the hit without me, those men would still be here. At least, maybe some of them."

"But, Buffy," Willow began, "you know that nest was too large to take on without you. You're not thinking about experimenting with super soldier formulas, are you? 'Cause, y'know, we haven't had very good experiences, what with the Initiative and all."

"Don't worry." Buffy reassured the red-head. "I remember. No, I was thinking how much better off we'd be if we had another Slayer. I want to track down Faith."

She was greeted with a stunned silence, followed by vocal outbursts from both Xander and Willow.

"What!" Willow shouted. "You can't be serious. Faith! I mean-"

At the same time, Xander was shouting, "Do you really think a psychotic killer is the solution to-"

"HEY!" Buffy's shout cut them both off. She notice that Giles had refrained from commenting, and she shot him a look. He returned it with a nod that told her he understood, and would support her. "Look, this is not a debate. I need her. For a lot of reasons, but she could really help us. I'm not suggesting that we call her up and say, 'Hey, we've got a lot of heavily armed people we want you to lead into battle.' But let's find out if she's capable, and interested. Besides, I would like to talk to her."

"You would?" Xander asked, surprised.

"Of course I would. I have a lot of guilt about how things worked out between us. Faith wasn't the only one with problems in high school. I could have been far easier to get along with, if I hadn't been so self absorbed back then. I felt that I had my reasons, but I'm old enough now to admit that I was just too fucked up to help her when she needed it. And when she finally reached out to me, in LA, I lashed out. I'm sure that did her lots of good."

"But what I don't understand," she continued, "is why you guys are so down on her. I mean, she repented. She went to prison, and from what Angel told me, she stayed in prison even when they would've let her out. She declined an attorney, and didn't speak in her own defense. I certainly wasn't ready to believe her at the time, I admit, but she's earned a second chance, hasn't she?"

"But-" Xander began.

"But nothing!" Buffy said heatedly. "Why do you do this, Xand? Yeah, she choked you almost unconscious. That was six years ago! Since then, you've dated a vengeance demon who spent 1200 years killing, torturing, and maiming men. And she wasn't even apologetic about it! How is it that you didn’t have any trouble forgiving her?"

"Okay, Buffy, okay," Willow said, soothingly. "Maybe you're right. Maybe we just get upset out of habit. But are you sure you want to do this? I mean, you haven't even spoken to her since she went to prison. What makes you think she'll be interested?"

"Maybe she won't be. But I want to ask. Even if she says no, I want to talk to her. I've put it off long enough. Do you think you can find her for me?"

"Probably. I can hack into the parole records, they should have a current-"

"Ahem." Giles cleared his throat. Buffy, Willow, and Xander all looked at him, to see him polishing his glasses, and looking at the table. "She is in a small town in Oregon, called Silver Lake, I believe. I have an address."

"What?" three voices asked in unison.

"Well," Giles said defensively, as he put his glasses back on, "I was her Watcher, at least for a while. She passed word to me through Angel of her location when she got out. She said that if Buffy ever needed her, that was where she would be."

"How come you've never told me this, before?" Buffy asked quietly.

"Because you haven't needed her. Till now."

"So that's it?" Xander asked as he stood up and began pacing. "You're just going to run up there, say 'Hey Faith, we need you,' and bring her back here?"

Buffy looked him in the eye, and he stopped pacing. "Yes," she replied. "You have a problem with that?"

Xander clenched his jaw. "No," he replied after a moment. "But I'll be keeping an eye on her. I hope you are right, but I'd rather not get blindsided, this time."

Buffy had wondered, off and on over the last few years, what Faith might be doing when she found her. She knew that Faith had been released from prison shortly before she graduated from college, and had half expected her to show up in Sunnydale shortly after. But she hadn't, and Buffy had been too busy to really wonder why. She had thought about Faith occasionally after that, but had been hesitant to seek her out. She was glad, now, that she had waited. She hadn't really been ready, before, to be honest with Faith, and herself, about her actions in the past. She was now.

Whatever she had imagined Faith doing, it certainly hadn't been living in a tiny town in the middle of the forest in Oregon. Buffy had had the pilot land her helicopter at a small, private airstrip about two miles outside of town, and had taken the opportunity to enjoy the outdoors and the beauty of the forest by walking into town. She had an address, but she decided to look around for a while before seeking out Faith. So she walked around town, which took all of 10 minutes. Silver Lake was even smaller than Sunnydale. She had stopped in the only diner, bought a cup of coffee, and told the waitress she was looking for her cousin, who had moved here a few years ago.

Diane, the waitress, had replied that the only newcomer in a long time was the quiet girl who worked at the gas station.

Buffy had never pictured Faith as quiet, much less working at a gas station. So here she was, looking at the run-down old service station that seemed to be built to some kind of generic 'fifties design that went along the lines of 'Pumps out front, office behind the pumps, garage to the left.' From across the street, the place looked deserted, but Buffy's sharp eyes could clearly see the 'Open' sign in the window. There was no one visible in the office, but one of the doors to the garage was open, and the interior was too shadowed for her to see anything from here.

Taking a deep breath and wishing she weren't quite so nervous, Buffy walked across the street and approached the garage. As she got closer, she could make out a single figure working on a large Harley-Davidson. The grease-stained coveralls shrouded the figure's sex, but Buffy's Slayer senses were telling her this was Faith. And apparently, Faith's senses had gotten sharper in the last few years as well, because she stood up and turned around as Buffy stopped in the doorway.

"Faith." Buffy tried to be noncommittal, but she couldn't help smiling a little as she said the name. She was a little surprised at how happy she was to see her fellow Slayer. Not to mention how adorable she looked in those baggy coveralls, with her long brown hair pulled back in a ponytail, and a little grease smudge on her cheek. Buffy had to resist a sudden urge to hug her.

"B." Faith replied, raising her eyebrows. She had noticed the smile, and the slight edge of pleasure in Buffy's greeting. She had been wondering what would happen if Buffy ever tracked her down, but she certainly never expected a friendly greeting. She had been expecting moderately hostile, and would have been happy with that. Buffy looked good, she thought, although the slim black cane she was leaning on was a little out of character. Her hair was longer, and a few years had really brought out the elegance of her cheekbones. Her eyes, however, held shadows of pain and loss that hadn't been there, before. Her eyes looked beautiful, but haunted. Faith knew, because she saw echoes of that same pain every time she looked in the mirror.

"What – what are you doing here?" Faith asked after a moment. She tried to ignore the lump in her throat.

"Looking for you," Buffy replied quietly. Faith shrugged her shoulders, as if to say 'here I am.' "I never expected to find you in a little town in the woods. Not that I can argue with your choice, because the view here is beautiful, but, well, I just never pictured you-" she gestured at the magnificent wilderness that surrounded the town, "- here."

"What can I say?" Faith replied, looking at the floor and wiping her hands on a rag. "It's quiet, nobody bothers me, and best of all, no vamps. A guard I met in prison hooked me up with a job here, and I live in a trailer out back. It's more than I need, and better than I deserve."

"You deserve better." Faith looked up at that, straight into a pair of beautiful green eyes. She was surprised at the earnest sincerity shining out of them. "I came to apologize, Faith, among other things."

"What?" Faith couldn't hide her shock. "You don't owe me-"

"Yes, I do." Buffy stepped forward, and Faith noticed the way she limped and leaned on the cane. Once she was within arms reach, she reached out and took one of Faith's hands, and tugged on it, to get her to look up again. Once Faith made eye contact, she continued, "You weren't the only one who made mistakes. You weren't the only one that was fucked up back then. I don't know how you got this image of me as the perfect person in your mind, because I was a borderline basket case that year. Think about it. I had just run away that summer, gotten kicked out of school, and abandoned all my friends. Then, when I came back, right around the time I was pulling my shit together, Angel came back from hell and twisted me all up again. I didn't know why he was back, but I knew that my friends would insist that I kill him, so I hid him. Add to that the fact that I was still madly in love with him, in the way that only a naïve high-school girl can be, and knew that we could never be together, and I am surprised that I made it through the year. Then there was you."

"Then there was me," Faith said quietly. "I had to come in and make everything worse."

"You still don't get it, do you?" Buffy said. "You came in and made it better. I was the one who fucked it all up."

"What? No-" Faith began, but Buffy interrupted her.

"Let me finish. Please," she said, and Faith fell silent. "You came to town, and yeah, okay, rocky start, with Kakistos and all. Not to mention that I was jealous with the easy way all my friends took to you, when I still had a few rough spots left over from the summer. Not to mention my Mom, who liked you immediately. I had a problem with you from the start, but it was my problem. Later, I came to really appreciate the time we spent together. You were right, you know," she said, looking at Faith with a wry grin, "I really did need to find the fun. I like to think that I have, these days. But I had no clue back then. I was too wrapped up in all the shit in my life, and I didn't even pay attention to yours. And I don't mean just you, either, because I wasn't a very good friend to anybody back then. But Xander and Willow knew me well enough already to put up with it. I had just met you, and I really didn't do a lot to encourage you. Not really. I mean, I let you stay in that shitty motel on the opposite side of town from the rest of us, when I could have easily put you up with me and Mom. Or even with Giles. Then you would have been there, part of the group. Instead I just left you out there alone, and called you when it was convenient.

And then, it happened." Buffy didn't have to say anymore than that. Faith knew what she was talking about. "And we ran, and I left you alone. I've thought a lot, these last few years, about how things might have gone if I had stayed with you that night. That's probably my single biggest regret, out of all of it, that I ran off in a different direction from you.

And sure, you made mistakes. Everybody makes mistakes. But I gave you a bunch of talk about how good a friend I had tried to be, when I hadn't, not really. I wasn't a very good friend to anybody that year, but especially not you. I never opened up to you, all those talks we had about Angel, so why should I have expected you to open up to me? But I did. I don't know why, I guess I just thought that nobody deserved to shut ME out, never mind what I was doing." Buffy sighed, and looked at Faith. Faith was surprised to see unshed tears in Buffy's eyes. "I wanted you to know that I'm sorry. Sorry for not being there when you needed me, and for not being forgiving when you finally asked for it. I told you, I was fucked up."

Faith couldn't help but smile, because in all the time she'd known B, this was the first time she had heard her curse.

"You know you ain't getting' off that easy, B," she said. "I was the one that killed him. I was the one that hitched up with the Mayor, and tried to destroy the whole damn town. Maybe you don't think you did much in the way of reaching out the hand of friendship, but it was still more than I had ever had in my life. I think that I was so used to hate, I didn’t really know how to handle anything else. I felt a connection to you, a bond. And you did try to be my friend, even if you don't think so. But since I didn't know how to handle that, I turned it into what I knew. Hate. Abuse. I drove you away, because I didn't know how to do anything else."

"Well, I'm here now," Buffy said. "And I forgive you. For everything. And I ask your forgiveness in return."

Faith couldn't stop the tears that sprang to her eyes. Buffy reached for her, and Faith didn't resist as Buffy pulled her in for a tight, comforting hug. Faith hugged her back, and hoped Buffy didn't notice as she tried to blot the tears from her eyes. "I forgive you, B," she whispered. Buffy didn't reply, she just squeezed her a little tighter, then released her and stepped back.

"I also came to ask you to come back with me."

"Really? Why? Don't think I don't appreciate the invite, but why me, and why now? I don't know that I'd be much help to you, and I know that your friends will freak. Why cause more problems for yourself, B?"

"I need you, Faith. Nobody has ever understood me like you do. I'm tired of doing this alone. I miss you."

Faith hoped the shock of hearing those words wasn't written on her face, so she turned back towards the motorcycle she was working on to give her some time to think. She tried not get her hopes up, but she had never expected a chance like this again, and she wasn’t going to give it up without a fight, this time.

"Okay, Buffy. I don't know what you want with a broken-down ex-con like me, but if you need me, I'll come."

Then she had reassembled the Harley she was working on, shocking Buffy with the information that it was hers. "Yeah, B," she had said. "It's the only pleasure I've allowed myself in a long time. I take her out on the highway at night, and open her up, with the wind in my hair and the sky all around, and I can forget, for a while."

It only took ten minutes to pack the few personal items and clothes she had acquired since her release from prison, all of which fit neatly into the saddle bags on her bike. Then she had asked Buffy how she came to town.

"I walked," Buffy had replied.

"From Sunnydale?"

"From about two miles down the road. I have to admit, I'm kind of regretting it, right now."

"I've been meaning to ask-"

"I broke it. Actually, a big demon with a steel club broke it. A week or so back. I just got the cast off yesterday."

"Yah, broken legs suck. Even with Slayer healing. Well, you won't be walking back. You ready?"

Buffy had looked at her doubtfully, and Faith had laughed. "Let me guess, you never been on a chopper before."

"Well, actually-"

"Enough said. This-" she said, making a sweeping gesture towards the now-reassembled motorcycle, "-is a Harley-Davidson Dyna Wide-Glide Custom, with stretched forks and ape-hanger handlebars. It is my pride and joy, the one pleasure I have allowed myself, and the only valuable possession I have ever owned. Her name," she said, suddenly shy, "is Buffy."

Buffy stared at her with disbelieving eyes. "You're kidding."

In response, Faith gestured to the deep purple gas tank, and Buffy saw her name painted across it, on both sides, in a flowing script. In gold.

"You named your motorcycle after me?" Buffy hope the squeak at the end of that question wasn't too noticeable.

"You don't mind, do you?" Faith said, suddenly concerned. If she had offended B already, this wasn't going to get very far.

"No! I mean, no, it's just, well, ah" Buffy babbled, "-kind of a surprise."

Faith had grinned and winked at her. "Wait 'til you ride her."

So here they were, riding out of town on Faith's big chopper. Faith tried to ignore the effect that having Buffy's arms clasped around her waist was having on her, but she couldn't resist goosing the throttle, reveling in the way that Buffy clutched her a little tighter each time. Buffy's chin was resting on Faith's shoulder, and the wind was blowing their hair out behind them, the blonde and brunette strands intermingling.

Faith couldn't help but wonder, again, if this was all some strange, really pleasant dream that she would wake up from any moment. She vowed to sleep forever, if that was so. It was definitely the best dream she could remember in a long time.

She snapped out of her reverie when Buffy tapped her on the thigh and then pointed to the dirt road on the left, and Faith slowed to a reasonable speed, and made the turn. A minute later she brought the bike to a stop and leaned over so she could look back at Buffy in surprise. "You came here in a helicopter? Where did you get a helicopter?"

Buffy winked at her and replied, "Things have changed, a little bit. You'll see. I want to surprise you."

"Well, color me surprised. What's next, a Lear Jet?"

"How did you guess?"

In this time, in this place, he was known as Alistair Caine. He had gone by many other names in different times, different places. Three thousand years ago, when he was still a breather, he had been the younger son of a minor nobleman. In the years since his change, he had ruled empires, been an advisor to kings and popes, and feared by men both great and powerful. His enemies, some of whom were viewed by history as conquerors and rulers without compare, were all dead and gone, while he still walked.

And yet, he had more influence and control in this time, hiding behind a mask of anonymity, than he had ever had as an emperor or king. In this time, no one knew him, no one feared him. Unless he wanted them to.

He sighed as his thoughts returned to the vampire standing before him, and the news he brought. "And you are sure than none of them survived to tell the Slayer what they had discovered?" he asked.

"Yes, my lord. They fought well, but they were no match for us. We killed all of them in the warehouse they were using as headquarters, and then killed the ones watching the nest. We lost half the fledglings, but the elders and neonates survived, and have cleaned out the nest."

"Very well. Where did you send them?"

"A small ski town in the mountains, called Red River," came the reply. "There are numerous abandoned mines in the surrounding mountains, and with the skiing season just beginning, there should be a steady stream of fresh prey passing through the town. I have issued instructions for some of the elders to 'get friendly' with the locals, and to prevent the others from feeding on them. If they can stick to feeding on the tourists, no one should notice them."

"You have done well, Lucius. A ski town. I like it." Caine paused, tapping his finger idly against his lips while he thought. Lucius studied his master while he waited for his orders. He had served the vampire known as Alistair Caine for well over a century, and could tell that Caine was not happy about Albuquerque. Neither was he, for that matter. He had been called by one of the nest elders, who had been panicked that the Slayer had discovered them and would burst in to destroy the nest with fire and sunlight at any moment. Never mind that it had been the middle of the night at the time.

Lucius had ordered the evacuation of the nest and the hit on the Slayer's little 'commando' squad. Caine had been 'unavailable.' He had been worried that the master might feel he was overstepping his bounds, but he knew that Caine valued initiative more than blind obedience. And he knew that Caine was tired of the Slayer's interference in his activities.

"Well." The master's voice snapped Lucius out of his reverie, and he listened attentively. "I do believe I am getting very tired of this Slayer and her little friends. While I will remain forever grateful to her for eliminating The Master for me, she has come too close to discovering my activities too many times. I believe we can dispense with her. I have some ideas about how we can accomplish this, but first I need to know whether they are aware of me, and if they have put together the connections between any of our little ventures they have upset. I think we need to, ah, 'interview' one of them. Personally. Send a team."

"Yes, my lord."

"And call Natasha."

"My lord?" Lucius tried to ignore the sudden urge to shiver. "Do you wish her to come here, my lord?"

"Yes, for now. I have a feeling we might need her, when we go up against the Slayer and her friends. Besides, I have missed her. Prepare quarters for her, and make sure to acquire the," Caine paused briefly, "ah, refreshments, that she likes."

"At once, my lord."

"Very well."

He was tired of it. He didn't think she was aware of him, it just seemed as though she were determined to rid every city she could of vampires. And since he was trying to increase their numbers, he was one whose plans kept getting upset. It was time to end it.

Natasha would handle it.

Buffy watched in amusement as Faith's fingers clutched the armrests even tighter. The dark-haired Slayer hadn't shown any discomfort on the short helicopter flight, but once they boarded the small private jet for the flight back to Sunnydale, her eyes had gotten a little wide, and her forehead had acquired a faint gleam of perspiration. She had buckled herself securely into one of the luxurious leather seats, refused all offers of refreshment, and shown no more curiosity to Buffy about how she had arranged for a private jet.

She had simply hunkered down in the seat, taken a death grip on the armrests, and waited. Buffy had expected her to calm down somewhat once they were actually in the air, but she had not said a word the entire flight, other than negative responses to questions. And she hadn't opened her eyes once while they were in the air.

Buffy found it strangely adorable. The Faith that she had known in the old days had hidden herself behind an invulnerable mask of sarcasm, bitterness, and rage. The very suggestion of the kind of 'weakness' implied by being afraid of flying would have made her furious. But not anymore. She had been, well, not polite, but not hostile. She was obviously terrified, but she wasn't lashing out, she was simply enduring. Obviously, Buffy hadn't been the only one to grow up a little bit over the last few years.

Faith felt Buffy's eyes on her, as they had been for most of the flight. Buffy couldn't help but grin when Faith opened her own eyes, met Buffy's gaze, shrugged and smiled rather sheepishly. Then she closed her eyes again and gripped the armrests even tighter as they struck some mild turbulence.

Once they touched down in Sunnydale, Faith pried her fingers out of the indentations they had made in the arms of the seat, and walked down the steps behind Buffy. She was only moderately surprised to see long white limo waiting for them on the tarmac. She turned to Buffy with a raised eyebrow and a questioning look, but Buffy simply shook her head and opened the back door for her, gesturing her inside.

"What about my bike?" Faith asked.

"Don't worry, I've left instructions for them to unload, uh, 'Buffy,'" Buffy couldn't help but grin when she said it, "and bring her to the offices. It will probably take them an hour to get, uh, 'her' out of the cargo hold, anyway."

Faith nodded and climbed into the waiting limo. Once Buffy had joined her, Faith decided she had had enough surprises. "Okay, B. Color me surprised. So, you've had your fun, now spill!"

"Okay, okay!" Buffy laughed. "It's kind of a long story, so I'll just hit the highlights. Basically, right around the beginning of my third year in college, I decided that we needed some kind of organization. Something that would let us all make a living, and still fight the forces of darkness. And, hopefully, leave enough time left over for some kind of personal life. So we started planning, and learning. And working. By the time Willow and I graduated, Giles, who had bought a magic shop, had made enough money to give us some capitol. Xander, meanwhile, turned out to be some kind of genius when it came to construction management and organization. He was already a junior partner in a construction company by the time I graduated, and with Giles's help, he bought out the owner and re-named it Harris Construction. Willow went into business as a network security consultant and started making money hand over fist. Giles became the biggest importer and dealer in magical and occult resources on the continent, and I opened a nationwide chain of martial arts studios. However, the backbone of our organization, and the largest, manpower-wise, is the private security company that Riley started, at my request."

"Riley, huh? Does he still hate me? You guys didn't get married or anything, did you?" Faith tried not to show just how anxious she was when she asked that question. It wasn't like she really expected Buffy to fall in love with her. She would be happy with friendship. Hell, at this point, she would be happy with mild antagonism. But she didn't know if she could stand to watch Buffy be all lovey-dovey around Beefstick. It made her stomach turn.

"No." Buffy answered quietly. Faith saw the look of pain that flashed across Buffy's features, and guilt washed over her.

"Hey, B. I'm sorry. I didn't mean to open old wounds."

"It's okay, Faith," Buffy replied with a sad smile. "He died, last year. You see, Global Security Services, the company he started, isn't just another rent-a-cop agency, although we pretend to be. But mostly, our personnel are ex-military, or vamp attack survivors. Hell, we've even got some disgruntled former Watchers. We hire out to major corporations, city and state governments, wherever. But that's all a front. Really, we try to locate and destroy vamp activity wherever we find it. That's how Riley died, cleaning out a nest in Orlando."

"I'm sorry, Buffy," Faith said, and meant it. She didn't like to see Buffy in pain.

"It's okay. We weren't together like that, anymore. But he was still a friend, part of the team. He did a lot to get us started. He had contacts in the military, government, all over. He really helped us get this thing off the ground. We couldn't have done it without him, and I never really got a chance to tell him how glad I was to have him as a friend. We were always so busy. And then he led a team in to clean out a nest that turned out to be bigger than we thought, and I was in Baltimore, taking out a demon who was trying to steal the souls of a bunch of newborn babies. I wasn't there to back him up, and he died."

"Was it quick?" Faith asked quietly.

"No." Buffy replied, looking out the window.

Faith watched her for a moment, seeing the grief, and pain, then tentatively reach over and silently clasped hands with the blonde Slayer. Buffy squeezed her hand tightly, and they rode the rest of the way in silence.

"Damn, B. You guys own all this?" she asked.

"The whole building. Not me, personally, of course. The company. I am chairman of the board, although I tried to get Giles to do it; and the rest of the old gang, and a few new people, are the board members. Mostly, it's just on paper, anyway. We have some very smart businessmen, who we met when a seminar for innovative entrepreneurs was attacked by vamps. Apparently it was a setup by some major corporate executives who felt threatened. Anyway, we got wind of it just a little too late, and most of them were killed. Most of the survivors, however, joined the cause and have taken good care of handling the day-to-day aspects of running the business. Leaving us free to concentrate on our real work."

"Real work?" Faith asked, although she thought she knew.

"Saving the world, silly!" Buffy replied with a grin. "C'mon, the others are waiting to say hello."

Suppressing a hint of trepidation, and trying not to fall back into her old defensive habits, Faith followed Buffy to a small glass door located between the pizza place and Buffy's martial arts studio. Looking through the window of the studio, Faith could see what looked like an advanced class being coached through some pretty heavy sparring. They were fighting full contact, in light pads, and she saw a lot of finishing moves involving rubber training knives thrust into the heart.

"You teaching the citizens to fight vamps, too, B?"

Buffy glanced through the window. "No, that's an early level training class for recruits. We don't actually have many civilian training classes this late. Although we have this town covered pretty tight, now, this is still Sunnydale. Vamp activity here is three-hundred percent higher than just about anywhere else in the world, so I don't encourage the populace to wander at night. Especially not kids, which is who you get, in a lot of my regular classes." She turned back to the door, which Faith noted bore lettering identifying it as the offices of W.K.V. Inc., and punched in a number code on the small keypad next to the door. Faith heard a loud metallic CHUNK! from the door, as bolts retracted into the doorframe, then Buffy opened the door and waved Faith in past her.

"WKV?" Faith said.

"We Kill Vampires. Xander." Buffy explained.

"Cute."

Buffy led Faith down a long, bare hallway that led between the two businesses on either side, into what she guessed to be the middle of the first floor of the office building. The hallway ended in a small but elegant lobby, with a door on the walls flanking the hallway and an elevator facing her. Buffy extracted a small keycard from her purse, and swiped it through the reader on the wall, and the elevator doors opened immediately. Faith silently boarded the elevator behind Buffy.

As soon as the elevator doors closed, Faith began whistling the theme from James Bond. Buffy burst out giggling, throwing her hand over her mouth in embarrassment at how silly she sounded, which caused Faith to burst out laughing as well. By the time the doors opened on the fourth floor, Faith and Buffy were leaning on each other for support, clutching their ribs in pain, with tears running down their faces, they were laughing so hard. Xander, Willow, and Giles were standing still, with expressions of polite confusion, staring at the two young women. Faith and Buffy took one look at them and burst out in an renewed fit of giggles, and fell to the floor.

A few minutes later, they had regained their breath, if not their dignity. The only explanation they could give was, "You had to be there," delivered in unison. Faith took a moment to examine her surroundings. The elevator had delivered them to a large and well-appointed lobby, which looked more like it belonged in a mansion. There were comfortable and expensive looking chairs and loveseats, arranged in small groups, like a hotel lobby. Antique mirrors and artwork decorated the walls, which were dark wood paneled. It looked much like she had imagined the Watcher's Council headquarters would look, aside from being on the fourth floor of an office building. There were two hallways, with much the same décor, leading off to her left and right as she stood in front of the elevator. Giles led the group down one of them to a door, which led into a room with a startling similarity to the old Sunnydale High library, if you ignored the large multimedia center where the stacks should be, and the comfortable couches and well stocked bar in place of the old checkout desk.

Giles held open the door and the group moved inside, heading for the big table that was, as far as she could tell, identical to the one from the library, but Faith stopped when Giles put his hand on her shoulder. She turn to look at him.

He smiled at her and said, "Welcome home, Faith."

She startled the group by sweeping him into a fierce hug, then stepped back, coughed lightly, and quietly replied, "Thanks, Giles."

They all took chairs, and Willow greeted Faith. "So," she began, "you look good."

"Yeah," Xander chimed in. "Happier, or something." He smiled.

Faith smiled back at them all, surprised to realize how much she had missed them. Missed having a group of people who cared about her, or at least, potentially. She silently vowed not to screw it up this time, and said, "Thanks. I am, now. It's good to be back. Good to see you guys, again. Under, uh, better circumstances. Y'know?"

"So, what were you doing up in Oregon? Any good naked alligator wrestling I should know about?" Xander asked with a grin. Faith was surprised at how calmly confident he had become, and noticed the lack of leering as he asked the question.

"Waiting." She replied.

"Waiting for what?" Willow asked with a puzzled smile.

"I'm not sure, but I think I was waiting for this. For, y'know, the right time. Meanwhile I worked in a service station, rebuilding engines, working on boat motors, stuff like that. Just… waiting."

"I'm glad it finally came," Buffy said with a quiet smile. Faith smiled back.

"So, Faith, you want to have dinner tomorrow night?" Willow asked. "Buffy has a video-conference with a bunch of the field offices, so I thought we might, uh, catch up?"

"Sure!" Faith said with a surprised smile. Buffy smiled at her encouragingly.

"Drink?" Xander asked, walking to the bar.

"Sure." Faith replied. She half listened to Giles and Willow tell Buffy who had called for her and what she had missed, and watched Xander mix what she recognized as a Blue Kamikaze, which he downed before mixing drinks for the rest of the group. She guessed the Scotch rocks was for Giles, and figured the Long Island Iced Tea was for Willow. He opened a beer, for himself she supposed, and mixed two Jack and Cokes. She was surprised, therefore, to see him walk back over with the tray of drinks and place the beer before Willow, hand her one of the Jack and Cokes and place the other by his seat, and give Buffy the Long Island Iced Tea. At least she was right about Giles and the Scotch.

She picked up her drink and took a swallow, then coughed. The others looked at her in surprise, and she smiled in embarrassment. "Sorry, it's been a while." They smiled back at her, and Xander nodded. Buffy took a large drink, then looked at Faith.

"So," she began, "this is it. However, it's late and I'm tired, so if you guys don't mind, I don't want to talk shop all night." She looked at the others, and they all nodded back in understanding and said things about their own schedules. Buffy took another drink and looked back at Faith.

"Do you want to stay with me?" she asked with a slight pleading look in her eyes. "We can put you up in a nice place if you want, but I've got plenty of room, and we could, uh, hang out for a while…"

"I'd love it. Thanks, B."

Lucius studied the folders laid out on the table before him. Finally, he selected one and looked up at the group of vampires standing before him.

"This one," he said, handing the folder to the leader of the group. "is the most exposed. If you leave now, you can be there before sunrise. Setup surveillance, and go tomorrow night, if possible."

"Yes, Lucius," the leader of the vamps replies. He was East German, and looked like a terrorist stereotype from a Bruce Willis movie, to Lucius. Still, he was modern, relatively intelligent, and expendable. He would do.

Faith followed Buffy back down the hall to the elevator. Faith noticed there was a card reader here, too, as well as the more-to-be expected button. Buffy swiped a security card through the reader, and noticed Faith looking at her.

"The reader is for me and the others. There are some places in the building that you can't get to without one. I'll get a card for you tomorrow."

Faith smiled at her and replied, "No rush. I'm not going anywhere."

Buffy smiled back, and the elevator doors opened and they stepped in. The doors closed, and Faith felt the elevator begin to rise, although Buffy had not pressed any of the six buttons that Faith could see. She tried to step on her curiosity, but couldn't contain her shock when the doors opened to deposit them on what she realized, after a moment, was the roof.

"My God, B. It's amazing." She said, her eyes wide as she took in her surroundings. The elevator had deposited them in an atrium with a glass ceiling and no walls, and before her was a large patio area. The floor was a beautiful Spanish tile, and she noticed a hot tub almost large enough to qualify as a pool, as well as several umbrella-covered tables with comfortable chairs. She guessed that it would be great for small parties with close friends. To her right, a covered walkway led to what Faith realized was a large penthouse built on the roof. Buffy led her to a large sliding glass door facing the patio, and opened it to reveal an enormous living area, with a large flatscreen TV and a huge stereo rack. The room was decorated in the same tasteful style as everything else she had seen, although this place had a much more personal touch, and she recognized pictures from Buffy's old room on a shelf on one wall. Walking over, she noticed the pictures of the gang from high school. She was even surprised to see a picture of her and Buffy standing together, that she vaguely remembered Xander snapping one night when they were dancing at the Bronze after patrol.

"What ever happened to the Bronze?" she asked, struck by a sudden curiosity.

Buffy, who had been standing by the door watching Faith examine the room, smiled and replied, "We bought it. Remodeled it a little bit, added LOTS of exterior lighting to make the alleys safer, and Willow cast a protection spell that basically turned it into a residence, which keeps the vamps out. It's still there, and busier than ever."

Buffy walked to the kitchen area that was next to the living room, opened some cabinets, and began mixing herself a drink. Faith watched her pour a couple of tequila shooters, a Jack and Coke, and a rum and Coke. She joined Buffy in the kitchen. Buffy handed her a slice of lime, gestured to the saltshaker, and they did shooters simultaneously. Buffy then picked up the rum & Coke and handed the other drink to Faith.

"C'mon, I'll show you the bedrooms." Buffy led her down a hallway, past a bedroom that was obviously Buffy's, judging by the few articles of clothing hanging here and there, to the bedroom next door. Walking in, the first thing Faith noticed was the Japanese style sliding panels connecting this bedroom to Buffy's. There was also a king-size bed, identical to Buffy's down to the sheets, several dressers, a walk-in closet, and a well-equipped bathroom. Opening the closet, she was surprised to find it stocked with clothing.

"What are these, last year's outfits?" she asked.

"No, those are yours. If you like them. I, uh, wasn't sure what you might be bringing with you, but, y'know, one of the advantages to owning clothing stores is that you can deck out all your friends." Buffy smiled at Faith, then walked through the connecting door into her own bedroom. "We didn't do all this to get rich, you know. That was sort of an unforeseen side-effect. We were just trying to find cover jobs that would let us do what we needed to. But I have to admit, I enjoy the perks."

"Yeah, I can see how you could get used to this. I guess I got used to living simple while I was in prison."

"What was it like?" Buffy asked, sitting down on the bed. "If you don't mind talking about it. I mean-"

"It's okay," Faith interrupted. "I kind of want to, actually. After… Seeing you in LA, I knew I had to do something. Something for me. Angel wanted to help me, and he did. But I had to accept responsibility for myself, like you said. Never mind any extenuating circumstances, the fact remained that I had hurt a lot of innocent people, and I needed time to deal with that. So I turned myself in, confessed." Faith began to pace slowly as she talked, becoming more animated. "I didn't really understand any of it. I felt guilty, and I didn't even know why. Isn't that crazy?" she asked, turning to look at Buffy. "I mean, I knew WHAT I felt guilty for, but what I didn't understand was why I felt guilty THEN. As opposed to before it got out of hand, I guess. So I wanted to go somewhere where I couldn't get myself into anymore trouble while I tried to figure out what happened to me.

At first, I was near catatonic. It all started to pile up on me, and I spent a lot of time just thinking about my life. All of it, not just the Slayer stuff. It…it's still pretty hard to talk about…"

"You don't have to," Buffy said quietly. "Not now, not if you don't want. We have all weekend, more or less, and plenty of time after that. I'd like for you to tell me, but there's no rush. Just talk about what you want."

"Yeah," Faith said with a sigh, and smiled half-gratefully and half-bashfully at Buffy. "So after the trial, they put me in CIW. That's the California Institute for Women." Buffy nodded that she knew it, and Faith continued. "It's a hell-hole, literally. That's where all the weirdoes in the state wind up, and I guess they figured I fit right in. I was borderline suicidal by then, and I got into a few fights in the yard. Being fresh meat, all the Butch Predators came after me. I spent a lot of time in solitary, recovering from beatings."

"Beatings?" Buffy asked, wondering who had managed to take down Faith.

"Yeah, well, I didn't take any shit off the inmates, but I vowed not to fight the guards, so they would kick the shit out of me every time I put somebody in the infirmary."

"Oh, Faith," Buffy said, sadly. "I still feel like it was my fault. I was so angry when I saw you in LA, I just sort of flipped out. I felt really bad, later, not that it did you any good. I'm so sorry."

"Hey, B, don't be like that. It was my choice. Besides, it worked out. Being in solitary is how I met Julissa."

"Julissa?" Buffy said, and was surprised at the effort she had to make to keep the edge of jealousy out of her voice.

"Yeah. She was a guard. She was temping at CIW, and since I was the only person in solitary on my block, she would come down at night and talk to me. She really helped me pull it together. She got me transferred to Valley State, where she normally worked. It's a much better place than CIW, and she convinced me to take the GED, talk to some shrinks, and start taking control of my life. She's the one who got me that job, when I got out. She and I had a lot in common, and somebody had helped her straighten out her life before she went off the rails. She became a prison guard so she could return the favor. She kind-of made a project of me."

Faith looked up from the floor, which she had been staring at, to find Buffy gazing at her…fondly. Faith blushed and smiled, then looked back down at the floor. "Anyway, there's a lot of stuff I could talk about, but it's a little heavier than I want to get into tonight."

"That's okay. Like I said, we've got lots of time." Buffy walked into her own closet, still speaking to Faith, who was standing in the doorway between the two rooms. "However, if you don't mind, I think I'm going to go jump in the hot-tub. Want to come? Or you could watch a movie, if you prefer. Or whatever. I just need to relax." Buffy walked back out of the closet clad in a skimpy red bikini which immediately brought a lump to Faith's throat and send blood racing to various portions of her anatomy that she didn't want to think about. "My leg is killing me."

To cover her discomfort, Faith said, "Hot tub sounds good. I'd like to jump in the shower, first, though. Get some of the sweat and grease from the shop off me." Because she was looking away from Buffy, she missed the faint flush that appeared on the blonde Slayer's face at her words.

"Okay," Buffy said. "I'll see you out on the patio. Towels and everything should already be in the bathroom, and there should be several suits in one of those drawers." She gestured to one of the dressers against the wall, then limped out of the room.

Faith exhaled the breath she had been holding in a long sigh, then turned and went into the bathroom to take a cold shower.

Faith spent longer than she intended in the shower, discovering the joys of Bath & Bodyworks products, and then donned a white string-bikini she found in the drawer. She stepped out on the patio with a freshly mixed drink to see Buffy resting in the hot-tub with her eyes closed. Her eyes greedily drank in the sight of the blonde Slayer in her skimpy suit. She knew that Buffy didn't feel that way about her, but it didn't mean that Buffy couldn't fuel her shower fantasies.

"I'm not asleep, you know," Buffy said, and Faith jumped. "You can get in."

Faith climbed into the hot tub wordlessly, and settled across from Buffy, so she could watch the blonde Slayer's face. Buffy still had her eyes closed, and her arms were resting on the lip of the hot-tub, allowing her to float freely with her legs stretched out before her. A tiny corner of Faith's mind noted that Buffy's perfect toes were painted to match her fingers. She smiled at that.

"Something amuses you?" Buffy asked with an arched eyebrow, and Faith gave another guilty start, realizing she was a little drunk.

"Sorry, B. I guess I'm not used to the hard stuff anymore. I haven't really tasted any liquor since I got out."

"That's okay. You don't have to drink it. Just because the rest of us have become borderline alcoholics is no reason for you to emulate us." Buffy smiled after that to indicate she was kidding, but Faith wondered. She had noticed that Buffy had been hitting it pretty hard, but decided to wait until she was a little more familiar with the situation before making any judgments. Who was she to criticize, anyway?

"This feels good," Faith said aloud, to mask her inner thoughts.

"Yeah. Definitely required Slayer equipment from now on. Sometimes I can't sleep unless I spend an hour or so out here, just winding down."

Faith closed her own eyes, and emulated Buffy's position, resting her head and shoulders on the lip of the tub, and floating loosely in the hot, bubbling water. She felt the tension she wasn't even aware of beginning to seep out of her muscles, and she sighed.

She sighed inwardly and reminded herself that these kind of thoughts could only cause her problems. Beyond the fact that she wasn't entirely comfortable with having these kind of feelings about another woman, a new experience for her in and of itself, there was also the fact that Faith had never expressed any interest in her anyway. She was, or at least had been, a 'get some, get gone' girl. A lifestyle that Buffy herself had become uncomfortably used to since Riley's death. She was honest enough with herself to admit that she had a sex drive, and enjoyed it, but she saw no reason to drag someone into the pain of a relationship with a person who risked death on a near-daily basis. It was easier to pick up a stranger in a bar, let him satisfy her physical needs, and kick him out without trying to remember his name. If only it would fill the emptiness inside.

Realizing that these thoughts were getting her nowhere, she sat up in the tub and began massaging her sore calf muscle, which was protesting quite a bit that she had overused it today. She must have torn it worse than she thought, for it to still be this sore after a week.

"Thanks," Buffy said quietly. Faith simply winked and nodded at her. She tried to keep her touch as impersonal as possible, but couldn't help the effect that the electric touch of Buffy's skin was having on her. It felt like warm silk, and she was thankful that Buffy had closed her eyes again, because she was blushing furiously and her nipples were as hard as rocks.

She knew she was wasting her time, because Buffy had to be one of the straightest girls she had ever met. She suspected that her own half-serious flirts with her fellow Slayer had been one of the early stresses in their previous friendship. She was content to worship from afar, this time around. She loved Buffy too much to lose her because she couldn't hide her desire.

She was too distracted by her thoughts to notice Buffy's own rock hard nipples, straining against the thin material of her top.

"I'm beat. You need anything before I call it a night?" she asked. Like a goodnight kiss, Buffy thought wistfully.

"No, I'm with you. It's been a busy day. Best one I've had in a long time," Faith replied seriously. Then she gave the old trademark smirk and said, "Want me to carry you, gimp?"

Buffy suppressed her immediate impulse. "No thanks," she said with a wry grin.

Faith hopped easily out of the enormous hot-tub, and watched closely as Buffy carefully followed. Buffy stood up carefully and then tossed a large towel towards Faith, then picked up one for herself and dried off. She hung the towel back on a rack next to the hot tub, and headed inside. Her weak leg buckled on her first step.

Faith was there instantly, catching her easily and sweeping her into her arms. Without a word she carried Buffy inside. Buffy held herself stiff, resisting the impulse to cling to Faith, because if she did she knew she would be unable to stop herself. The feel of Faith's bare skin against hers was electrifying. Faith carried her back to her bedroom and sat her gently on her bed, next to her cane, which she had left there.

"Need anything?" she asked.

"No," Buffy replied with a grateful smile. "Thanks. For the help."

"Anytime, B," Faith replied with a wink and a smirk. "Goodnight." She walked through the connecting door, sliding it shut behind her.

Buffy awakened with a gasp, her fingers clenched in the sheets. She was soaked with sweat. As she caught her breath and recovered from the nightmare, she tried to focus on the memories of her dream. Its theme was familiar, running towards someone, trying to save them before it was too late. She didn't know who, or what, she was saving him from, she just knew she had to get to him before it was too late. She had had similar dreams about all her friends, at one time or another. Even more about the friends she had already failed to save.

She decided it probably wasn't a Slayer dream, but she dutifully sat up and logged the details she remembered on the laptop on the table next to her bed. It was routine procedure, and Giles and Willow would compare it to other recent dreams, looking for patterns. She had learned that she wasn't always right about judging which of her dreams were prophecy or not. The hard way.

As she finished, she heard Faith thrashing and crying out in the next room. She grabbed her cane and limped to the panel separating the bedrooms. Sliding it open quietly, she saw that Faith was having a nightmare of her own, and a bad one by the look of it. She limped to the bed and gently shook the other Slayer awake.

"I'M SORRY!" the dark hair girl shouted, just before she awaked, sobbing uncontrollably. Buffy pulled her into to a tight hug immediately, as the girl continued to sob. "I didn't mean it…I didn't mean it…" she sobbed over and over into Buffy's shoulder. Buffy could feel Faith's tears soaking through the silk of her nightshirt, and they prompted tears in her own eyes.

"Shhh…Shhh…" she soothed. "It's okay, Faith. It's just a dream. You're here with me, you're okay," she said quietly, stroking Faith's back. For once, Faith's touch didn't provoke immediate lust in the blonde slayer. It hurt her to see Faith in pain like this, a pain she could identify with all too readily these days. She had plenty of memories of nights where she awakened crying or screaming, these last few years. It was one of the many reasons she avoided letting the men she brought home spend the night.

Faith's tears began to slow, and after a few minutes she gently pulled away from Buffy. Buffy released her but captured the dark Slayer's hand with both her own, and quietly asked, "Are you okay?"

"Yeah," Faith replied with a sigh. "Thanks. I don't get that one so often anymore, but… It's a doozy."

"Do you want to talk about it?"

"It's no big, B. Just the residual guilt from a psychotic episode," Faith said quietly, with a hint of bitterness.

"I have them too, you know," Buffy said gently. "I'd like to hear about it. Then, maybe… you could listen to one of mine?" She tried not to sound pleading, but Faith heard the entreaty in her voice.

"Okay, B." She slid over, silently inviting Buffy to climb into bed. Buffy did so, and the two slayers lay next to each other in the huge bed, laying flat on their backs in the darkness. There was plenty of room, and Faith kept plenty of space between them, although she held onto Buffy's hand. Faith had noticed how uncomfortable Buffy had been when she had carried her earlier, and didn't want the blonde slayer to feel that discomfort now.

They lay there silently in the darkness, and Faith struggled with her reluctance to begin. She wanted to tell Buffy about it, but she didn't know how and was afraid to sound pathetic. She felt pathetic enough already.

"Was it about…Finch?" the blonde slayer prompted quietly. She didn't want to pressure Faith, but she didn't want the dark-haired Slayer to close herself off, either. She wanted the kind of friendship they had had the potential for, before. She wanted more than that, in truth, but she wanted that, at least.

"Yeah," Faith answered, relieved. "I'm in the ruins of the school, and he's there. He's dead, and all decayed and stuff, but he's yelling at me. How he was coming to us for help, because he knew what the Mayor was trying to do and wanted to stop it. He wanted to get out, but I killed him. If I hadn't, we could have killed the Mayor before he became invincible, and all those people wouldn't have died, the school wouldn't have been destroyed, all that stuff."

Faith pulled her hand out of Buffy's and turned to lay on her side, facing the other slayer, propping herself up on her elbow. "I failed, y'know?" she asked reflectively, then continued before Buffy could interrupt. "I failed my test. My calling. My big moment was him."

"Faith…" Buffy began, emulating her pose and facing Faith in the darkness. She could just make out the other Slayer's face.

"I thought a lot about it, while I was in prison. My big test. Yours was Angel," Faith continued, overriding Buffy. "You loved him, but you had to send him to hell, in spite of that. Even with his soul back. That was your big test, and you did it. It hurt, but you were strong enough. You sacrificed your love. That was your test.

Mine was control, and I blew it. I couldn't control myself. A part of me knew, even before you said anything, that he wasn't a vampire. The same part of me that told me to talk to you that time you came by after the fight with that phony Watcher. It told me to trust you, and I didn't listen. Just like I didn't listen that night. I never listened. I didn’t listen when it told me to go with you to Giles, and be straight. I didn't listen when it told me to go with Wesley, even if he was a dork, and face the Council. Take my medicine."

She sighed. "And I didn't listen when it told me to come find you, talk to you, after I woke up from the coma. To apologize, and work it out. Ironically enough, it was Red who got me hearing it again. While I was you. I ran into her in the Bronze, and she spotted a vamp. That little voice that had been quietly screaming at me for quite a while by then told me to go kill it, but I suppressed it, like always. Then I remembered that I was pretending to be you, so I went ahead and went after it. And I saved this girl. It was no big deal to me, just an inconvenience of pretending to be you, but she was all grateful. She didn't know me, didn't know you, but I could tell she meant it. She was sincere. And it felt good. Real good. And I started wondering if maybe that voice was right, all along."

"By the time I broke down in LA, I knew I had failed. My whole life, everybody told me I was good-for-nothing, a waste. A failure. And I had gone out and proved them right. When… when you came, to LA, I had just killed a demon, there in Angel's apartment. When I saw the blood on my hands, it was just like the first time, with Finch. That was when I decided to turn myself in. I was a failure, and I deserved to be punished. I couldn't make up for what I had done, but I gradually learned to control myself. I got in fights, people came at me with shivs more than once in the yard, but I didn't kill any of them. I hurt some pretty bad, before I learned to pull my punches, but I didn't kill them. And I never hit a guard.

That was how I met Julissa. She had been ordered to stay out of my cell, because I was 'dangerous,' but she had noticed that I hadn't fought the guards. So she came down to talk to me. She helped me come back to myself, made me realized that I couldn't help myself or anyone else by killing myself, and helped me deal with some…problems…that had, uh, contributed to my inability to control myself. Eventually I got motivated, and then got out."

Faith took a deep breath, and said quietly, "I haven't been able to Slay, since. I tried, after I got out. I stayed with Angel for a few days, and I went out on a patrol with him. I wanted to contribute, to help him. But I couldn't. I could fight, some, but when the moment came, the chance for the kill, I froze. Everything came back, the blood on my hands, and I froze. Angel got hurt, the beast got away and killed a few more people, and I couldn't move."

She took another deep breath, and continued. "Angel didn’t hold it against me, but I couldn't stay. I couldn’t stand living there and not being able to help, so I called J and she hooked me up with the job upstate. I asked Angel not to mention anything about this to you, or Giles, and I split. I hid out upstate in a little town with no monsters, because I wouldn't have been able to fight them. I've failed my Calling."

She turned away from Buffy and curled up, and said, "I didn't say anything before, because I wanted to come here, and see you. And everybody. To apologize. But I won't be staying, because I wouldn't be any good to you. I'd like stick around for the weekend, to talk to the others, but I'll take off on Monday and get out of your way."

Tears were rolling down her face as she finished, and she waited for Buffy to berate her for wasting her time, for letting her drag her all the way down here for nothing.

Buffy didn't say any of those things. Instead, she slid over behind Faith and wrapped her arms gently around her fellow slayer and pulled her gently back against her, wrapping her arms comfortingly around the dark haired girl. Faith began to sob, and Buffy rocked her gently, stroking her hair. She had listened quietly and carefully to everything Faith had said, because she knew the other girl had had to say it, and she couldn't refute the girl's arguments until she knew what they were.

"You didn't fail your test," she said, when Faith's sobbing had quieted. "You made a mistake, several, but you didn't fail. We all make mistakes, but the test isn't over till you die, Faith. You haven't failed it yet. Don't give up until it's over. At the moment, I think you're doing pretty good, over all."

She shook the dark-haired slayer gently. "We all make mistakes. God knows I've made plenty. Yeah, I may have sent Angel to hell and saved the world, but I sure as hell don't consider that a victory. To me, that's one of my worst failures. He was already dead, he died the instant he lost his soul. Just like any other person who gets vamped. If I had killed him, Angelus wouldn't have been trying to awaken Acathla, and Angel's soul wouldn't have been summoned back from wherever it went and sent to hell. Not to mention the fact that before that occurred, Angelus had killed a lot of people, people close to me. He killed the woman Giles loved. She was trying to curse him again, for me, and he killed her.

I had a chance to kill him, several, before that. But I couldn't do it. I couldn't Slay the vampire that had killed my lover, and because of that I had to send my lover to hell. I don't consider that a victory. I have recurring dreams, a lot like yours, but about Ms. Calender, and others. We lost a team while I was on sick leave, because I wasn't there. It hurts. But I try to do better."

"But I won't be able to," Faith said. "I can't Slay, I can't make up for my mistakes."

"You don't have to Slay to do that," Buffy said. "I didn't want you here just because you could Slay. I just wanted you here."

"Why?" Faith asked quietly, trying not to get her hopes up.

"Because I care about you," Buffy replied. She resisted the impulse to tell her how much. She didn't need to complicate the situation by dragging romantic issues into it. "I still regret, I've ALWAYS regretted, losing the friendship that we could have had. I don't want to, anymore."

Faith sighed, but nestled tighter into Buffy's arms. It was enough.

Faith awaked at 6 a.m. on the dot. She had not been a morning person by nature, but a few years in prison had changed that. She gradually became aware that she was laying on her side, and Buffy was nestled against her back with her arms around her. One of her hands was gently cupping Faith's breast. Faith tried not to enjoy the feeling too much, although her nipples hardened immediately. She told herself not to read anything into it, because Buffy had always been pretty cuddly-feely with everyone. A great one for hugs, was Buffy. Faith just wished she had realized how much she had wanted them, needed them, before it had been too late, before.

She gently disentangled herself without waking the blonde slayer, and took a guilty moment to admire the view of the beautiful woman curled up in her bed. She hadn't been in any state to notice Buffy's appearance last night. She was wearing an oversized peach nightshirt, made out of very sheer silk. Faith also observed that she wasn’t wearing anything else. Buffy had the sheet between her legs, and Faith let her eyes follow the perfect lines of Buffy's calf, her smooth thighs, coming to rest on the curve of Buffy's enticing ass, uncovered, before guiltily pulling herself away from the view. But she couldn't help but wonder if Buffy normally slept bare, as she herself used to. Another habit broken in prison.

Faith looked consideringly at her bathroom, before shaking her head. She didn't want to wake Buffy. Instead she quietly walked into the blonde Slayer's bedroom, and performed her morning ablutions in Buffy's bathroom. She noted in passing that Buffy had improved her neatness with regards to organizing her cosmetics, which had been scattered everywhere the last time she had been in Buffy's old bathroom back at her Mom's. She had also increased her collection to rival a department store, to Faith's eyes. And she had thought the guest bathroom was overstocked.

She also noticed the condoms in the medicine cabinet, although there was a distinct lack of any other male personal paraphernalia. She took that as a hopeful sign that Buffy wasn't involved, at the moment. She showered quietly, then wrapped a towel around herself and quietly went back to her own bathroom to brush her hair. Buffy had not awaked, and she carefully tuned her sensitive Slayer hearing to the sound of Buffy's even breathing while she finished her morning routine in her own bathroom, and then put on a black silk robe she found hanging on the back of the door. It was her size, she noted.

Stepping back out into her room, she confirmed that Buffy was still dead to the world. She then submitted to her own naturally curious nature, and began casually snooping in Buffy's bedroom, listening to the blonde slayer breathe, all the while.

The first thing she did was look in Buffy's bedside table, and discovered that the once uptight Slayer had at least learned that you didn't need a man to enjoy yourself. She also observed another box of condoms, open this time, which told her the blonde was still straight as an arrow. She sighed wistfully and moved on to Buffy's closet. The size of the wardrobe within stunned her. She could have clothed the entire prison population with the contents of this closet! Of course, she reminded herself, as a Slayer you tended to run through your wardrobe pretty quickly. In the old days, she had dealt with that by wearing cheap, trashy disposable clothing or something durable enough to stand it, like her old favorite leather pants. Buffy had always seemed to wind up fighting evil in a prom dress or something.

She smiled as she remembered the Homecoming dance, her only "official" date with Buffy, although she knew Buffy hadn't seen it as one. Faith had given her the line about 'using a couple of studs,' but she had been half-hoping to get the blonde Slayer drunk and drag her home. It hadn't worked out that way, of course, but Buffy had looked incredibly sexy in her disheveled state after being hunted with Cordelia, and Faith had savored that memory later that night, alone. If only… No. Better not to dwell on things she couldn't change. She silently closed the closet door and left the room.

Her stomach reminded her of her duties to it, and she headed into the kitchen. It was separated from the living area by a freestanding counter, kind of like a bar, with stools and everything. Faith could imagine Xander and Red sitting there chatting with Buffy while they ate, and wished she had been able to share in those moments. Maybe now she could. But first she had to make breakfast. She started with coffee.

She smiled, her mind wistfully playing a few images of how THAT might have been, before guiltily shoving them out of her mind. Then she slid out of bed, stopped in her room to grab her favorite robe, a big blue fluffy one that always made her feel like a little girl in her daddy's robe. It was warm and soft, and thick enough to hide the embarrassing physical responses that being around Faith had been evoking in her lately.

She headed into the kitchen, and was stunned to see Faith in the midst of cooking a lavish breakfast. In addition to the things she had already smelled, which she was pleased to note included waffles, not pancakes, she also noticed fresh fruit, cleaned and sliced, and what looked like two bowls of her favorite cereal, Banana Nut Crunch, one of which Faith appeared to be eating while she cooked. That girl still had an appetite like a goat.

Buffy sat down on one of the stools at the counter, and Faith finished the eggs and bacon, prepared two loaded plates, and placed one before Buffy before sitting down before her own. "Morning, sleepyhead," she greeted the blonde slayer, and Buffy smiled at her.

"Sorry," she said. "I normally set my alarm, but I turned it off when I woke up last night, and since, well, I didn't, uh, y'know, so I overslept. Sorry," she finished, and covered her embarrassment by digging into the heaping plate before her.

Faith smiled, and set to demolishing her own breakfast, as well.

"This is incredible, Faith," Buffy said with some surprise, after a few moments. "I had no idea you could cook." She looked up from her plate, and eyes caught the aroused nipples poking through the black silk of the dark haired Slayer's robe. Her breath caught, and she quickly shoved another forkful of waffles into her mouth, hoping Faith hadn't noticed.

"Well, I couldn't, not really, before. But when J talked me into getting some education in the Valley, I took a pretty wide variety of electives. It was something to fill the time, y'know? So, among other things, I discovered I had a talent for engines and recipes. It was kind of cool, finding out I had some other talent besides killing. Made me feel like maybe I wasn't completely worthless." She looked up from her own plate to catch Buffy trying not to stare at her still-hard nipples. Realizing she had been caught, Buffy began to blush, and Faith felt her own cheeks heating in response. To cover her embarrassment, she said evenly, "It's a little chilly in here, B. I couldn't find the thermostat."

"Oh!" Buffy said, covering her open mouth and going absolutely crimson. "I, uh, well, uh," she paused, took a deep breath, not looking at Faith, and said in a loud voice, "Willis, what have I told you about turning the thermostat up when we have guests?"

Faith notice the sudden quiet as the A/C kicked off. It was a good one, she observed, she hadn't even heard it until it was gone. "Willis? Should I reconsider my plan to walk around here naked all day? Who's Willis?" She suddenly considered the possibility that Buffy's large robe belonged to some large boyfriend that she simply hadn't seen yet. She tried not to let that bother her.

"Willis is," Buffy paused, considering, and Faith's heart plummeted to her knees, "well I guess you could call him my butler." She smiled and Faith jumped as a little silver bell on the breakfast bar counter rang once. "He's also a ghost."

"He's a ghost? What, like Casper?" Faith asked in shock.

"Not exactly, but close. Willis was one of those old school English butlers, like Alfred from Batman. He was brought over here in the twenties, by some rich guy who wanted to fit in to high society. I guess he was some kind of overnight millionaire, back in those days, and he was trying to put some polish on his image. From what we've been able to gather, he was a really nice guy, a blue-collar type who struck it rich, and Willis was very fond of him.

Anyway, Willis served his master and the family for a number of years. One night, the regular chauffer had gotten sick, and Willis was driving the master's family home from the theater, when they were attacked by vampires. Willis managed to escape, but the family was killed. His master killed himself out of grief, and Willis died of a heart attack when he found the body. He was cremated, and the ashes were returned to the estate, which was eventually sold. His ashes ended up in an attic for a number of years, and his ghost haunted the mansion, off and on. Apparently he only came out when the people who lived there had children. He wasn't mean or evil, but he scared everybody nonetheless, and the checkered history of the mansion eventually came to Angel's attention a few years back. He and Wesley, who had been through a similar situation with Cordelia, figured out what was going on and Cordelia managed to communicate with Willis, after a fashion. He showed them his history, and managed to get across that he was trying to atone for his guilt over abandoning his master's family through service. Cordelia already had a live-in ghost, however, so Angel thought of me. They passed the idea to Willis, along with what I do, and Willis was eager to serve a Slayer. He showed them where to find his ashes, which they sent to me, allowing him to come here.

So now, he's my butler. I feel guilty sometimes, having a butler, but he likes to do things for me, and it's another one of those perks that you get used to. He likes guests, too, although he usually won't reveal himself until and unless I talk about him, because he doesn't like to scare people. But he's always around, and apparently he's a little more sophisticated than the one that lives with Cordy. He can write little notes, if he has something important to say, and he rings that little bell whenever he has something to tell you, or to show his approval and agreement." Buffy smiled fondly at the little bell.

"Wow," Faith said. "That's wicked cool. But, and I mean no offense here Willis," she looked around apologetically, wondering where you talked when you talked to a ghost, "doesn't it make you uncomfortable sometimes, wondering if he's watching you, uh, y'know?" Faith finished with an embarrassed smile and shrug.

"You know, your speech patterns have really changed. You used to just say screw or shit or whatever. What's up with that? Not that I mind or anything, just wondering?"

"Well, among other things, J taught me a little about the value of not offending people with everything you say. I'm not great at it, but I'm trying to be polite, B, y'know?"

"Don't worry," Buffy replied. "I'm not easily offended, these days. At least not by my friends, among which I hope you know I count you." She smiled at Faith, and Faith gave her a relieved smile in return. "But," she continued, "I have to tell you that I've kind of missed your old habit of telling it like it is, and shooting from the hip."

"Okay, so back to the point, doesn't it bug you to have Willis watching when your using some stud, or taking a shower?" Faith jumped again as the little bell rang twice, sharply.

"Don't worry, Willis, she's doesn't know. That's why she's asking," Buffy said reassuringly towards the bell. "Willis is the soul, pardon my pun, of discretion," she said to Faith. "Just imagine how embarrassed Giles would be if he walked in on you in the shower. Willis is ten times worse. Or better, depending on how you look at it. He's a ghost, so it's not like he has hormones to deal with. Or a sex drive. He hangs out around here, mostly, and only shows himself in the bedrooms if you're not there, or you call for him. He goes in when I'm gone and picks up clothes and things for me, but it's not like he's a big gossip or something. He's very devoted. The one time I, uh, brought a bad guy, uh, here," Buffy was blushing again, and Faith adored the cute little way she tucked a stray lock of blonde hair behind her ear before she continued, "Willis wouldn't even let him in. I got off the elevator, and Willis shoved him back in and sent it down before I could do anything. Then he wrote me a note explaining that this guy was some kind of demon worshipper, here to drug me or something. He was kind of vague, but we tracked the guy down and he was definitely evil."

"Okay, I was just askin', Willis," Faith said. "It's not like it bothers me. I've let plenty of people watch me do all kinds of stuff, anyway. I just wondered how you felt about it, B."

Buffy stared at Faith, curious and sad both, noticing the bitterness in Faith's statement. She wanted to ask 'what kind of stuff,' but she sensed that now wasn't the time. Instead, she said, "Well, now you've met Willis. If you want it warmer or cooler, just ask him. He also cooks a surprisingly large variety, considering he's English, no offense, Willis. He'll get you the phone, or just about anything else, but you'd better be ready to catch, because sometimes he tries to be helpful and can catch you by surprise. He's also," Buffy lowered her voice and looked around, "a very good listener. He doesn't interrupt, doesn't tell your secrets, and brings you tissues at all the right times. If you ever, y'know, need somebody to talk to besides me. Or anybody else."

Faith smiled, and said, "Thanks. I just might take you up on that, Willis. From time to time."

Buffy smiled back at her, and said, "Good. Now, on with the day. I thought maybe I could give you a tour of the offices, introduce you to some of our key people, stuff like that? Plus that would give me an excuse to get some work done, since I'm supposed to be on vacation because of the leg. But we don't have to, if you wanted to do something else…"

"No," Faith said. "I'd like that. I'm wicked curious as to just what's going on here, I must admit."

"Good," Buffy said. "I'm just going to jump in the shower and get dressed. Did you find your clothes? Are they okay? I mean, I asked her for variety, because I could, but our offices are pretty casual, so it's not like you have to dress up or anything…" Buffy trailed off, realizing she was babbling.

"They're fine, B. Go take a shower, I already had one."

Her mind wandered back to the image of Faith's nipples poking through black silk, and she shook her head, disgusted with herself. Still, it hadn't seemed THAT cold to her…

She stopped in surprise in the act of opening the glass patio door, observing Faith out on the patio. The dark haired Slayer was performing a Tai Chi routine very similar to Buffy's own, and she paused for a moment to appreciate the beauty of the dark Slayer's lines, and her smooth, flowing movements, before silently joining her. She started her own routine just as Faith began hers again.

Faith had observed the blonde Slayer's arrival on the huge patio, but said nothing. She was a little surprised when Buffy joined her, echoing her movements with only minor variations. She noted the differences in their routine, planning to discuss them with Buffy later. Buffy's moves had an older, almost archaic quality to them. Faith suspected they were much closer to the original than her own more modern teachings had been. She also admired Buffy's graceful style, which made her feel almost clunky. She wistfully remembered a time when she and Buffy had been very evenly matched. She suspected the blonde slayer could take her easily, these days.

The two Slayers finished their routines, and stood watching each other in a calm silence. Eventually Buffy asked, "Did you learn that inside, too?"

Faith nodded, and said, "J taught me, and a few others. She sold it to the warden as an anger management class, crossed with aerobics. The warden was pretty cool anyway, kind of a freethinker for someone in corrections. Valley State is sort of where they send you if they think you've got a chance, outside. Julissa got me up there."

Buffy nodded, and asked, "Do you still see her?"

"Not really. We talk on the phone, though. She called to check up on me a week or so back. She wanted me to go down to Florida when I got out, meet her family and stuff. I still want to, someday, but I told her I had things to do on this coast."

"Well, we travel all over, so I'm sure we can arrange to meet them, sooner or later. If you don't mind me taking you there."

"Not at all. I'd like you to meet Julissa, too. She's wicked cool. She was kind of like a big sister to me. She introduced me to the possibility of a normal family." Faith ran her fingers through her hair, pulling it back out of her face. "So," she asked, "who taught you?"

"Angel," Buffy replied. "When he came back from hell, he was really weak. That's part of why I kept him secret, because I was afraid that if the others decided to kill him without telling me, he wouldn't be able to stop them. And I wasn't sure he'd try, anyway. But I nursed him back to health, and along the way he taught me Tai Chi. I practiced it off and on, through high school and college, but now that I have time to do it everyday I find it helps me quite a bit."

"Yeah, it's a good way to start the day. Keeps you limber, wakes you up, and promotes that inner calm," Faith said with a grin.

"Now there's something I never thought I would hear, coming from you," Buffy grinned back. "Inner calm. Wow."

Faith playfully smacked Buffy on the arm as the two Slayers walked back inside to change. "Yeah, well, people DO change, B."

"Don't I know it," Buffy replied.

(Author's note: to see this outfit, go to www.sarah-michelle-gellar.com. It's on the frontpage, and it's one of my favorites.)

For a conservative English butler, Willis could sure design a look. Buffy suspected that he spent at least some of his free time reading all of her fashion magazines. She knew she hadn't subscribed to ALL of them.

Behind her, she heard Faith emerge from her bedroom, finally, and she turned to look. Her jaw dropped in shock. Faith noticed her look, and stopped.

"Is this okay?" she asked, confused.

"Yes, yes," Buffy stammered, recovering from her stupor. "You look incredible!" And she did. Faith wore black open-toed high heels, and tight black pants that hugged her curves, flaring out at mid-calf and showing her trim ankles. A tight, black silk vest left her arms bare, and emphasized her firm, large breasts. A tight black choker, with a small silver cross dangling from it, completed the ensemble. Faith's dark hair was swept back, exposing one bare shoulder, and her dark red lipstick emphasized her creamy skin. Buffy thought she was the most beautiful thing she had ever seen.

Faith blushed, and smiled. "Thanks. Willis, uh, helped me pick it out."

Buffy smiled, and stood, gesturing to her own outfit. "He's good at that." Faith nodded, arching her eyebrow in agreement as she admired Buffy's appearance. Thankful that Buffy couldn't detect her arousal, this time.

"No cane?" she asked.

"I think I can get by without it, today. Besides, these boots offer almost as much support as my leg brace did."

"This ought to be a good day for the male help," she said. Buffy grinned back at her, and nodded.

The vampires had arrived in Sunnydale around 4 a.m. One team had set up surveillance on the subject immediately, placing several cameras and laser mikes in positions to allow them to observe every room in the subject's residence. The rest of the vampires had set up HQ in a secure location deep beneath the city.

The vampires on surveillance duty were in the back of a small RV parked one street over from the subject's residence. The watched safely from its lightproof interior as the target admitted a young dark-haired man into his home, and listened to the sounds transmitted by the laser mikes to the receivers located in the RV.

"Good morning, Xander," said the target to the young man, as he opened the door. "I rather expected to see you here, sooner or later. What's on your mind?"

"Hey, G-man," Xander greeted his old friend, the closest thing to a father he had ever really known. He walked into the familiar confines of Giles' old apartment, or 'flat' as he referred to it, and sat down on the couch. Giles retrieved his tea set from the counter and poured a cup for Xander before settling back into his chair and picking up his own cup.

"So," he began, since Xander had not said anything. "You want to talk about Faith."

"Yeah," Xander sighed, his shoulders slumping. "I don't understand what's going on, and I don't really understand why I'm having such a problem with it. I mean, she didn't really hurt me that bad the first time around, and I barely interacted with her the second time. And she did her time, and hasn't been in trouble since she got out. So, why do I get so angry every time Buffy brings her up? Why do I distrust her so much? Why can't I give her a chance? Lord knows I've hurt Buffy enough, at one time or another, and she's always forgiven me. Why can't I forgive Faith?"

"Are you still attracted to her?" Giles asked, and Xander looked at him in surprise. Giles simply looked back at him blandly.

"Of course," Xander replied after a moment. "How could I not be? She's more beautiful than ever, and last time I checked I was still a man, so, yeah, I'm still attracted to her. But that doesn't mean I like her, or want her on the team."

"But you've already said that you don't understand why you feel this hostility for her. I think perhaps, subconsciously, you still wish for some kind of relationship with her. I don’t wish to hurt your feelings, but you've always tried to make some sort of connection with the girl, which is only natural considering, uh, some of the experiences you've shared together." Giles cleared his throat in embarrassment and moved on. "Perhaps the fact that she has, unknowingly perhaps, spurned all your attempts to demonstrate said connection is the source of this hostility." Giles looked at the young man, expectantly.

"Huh?"

Giles gave an exasperated sigh. "She's hurt your feelings and insulted your pride by showing that you meant nothing to her, and the angry little boy inside you hasn't forgiven her yet," he said, explaining.

"Oh," Xander said, "why didn't you just say so." After a moment, of thought he looked at Giles with an injured expression. "Hey!"

"You know it's true. I'm not trying to insult you, Xander, after all you did come to me for help. I just think you should honestly consider the source of your hostility. If that isn't it, tell me what is. After all, you warmed up to Faith immediately, the first time. To the point where Cordelia had to reign you in, several times, as I recall. And you share, uh, similarly traumatic family histories, so you can probably empathize with her better than most. She simply wasn't ready to open up to us, last time. This time she is, and I think you should give her the chance."

"I know," Xander said, "and I intend to. I promised Buffy, after all. I WANT to forgive, her, and maybe you're right. I'll have to work on it."

"You had better," Giles warned. "Buffy needs this, and if your hostility drives her away I will be very cross."

"Okay, but that's another thing I don't understand. Why is this such a big deal to Buffy? I mean, yeah, I sure as hell don't plan on arguing against the value of two Slayers. Far from it. But we've been doing okay, and our whole system is designed to continue without the Slayer, if necessary. It's not like Buffy being out of action for a week is the potential disaster it was a few years ago."

"I don't think this has anything to do with getting another Slayer. I think Buffy needed Faith," Giles replied. "She had a connection with Faith, unlike anything she ever had with any of us. Even Angel, and Riley."

"What, like sexual?" Xander asked in surprise.

"I didn’t say that!" Giles said sharply. "Although there might be some of that, as well. If that is the case, I trust you will hold your tongue! But I meant emotional, and spiritual. Buffy and Faith always had an incredible synchronicity when they fought together, like two halves of the same whole. But events, and probably our own actions, to some degree, spun that out of balance. Buffy has not felt a connection like that with anyone for some time, and she needs it. I will do anything to help her meet that need, and so will you. Won't you?"

"Yeah," Xander said with a sigh. "I can't argue that she looked happier last night than she had in a while. It felt good to see her like that, like the old Buffy. If Faith is what brings it out, I can definitely stand to have her around."

"So I thought we'd start on the fifth floor, and work our way down. You can see the sixth floor tonight, when you have dinner with Will. She lives there."

"What about the rest of the gang?" Faith asked.

"Well, they all have apartments up there, but Giles prefers to stay in his old place unless there's an impending apocalypse. Xander stays here most of the time, when he's in Sunnydale, but he has an apartment in town, also. He says he doesn't like to bring his conquests here, it makes them too hard to get rid of later." Buffy grinned, and Faith wondered anew at some of the changes the Scooby Gang had gone through. Casual sex in reference to her friends would have shocked the old Buffy, and Xander had been an attractive, but geeky, nobody when she had last known them. Now it sounded like he was getting all kinds of action. And Buffy found it amusing.

The elevator doors opened to reveal a hallway much like she had seen on the fourth floor, yesterday. The furnishings weren't quite as luxurious as those below, but they showed the same taste and style, which reminded Faith of a question she had forgotten to ask yesterday. "Who did the décor, B? Giles?"

"Yeah," Buffy answered, surprised. "Why?"

"Just curious."

Buffy led her down a hallway, and stopped before a set of large double doors. "This is my training room. There are others, on the third floor, for the field teams, but this is where I work out, and give special training to the field team leaders, and stuff like that. Xander said, when he built it, that if I worked out with the troops all the time, they'd spend all their time watching me and never work out themselves." She smirked at Faith. "I'm not sure exactly what he meant by that, but I like having my own gym."

She pushed open the doors and led Faith inside. Faith, after seeing what she already had of the facilities, had been prepared for a small, well equipped gym. She was surprised again, therefore, to find herself in a large, open room with enough space to train an Olympic team. The floor was wall-to-wall padded training mats, like she had seen in the martial-arts studio downstairs, but there was also a maze-like obstacle course like something from American Gladiators. Training weapons lined one wall, and another held a large collection of swords. Rings, a pommel horse, and all the things she would imagine you would find in a fully equipped gymnastics studio were present as well.

"This is really something, B," she said quietly.

"Thanks. I'll tell Xander you like it."

"Xander built this?" Faith asked in surprise.

"Xander's company built the whole building. He and Giles designed the training areas. And Riley," she finished quietly.

"Well, they did a hell of a job," Faith said, trying to keep Buffy from dwelling on painful memories.

"Yes, they did," Buffy said with a sad smile. Then she shook herself, moving away from the gloom that threatened to encompass her. "If you're up to it, maybe we could spar, later."

"I don't know that I'd be much challenge, right now, but I'm game," Faith replied with a grin, as they walked back out into the hallway. Buffy led her further down the hallway, to the next door. Opening it, she gestured Faith ahead of her.

Faith walked into the room, and stopped in shock. "What do you do in here, launch Space Shuttles?" she asked. Buffy laughed.

Before them was a room that would have looked right at home in the Houston Space Center, from what Faith had seen in the movies. The stood inside a small, glass-walled observation room that looked out into a larger room that was filled with people working quietly and efficiently at various tasks. The walls were lined with large display screens showing maps of the country, and several major cities. She noticed large red dots in various cities, amber dots in others, and a few green dots.

"This is our Computer & Communications center. These people manage the communications from all of our field teams. The red dots are where we have vamp activity that we haven't been able to pin down to a nest, the amber dots are where we have field teams preparing for a strike, and the green dots are cities that are, for the moment, clean."

Faith took in the view, beginning to realize that no matter what she had thought, she had no comprehension of just how vast Buffy's activities had grown. Buffy gave her another minute to absorb the view, then led her out. "C'mon, they get nervous when they know I'm watching them."

Back in the hallway, she explained to Faith. "I know a few of them, but I deal mostly with the field commanders, not the support teams. These people all work for Willow, really. But they think of me as the commander-in-chief, which I'm not really comfortable with, but Xander says if I try to put them at ease, it hurts morale. So I do it his way." She led Faith back the way they had come, past the elevator down the other hallway. "Most of the rest of this floor is storage, for various dangerous artifacts we have acquired over the years, like Acathla's statue. I can't even get into most of those rooms without Giles or Willow, and it's pretty boring, anyway. Kind of like a museum for things that can destroy the world. If you want to see it sometime, ask Willow. She loves to show it off, but personally, I find it a bit dull."

She led Faith to another door, and said, "However, there is one person you should meet. He's a little odd, so take him with a grain of salt." With that, she pushed open the door and led Faith into what appeared to be a machine shop. A large man was working at one of the benches scattered around the room, and he looked up with a pleased smile as they walked in.

"Buffy," he greeted the blonde Slayer. "Nice to see you walking around. Feeling better?"

"Yeah, the doc says I can go back on duty Monday," Buffy said.

"Good," he replied. Without warning, he hurled a weighted length of chain at the small blonde. Buffy spun to the side, dodging easily, and looked up to see that Faith had pinned the large man to the bench with her left hand, and her right was pulled back for a stiff-fingered throat strike.

"Faith!" she cried out. The dark haired Slayer did not respond, for a moment. Buffy noticed she had a fixed expression on her face, and she walked over and gently pulled the dark Slayer off of the larger man.

"It's okay," she said soothingly. "This is Bear, he's a friend of mine. He does that kind of stuff all the time."

Faith still had a frozen look on her face, then she shook herself, seeming to become aware of her surroundings again. "Some friend," she said.

Bear pulled himself upright, and said, "A Slayer must never let her guard down, especially when she's injured. I try to keep Buffy on her toes." He rubbed his throat for a moment, and looked at Faith appraisingly. "You've got good reflexes, girl." He turned to Buffy. "I like her."

Buffy laughed, and introduced the pair. "Faith, this is Bear. He is our weapons wizard. He comes up with all of our best toys, and he designed my equipment personally. If you ever need something special, come to Bear. You won't believe some of the things he's come up with." She turned to Bear. "Bear, this is Faith, my fellow Slayer. She's going to be staying with me, and joining the team, eventually. Be nice to her, she's not as easygoing as I am." Faith shot her a look, and Buffy laughed. "Well, you aren't," she said. Faith shrugged, and took a moment to look at Bear appraisingly.

She saw a large man, not overly tall, but very thickly built. His shoulders were twice the width of most men, and he was thickly muscled. He was also very hairy, with a full beard and long, dark brown hair swept back in a ponytail that ran almost to his waist. She noticed that his hands and forearms were covered with small burn scars. He also, she noticed, had beautiful, liquid brown puppy-dog eyes, that looked strangely soft in such a large man.

"So, you would be the infamous Faith," he said, with no trace of antagonism. "I understand you like knives."

Faith looked at him warily, wondering exactly what he had heard, but he gave no sign of noticing and turned to pull open a drawer. He removed a large, flat wooden box from inside and set it on the counter. "I have something for you," he said.

"For me?" she asked in surprise. She shot a look at Buffy, who nodded back at the table.

"Yeah," Bear said. "I made these as a matched set, for when you came back. Or, no offense, the next one came along." He opened the box, and stepped back, gesturing Faith to move closer.

She did so, and froze when she saw inside. The box was padded and velvet lined, and inside rested one of the most beautifully crafted blades she had ever seen. It was double edged, and dark wood inlays ran up both sides of the blade. She picked it up reverently. It fit her hand like it was made for her, and she looked at the big man in wonder.

"I've never seen anything like it," she said softly.

"I should hope not. There's only one other just like that, and I gave it to her." He pointed at Buffy. "The blade is titanium, plated with silver. The wooden inlays make it effective against vampires, as well. Much more elegant than a stake, if you ask me." He shot a look at Buffy, who stuck her tongue out at him, and then grinned.

"I can't take this," Faith said. "I wouldn't be able to use it, anyway."

"It's yours, and I won't hear any arguments. Whether or not you use it is up to you, but it's yours." He shot a puzzled glance at Buffy, who shook her head, warning him not to pursue the subject.

He reached into the box and pulled out the sheath for the knife, and handed it to Faith. She looked at him, then slid the knife into the sheath. She placed the sheathed dagger back in the box, then turned and walked from the room. Bear looked at Buffy.

"It's a long story. Just have it sent up to my place."

He nodded, and Buffy walked out after Faith.

Stepping out, Buffy said, "You've already seen the library, that's what we call the boardroom where we were yesterday. This floor also holds my office, which is down that way," she gestured, "along with offices for the rest of the board members. Not much to see, unless you like desks, so we'll skip them for now. But there is someone on this floor that I want you to meet."

She led Faith down a hallway away from her office, stopping before another unmarked set of double doors. She smiled at Faith, and Faith managed to smile back, although she was still a little shaken by the events upstairs. But she put them out of her mind and followed Buffy into a small room with couches against the wall, a small television in one corner, and another set of double doors, with a green light glowing above them.

"If this light is red, wait out here until it turns green before you come in," she said. Faith nodded, and Buffy pushed through the doors.

Inside was another large workroom, although this one was obviously dedicated to magic, not science. Racks of herbs lined the walls, and a large open space had a pentacle laid into the floor. Various chemical instruments burbled away on countertops, often sitting next to small cauldrons over unlit Bunsen burners. There didn't appear to be much going on at the moment, but a small group of women and a few men sat around a large conference table in one corner, obviously in the midst of a heated discussion. Faith spotted Willow sitting at one end of the table, watching with an amused smile. Faith was somewhat surprised with the easy dominance Willow demonstrated over the group. She held up her hand when she noticed Faith and Buffy watching them from just inside the door, and they all fell silent immediately. Willow didn't even look, she leapt up and hurried over to them immediately, with a big smile.

"Faith! Buffy! You girls look amazing!" she greeted them, giving them both hugs. Faith was surprised but didn't hesitate, and returned the hug gratefully. She didn't know why the redhead was so eager to be friendly to her, this time around, but she wasn't going to complain.

"Thanks, Will. Willis, again," Buffy said with a smile, and Willow nodded in understanding.

"He still reading your magazines on the sly?" she asked, with a knowing grin.

"He must be, or we should start one of our own and make him editor," Buffy replied with a laugh. Seeing Faith's puzzled look, she explained her own suspicions regarding Willis's reading habits.

"Come on over and meet the gang," Willow said to Faith, after Buffy finished her story. "They're all dying to meet you."

Faith followed Willow and Buffy over to the table, and Willow began introductions. "This is Amy," Willow said, and the pretty blonde girl seated at the other end of the table nodded at Faith, with a friendly yet wary look in her eye. Faith nodded back.

"She's the head of our magical support team. Meaning that she rides herd on this group of rugged individualists when I'm in the field. And this is Lisa, her assistant," another blonde, older, also pretty in a motherly sort of way. "And this is Michael, who is normally a field operative but is on the disabled list, at the moment." A nondescript dark haired young man, with his left arm in a cast. Willow continued the introductions, but Faith promptly forgot the rest of the names. They all smiled at her in a friendly way, and she suspected that they didn't know much of her history with the Sunnydale Slayerettes. She didn't intend to fill them in on all the sordid details.

"So, are we still on for dinner?" Willow asked after the introductions were complete.

"Sure, unless you need to…." Faith began hesitantly, offering the red-haired witch an out, if she wanted it.

"No, no, I already have all the groceries. You don't mind trying my cooking, do you?" Willow asked.

"Looking forward to it, Red," Faith replied with a relieved grin.

The third floor also housed the main armory, and Faith saw a large array of modern firearms and other weaponry, in addition to the swords and crossbows and things she expected. She also saw a large number of things she couldn't identify, but decided she could wait to learn about them. While she had loved the beautiful dagger that Bear had shown her upstairs, these days weapons in general gave her a mild sense of panic. They were uncomfortable reminders of her past. Buffy told her there were also small weapons lockers on every floor, located behind the mirrors in the hallway. If she ever needed a weapon, Buffy told her, just pull on a mirror.

There was also a containment facility for vamps and other beasties, although Buffy told her it was usually empty. They only employed it when they found something or someone unusual but harmless, or needed to keep some creature alive for study or some other reason. Buffy explained that the Initiative, a government group that Riley had once belonged to, had taught them a lesson about trying to study or experiment on demons.

The second floor held apartments for the field teams, as well as several furnished for visitors and guests. The first floor held the service entrances for the shops she had seen, as well as another bank of elevators, located opposite the private one Buffy had been using. Buffy had explained that the elevator that they were using was the only one that went to the sixth floor and roof, and that everybody else used one of the other four elevators.

There was also a basement, which contained a parking garage, a heavy weapons firing range, and the Hellmouth. They had built a special room around it, heavily sealed and warded inside and out. Buffy told her that the walls were lined with weapons and sensors, both magical and electronic, in case anything ever tried to come out unannounced.

"So," Faith asked, as they boarded the elevator again, after finishing the tour in the basement, "what exactly does Xander do, besides build stuff? And what about Giles?"

"Xander is head of field operations. He handles the day-to-day management of all the teams, and leads most of the major strikes that I don't. He travels even more than I do, so we don't get to spend as much time together as we'd all like, but we all keep in contact by phone and computer every day. Especially in the field. Everybody's in town this weekend, but he'll probably be flying out Monday for another strike. And I will be, too, if I get back on active duty and no other crisis comes up.

Giles is head of Research, as well as chief of intelligence. Owning a magic store helped him build back up contacts to replace the ones he lost when we quit the council. He is working from home today, like he usually does on Fridays when nothing major is happening, although he usually stops by later in the day." Buffy stopped and looked around, even though they were alone in the elevator, heading back upstairs.

"He also," she continued quietly, "supervises our search and recruitment for potential Slayers."

"What?" Faith said in surprise. "What about the Watcher's council?"

"Well," Buffy answered, "our own, uh, mutual experiences with them showed us that they were pretty out of touch with things out here in the big bad real world. They have become too rigid, too locked into the history and tradition to deal with changing times and circumstances. When we started getting really big, we tried to get them to come on board, to join with us. They refused, and we realized that we couldn't really trust them to cooperate with us in the future, either. So we staged a commando raid on council headquarters, with stun guns, and seized all their files and records. They're pretty much out of business, these days, although quite a number of younger Watchers and trainees enlisted with us, later."

"Wow. You really are planning ahead, these days," Faith said. Buffy looked at her seriously.

"We have to," she said. "Big things are coming. Giles says that a large percentage of the major prophecies on record have already been fulfilled. He also pointed out that I have faced more major apocalypse prophecies in the last few years than any other slayer ever has in her lifetime. He thinks we are in the Last Days, the beginning of a new era."

"What do you mean by that? What kind of era?"

"No one knows," Buffy said. The elevator arrived at the penthouse, and she continued as they walked inside. "Giles says that a large number of seers and prophets, whose coming has been foretold, have been born over the last few years. We don't really know what it means, or what's going to happen, but he thinks some kind of war is ahead, and probably a new age of prophecy. What form the war will take, or how the prophets will interact and change the world, is the topic of many of our late night weekend discussions."

Faith stood looking at herself in the mirror, tugging at the dress unconsciously. She had never really worn anything like it, unless you counted the time she had tried on the one the mayor bought her. This one was a deep blue silk, and while she knew it showed off her figure, it was much more modest and elegant than anything she had ever worn before. She suspected it had cost more than her entire previous wardrobe. Willis had picked it out for her.

She had spent the remainder of the day hanging out with Buffy, mostly in the fifth floor training room. Buffy had walked her through the obstacle course, and she had made Faith do several timed runs. Faith had known she was still in good shape. She hadn't quit exercising, just Slaying. But she was surprised at how excited Buffy had been about her times, until Buffy told her that they were better than her own early times had been. She had been pleasantly gratified by that.

She had come back upstairs to shower and change for her dinner with Willow, and she had been trying to get her nerve up to go downstairs for the last ten minutes. The red-haired witch had told her she would be waiting in the sixth floor lobby at six. Faith had about ten more minutes to kill, but she decided to go down early before she chickened out.

She stepped off the elevator on the sixth floor, and looked around. This lobby was decorated differently than the others she'd seen. This one was more like a living room in someone's house. If that someone were very wealthy and owned every piece of home theater equipment that money could buy. She guessed that the Scooby gang watched movies together here.

Willow was not in sight, but she noticed an open doorway down the hall. As she walked toward it, she heard the redhead's voice calling out from inside. "Faith! C'mon in!"

"You're early," Willow said, as Faith walked through the door. She was standing in the doorway to what appeared to be the kitchen, holding a drink out to Faith. "You look beautiful," she said as Faith walked toward her, and her gaze was openly admiring. Faith suddenly remembered that Willow had been 'playing the other side of the field' during their last encounter, and wondered if the redhead was coming on to her. She was half-hoping that she was, because God knew she could use the release.

"Thanks," she said, taking the glass and sipping. Jack and Coke, her old favorite. Much better mixed than the one Xander had made the night before, she noted.

Willow nodded, and said, "I knew you would look good in blue. Are you happy with the rest of your wardrobe? I did my best, but now that you're here, you can shop for yourself downstairs if you want something different. Or we could hit the mall tomorrow."

"You picked out my wardrobe?" Faith asked in surprise.

"Uh-huh," Willow nodded. "I hacked into the prison records for your last sizes, and shopped for you while Buffy was flying up to get you. Is it okay?"

"It's wonderful. I don't think I'll ever find time to wear it all, but I'll never lack for a choice, that's for sure. Thanks, Red," Faith said with a genuine smile. And meant it. It was one of the nicest things anyone had ever done for her.

"It was my pleasure," Willow replied with a bright smile. "Now, dinner won't be ready for about a half an hour," she gestured to the stove, and Faith suddenly noticed that the utensils and ingredients laid out appeared to be preparing and cooking themselves, and she turned back to stare at Willow, who winked at her. Faith closed her mouth with an audible snap. "So I had some things I wanted to talk to you about, before we eat."

Faith turned to look at the animated cooking utensils flying around the counter again, then looked back at Willow warily, and nodded.

"Good. You see," Willow began, "I wanted to apologize."

"No, Willow, you don't have to-"

"Yes, I do," Willow said, unknowingly echoing Buffy's words from yesterday. "So let me finish, please."

"Okay," Faith said, surrendering. She sat back and waited.

"You have to understand, Buffy was my first close girl friend," Willow began. "I had been best friends with Xander and Jesse since I was a little girl, but they were boys. I had known other girls in school, but we didn't really hang out or anything. I never had a girl I could, like, tell my secrets to, and ask for advice. Y'know?" she asked, arching an eyebrow at Faith enquiringly. Faith nodded back.

"So, when Buffy showed up and wanted to get to know me, chose me, it was all kind of new, you know? Suddenly I had someone I could talk about all the embarrassing things that girls like to talk about with, and it was a heady experience, let me tell you. I worshipped Buffy. Not because she was the Slayer, you understand, but because she was cool, and wanted to be friends with me.

So she became my best friend, ever. I told her my secrets, she told me hers, and she started pulling me out of the shell I had crawled into. I even started dating a musician!" she laughed, and Faith couldn't help but chuckle as well, remembering Oz. "Then, she ran away. I understand why she needed to, now, but it was a bad time back then. Not only did she leave us all worrying about whether or not she was okay, the vampire activity didn't slack off that summer like it had the year before. And I was dating, which was new and VERY scary territory for me, and Buffy wasn't there to help. It was hard." She looked steadily at Faith. "Like I said, I understand why she needed to do it, now, but I didn't back then.

And then she came back. We were happy, of course, but there were some initial bumps and lingering resentments to smooth over. But it passed, and I got to talk to her about all the personal things that had been bothering me, and we picked up right where we had left off. I was even more grateful than ever, in fact, because I had REALLY missed her. And then you came along.

I liked you just fine, at first. Hell, any new Slayer was welcome reinforcement. But you intimidated the hell out of me. You were beautiful, and confident, and openly sexual. All the things I wasn't. It didn't bother me, at first, because Buffy didn't exactly warm up to you." She shot an apologetic look at Faith, who was trying not to squirm in embarrassment. "But later you guys got real close, and I started to get jealous. Now, understand, I am not trying to excuse my actions, just explain them. Okay?" She looked at Faith, who nodded. "I didn't really understand that friendship is not a finite thing. I thought that you and Buffy's closeness took away from what we had. I felt excluded. Then you slept with Xander, who I had already had emotionally unbalanced relations with at the time, not to mention a lifelong crush, and sent me off the deep end. I became very bitter, and I did pretty near every thing I could to poison your friendship with Buffy." She took a deep breath.

"I am deeply sorry, and I hope that you can forgive me," she finished. She couldn't meet Faith's eyes.

After a moment, Faith said, "You know, I'm getting a little tired of people apologizing to me." Willow looked up, hurt, but relaxed when she saw the amused smile on Faith's face. "I had all these nice apologetic speeches worked out in my head, and you guys just jump in and apologize to ME, upsetting all my plans. What the hell am I supposed to say now?" she asked rhetorically, then continued. "I forgive you, Willow, and I understand all too well where you're coming from. My own mistakes and motivations were strikingly similar. But I do thank you for the apology, because it makes me feel better. So let's just forget all that junk in the past and start over, okay? I liked you when I first met you, and I like you even better this time around. I don't think you need to worry about your beauty, confidence, or sexuality anymore."

Willow laughed. "Well, I like to think I've grown up a bit. These days, everyone calls me the office slut, behind my back."

"What?" Faith asked in surprise.

"Well, let's just say I've learned to appreciate sex. And love, but I've learned you can have either one with or without the other and it's still good. These days, I have an on-and-off thing with Xander, whom I love but have no particular urge to commit to. I also know the pleasures that only another woman can provide, and have a few not-too-secret open relationships with a some female acquaintances around the country. Not to mention the occasional one night stand." She laughed at Faith's shocked expression.

"Oh, come on!" she said. "You were the one that introduced us all to the 'get some, get gone' concept. I wouldn't say I was that cavalier about it, but I've definitely learned that a filled bed is much better than an empty one."

"Way to go, Red!" Faith said finally, once she had regained the power of speech. The old gang had definitely grown up a bit. "You know, it's funny. You guys have all gotten casual about sex, and I've been celibate for five years."

"What!?" Willow said, surprised. "I mean, I wasn't going to ask about prison, unless you brought it up, but you've been out for two years, surely you must have—"

"Nope."

"Huh," Willow said. "Well, I'm certainly not criticizing, but why not? If you don't mind me asking."

Conversation paused as Willow held up her hand, and loaded plates came wafting over to serve themselves to Faith and Willow. They settled in and began eating, and Willow looked at Faith. "Well?" she asked. "If you want me to mind my own business, just say so, but don't leave me hanging. Please."

Faith swallowed, and considered her answer. "While I was being B, I, uh, slept with Riley." Faith blushed but continued. "I was just looking for a good time, because I was intending to skip town in the morning. But it was different than I expected. I went over there and threw myself at him, just like I was used to. But he wouldn't let it be casual. He was gentle, and tender, and caring. I had never been with anyone like that." She took a deep breath. "And then, he told me he loved me. Actually, he thought he was saying it to Buffy, but it was me. And it kind of freaked me out. Nobody had ever been like that with me, and nobody had EVER said anything to me like that. I could tell that he meant it, y'know? He wasn't just saying it to get something from me. And it made everything I had done before seem kind of empty. I realized that there was this huge cavern inside me that I hadn't even known I was trying to fill, and I was trying the wrong way. I haven't been with anyone since then. I, uh, realized that there was someone that I cared about, and I wanted to be with them. Anyone else would have just been a sad substitute."

They ate in silence for a few minutes. Willow was studying Faith intently. She was pretty sure she knew who Faith was talking about. She wasn't blind, she had seen how Faith had acted around Buffy, and having been there herself made her keenly aware that both Buffy and Faith were in deep denial. She considered what to say, and whether it was her place to say anything. But Buffy was her best friend, and her happiness was very important to the red-haired witch. So she looked at Faith until she caught her eye, and began to speak.

"There's something you should know," she said. "I'm only telling you this so it doesn't catch you by surprise, later. It's not really a secret, but we don't talk about it, much." She took a deep breath, and then continued. "Buffy has been very…unhappy since Riley died. And lonely. They hadn't been a couple for a while, but she hadn't really moved on to anyone else, either. After he was killed, she was very depressed. She didn't let it affect the Slaying, but she was…withdrawn, around here. She didn't socialize, even with us. Now, this is not criticism." She looked at Faith steadily, to make sure she was understood, then continued. "What we do here is very stressful, and we all deal with it in our own ways. I'm sure you've noticed some of the changes. But this was different. Buffy started going out, wherever she was, and hitting the local singles bars. Picking up men. Letting them-" she stopped, took a deep breath, and continued. "Letting them use her. Now, like I said, I have nothing against a one night stand. They can be fun, and sometimes you need that kind of freedom. But for a while, Buffy was going out every free night she had. Getting drunk, coming home, or going home, with whatever random guy happened into her line of sight at the right time."

Willow sighed, and looked at Faith to make sure that Faith was following the story. Faith looked back at her with sad understanding in her eyes. "She wasn't any happier than she had been, but she didn't want to talk about it with any of us, and we didn't know what to do. I still don't know. It's gotten better, she doesn't do it as often, but, well, she hasn't really been any happier, either. We've all been worried.

Yesterday, when she came back with you, she smiled more than she has in the last month. It made us all feel good to see her like that. That alone gives me all the reason I need to apologize to you, and hope that you will stay around here with us. Hopefully, we will maybe be able to help you, as well. But I warn you right now. If you hurt her, I will destroy you. I will rip your soul from your still living body and cast it into a place of eternal darkness and torment. You will never die, and you will never find peace. Just so you know." She smiled at Faith. "A vague disclaimer is nobody's friend."

Faith stared at the redhead in shock, surprised to feel…apprehension? This was not the meek little nerd she had known. This wasn't even the ballsy wicca-wannabe who had confronted her in the Mayor's office. This was a full-blown, bad-ass witch who she was suddenly quite sure could follow through on that threat. She swallowed, and then smiled when she realized just how much she liked this young woman. "I understand," she said.

"Good," Willow said with an answering smile, and dusted off her hands like she had just finished an unpleasant chore. "So, how's the fish? I'm experimenting with some new spices…."

Rupert Giles hummed softly to himself as he walked home. He didn't normally venture out after dark on foot, this was still Sunnydale no matter how many patrols they ran, but it was still early, and his grocer was right down the street. He had been reading prophecy in his apartment all day, and had suddenly felt an urgent need to stretch his legs. So, a visit to the grocer. That way, he wasn't wasting time, he was accomplishing a necessary and productive task. The fact that it also let him take an evening stroll was an unavoidable by-product, not an indulgence.

He smiled to himself, knowing that his mind would continue to make excuses if he let it. He had played the 'stuffy librarian' role for so long that he was unable to stop, even with himself. He decided that tomorrow night, he would go out and sing a few songs. It had been a few weeks, and he felt himself getting stodgy again. Besides, he had to admit that he liked the way Willow looked when she listened to him sing. It made him feel young, again.

He sighed, his smile forgotten, as he considered that last thought. It wasn't as if he were decrepit. It was just that he was surrounded by people who were twenty-years his junior. They were his friends, his family, even, but nonetheless they could make him feel incredibly old, some days. They all had lives, eccentric though they were. All he had was his work, and them. He often wondered exactly when that had happened.

He was definitely going to have to get a gig for tomorrow night. He was getting positively maudlin. Maybe there would be a pretty young thing in the audience. He had been propositioned more than a few times, after one of his performances, but his sense of propriety and responsibility had always caused him to turn them down. Maybe that was his problem. Nothing like a good shag to make you feel young, recharge the batteries.

He was a block away from his flat when a rustle in the foliage behind him caused him to snap out of his wandering thoughts. He gave no sign of his awareness, but his instincts were telling him that he was being hunted. He casually slipped the cross that he never went without these days out of the waistband of his trousers, and into his left hand, which was carrying the groceries. His right hand then slipped into his pocket, pressing a well-remembered sequence of buttons on his cell phone.

His call for help sent, Giles considered how best to survive until backup arrived. He didn't know who was out there, or how many there were. He seriously doubted they would let him make it to his apartment unmolested. His doubts were confirmed a moment later as a vampire stepped out of the darkness ahead of him.

Without hesitation, Giles turned and threw his bag of groceries at the vampire he knew had appeared behind him. It struck the charging vamp in the face, and it stumbled. Meanwhile, Giles turned back to the vamp ahead of him. In one smooth, well-practiced motion, he drew a small revolver from it's holster at his back. He took aim with a grace at odds with his fumbling public persona, and his first shot struck the surprised vamp in the middle of the forehead. The magnesium cored bullet ignited immediately, and the amused expression on the vamp's face, which had appeared at the sight of the gun, vanished as it's head burst into flame. Giles didn't wait, he was already running past as it collapsed into ashes.

He took five running steps, and then turned and dropped to one knee. The vampire he had thrown his groceries at was four steps behind him, and it tried to dodge as he brought the revolver up again. He fired two swift shots, the first catching the vamp in the stomach and the second in the heart. It was just a little too close, however, and it collided with him before bursting into flame and dusting, sending him sprawling through its ashes. He rolled along the ground, losing his cross in the process, and gasped as a pair of hands latched onto his biceps and pulled him to his feet. He was spun around to face his attacker, and hoisted into the air. Giles found himself looking down into the face of another vampire. This one was larger than his previous two foes, with a square jaw and brush-cut blonde hair. Giles thought he looked like a poster boy for the Third Reich. His Aryan features were distorted by his demon, at the moment. Giles tried to bring the pistol up, but the vampire increased the pressure on Giles' biceps, causing him to cry out in agony and drop the pistol.

The vampire smiled at Giles, his yellow eyes glinting cruelly. He began to pull Giles' arms in opposite directions. Giles quickly brought both his knees up to his chest, hanging from the vampire's grip. He planted both feet in the vamp's face, and it screamed as the crosses laid into the soles of Giles's shoes began to burn into it's face. Giles pushed off with both feet, pulling out of the distracted vamp's grasp and landing on his back on the sidewalk. He scrambled to his feet and, not seeing his pistol, took off towards his home. As he ran he listened to the wounded vampire screaming behind him.

"You'll die for this, you limey bastard!" it screamed. "I don't care what the Master says, I'll rip out your heart before I feast on your blood! You'll pay for this-" The screaming stopped suddenly, and Giles heard a muffled report behind him. Recognizing the sound of the submachine guns used by the emergency response teams, he slowed and waited for them.

"Sir, sir, are you all right?" asked the team leader, running up to him from the direction of his house. "We got your emergency code, and came as fast as we could. Are you injured? Here, sit down-"

"No, no thank you, I'm fine," Giles assured the earnest young man. "Although I must say your timing is excellent. Do a quick sweep, and see if you can locate my revolver, I dropped it back there somewhere. Send it to the office, if you find it. I am going home. Oh, and see if they can find my groceries, as well."

The senior of the two vamps picked up his cell phone and dialed. "Tell Lucius that we will need some reinforcements," he said.

Faith stepped back from the heavy bag, and wiped the sweat from her brow. She was in Buffy's training room, on the fourth floor. She had had an excellent dinner, thanks to Willow, and after the uncomfortable stuff was out of the way, the redhead had been an entertaining dinner companion. She had even been mildly flirtatious. Faith had enjoyed it immensely, and had gone back upstairs with a mild buzz on. Twenty minutes alone in Buffy's apartment, however, had sent her mind down paths she preferred to avoid, so she had changed clothes and decided to work off her buzz down here. She had been at it for an hour, and wondered if she should head back upstairs to find Buffy.

She spun around when she heard the door open, to see the blonde Slayer walk through the door wearing her own workout clothes. Faith greedily drank in the sight of the beautiful young woman in spandex and a sports bra, then swallowed and averted her eyes. "Hey, B," she greeted her host. "Your meeting run a little long?"

"Boy, did it ever," Buffy replied. "Seems like every time I'm out of it for a week, everybody decides that they need to review all of our standard operating procedures, and go over them with me when I get back to make sure I still want things done like that. Xander says it's normal, people just want to be reassured that I'm back on top of things, but sometimes it drives me up the wall. Part of the reason we set this place up the way we did, is so that when, uh, y'know, I die, there won't be a big period of confusion and reorganization. The idea is that the next Slayer will just pick up where I left off, although Giles or Xander and Willow will be guiding them. I hope."

"You're not planning on kicking the bucket any time soon, are ya, B?" Faith asked, half-seriously but with her old devil-may-care smirk on her face. Buffy had always been a little too tied up in the permanent retirement aspects of this job, but Faith didn't like the beaten expression in Buffy's eyes right now.

"Not today. But you never know."

"True. But then again, nobody ever does, as a rule. You could get hit by a truck walking across the parking lot, B. Just because we're Slayers is no reason do get all doom and gloom about how we die. Everybody dies. It's how you live that matters."

Buffy was looking at her strangely. "Didn't Mel Gibson say that in Braveheart?"

Faith looked at her. "Don't know, never saw it. Now, did you come down here to be depressed, or to blow off some steam? I don't know about you, but I must admit to being curious as to what new tricks you've learned in the past few years. You up for it?"

Buffy studied her for a few seconds, then tossed the towel she had carried down with her over a weight bench, and said, "You're on."

Faith was moving before Buffy finished talking, and her foot flashed out in a spinning back kick before the towel had landed. She knew she was rusty, but the old reflexes were coming back to her, and she didn't want Buffy to win too easily.

Buffy blocked the kick easily, using her left forearm, and Faith blocked her counterstrike. The two Slayers circled each other warily on the mat, slipping back into familiar patterns. Buffy had definitely picked up a few new moves, as well as apparently being both slightly stronger and faster than Faith. She fought with more edge than Faith remembered from the old days.

But Faith had learned a few tricks, too. She got in her own licks against the blonde Slayer, and she tried to avoid taking advantage of Buffy's weak leg, even though it didn't appear to be bothering her at the moment. After several minutes, both girls stepped back to catch their breaths.

"Leg okay?" Faith asked.

Buffy nodded, and then smiled and said, "Looks like you're not as rusty as you thought. Ready to go again?"

Faith nodded, and then ducked and rolled as Buffy sent a flying kick at her head. She countered with a leg sweep which brought Buffy down, but the blonde rolled easily away and back to her feet before Faith could take advantage. The fight continued, fast and furious, for several more minutes, until Buffy saw her opening. She feinted a left jab at Faith's chin, and slid in a right to Faith's ribs under her guard. She heard the breath whoosh out of the dark Slayer, and she slid in close, her left leg sliding between Faith's to hook behind her ankle and pull her feet out from under her. Faith began to topple backwards, but she reached out and wrapped her arms around Buffy as she fell, pulling the blonde Slayer with her. Their bodies slammed into the mat, Buffy on top of Faith, with Faith's arms around the blonde.

They both froze, breathing heavily, and Faith was achingly aware of the intimate contact of their skin. She was entranced by Buffy's beautiful green eyes staring down into hers. Her blood pounded through her veins, and for that moment, her entire universe was those two eyes. The only thing she could feel was the electric touch of Buffy's skin pressed against her own, and every breath she took seemed to sear into her like fire. She wanted to spend the rest of eternity like this.

Buffy's blood was boiling through her, as well. For the first time in longer than she could remember, her worries, her fears, her pain, were all gone. At this moment, she felt like she could do anything. The feel of Faith's skin beneath her was charging her up like a battery, and she half expected the lights in the room to short out in reaction. She could see the same fire burning in the dark Slayer's eyes, and for the first time Buffy thought perhaps it wasn't the fight that had evoked it. She stared into Faith's eyes, felt the intensity of her arms around her, and realized it was an embrace, not a hold. Not a grip, or a defensive posture. An embrace.

The furnace heat between them grew hotter than she could resist, and almost against her will, she began to lower her lips to meet Faith's. The other girl's lips parted slightly in expectation, and the fire in her eyes blazed anew.

"Buffy! Faith!" Both girls rolled away from each other instantly as the doors slammed open, and Willow charged into the room. "Oh! There you are!" Willow stopped suddenly, sensing the charged atmosphere in the room and seeing the two panting, sweat-slicked Slayers. She kicked herself as she realized what she had probably interrupted, and her train of thought was suddenly derailed. "Oh, uh…"

"What is it, Red?" Faith asked. "What's happened?"

"Oh!" Willow gasped, suddenly remembering why she had been searching for the Slayers. "Giles was attacked, outside his house!"

Both Slayers were instantly on their feet and standing before Willow. Buffy had a sick look of fear and pain on her face, but it was Faith who grasped Willow carefully by the elbows and said, "What happened? Is he okay!?"

"He's fine. He's at home. He killed a couple of vamps, and held off the rest until the nearest team got there. Luckily there was a sweeper team only three blocks away, on their way to Restfield Cemetery when his emergency signal went out." Willow paused for breath, and ran her fingers through her red hair before continuing. "Giles said that these vamps seemed pretty determined to get him, not like they were on a random prowl. He's called a meeting, said he'd be here in an hour."

Buffy nodded, but didn't look at Faith. "I need a shower," she said. "I'll see you in the Library, Will." Without another word to either young woman, the blonde Slayer walked out of the gym.

Willow looked at Faith to see the dark-haired girl looking after her fellow Slayer with a shuttered gaze, but Willow could see the confused pain in her eyes. Willow silently kicked herself again for not starting her search in Buffy's office. She could have come in just a few minutes later… She shook herself and considered what needed doing to salvage this situation. When Faith's eyes finally snapped back to awareness and she looked at Willow, the red haired witch looked back at her with amused curiosity and said, "Well?"

"Well, what?" Faith asked, wondering just what Willow knew.

Willow merely arched her eyebrow at Faith, and waited. After a moment Faith blushed and looked at the floor, which Willow found strangely endearing. Faith had definitely lowered her walls some since the old days. After a second she looked back up from the floor to meet Willow's expectant gaze, and shook her head.

"Damn," Willow said, stamping her foot. Then she shook her finger at Faith. "Don't give up. She let her guard down once, and she will again. Till then you just keep your eyes open." She smiled at the expression of shock on Faith's face. "What, do you think I'm blind or something? Now hurry up, you should probably change before you attend your first official Scooby meeting." With that, Willow turned and left the gym.

Faith stood in silence for a moment, trying to absorb everything that had happened in the last few minutes. Then she shook her head and thrust it into the back of her mind. She didn't have time right now. She'd deal with all this later, if she had to. Right now she needed a shower. Cold.

Faith checked her appearance in the mirror one more time. She knew she was being silly, but this was a big moment, sort of, and she was willing to admit, to herself at least, that she was nervous. They had all been polite and friendly to her so far, but she had sensed some wariness, from Xander at least, and she was pretty sure they hadn't envisioned her leaping into crisis meetings on her second day back. Willow had expected her to come, but Buffy hadn't said anything to her. She had heard the blonde slayer in the shower when she came into the apartment, but Buffy had been dressed and out of the bedroom by the time Faith emerged from her own cold shower. She had dressed in tight black jeans and a royal blue halter, slipping into her old defensive patterns automatically, but she had pulled her hair back into a pony-tail that J had told her made her look fifteen years old. She didn't want to be confrontational tonight, so she would go for cute and young. That ought to disarm Xander somewhat, if he had any problems with her.

She sighed, knowing that Xander wasn't really her problem. Her problem was the blonde slayer waiting for her in the living room, and whether or not Buffy expected her to come with her. Willow may have more or less invited her, but Buffy ran the show around here, just like always, and after what had…almost happened in the gym, Faith wasn't sure what was going through her head. So she sighed again, and reluctantly decided not to mention coming to the meeting unless Buffy said something. She squared her shoulders, and marched out into the living room.

Buffy was waiting for her on the couch, restlessly flipping channels on the television. She looked up as Faith walked into the room, an irritated look on her face. "C'mon, Faith, you're going to make us late."

Faith couldn't stop the relieved smile that burst across her face, and she said, "You want me to come with you?"

Buffy looked at her in surprise, her irritation forgotten. "Of course I do," she said. "You're part of the team now, even if we haven't quite figured out in what capacity. Unless you don't want to come?"

"No, no," Faith answered quickly. "I just-" She stopped and shook her head, and then looked at Buffy happily. "Well, get off the couch, lazybones. They'll be waiting on us."

Buffy laughed, and the two Slayers walked to the elevator.

He was seated in his usual chair, and she noted with some surprise that he wore jeans and a blue denim shirt. He looked damn good for a Watcher, she noted again. She was also surprised to see him working away industriously on a laptop computer, which was before him on the desk. He had several books on the table around him, as well, but she suspected they were there for comfort more than anything else. She walked over to him and saw that he appeared to be examining pictures of vampires, paging through dossier after dossier.

"How ya doin', G-man?" she asked concernedly as she neared him, laying her hand gently on his shoulder. She pulled it away immediately when he winced at the contact.

"Ahh," he said, and looked up at her. "Faith. Sorry, the beast dislocated my shoulder, apparently, and it's still very tender. Otherwise, I'm fine. However, I am a bit concerned."

He quickly relayed the details of the attack to the group, now that they were all here. The others settled around the table and listened quietly, greatly disturbed by what they heard. When Giles was done, they looked at one another quietly, and Faith rose to make a round of drinks as everyone else turned to their laptops.

Willow looked up with a smile as Faith handed her a beer, and Xander even managed to sound sincere when he thanked her. Faith sat back down in a chair next to Buffy as Willow looked up from her laptop at the group.

"Nothing. We have nothing to indicate who's behind this, what they wanted, nothing. There haven't even been rumors of anything big going down elsewhere in California, much less here in Sunnydale." She sighed in disappointment, and looked at Xander expectantly.

"Field teams haven't reported any upswings in local vamp activity, and there haven't been any unusual deaths lately, either. If we have new vamps in town, they brought lunch with them. That would indicate this is a carefully planned op by somebody from out of town. Nobody local these days has the organization or the balls to try something like this against us."

"No new masters in town?" Buffy asked.

"If there are," Willow answered grimly, "we haven’t heard a peep about it. And, like Xander said, they must be feeding out of town, because there haven't been any unusual deaths or disappearances reported lately. Nor has there been an upswing in the number of fledglings."

Faith sat quietly, listening to the group discuss the various possibilities and actions they could take to prepare. She marveled at how organized, and ruthlessly, they went about it. This wasn't the old carefree group she remembered. The humor was still there, occasionally, but the rambling, casual, almost accidental methods the group had once relied on were gone. They planned, they plotted, and they acted. Just another day. Faith discovered, somewhat to her surprise, that she liked it better like this. In the old days, the group had often been just a bit too careless, for her. It had mystified her, while she worked for the Mayor, how they had continued to come out on top. But this was more her style. Not boring, but focused. Do the job, and move on. She tuned back in as Buffy began to wrap up the meeting.

"Okay," said the blonde slayer, "here's what I want, for now. Giles, I assume you are going to insist on going back to your place?" Giles nodded, and Buffy continued, "Then I want a full team on site, watching the perimeter, and I want another one near by, on standby. I want increased sweeps through town, and shake down the local snitches about any activity in the sewers. That's always been our biggest blind spot."

She looked around at the others, seeing their understanding of her intentions. "I don't want to overreact, but after the dream I had about you last night, Giles, I'd really like you to keep your eyes open. They may be trying for any of us, not just Giles, so I'd like increased security here in the building, as well. They'd be fools to try anything, but we might be overestimating their intelligence, so let's be alert."

"Well," said Caine quietly, once Lucius had finished his report. "I suppose I should not be surprised. If it were going to be easy, this group would not be such trouble in the first place. Nonetheless, I think much stronger measures are in order. Have we heard from Natasha?"

Lucius swallowed the lump that immediately formed whenever HER name was mentioned. "Yes, sir. She is in Kazakhstan, but she received your summons and will be here sometime tomorrow. She is flying back on the plane you prepared for her. Her quarters and, uh, 'refreshments' are all prepared."

"Good, good," said Caine. He smiled evilly in anticipation. "Natasha will enjoy this one. It is right up her alley. Let me know when she arrives. Make sure to have a car waiting for her at the airport. That will be all, Lucius."

"Yes, sir."

Caine sat back in his plush leather chair as Lucius departed from his office, considering his favorite killer. Natasha was unlike other vampires. She had certain 'unique' qualities that he found especially endearing. Not the least of which was the fear her very name evoked in all of his other minions. She had been apart from him too long. It would be good to bring her back into the fold.

She picked up the remote and began flipping channels. Maybe she should just go talk to Buffy. Maybe she should take Buffy up on the offer of one of the apartments downstairs. But she really didn't want to. She liked being close to her. It let her imagine that someday, they might have the kind of relationship she wanted. She snorted to herself. That was the problem. She needed to be happy with what she had. If she kept pushing, she would probably drive Buffy away again.

Willow seemed to think there was a chance. That had kind of freaked Faith out. She had never figured on Red being her ally. Hell, she had never figured on Red being her 'friend,' let alone co-conspirator in seduction. If that's what it was. Willow seemed to think that Buffy might want her. She just wished she could believe it.

Faith shook herself out of her funk and got up to make a drink. She was a fool, she told herself. Giles had been attacked tonight, could have been killed, and all she could think of was how she had nearly kissed B. Five years of celibacy, and now her hormones were driving her insane. Must be some kind of Slayer thing.

She had never felt this way about another woman. Truth to be told, she had never felt this way about ANYONE. Not even Angel had awakened this kind of aching passion in her. It wasn't just lust, though. There was a connection, some kind of spiritual bond. She had known that, even in the old days. Back then, the physical responses had been buried in all of the other fucked up issues in her life. She had known that Faith affected her, but she had convinced herself it was a natural response to the fact that Faith had talked about sex all the time. But this time, she couldn't deny what she felt.

She wanted the dark-haired girl. She could try to convince herself that she loved her like a sister, or like she loved Willow. And she did. But she also LUSTED for her. It was an uncomfortable feeling. She had gotten used to the idea that sex was just a physical need, like eating. She accommodated that need as necessary. She wasn't some naïve high-school girl anymore, to believe that love conquers all and sex and love were inextricably linked. She knew better, and these days she tried to avoid combining the two. It hurt less, that way.

But Faith was different. She wanted…no, she NEEDED Faith in her life. Faith made her feel better than she had in a long time. She didn't really know why, it wasn't like she didn't have good friendships with Xander and Willow. But it was different with Faith. Faith seemed to make her smile, without even trying. Her mere presence made her happier than she had been since Riley died.

But she didn't know what to do about the lust. Faith had always, ALWAYS been very clear about her 'get some, get gone' attitude. Not to mention that she had been a guy magnet. She hadn't given Buffy any indication that she felt the same things that Buffy felt. And Buffy was determined not to drive Faith away, this time. Not to LET her get away. What if she did just that by trying to seduce her?

She cursed silently. She was never going to get to sleep. Just thinking about Faith was getting her all twisted up, among other things. She listened to the dark Slayer flipping channels, making sure she wasn't heading towards bed. The thin Japanese panels between the bedrooms wouldn't stop Slayer hearing, and Buffy would be mortified if Faith heard her.

She opened her bedside table, and pulled out her 'friend.' As she headed into the bathroom to try to relax enough to get some sleep, she reflected that whoever said 'diamonds are a girl's best friend' had probably been a man.

The next morning, Faith checked out her bike in the underground garage. Buffy had told her she had staff meetings in the morning, but since it was Saturday, Faith suspected she had used it as an excuse for some time alone. Faith didn't really mind, she had a lot of things to think about, and she wanted to look over the old 'Dale, anyway. Once she had ensured that no fumble-fingered cargo-handlers had damaged her bike, she climbed on board, pulled on her helmet with a grimace, (it's the law in California, and she tried to stay on the right side of the law, these days) and roared out of the garage. She flew past several people working on an assortment of vehicles on her way out, but she hadn't met them yet and wasn’t feeling particularly sociable right now. They stared after her in wonder, but she ignored them.

Once she was out on the streets, she drove around Sunnydale more or less at random. She thought about driving by her old apartment, but decided that was probably more bad associations than she could handle at the moment. She drove by Giles's apartment, taking notice of the black Suburban parked out front and the poorly camouflaged sentry on the roof. She thought about stopping, but realized that she didn't really know what to say to Giles just now. He had been friendly to her, and she liked him, but he wasn't who she really wanted to talk to.

She drove through the UC Sunnydale campus, wondering what it would have been like to have a normal life. Would she still have been herself if she had had normal parents? Would she have gone to high school, and college? Growing up in Southie, she had never even thought about college. When she had awakened from her coma, and gone after Buffy, she had been envious of her life. She had been jealous that Buffy had been able to pretend to have a normal life, with high school, and college, and friends. Her own Watcher had never even mentioned it. She had saved Faith from a slow death on the streets, only to introduce her to the possibility of a quick death fighting evil. Faith hadn't minded, then. Slaying had been the first thing that had ever made her feel good about herself. It had made her feel special. She had never felt special before.

It hadn't lasted, of course. When her Watcher had been killed, Faith had known she had screwed up again. It had seemed to her that the only real talent she had was screwing up. She had run, and eventually hit Sunnydale. Buffy had helped, had started to make her believe that she might be worth something after all. But her own insecurities had come back to haunt her, and she had screwed up again. Buffy thought it was her fault, but Faith knew that really wasn't true. Faith had been unwilling to admit her mistakes, something she had always had problems with, and had screwed up again.

This time, she wanted it to be different. She wasn't going to leave, no matter what. Willow had talked to her about the problems the group had had the first year of college, which had made her aware that even 'perfect' friendships had problems. She knew that sooner or later she would piss Buffy off, or Buffy would piss her off, but she wasn't going to leave. If and when it happened, they would work it out. Just like they would work out whatever was going on now. If she could get Buffy to talk to her. If she could get herself to talk to Buffy.

Eventually, she wound up in front of Westhaven cemetery. She had half-known she was coming here. She parked her bike, and wandered through the rows of headstones until she found one of the ones she was looking for.

"Hey, Mr. Finch," she said, squatting down next to the headstone. "I hope you don't mind me coming by. I know I really should have, before now, but I wasn't really ready. I am now." She took a deep breath, and continued. "I know it's kind of pointless, now, but I wanted to tell you I'm sorry. It was an accident. You were coming to us for help, and I killed you. I have to say, your choice of meeting places left a lot to be desired, man. I mean, here we were, going down a dark alley, getting attacked by vamps left and right. And then you come out of nowhere. Why didn't you call out, or something?"

She sighed. "I'm sorry. I'm trying to avoid the issue again. I shouldn't have been so quick off the trigger. Buffy tried to warn me, but control wasn't my strong point in those days. I hope I'm better at it now."

She looked at the plain marble tombstone, wondering who had chosen it for him. She hoped that when her time came, she had something a little more significant than the generic white marble job that Allen Finch had been stuck with. She ignored the tears rolling slowly down her cheeks and caressed the top of the headstone gently. "I hope you wound up someplace good. I suppose I could ask Willis, maybe he knows. Everybody sort of forgot about you once it turned out the Mayor was a bad guy, but I didn’t. I used you as an excuse. I told myself that since the only thing I had ever been really good at was hurting people, I might as well make a career of it. Basically I was trying to justify what I did to you."

She stood up, and wiped the tears from her face. "I hope you can forgive me. I tend to doubt it, and I wouldn't blame you, but I had to come ask."

She turned, and walked on, until she found the next one she was looking for. It was another plain white marble marker, that read simply 'Professor Lester Worth' and listed his birthday, and the date that Faith had killed him. She could still see the shocked expression on his face as she rammed the knife home, again and again. The tears were flowing again, and she closed her eyes, but that didn't make the image go away. She hadn't really known why the Boss had wanted him dead, and she hadn't cared. She had been so far around the bend at that point that she had been glad for anything to keep busy. It had seemed like anytime she had too much time to herself, all the things she had been doing had started coming back to her, and the little voice she had suppressed for so long would start screaming at her again.

"Hey, Lester," she said, sitting down on the grass and wiping her eyes. "I'm sure you remember me. I know it won't mean much, but I came by to tell you I'm sorry. If it makes you feel any better, you pretty much helped save the world, because when I killed you, it alerted Buffy and the gang and they used your stuff to figure out how to kill the Mayor. I wish I could say that that was why I did it the way I did, but the truth is I was just using you to express the rage that I couldn't deal with any other way. It wasn't personal, not that that's going to make you feel any better. But I'm sorry that I did it."

She sighed, and sat in silence for a while, contemplating. She wondered if she would ever be able to make up for the evil she had done. Not the big evil, like helping the Mayor. Strangely enough, that didn't really bother her. It was the little evils, like Lester and Allan, and the people she had robbed in LA, that really bothered her. They were personal. They were the people she had been called to protect, and she had killed them. Ordinary people.

Eventually she pulled out the cell phone that Buffy had given her, and called Julissa. It had been a couple of weeks since they talked last, and she knew that J would be worried about her when she heard she had quit her job. After a few moments, she heard one of her few true friends answer the phone.

"Hello?"

"J? It's me."

"Faith? Where are you? Bonnie called to tell me you quit working at the station. Are you all right?"

"I'm fine, relax. I'm, uh, back in Sunnydale." Faith couldn't suppress the smile that blossomed on her face as she said that. She knew what was coming next.

"Faith, honey, are you sure that's a good idea? I mean, I know you wanted to talk to her, but it's been two years, almost. If you stir it up now-"

"She came looking for me." She listened to the surprised silence that followed that tidbit of information, and tried not to gloat. Julissa had always been incredibly supportive of her, but she had formed a less than glowing image of Buffy, and Faith had been bitter enough at the time not to go out of her way to change it, much. She felt a little guilty about it, now, but she couldn't deny the fact that she relished having one friend that was HERS, not Buffy's first. It had been one of the things that had helped her come out of the dark, in prison. But she was past that.

"Are you okay?" Julissa asked after a moment. Faith could here the confused hesitancy in her voice, and decided that it was time to let her off the hook.

"She decided it was time for us to put the past behind us. She came to ask me to come back with her. She even apologized to me, for not being a better friend, before."

"Faith, that's great! Isn't it? I mean, from what you've told me, this is pretty much all you ever wanted, right?"

"Yeah," Faith said with a sigh.

"Okay, so what's wrong?"

"I don't know. Maybe I'm just freaking. I mean, I came back with her, and it's BETTER than a dream come true. She's got more money than I can believe, most of the old gang has been really accepting, even apologetic. She's been honest and supportive, and I guess that's part of the problem."

"Do you still have feelings for her?" Julissa asked quietly.

Faith hesitated, but then told herself that there wasn't much point in calling for help if you weren't going to talk about what you needed help with. "More than ever. And I guess that's part of why I'm freaking. I thought I'd be able to handle it, but I very nearly molested her last night, and she's been kind of distant ever since. One of her friends, who's been surprisingly supportive of me this time around, is even encouraging me. But I don't know what I'm doing. I mean, the longest relationship I ever had lasted three whole weeks. And the last two were miserable. That's not what I want."

"There's no rush, Faith. You've only been there two days. Give it a little time."

"That's what I keep telling myself," Faith responded bitterly. "But, there's this part of me that keeps saying it's not going to last. That I shouldn't get my hopes up because it's all too good to be true. Not to mention that the whole reason Buffy came looking for me was for help, and I can't do it. I told her, and she said she didn't care, but I can't believe that they need a useless former Slayer following them around."

"You're not a former Slayer. From what you've told me, you're a Slayer till you die."

"Maybe they should just bury me then."

"Knock that self-pity shit off. You know you're just being silly now. I know why you have problems with it, but you can do it if you want to. You have a lot more control than you give yourself credit for. That's one of the things that caught my attention when I first met you. If you would only believe in yourself a little bit, you could do damn near anything."

"But-"

"But nothing," Julissa cut her off. "Remember what you said when I suggested you take cooking classes?"

Faith sighed in defeat. "I said that I didn't know jack about kitchens, and didn't really care."

"And what did I tell you?"

Faith smiled at the memory. "You said that anybody who liked knives as much as I did ought to feel right at home in a kitchen."

"And did you learn to cook?"

"Okay, okay, point made. I guess I just needed a little reinforcement."

"That's what I'm here for, girlfriend. Do you want me to come and visit? Maybe meet your friends?"

Faith was touched. Julissa had basically two full-time jobs, one as a guard in a women's correctional facility, and one as a self-employed crisis counselor for the women she helped get back on track in their lives. She had virtually no life outside of work, and she hoarded her vacation time. For her to offer to use some of it for Faith really meant a lot.

"Thanks, J," she said sincerely. "But no. You've got plenty of reasons to stay up there, and one of the perks to hanging with this crowd, apparently, is lots of travel. B mentioned that we might even be able to visit your family in Florida. So you just hang there, and if I need to see you, I'll come to you. I kind of want you to meet Buffy."

"Okay. Well, I'm glad to hear that you didn't just hit the road, but next time don't wait so long to call me after making sudden major changes in your life. Call me if you need me, Faith."

Officer Greg Parks, one of the most junior members of the Sunnydale PD, was bored. He had been a patrolman for just over six months, and he had yet to make one arrest. Currently, he was vigilantly protecting the residents of Sunnydale from the dangers of drowsy truckers and intoxicated college students. And he hadn't seen any of them tonight, either.

He sighed, took another sip of his coffee, and wished, not for the first time, that he had been able to talk his wife into moving to Los Angeles. Or San Francisco. Or anywhere with more crime than Boringdale, California.

He had read all the statistics, and from what he had heard this town had been a hotbed of gang activity a few years ago. He couldn't believe it. He had lived here for a year, and been a patrolman for half that time, and he had yet to see a single gang-banger. He knew there was an unusually high death rate in the town, but since he had yet to be called to any of the crime scenes, he had no idea what was behind it. He suspected they were murder-suicides caused by boredom.

He took another drink of his coffee, and looked out the window of his patrol car. He was stationed about 10 miles outside of Sunnydale proper, in the theory that he would be able to detain any drunks or speeders before they reached the much more populous metro areas of downtown Sunnydale. It was a fine theory, except for the fact that there was almost no traffic.

Which is why he jumped in shock, spilling his coffee, when the black Ferrari roared past him a few minutes later. He immediately pulled out onto the road in pursuit, hitting his lights and siren and turning on his radar gun. He grinned in anticipation when it gave him a reading of 153 MPH. He might actually get to make an arrest for reckless driving. Not to mention the pleasure of pulling over what he could now make out as a black Ferrari F355. One of his dream cars from his high-school days. The driver had already hit the brakes and looked to be pulling over.

He was so excited by the break in routine that he forgot to call his dispatcher.

"Don't worry," Julius said. He casually flicked his cigarette out the window. "Turn off the headlights. Natasha will handle this. Just ease on up behind them."

He stepped out of his car, grabbing his citation pad, and walked up to the driver's door. His first surprise, when he approached the convertible, was the long, dark brown hair he could see blowing in the gentle ocean breeze. The second was the youth and beauty of the face that looked up at him with a mischievous grin when he reached the driver's side door.

"Good evening, Officer," said the vision of loveliness behind the wheel of the Ferrari. "Was I going too fast?"

Parks recovered from his surprise, but couldn't keep his eyes from roving over what he could see of the slim beauty before him. Her dark hair was gathered into a long ponytail secured by two ebony rods, which the wind had whipping out behind her. She was long legged and slender, and she was clad in a form-hugging black bodysuit of some materiel he didn't recognize. He realized that she was looking at him expectantly and snapped back into focus.

"Yes, indeed, young lady, I believe that you and I both know you were going over 150 miles an hour. Have you been drinking this evening?"

Her eyes flickered to the passenger seat before coming back to him, and she answered coyly, "Well, I may have had a glass…"

"Do you have any identification on you, young lady?"

"I'm afraid I must have left it at home."

"Uh-huh. Step out of the car please, ma'am." He took several steps back from the door, and admired the long, trim leg, encased in what looked like a cross between spandex and suede, as it emerged from the vehicle. The four-inch stiletto heels on her boots still left her a good four inches below his own 6' 2". His eyes tracked slowly up from her ankles, unable to resist admiring every curve, until he reached her face and realized she was grinning at him impishly again.

See that she had his attention, she slowly raised her hands and interlaced her fingers behind her head, an action that spread open the tight waist-length black leather jacket she wore, giving him a good view of her well rounded, if small, bosom, encased in the same strange black material as everything else she wore.

"Are you going to frisk me, Officer?" she said coyly.

"Uh, no ma'am." he said. He couldn't imagine her hiding a weapon in that form hugging outfit. He could clearly see her nipples through the material of her top, and he was cursing himself inwardly for letting himself get distracted. He was a married man, dammit!

"That's too bad," she said sadly. In the space of a heartbeat, she pulled one of the small ebony spikes, about the length of a chopstick, from its place in her hair, and plunged it through the right eye of Officer Greg Parks. It penetrated his brain instantly, so he was unaware when she grabbed both sides of his head and pulled his body close, her lips fastening greedily onto the wound and sucking noisily at the fluids gushing from his head.

"What do you want us to do with…that, ma'am?" Julius asked respectfully, gesturing at the body.

"Take it in the van and strip it, and be sure not to get any blood on the uniform if you can avoid it. It will be useful."

Julius nodded and looked at Marcus, who licked his lips, obviously having trouble controlling himself with the scent of fresh blood hanging in the air. Julius cuffed him upside the head, and he gave a start, and then bent to follow orders.

Julius waited until Marcus had carried the body back to the van, and then turned to Natasha, who was busy re-applying her lipstick. Julius idly wondered if it was difficult to do that without a mirror, and then asked, "What about the cruiser, ma'am?"

Natasha looked at him, and said, "What about it?"

"Shouldn't we get rid of it?"

Natasha gave him a withering look. "What good is a police uniform without a police car? Once you have him stripped, put on the uniform, get in the car, and follow me. Do you have any more stupid questions?"

Julius looked at the ground in abject terror. "No, ma'am."

Williams had been with 'the company,' as he liked to think of it, for 3 years. That made him an old-timer, by any standards but the Board's. Before that, he had been a Secret Service agent. He had been good at his job, and well-decorated, but his last detail had been wiped out by an angry vampire that had been double-crossed on some shady deal by the Congressman he was protecting.

He had been the only survivor, and no one had believed the story he told. His superiors had tried to ignore it, passing it off as delusions caused by his injuries, but he had been adamant. He had seen the fangs. He had shot the bastard a half-dozen times, and seen the hits. This was no domestic terrorist on PCP. He knew what a vampire was, even if he had thought them fictional before that night.

His insistence had bought him a psych discharge, and a visit by an earnest young man named Riley Finn. Finn had been a Special Forces type, although he had never learned what branch, who knew about vampires. He had told Williams that he believed him, and that there was an organization that fought vampires. And other things. That had been all Williams needed to know.

He had lost friends on that detail, and he had been a career agent. He had no family to speak of, other than some distant cousins he had never met, so he had jumped at the chance for a new career, and some payback.

Three years later, he had had his fill of payback. Now he was committed to the 'cause.' He wasn't exactly sure when it had happened, but he thought it was shortly after he had finished his advanced training at the hands of Buffy Summers, just before he became a team leader. Now he was in for life. Not that that was likely to be a long time, since he was the only surviving member of his training class. He had been in one of the first ones, back in the early days, when they were still pretty local. He had been amazed at how fast the company had grown, and was proud to be a part of it. He mourned the loss of his comrades, but he believed that what they were doing was worth the risks.

Usually.

This time, however, they were taking a risk that he considered unnecessary, and he was seriously considering pointing that fact out to Mr. Giles in the morning. Giles was pretty good about listening to the advice of the field agents, but you never knew. It wouldn't do to irritate a Board member, even if they all did have an incredible history of being understanding bosses.

"Is everything ready?" she asked Julius when he approached. She examined him thoroughly. "It fits well enough."

Julius looked down at the dead policeman's uniform he was wearing, and grimaced before he replied. "It fits fine. Everything is prepared."

"You understand you are not to move before I tell you? It would not do for you to make an appearance before I take out the sentries."

"I understand, ma'am. I will not approach the vehicle until you order it," he replied.

"Good. Load them up."

They were alert, but they were only human. Natasha leapt from her perch at the top of a telephone pole and landed silently behind them. Two of them died before they were even aware they were under attack, killed instantly by the silenced 9mm pistols in Natasha's hands. The third died a split second later, as he was turning to see what had happened to his companions. All three died without making a sound.

A minute later, and she was eliminating the three-man team posted at the south end of Giles's block. After that, it took her two minutes to creep up on the team located behind Giles' apartment, and then it was only another ninety seconds to kill the last three-man team, located at the north end of the street. She ran quickly back behind the building, and quietly climbed up the outside wall to the roof. To prevent a bullet accidentally penetrating the roof and alerting her target, she killed the sentry posted there with a garrote. The thin wire sliced most of the way through his neck to his spinal column. The rich smell of the blood pouring from his severed arteries was tempting, but she had work to do.

She picked up the night-vision binoculars the sentry had been using and examined the area, confirming that there weren't any sentries she had missed. She then looked at the black Suburban parked in front of the building. Seeing no signs of alarm, she crept quietly to the edge of the roof, over the entrance to her target's apartment. Keying the radio at her belt, she whispered quietly, "I'm in position. Go now," into the mike on her collar.

She watched their appropriated police cruiser turn the corner and pull up behind the black Suburban.

"Anyone we know?" he asked from the bench seat he was laying on, behind Evans.

"No, must be one of the rookies," Evans answered.

"Sir, I've got what looks like encrypted radio traffic on the scanners," the electronics tech said from the back of the Suburban.

"Probably from the cruiser behind us," Williams reassured him.

The explosion occurred inches below the window frame of the driver-side door, and sent shards of metal slicing through the interior of the vehicle as it flipped over onto the passenger side.

She took one step forward and sent a snap-kick flashing towards the front door of the apartment. It was a heavy oak door, good and solid, but it was never built to withstand the likes of her. Her foot blasted the door out of the frame and sent it crashing into the apartment, narrowly missing Giles, who was coming to see what all the noise out front was. He stopped in shock, looking first at the door and then back at the slender young girl who had kicked it off its hinges. His eyes narrowed as he realized what she must be, and he reached for the cellphone in his pocket.

She didn't give him time to reach it. Pulling a taser from her belt, she shot him in the chest, and he dropped, twitching, to the floor.

"Well, that was fun," she said with a bright smile, dusting off her hands.

"How do we get him out?" asked Marcus, who was one of the vampires who had come running from behind the building to assist her.

"Did you bring my crossbow?" she asked.

"Of course. It's in the bag."

"Good." Taking the bag he indicated from the vampire who was carrying it, she opened it, and pulled out a large crossbow with an evil-looking barbed point on the bolt. Marcus noted the cable reel attached to the underside of the frame, and suddenly he understood. He smiled as she attached the end of the cable to an eye-hook underneath the point of the bolt, and she winked at him before taking aim and firing the bolt at the unconscious man laying on the floor a few feet away from them. The bolt struck his calf with a meaty THUNK! and she laughed delightedly before handing the crossbow to Marcus, who held it while she slowly reeled in the wire and pulled Giles' unconscious body across the floor of his apartment, and out the door to lie at their feet.

"That takes care of that. Bandage up his leg, and no tasting!" she told him, wagging a finger admonishingly. "We need him alive. For now."

"I don't understand why we don't simply turn him. It might take longer, but once he is changed he will tell us everything we want to know," said a deep male voice.

"Because, you fool, he was a very dedicated Watcher. And Watchers are trained to resist the impulse to drink. Many of them cannot be turned, just like Slayers. They must submit. He will not, and then he would be dead. This way is better. And more fun." It was a young woman's voice, he thought, and it sounded like she was pacing as she spoke.

"He's awake," he heard the soft, feminine voice say from just behind him. "I can hear his heart rate increasing." Giles could hear a faint accent, but it was too vague to identify.

"Should we sedate him again?" A male voice, this time. A vampire. He could tell by the lisp caused by the fangs.

"No, I think we're just about ready. Is the video-link set up?" The woman again. Giles thought maybe the accent was French, but he wasn't sure.

"Yeah. We have a live feed going out now."

"Good. Hit the lights."

Blinding light flooded the area, and Giles shut his eyes in pain. After a few moments, he cautiously squinted against the glare, and gradually he was able to make out his surroundings.

He was securely bound to an uncomfortable metal chair in the middle of an empty warehouse. He could see several vehicles parked inside with him, over by what he assumed was the entrance. Floodlights stood on poles around him, lighting up the entire area. He could hear people moving behind him, but all he could see in front of him was a folding table that had been set up with some kind of computer equipment and a video camera, pointing at him. That must be what they meant by 'live feed.'

He heard footsteps, and then the beautiful young woman he vaguely remembered kicking in his door walked into view from behind him. She circled him slowly, coming to a stop just in front of him, and cocked her left hand on her hip and cradled her chin with her right. It was an artfully struck pose, and Giles wondered blearily if she had ever been an actress, before he shook himself back to alertness.

"How are you feeling, Mr. Giles?" she asked, with obviously false concern in her voice.

"I could do with a spot of tea, actually," he replied gamely. Never let them see you sweat, as Buffy would say. He tried to ignore the beads of sweat rolling down his forehead.

"I'm sorry, but I seem to have misplaced my teapot. Perhaps we can send out for some later," she said with a smile. Giles was pretty sure it was a French accent, now. It was very faint, but he had been trained to pay attention to detail, and a small corner of his mind began digging for anything he knew about powerful, female, French vampires. There was something poking at his memory, but he couldn't quite seem to pull it out…

His reverie was ended by a sharp slap. "Now, now, stay with me. It's not polite to wander off in the middle of a conversation like that."

"I'm sorry, but do I know you?" Giles asked. Never hurts to try the upfront approach.

"You can call me Natasha." Giles eyes widened in alarm as several memories suddenly leapt into his forebrain, and Natasha nodded at the sudden look of fear in his eyes. "I see you recognize the name."

"You were Natasha Lyonne?"

"I was. I am. I always will be." She clapped her hands, and then gestured to someone behind Giles. "Now, back to business. I have some questions, and you have the answers." Another vampire came walking into view from behind Giles, this one pushing what appeared to be a room-service cart from a hotel. Resting on it was the usual assortment of implements Giles associated with torture, and he sighed inwardly. Maybe he should think about retirement, assuming he ever got out of this. He was really getting sick of being tortured.

The TV droned away mindlessly, but Faith didn't hear it. She was completely occupied with her thoughts, and her thoughts at the moment centered on the strands of blonde hair she was running her fingers through, and the blonde they belonged to. The blonde in question at the moment was sleeping with her head pillowed on Faith's thigh on the couch, and Faith's head was spinning again at the confusing turns her life was taking.

Faith had returned from her cruise around town late in the afternoon, to find Buffy still absent. She had spent a few hours in the gym, thinking things over and burning off some of her frustration, and had almost decided to either have it out with Buffy, telling her how she felt and what she wanted, or say nothing and accept the fact that nothing would ever happen. It all depended on whether Buffy continued to avoid her, or was hostile to her, the only two scenarios she could see coming up.

So she had been shocked when she returned to Buffy's apartment to find the blonde Slayer waiting for her with dinner laid out. Buffy had given no indication of any awareness of discomfort between them, which had confused the hell out of Faith and left her nearly speechless for the duration of the meal. Buffy, on the other hand, had been chattering away about the mindless details of her day, completely unaware of the turmoil of Faith's thoughts.

Eventually, Faith put everything out of her mind and let herself simply enjoy Buffy's company. They had settled down on the couch together to watch a movie, but Buffy had complained of a headache and had lain down across the couch, resting her head on Faith's leg, and fallen asleep. Two hours later, and Faith was still lost in thought, contemplating the beauty and mystery of her sister Slayer.

The majority of her quandary stemmed from the fact that she herself was unsure what she really wanted. She knew she cared about the blonde slayer, but she was unsure about her ability to be a participant in any kind of long-term relationship. She had never had one before, and she was afraid that her inexperience would result in her screwing things up. And she wasn't sure she could handle that, again. Buffy and the Sunnydale gang had become the only really good things she had ever had in her life, and if she lost them again, she didn't think she would be able to go on.

And yet another part of her rebelled in fury at the weakness implicit in that need. It screamed at her that she shouldn't need anyone, that she should be strong enough to handle anything on her own, and that she should only have to accept things on her terms. She shouldn't be dependant on the approval and friendship of others, because that gave them license to destroy her any time they wanted. She had avoided putting herself in that situation most of her life, and she had ended up regretting every time she hadn't, one way or another. Including the last time she was here.

Faith sighed and stroked Buffy's hair, and tears began rolling silently down her cheeks as she considered the corner she was being backed into. She didn't want to leave, but she wasn't sure she could stay. She didn't know what Buffy wanted from her, and she really wasn't all that sure what she wanted from herself. She hadn't been aware of it until today, but she had basically lived the last few years in an emotional void. She hadn't been sad in Silver Lake, but she hadn't been happy, either. She had just gone through the motions. She didn't want to wind up like that again. But she didn't know which course of action would lead her to that. So she sat, and admired the slight pout Buffy's lips acquired in her sleep, and thought about how fucked up this whole situation was.

She had been happier over these last two days than she had ever been in her life, and yet all she could think about was what she didn't have. And she wasn't even really sure that she couldn't have what she wanted. Willow seemed to think there was potential for her to have a relationship with Buffy, or at least that was what she seemed to be implying to Faith. So why was she so determined to let her own impatience fuck things up? Why couldn't she just sit back and see what happened?

She closed her eyes, stroking Buffy's golden locks, and the tears continued to roll down her cheeks as the TV droned on.

And because he had tried to spare Giles' feelings, fifteen men were dead, and one was critically injured. Xander was trying not to think about how well he knew those men. Trying not to think about the blood on his hands. Trying not to remember the fact that Joe Evans had been a fanatical Yankees fan, or that Leo Williams had a tendency to dress like a Secret Service agent whenever he came in for meetings, and was fanatically loyal to Buffy. He was trying to forget that he was the one that had picked them for that assignment.

He couldn't. He hit the Stop button angrily, and leaned against the elevator doors as the tears began to flow, and his shoulders shook with the sobs he couldn't hold back. He cried for the friends he had lost, and he cried for the fear of the loss of the closest man to a father he had known. And he cried for the pain that he knew this would cause Buffy.

But crying didn't solve anything, even if the release did give him back some measure of control, so after a minute or two he pulled himself back together. He wiped his face carefully and then allowed the elevator to resume its interrupted journey to the penthouse. When it arrived, he trotted towards the glass doors leading into the penthouse proper, but stopped in shock, frozen with his hand on the door handle, at the scene laid out before him.

Faith sat on the couch, with Buffy sprawled out asleep with her head in the dark Slayer's lap. Faith was gently stroking Buffy's hair as she slept, and the inherent tenderness implied in that gesture rocked Xander to his core. He had honestly believed her incapable of such a display. The tears he could see rolling down her face were another surprise, and a source of concern. He may have had problems trusting her, but he honestly wanted things to work out for her, and he didn't know why she was unhappy. He suspected it had something to do with Buffy, and he suspected that Willow would be able to tell him. Whether she would or not was another story.

Xander backed slowly away from the door. This was an emergency, but there was no reason to humiliate Faith, and for the first time, he thought maybe she deserved a chance. So he trotted back to the elevator, and hit the button for the fourth floor as he pulled his phone out of his pocket and hit the speed-dial for Buffy.

"Willis, would you mind?" she called, and Faith watched as the phone came floating across the room to rest in Buffy's hand.

"Wow, that's handy," Faith said, and Buffy grinned roguishly up from her lap as she stretched like a cat before answering the phone. Faith couldn't keep her eyes from roving up and down Buffy's petite but curvy frame as she stretched, and she groaned inwardly.

"Hello?" Buffy said into the phone. "Slow down, Xander… What?!?" Faith stiffened at the shock and concern suddenly apparent in Buffy's expression, and she watched as the blonde Slayer said quietly, "Yeah, I know. I should have said something then, but… Yeah, we'll be right down." Buffy hit the disconnect button, and the phone dropped from her nerveless fingers. "They got Giles," she said softly, before bursting into tears.

Faith was stunned, both by the news and by Buffy's reaction. She felt the echoes of Buffy's pain within herself, but she hadn't realized the blonde Slayer was this close to the edge. The old Buffy would have held off on the crying until after she had killed everyone even remotely responsible. Now Faith wasn’t even sure Buffy would be able to function. She pushed down her own pain and shock and pulled Buffy up into her lap, and held her tightly as she sobbed against her shoulder.

"It was my fault," Buffy was whispering quietly between sobs. Faith wasn't sure if she was talking to her or herself. "I shouldn't have let him go home. It was my fault."

"Shhh, it's okay, B," Faith said soothingly. "He wanted to go. Now, are you sure he's dead?"

Buffy pulled back to look at Faith, seeming to realize suddenly that she was sitting in the dark Slayer's lap. She shook her head and stood up, and began to pace back and forth as she related to Faith what Xander had told her on the phone. "They attacked just a little while ago. Took out a whole team, only one survivor, and he might not make it, Xander said. They got Giles out of his house, somehow. I don't know all the details. They're waiting for us downstairs."

"Okay. Let's go see what we can find out."

Buffy pushed through the outer doors, and Faith followed to find Xander sitting down on the couch in the waiting room. The red light was on over the door, and Xander appeared to be watching television. Faith took a closer look and realized it was a closed-circuit view of the lab, and Willow and several other people she recognized from the previous day were apparently in the middle of some major magical working.

"Hey," Xander said listlessly from the couch. Faith noticed the dejected slump of his shoulders and the slight redness of his eyes and nose, and wondered if he, too, had been crying.

"Hey," she said back. Buffy was lost in thought, staring at the TV monitor, so Faith sat down next to Xander on the couch. "What happened?"

Xander sighed, and Faith realized how little she understood about the changes he had undergone. She remembered him as being carefree and light-hearted. Now he looked like his cares were crushing him. "The team watching Giles' place got taken out. Fifteen field operatives and a support tech, and they were killed so smoothly that the backup team, two blocks away, didn't even know anything was happening until the 911 calls came in about explosions."

"Explosions?" Faith asked in surprise, and Buffy came out of her daze and turned around as well.

"Yeah," Xander said. "Whoever did this took out the roving patrol, then the perimeter teams, then the sentry on the roof, and then they apparently threw a grenade through the window of the CV out in front of the house."

"CV?" Faith said.

"Command Vehicle," Buffy told her. "It's just a big truck with a lot of communications and surveillance gear."

"Oh. Okay. So, how did they get Giles out? And why didn't he call for help?"

"Well," Xander said, sighing again, "apparently they took out the whole security detail in under ten minutes, which is the check-in interval. Giles probably didn't even know anything was going on until the truck blew up, which was the last thing they did, probably simultaneously with the attack on Giles himself. It looks like they kicked in his door, and then shot him or stabbed him, and dragged him out of the apartment. There was a lot of blood, and you could see where he had been dragged out the door. They were gone by the time we got there, and we were there within two minutes of the 911 call. The cops got there shortly after. According to our only surviving witness, the team leader-"

"Williams?" Buffy asked, and Xander nodded. Buffy sighed.

"-whoever blew the van rolled up on them in a police car. Leo said that much, before he lost consciousness. The cops found it dumped a few blocks away. They're pissed, because apparently whoever did this killed the cop whose car it was, too."

They all sat silently, Buffy and Faith absorbing what Xander had told them, and Xander went back to staring at the TV. After a minute, Faith said, "Forgive my ignorance, but what are they doing?"

"Tracking Giles," Buffy said. "If he's still alive, they'll tell us where he is. Probably even if he's dead, but that will take longer."

"Oh."

They all sat silently after that, watching Willow and her team work in the next room.

"Well?" Buffy asked impatiently.

"He's in LA. Somewhere in the warehouse district."

Buffy nodded and pulled out her cell phone. While she was dialing, she spoke to Xander and Faith. "Xander, call the airport and have them send the chopper to pick us up. Faith, would you mind going upstairs and grabbing my bag? Just go in my closet and ask Willis for my field bag, he'll show you. You might want to pack something for yourself, too. There should be luggage in your closet."

Faith nodded and immediately headed out the door. She heard Xander dialing, and she heard Buffy speak into her phone just as she hit the door.

"Cordelia? It's me. I need…"

Cordelia Chase sat in the offices of Angel Investigations, flipping through the pages of Variety and keenly aware that it was Saturday night. And she was in the office. Again. More than once she had tried to pin down exactly when it was that her social life had atrophied to the point of non-existence. She was fairly certain it was after the third time she had a vision while receiving a good night kiss after a date.

She sighed, and then groaned as she turned the page and saw Wesley, looking sophisticated and elegant, on the arm of another starlet, pictured at some opening or another. Three pictures, in three issues. She had been trying to get her picture in Variety for as long as she could remember, and Wesley shows up in it on the arm of three different starlets in as many months. There was no justice.

She had come to Los Angeles looking for a new beginning. She had thought to find her path through acting, because back then she had seen fame as the best route to success and happiness. Seven years, a few plays, two very small movie roles, and a small part on a TV series that was cancelled before her character was introduced had convinced her that acting for a living was not in the cards for her. But she still wanted to see her picture in Variety.

Two years ago, Angel Investigations had become a wholly owned subsidiary of WKV Inc., so at least she was getting regular paychecks these days. Even if it did mean that she worked for Buffy, and indirectly, Xander Harris.

Xander Harris. She sighed as she thought about him, again. Seven years ago she had moved to L.A. For a number of reasons, she had told herself, but the main one was Xander Harris. Sure, her family was broke, and had never really been all that stable to begin with. And she had needed an alterative to college, and the idea of living poor in a town where she had once been rich was too embarrassing to consider.

But the main reason was to leave Xander, and everything associated with him, behind her. He had been the first person in her life to really know her. To make her feel loved, for who she really was, not for what she had or how she looked. He had been the one that made her realize that maybe looks and popularity weren't everything.

And no matter how hard she had tried, she had never found anyone else that made her feel as good as he had. She thought maybe Doyle could have, but that door had closed before she had had an opportunity to do more than peek inside, and nobody else had even come close.

At least she didn't have to see him. They had managed to part friends, before she came to L.A., and in the seven years that had followed, he had never come near her again. Buffy and Willow both dropped in occasionally, but Xander never came to L.A. When she asked, Willow had told her it was because Angel and Gunn could run any operations in L.A., so Xander thought it best if he focused on events elsewhere. But she wouldn't meet Cordelia's eyes when she said it.

She looked up as Wesley walked in, and groaned inwardly. He was wearing a very nice Armani suit, and though she would never tell him so, he looked quite dashing. He was probably headed out for another night on the town with the bimbo of the week.

"Cordelia, is Angel in?" he asked, with his crisp English diction.

"No," she answered with a sigh, "he's out hunting down another Mohra demon."

"Again?" he asked in surprise, as he walked over to the coffee machine.

"Yeah. I think he's trying to make them extinct."

"Well, they are soldiers of darkness," he replied, "so I can't exactly say that I blame him. However, I fail to understand why he is so…fixated on this particular species."

"It's personal," she answered, standing up and moving to get a cup of coffee for herself. "They pissed him off."

"Really? How did they manage to do that?" he asked.

"It's kind of a long story," she began, as she poured her cup and took a small sip. "Back before you got here, when Angel was still in deep-" The cup fell from her suddenly nerveless fingers, and she stiffened as a bolt of agony shot through her skull.

"Cordelia?" Wesley said in alarm, and then dropped his own coffee mug and leapt to catch her as her eyes rolled back in her head, and she collapsed.

Her hands and feet were bound to the chair, and she could feel the dried blood that crusted her skin with every movement. She concentrated, trying to ignore the blazing pain in her skull, and the scene around her froze. With a thought, her viewpoint changed, and she moved up and forward, towards the dark girl she suddenly knew was a vampire.

She turned, examining the rest of her surroundings, and her concentration wavered as she recognized the blood covered form before her, tied to a chair. His hair was matted with blood, and it looked like parts of his arms had been skinned. Small needles had been inserted under his fingernails, and the blackened metal she could see told her they had been heated repeatedly.

She tore her focus away from the man in the chair and examined the rest of what she could see. It was a warehouse, and suddenly the address popped in her head, as they sometimes did. She also observed a small army of vampires milling around behind the chair, out of sight of its occupant. Several bodies had been hung from some rolling crane-like things that she thought were used for working on cars, obviously for the vamp's entertainment, judging from their unnatural stillness and the abundance of bite marks.

The vamps looked to be waiting on something, and she observed that while most of them were doing usual time-killing things, like playing cards, watching television, or just talking, a small group of them, separate from the others, were moving with a kind of grim precision, cleaning weapons, guns and other things she didn't recognize. She suddenly knew intuitively that they were the real danger here, them and the girl.

The pain in her skull redoubled, and she let go of the vision, which became a chaotic jumble of lights before fading out and leaving her in darkness.

She gradually became aware of something besides the blinding pain in her skull. The first thing she noticed was that she was being held in a gentle but firm embrace, and her head was pillowed on a shoulder. She was being gently rocked, and someone was stroking her hair. She sighed and nuzzled gently at the neck before her, inhaling the warm, sensual smell of tobacco, green tea, and ginger. Creed, she thought. Taba-Rome.

She suddenly realized, all at once, that she was nuzzling Wesley's neck. Never mind how good he smelled, this was Wesley. She was also aware that he was kneeling on the floor in a puddle of spilled coffee and shattered porcelain mugs, cradling her gently to his chest.

She opened her eyes to see him gazing at her with tenderness and concern apparent on his face, and she ignored the fact that she was sitting in spilled coffee and blurted out the first thing that came to her jumbled mind. "Are you wearing Taba-Rome?"

He blinked in surprise. "Why, yes. Are you all right?"

She sighed, suddenly remembering where she was. "I will be if I can get these coffee stains out of this skirt." She started to pull out of his arms, but he held her tight with one arm and reached into the pocket of his suit. He pulled out a clean white handkerchief and gently wiped her nose.

"What did you see?" he asked gently, folding the handkerchief, but she noticed the blood staining it, and then looked to see more blood on his suit where her head had rested.

"Oh, Wes! Your suit!" She started to get up, but he held on to her. Then, rising to one knee, his slid his free arm under her legs and picked her up. She stiffened for a moment, but her head was still throbbing, and she was starting to enjoy the feeling of being held, even if it was just platonic concern.

"Don't worry about the suit. Do you remember anything?" he asked as he set her on the couch gently, kneeling beside her.

She closed her eyes, trying to recall what she had seen, and then sat bolt upright in shock as it all came flooding back to her. "Ohmigod! Giles! Wesley, call Angel. Bad things are happening!" She reached for the phone on the coffee table beside the couch. It rang just before she touched it, and she picked it up automatically. "Angel Investigations, we help the hopeless!" Her brain was working on autopilot, and Wesley moved to take the phone out of her hand, but she waved him off as she recognized the voice on the other end.

"Cordelia? It's me," Buffy said. "I need to talk to-"

"Giles has been kidnapped!" Cordelia interrupted.

"Yes, I know. How did you?"

"What do you pay me for, exactly?" Cordelia asked, rolling her eyes at Wesley. She covered the mouthpiece with her free hand and said to Wesley, "Get Angel on the phone, now. And please get my pills out of my desk when you're done." Speaking to Buffy again, she said, "I've got Angel on the way back to the office, and I'll have a strike team ready by the time you get here. I assume you're on your way?"

"We will be in about 15 minutes," Buffy replied. "What do you know?"

"He's been kidnapped and tortured, it looks bad. We'll need some kind of medical backup on site. There's a whole lot of nasties just standing around, looked like they were waiting on something. And I've got the address. I'll give you a full briefing when you get here."

"Ok," Buffy said, with relief evident in her voice. "I'll be there as soon as I can. Tell Angel to get a preliminary strike plan going, we'll fine tune it when I get there."

"Got it. And Buffy? Hurry." She hung up the phone, and then picked it up and began dialing again.

Meanwhile, Wesley had gone to her desk and called Angel's cell phone. Angel picked up after a few rings, sounding somewhat out of breath. "Hello?"

"Angel," Wesley began, his accent crisp like it always was in a crisis. Cordelia suddenly remembered how sexy she had thought his voice was when she first met him. "Buffy called. She-"

"What does she want now? Tell her I can't leave town every time she finds a nest in some-"

"Angel, please," Wesley cut him off. "This is an emergency. Giles has been kidnapped and is here in Los Angeles. Buffy is on her way, and Cordelia is alerting the strike team. She had a vision."

Angel was silent for a moment, and then said, "I'm on my way."

Wesley hung up the phone and looked through Cordelia's top desk drawer until he found a prescription pill bottle. He noted with some concern that it was for Vicodin, but he said nothing, simply retrieving a glass of water from the cooler and carrying it and the pill bottle to Cordelia, who was on the phone.

"Look, Gunn," she was saying, "I don't care if you have plans. We have an emergency, so alert your team and get your ass in here! I'll give you the details in person, but it's going to be a tough one, so get in gear!" She slammed down the phone, and took the pills and water from Wesley with a relieved sigh. "I swear," she said as she popped two capsules and washed them down, "sometimes he argues just for the sake of arguing. I mean, we all know that fighting is his favorite thing in the world, so why does he gripe every time we tell him something's up?" She took another drink of water and then set the glass down on the table and leaned back into the couch with a sigh.

"Are you alright?" Wesley asked with concern.

"Yeah," she said in a weak voice. "It was a bad one, though."

Wesley was quiet for a moment, and then asked, "How often do you get the nosebleeds?"

Cordelia opened her eyes to glare at him for a moment, but her look softened when she saw his genuine concern. "Only when I have to hang on to it. Usually not even then, but this one was important, so I had to work harder, to get as much as I could."

"I was not aware that your increasing control over your visions was having such debilitating side effects. Why didn't you tell me?" he asked.

"Because I didn't want you to worry. It's not usually this bad."

"Does Angel know?"

"No. Relax, Wes, it's not like this all the time. This one just required more." She looked at him for a moment, taking in the coffee stains on his slacks where he had knelt on the floor, holding her, and the bloodstains on his shoulder where her head had rested. "Thanks for helping me."

He smiled and took her hand gently, and said, "Anytime."

"Well?"

"Chopper can't be ready in less than 25 minutes, probably half an hour," he said dejectedly.

"Dammit!" she screamed. Then she pulled her temper back under control. "Okay, well, if that's the best we can do, we'll work with it. Willow," she said, turning to the red-head, "Cordelia had a vision. We've got an address on Giles, but she said he's in bad shape. Get a paramedic unit ready to go with us, and anything else you can think of that will help. Cordy said he's got a lot of bad guys, looked like they were waiting for us to get there." She shot a significant look at Xander as she said that, and he nodded. "I'm going to go upstairs and get ready. You guys get what you need, talk to whoever, and meet me upstairs. 25 minutes."

They nodded, and Buffy looked at them both for a moment. Xander met her eyes grimly, his normally expressive face a mask as he tried not to think about Giles being hurt. Willow simply looked back at her with love and concern, but Buffy could see the distracted cast to her face that meant part of her brain was already organizing the things she'd need for this trip. She nodded to them both and then ran for the elevator.

"Okay, Willis, I'm coming," she said. She walked into her own room, as she was beginning to think of it, and walked into the huge closet. She grabbed the strap that Willis was holding out for her, to indicate the proper bag, which she had already spotted since it was identical to Buffy's, right down to being in the same place in the closet. She dragged it out where she could pick it up, and then walked out into her room. As she emerged from the closet, she heard Buffy coming into the penthouse.

"Faith!" Buffy called.

"Back here!" Faith answered, and Buffy walked through the bedroom door a moment later.

"Good, you found them," Buffy said. "We have about a half-hour to get ready."

"What-what's the plan?" Faith asked hesitantly.

Buffy picked her bag up off the floor and threw it on the bed, and then stopped and took a deep breath before answering. "I don't know yet. We'll have two strike teams available, about thirty guys total. We have a helicopter. We have an address. I'm still working on the details." She unzipped the bag and pulled out what looked to Faith like a wetsuit.

"No, I mean," Faith took a deep breath, and continued, "what's your plan for me?"

Buffy looked at her in surprise, and then hesitantly said, "I- uh, I guess I just assumed you'd come with me. I don't know, really. What do you want to do?"

Faith looked at the floor and shuffled her feet uncomfortably before answering. "I want to come. Giles was my Watcher, too, and my friend. I think. I know I don't want anything to happen to him, and I want to help." She looked up at Buffy, and the blonde Slayer was shocked by the fear, confusion, and pain that were revealed in the dark-haired girls eyes. "I'm just afraid I'll be in the way. I'd hate for anything bad to happen because of me. This is too important."

Buffy moved around the bed to grasp Faith by the arms, and looked straight into her eyes. "Listen to me, Faith. You can do this, if you really want to. But you don't have to start now. I'd like you there with me, but you could wait in the chopper or at Angel's. But don't ever worry about getting in the way. I want you with me."

Faith looked at the floor again, unable to meet Buffy's eyes. "I want to come," she said. "I'm afraid that if I don't try now, I won't ever be able to."

"Okay. Let's get ready, then." Buffy walked back around to the other side of the bed, and picked what Faith still thought looked like a wetsuit. "This is what I wear on strikes and patrols, these days. Look in your bag, you should have one, too."

Faith picked up the bag she had retrieved from the closet, and dropped it on her side of the bed. She opened it, and on top was an outfit identical to Buffy's. "It looks like a wetsuit," she said.

"I know. That's what I said, the first time Bear showed it to me. Actually, it's a kind of ballistic cloth, the next generation of Kevlar, the stuff they make bulletproof vests out of. To quote Bear, 'it's comfortable, stylish, and it will stop all penetrating weapons.' That includes but is not limited to knives, swords, bullets, claws, and fangs. However, it doesn't do much for blunt force trauma. So getting shot, stabbed, or sliced will still hurt like hell, but at least they can't cut you open." Buffy put down the suit, and Faith's eyes went wide as Buffy began casually undressing. Buffy stripped down to her panties, without so much as a glance at Faith, who was still frozen. Faith's eyes greedily drank in the view of the nearly naked blonde Slayer. Buffy turned and pulled a sports bra out of a dresser drawer, and Faith shook herself out of her stupor and began hurriedly removing her own clothes. She didn't see Buffy watching her, the blonde's eyes drinking in the sight of her revealed skin just as greedily as she had.

When they were both dressed in the skin-tight suits, Buffy reached into her bag and pulled out a pair of boots, holding them up so Faith could see the crosses inlaid into the soles. "Gives your kicks a little extra, uh, kick," Buffy said wryly. The slayers put on the knee-high boots, and Buffy pulled out the next item in the bag.

Faith's eyes immediately locked on the pistol, secure in a shoulder holster, that was attached to the web harness that Buffy drew from her bag. Faith slowly reached into the matching bag before her, and it felt like she was lifting an anvil as she pulled out the bundle of straps, pouches, and weapons. She noted that the knife Bear had made for her was attached, as well as the pistol and who-knew-what-else in the pouches.

Buffy glanced over and saw Faith sitting frozen, her expression stiff as she stared at the knife and gun. "Hey," she said, laying her hand gently on Faith's shoulder to get her attention. "You don't have to use them. But if you need them, at least you'll have them. Better to have it and not need it than need it and not have it, right? Besides, you're mostly observing, this time out. Just stick close to me, until we get to Giles. Then stick close to him. I'll take care of the fighting. If anything DOES come after you, well, just beat the hell out of it, and I'll kill it later. Okay?"

Faith took a shuddering breath, then nodded and shrugged into the harness. She tried to ignore the pistol, snug in it's holster under her left arm, and the knife that hung on her right hip, but they felt like lead weights, dragging her into darkness. Her eyes stared off into nowhere, visions of the deaths she had already caused flashing before her eyes, and then she snapped back to awareness as she realized that Buffy's hand was on her cheek, and the blonde slayer was nose to nose with her, staring into her eyes.

"Hey," Buffy said in a voice that only Faith could hear. "If you're having second thoughts, it's okay. You can stay in the chopper, or whatever. I understand."

Faith was tempted, but deep down she knew that if she didn't at least TRY, she never would. "No," she said. "I have to go. I WANT to go. It's just, y'know, nerves."

Buffy smiled, and Faith's heart skipped a beat. Buffy pressed her forehead to Faith's and rubbed noses with her in a gentle Eskimo kiss, and said, "Don't worry, you'll be fine."

Faith swallowed the lump in her throat and nodded. Buffy stepped back and looked at her, then adjusted some of the straps on Faith's harness, adjusting the fit slightly. She stepped back again and then nodded, and said, "How's it feel? Can you move easily?"

Faith stepped away from Buffy and performed a few of the limbering moves from her Tai Chi routine, surprised at how little the 'wetsuit' encumbered her movement. It looked like neoprene, but it felt and wore like very soft cotton, and it fit like spandex. She looked back up at Buffy, who was adjusting her own harness, and said, "It feels like a second skin."

"That's the idea." Buffy took a few grenades from her bag, and hung them from catches on her harness. Faith also noted the presence of an expanding baton, like the guards had used back in prison, on Buffy's hip, opposite the knife that matched the one Faith wore.

All in all, the dark Slayer thought to herself, Buffy looked sexy and dangerous as hell.

Xander's gear consisted of a bodysuit similar to the one Faith and Buffy wore, but over it he wore a hard, black, clamshell armor that looked to Faith like something from one of her old moto-cross games on her Playstation. He also carried a lot more weaponry, several pistols and a submachine gun. Pouches attached to the armor bulged with additional ammo, and he wore a headset attached to a small radio mounted on his right shoulder. A camera lens peeked at her from his left shoulder.

Xander noticed her examining him, so he walked over to her, smiling grimly, and began describing the various pieces of equipment he wore. "The bodysuit is basically the same as yours and Buff's, but since the team members try to avoid hand-to-hand combat, we sacrifice some mobility for the extra protection the clamshell armor gives us. It's basically like football pads, but bullet- and sword-proof, since we can't take the same amount of punishment as you two. In strikes, we follow Buffy in, and she takes out whoever is closest while we try to pick off everyone else."

"What's in the guns, wooden bullets?" Faith asked.

Xander grinned. "No, we tried that, but the only wood that works is this stuff called 'lignum vitae,' and it's really rare and expensive. So Bear came up with the idea of magnesium cores. Basically, they're incendiary bullets. They have relatively low penetration, which has its good and bad points, but generally if you hit a vamp in the heart or head, he'll burn to dust in a few seconds."

Faith grinned, surprised again by this confident, professional Xander. She could see the boy she had known in him, but his goofy, shy insecurity had been ground away, and she liked the man he had become. She hoped they would be able to work past whatever prevented him from forgiving her, because she thought he would be a good friend.

"So," she asked, "what's the usual success rate for a strike like this?"

His grin vanished, to be replaced by grim acceptance, and he glanced at Buffy, who was talking with Willow, before he answered. "To be honest, not very good. We haven't done very many hostage rescues, especially with so little to go on. The few we have done, have been costly. Normally, even on an urban strike like this, we'd hit during the day, and go in with flamethrowers and grenade-launchers."

"Grenade-launchers?" Faith asked in surprise, and Xander nodded.

"Yeah. Not high-explosive, though. Willy-petes." At Faith's baffled look, he explained. "It's a nickname. Stands for 'white phosphorus. Burns hot enough to melt steel, and will really ruin a vamp's day. On an ideal strike, we don't even have to fight, because they're all dead by the time we walk in the door after the grenades. But that almost never happens.

This time, though, since according to Will's spell Giles is still alive, we can't go in hot. We've got to try to secure him, which mean we have to fight with some precision. Personally, I prefer massive overkill, but the mission objective defines the force levels."

Faith smirked at him. "I almost understood that."

Xander grinned back at her, and said, "Since we want Giles alive, we can't just go in and fry everything that moves." He looked up as Buffy moved back over to them.

"Chopper's on the way," she said. "It's time to go."

Once they were in the air, Faith was surprised again at how quiet it was inside the chopper. She looked at Xander, who was seated across from her, inquiringly.

"What?" he asked.

"I expected it to be noisier in here," she said.

"Ah. Well, we have some, uh, good connections for things like equipment and vehicles. This is one of the newer Special Forces transports. It's sound insulated, and it also has surprisingly effective stealth capabilities. It's hell on the fuel consumption, but this thing can fly quiet as a whisper when it has to."

Faith nodded her understanding, and looked around the interior of the troop bay. Willow was also sitting across from her, one seat over from Xander with a large book across her lap, which she was studying intently. She appeared to be muttering under her breath, as well. Faith guessed she was preparing a spell.

Movement caught her eye, and she looked away from Willow just as Buffy plopped down in the seat next to her. Buffy had been up front, speaking to the pilots. Faith realized that she really didn't know where they were going, other than Los Angeles.

"So, B, where are we headed? And is it just going to be us?" she asked, gesturing at the empty troop compartment. "We're going to Angel's hotel in LA. He should have two strike teams ready for us by the time we get there."

"Any ideas about enemy numbers?" Xander asked.

"No. Cordelia just said 'a lot.'" Buffy replied. Faith noticed the way Xander's face froze momentarily when Buffy mentioned Queen C, and she wondered if he still had a thing for his old flame.

"How many on our side?" Faith asked.

"Thirty," Xander said. "Both field teams in L.A. Angel put them on alert immediately, and they should be on site when we get there."

"Angel works for you?" Faith asked in surprise.

"Well," Buffy began hesitantly, and Xander snickered. Buffy glared at him, and he went from snickering to choked coughing.

"It's kind of complicated," Buffy said to Faith, ignoring Xander, who had tears in his eyes and both hands over his mouth.