Buffy had a sudden awareness of pain. And a very bright light shining in her left eye. She struggled to close her eyelid once more and was rewarded with a brief return to blackness. Then her right eye was forced open and the painful light returned. She groaned.

"So, our mystery girl is coming around at last."

Buffy made a supreme effort and forced her eyelids open. She couldn’t see much through the after-image of the light on her retina. She blinked a few times till she could vaguely make out the figure of a dark-haired woman busily flicking through a folder of papers.

"We weren’t expecting to see you awake for quite a while. Head cracked like yours..." The woman was speaking more to her chart than to Buffy. She was very confused. Her head hurt a lot and she had no idea where she was.

"Who are you? What’s going on?"

"You’re in Sunnydale Hospital. You were brought in unconscious to the ER. Do you remember anything?" The doctor had abandoned her chart when Buffy spoke and had placed a reassuring hand on her arm.

Buffy closed her eyes and tried to think. It was hard to get past the panic which had flooded her at the word ‘hospital’. She had only vague notions of what had happened to her. She’d been at the docks for some reason... someone she’d cared for had been in trouble... The only thing that was really clear was the large wooden box which landed on her head. She winced involuntarily at the memory.

The doctor stroked her hair gently, soothingly. Buffy’s eyes opened again, this time brimming with tears. "I’m not sure... I think a crate fell on me..." The disoriented girl began to get distressed.

"Don’t worry. Some memory loss is bound to occur with an injury like this. Let’s start with something easy. What can I call you?" The doctor smiled at Buffy, who was beginning to relax again. She had not lost her quick wit, despite the nasty headache.

"Asked you first" she returned with the faintest sign of an adorable grin.

******

The brunette doctor felt an undeniable attraction to the girl, who radiated both amazing strength and heart-rending vulnerability. She was amazed at the speed of her patient’s recovery. Only a few short hours ago the slight blonde had been brought in with her skull fractured in numerous places. Several deep gashes on her neck, arms and legs had received stitches, and there was a similar wound on her forehead. By rights the girl should have been in a coma, or at least unconscious for quite some time.

"I’m Dr Doyle, you don’t want to mess with me while I’ve got you here at my mercy."

Buffy smiled weakly again. "Buffy Summers. I kinda have issues with hospitals, and doctors..."

"Well, as long as you try to behave we’ll try to be as easy on you as possible. Let’s work on that attitude, hey?"

Buffy mumbled something but the undoubtedly witty retort was lost as she drifted off to sleep again.

"Oh, Buffy we need your consent…." Maggie’s sentence drifted off when she saw there was no point going on. They needed to run some scans to ensure that Buffy hadn’t sustained any brain damage. Unfortunately, the only CAT scan facility in the hospital was under repair and wouldn’t be available until the morning. It was just lucky that the girl had apparently recovered so quickly and that her responses all seemed fine. There didn’t seem to be too much danger in waiting a few hours to run the necessary tests.

Maggie Doyle resumed her review of the chart. Buffy had been brought in by an unknown girl, ‘suspected gang member’, at about 12:45 am. She raised an eyebrow at the use of the term "gang member". The concept of a gang in Sunnydale struck her as vaguely ludicrous. The other girl had taken off without providing any information, leaving them with one of the most interesting cases, in terms of speed of patient recovery, that Maggie had ever seen.

Doctor Maggie Doyle was only a recent arrival to Sunnydale. She was a Chicago native but was here looking at a job opportunity. Maggie would soon be finishing up her current position and was seriously considering a change in locality following a nasty case of harassment. The Sunnydale offer would make her one of the most senior doctors in their emergency department. Which had sounded great in theory. She’d agreed to come out here for a month trial. Unfortunately, Sunnydale ER was, largely, boring. Most of the ambulances, which pulled up out the front with sirens blaring, contained DOAs. Sure, the residents of Sunnydale generally died in a spectacular fashion, you had to give them credit for that. But they all did it before anyone got the chance to save them. Maggie was beginning to forget that emergency medicine was about more than confirming that a person had no pulse and sewing up drunk guys who had put their hands through glass panels. Buffy Summers was the first interesting live patient who had turned up during the entire two weeks she’d been there. That was why Maggie kept a close eye on Buffy all night. That, and the fact that there was little else for her to do, despite the fact that she was the only doctor in the ER.

******

Buffy didn’t come around again till morning. This time she woke calmly and tried to stretch her arms. The first thing she noticed was that her arms were tied down. She tested her legs and found a similar restriction on her movement. The next thing the girl noticed was the resistance of the drip. It was not a nice sensation. Buffy looked around her and felt a very familiar panic arise when she recognised that she was in a hospital room. The drowsy girl felt an overwhelming need to get out. Just to get up and run, away from this place which, she knew on instinct, she hated and feared. Buffy tugged with frustration at the restraint on her right arm. And was more than mildly surprised when it snapped under the force of the upward pressure from her wrist. She tried to lift her head from the pillow but was overcome by dizziness. What was going on here? Buffy’s head hurt. As she rubbed it she tried to remember why she was in hospital. How she’d gotten here. Anything. But she came up blank. Buffy felt the panic grow until it was verging on outright hysteria.

The door to her room opened and a nurse pushing a food tray wandered in cautiously. Buffy immediately dropped her hand down to her side, not wanting the intruder to tie it down again more firmly. The tall blonde man smiled in a way that seemed to the girl to be vaguely menacing.

"Well, Dr Doyle said you’d wake up soon. None of us believed her, head injury like that. Feel up to breakfast?" The man chattered annoyingly from the time the door opened to the instant it closed again behindhim.

Buffy’s right hand leaped forward and grabbed tightly the hand of the male nurse who was now busily checking her drips. "What the hell am I doing here? Take this out and let me go." She made a vain effort to rise once more. Her frustration almost reached breaking point when she found she could barely lift her head off thepillow.

The nurse attempted to calm her, at the same time desperately trying to free his arm from her clawing fingers. "You have a skull fracture. Remember? Last night you told the doctor that a crate fell on yourhead."

Buffy tried to remember this. She couldn’t. Not concretely, anyway. Everything was unpleasantly fuzzy. "You’re lying. You’ve drugged me. Let me go. You can’t keep me here." Her grip on the man’s arm was now augmented by her left hand which she had similarly broken free. Her concentration on the pressure she was applying was broken when the door opened again and a young manburst in.

"Buffy!" He rushed over to the bed and hugged the girl as best he could. The nurse took advantage of this distraction to remove his arm from her grasp. Buffy couldn’t respond to the new arrival with anything more than a confused look. "Are you okay? What happened? Faith left a note at the library to say you were here but we didn’t get back there till a few minutes ago. Giles is picking up Willow and your mother, they should be here soon. So, are you okay?"

Buffy looked at him warily. She narrowed her eyes and held her hands in front of her in a defensive position."Who are you?"

"Come on, Buffster. Like you could forget your most invaluable study buddy? You know me. Xander, boy wonder." His voice changed from bemused to genuinely shocked. His eyes were pleading with her for some kind of recognition. But nothing he had said meant anything to her. Instead she returned her attention to the nurse. He was standing at the side of the bed, rubbing his wrist where the imprints of her fingers could still be seen.

"I don’t know what you’ve done to me. But I’m about to make you pay." Her right fist flew up and caught the nurse right on the point of the jaw, knocking both him and the IV stand to the floor. Unfortunately for Buffy, her head still felt like a large concrete block, preventing her from taking the chance to escape. The guy called Xander reached out and grabbed Buffy’s left arm, which was twisting the nurse’s ear to ensure that he could not get off the floor.

"Hey, Buffy. Officially not funny. I know you have hospital issues but it’s not right to take them out on the poor minions of the medicinal juggernaut."

Buffy slowly turned her head over to look at him again. She released the nurse and the blond man sprang to his feet.

"I know you?" He nodded slowly, seemingly willing her to a full return of memory. In the next instant footsteps were running in from everywhere. Nurses from all over the ward were responding to the commotion. The room was full of loud and confusing voices and unfamiliar faces. There was a lot of shouting and pointing which Buffy couldn’t keep up with. In the midst of all this the girl felt a sharp pain in her arm. She was suddenly very tired. The last thing she noticed before she drifted off was a large hand gently taking her own.

******

Faith arrived back at the hospital in the early hours of the morning. After Buffy had pushed Faith out of the way of the crate the blonde slayer had taken its full force on her skull with a sickening crunch. Faith had been about to try and lift the crate from off her friend when she had been confronted by the swarm of vamps. She’d fought them with a furious energy, a gear above anything she’d ever felt before. During the entire confrontation she’d made sure that she kept the unconscious Buffy within her line of sight. When Trick had moved in on the blonde slayer Faith had reacted immediately. She went after him with all she had left, driving the stake into his chest with maximum force. To her way of thinking there was nothing lower than a vamp who would only come after a slayer after rendering her unconscious. She couldn’t respect that one bit.

Eventually, all that was left of their attackers were numerous piles of dust. Faith had dragged the crate off the other slayer and attempted to rouse her. Buffy had moaned slightly but was otherwise unresponsive. Faith’s heart was running at warp speed and she felt like she was about to throw up. Buffy’s beautiful face was covered in blood which flowed from a huge gash on her forehead. Faith was seriously wigged by the amount of blood Buffy was losing from cuts apparently all over her body. The inexperienced slayer had nearly panicked. She had nearly frozen. Only the knowledge that Buffy needed her, now, had kept her operating. Faith had known that she had to do this. She couldn’t let Buffy down again.

After weighing up the dangers of spinal injury Faith decided that moving Buffy was the only option. It was the small trickle of blood which was coming out of Buffy’s ear which had decided the issue. The badly injured girl needed help, right now. Faith gently cradled her friend and hurried to the hospital as quickly as she could, trying desperately not to shake her load around too much in the process. Once there she’d made sure Buffy was going to be taken care of. Then shetook off.

Not out of Sunnydale. Recent events had changed everything. In a flash, everything she’d done wrong, everything she’d repressed, filled her consciousness. Not just the killing, though her remorse for that was stronger than ever. But how much she had hurt Buffy. How much she had hurt, she realised now, the only person who cared about her at all. And the only person she had ever loved. The intensity of the feelings which had flooded Faith as she saw Buffy lying helpless under the crate was truly a revelation. Fuck denial. She wasn’t going to do that shit anymore. Now she was going to make it up to B. Everything.

She’d gone straight from the hospital to the library, which had been totally abandoned. "They’re probably all out looking for little old homicidal me", she had thought ruefully. Faith had left a note and scooted over to Buffy’s house, which had been just as big a bust. Faith had kicked a wooden post on the porch in frustration, taking a large chunk of it with her on her boot. The dark-haired slayer hadn’t left a note there. Simply because there wasn’t paper around, and she wasn’t the type to carry a notebook around at all times. She wasn’t Willow. That thought was followed by an immediate mental chastisement for slipping so easily back into her old bitterness. Faith knew she wasn’t going to get far with Buffy if she couldn’t get along with her stupid friends.

Now she was back at the hospital, after just over an hour away. Faith slipped quietly through the quiet corridors until she found the nurse’s lounge. There she helped herself to a spare uniform with a minimum of fuss. She even took the time to crack the code of the locker, rather than just pulling it open as she had been sorely tempted to do. With her new, slightly too tight, outfit Faith was able to pass uninhibited through the hospital, where security was as lax as she’d come to expect from the blissfully ignorant residents of the Hellmouth. The attractive girl simply hurried about efficiently, like lives were at stake with every instant that the specimen jar of water she carried in front of her remained in her possession. No one so much as raised an eyebrow, though a few doctors managed to spare a leer for the new nurse with the stunning figure.

Faith didn’t go into Buffy’s room. Couldn’t work up the nerve. She didn’t want to risk distressing Buffy. Instead she was outside, pretending to clean the hall, when Buffy woke during the night. Riveted, she watched the doctor talk to her friend affectionately. Faith had been jealous to see the doctor comforting Buffy, having to restrain herself from running into the room and holding the other slayer in her arms. And never letting go. Finally the doctor had emerged from the room and went to check the board of patients in the nurse’s station. Faith approached her casually.

"The skull fracture woke up already?" She asked, feigning casualinterest.

"Yeah. Amazing, huh? Darn thing was cracked in about 5 differentplaces."

"Is she okay?" The young slayer’s heart was in her mouth.

"Seems to be... could still be some bruising of the brain. We can’t get any scans done till early in the morning. She’s some girl, though."

"Tell me about it." It was a heartfelt statement. But entirely inappropriate. The doctor suddenly looked at the nurse with real interest.

"You know her?"

"What? Oh, umm, no I just meant that she seems to be pretty strong and all. Must be to recover that quickly." Faith flashed what she hoped was a winning smile to distract the doctor from her slip of the tongue. Maggie just nodded her agreement, continuing to regard the nurse beside her with some interest. Faith brandished her specimen jar and beat a hasty retreat. "I’d better get upstairs before they put out a missing person alert."

In the bathroom a few moments later Faith had almost felt tempted, for the first time in her life, to say a prayer of thanks to whatever force had saved Buffy. The girl had never felt such relief. She couldn’t have handled it if Buffy had died because of her. Now she could move forward. Concentrate on making things between them okay. The instinctive slayer had no idea how she was going to achieve a new start with Buffy. But, no matter what it took, she was going to make ithers.

By this time it was almost light. Faith retrieved her own clothes and looked at them with distaste. They were covered in blood. Buffy’s blood. But she had put them on anyway. She had no choice. The nurse’s uniform was way too impractical for where she was going. The others were surely going to get here soon and she didn’t want to face them just yet, particularly without Buffy on her side. She wanted to be out of sight, without losing sight of B. And she had worked out the way to do it. She stood on the toilet and reached up to open the entrance to the vent system in the roof above her. It was screwed on tightly but the powerful brunette had removed it with one pull. She hauled herself up into the tunnel and followed the route she’d earlier memorised in the corridors. She didn’t look out any of the vents until she reached her target. Directly above Buffy’s bed. Where she could see and hear everything that went on and be within easy distance if action was needed. If her limbs were still responsive.

All day Faith lay in the roof above Buffy’s bed, watching. Almost everyone even remotely connected to the Scooby Gang drifted in, all shaken into silence by the sight of the helpless slayer. Giles and Willow had followed shortly after Xander’s arrival. Shortly after Buffy had been sedated. The young slayer had had to restrain herself from cheering Buffy on when she took on that nurse. That had almost been as classic as Xander’s obvious distress at his friend’s inability to recognize him. Wicked funny stuff. But when that bastard nurse had pumped the drugs into Buffy’s arm Faith had come close to jumping down and finishing the job the other slayer had started. Of course, the new Faith had restrained herself. Later it struck Faith to be worried about the implications of this loss of memory for Buffy’s health. A slayer with amnesia. This was terrible, a disaster. But, Faith couldn’t help but think, the situation had certain potential for herself.

Joyce was apparently away at a conference in Boston but Willow told the others that Buffy’s mother was going to get on the first flight she could. Quite early in the morning they left a message for Buffy’s father but Faith didn’t hear him mentioned again. Even Cordelia made an appearance around lunch time, bearing gifts of make-up.

"Believe me, she’s going to want this if she gets her brain back. Hospital lightning was not designed to flatter." Despite this, the social queen had appeared genuinely upset. Though she managed to express it through tactless comments about how her social life was likely to suffer if Buffy was not around to keep the streets relatively clear of undead vermin. This plight did not attract much sympathy from the others. Or from Faith, who resented the fact that her own abilities were so easily forgotten. However, Cordelia was forgiven when she managed to inadvertently do all those present a favor by distracting the attention of the official watcher.

Wesley had popped up at the unconscious slayer’s bedside shortly before noon. The first thing he did upon arriving at the hospital, however, was to lecture Giles for not calling him sooner. Faith felt like throttling Giles for calling the new watcher at all. As soon as he saw Buffy’s condition the inexperienced Englishman had excused himself to make numerous "confidential" calls from the public phone down the hall, presumably to the Watcher’s Council. Following one of these calls he returned bearing the Council’s take on the situation.

"If Buffy’s memory does not return, or if she inadvertently reveals her status as the slayer, it may be necessary to create the illusion that she is mad, until the Council can take her to a more secure location for reconditioning. If no improvements are made fairly quickly, steps may be required to ensure that a new slayer is called."

Following this pronouncement the watcher lifted his chin and attempted to enforce his authority on the Scooby Gang. Faith bristled and clenched her fists. She wasn’t the only one. Surprisingly, the concept of putting Buffy down in the interests of the greater good did not receive wide-spread acceptance. Even Cordelia only managed to rise a polite smile. Giles rose and took the younger man by the arm. He hauled Wesley out of the room and into the corridor.

Faith was torn. She could tell that the confrontation was going to be a good one. But she didn’t want to leave her post. A second of indecision was resolved by the sound of a yelp from Wesley. Faith had to see this. As quietly as she could she crawled along the tunnel took the first left then the next left and found a position giving her a view of the happenings in the hallway. Giles had hold of the younger man by the collar of his tweed jacket. Apparently the earlier yelp was a result of the older watcher slamming his compatriot against the wall.

Now he held Wesley there and laid down the law. "Look, you little prat, I don’t give a rat’s ass if the Council thinks a heart is a liability for this job. You are not going to treat Buffy like some kind of tool to be discarded once she may no longer be useful. That is a wonderful young woman in there and she has done more good in her short life than you could ever hope to do if you live two centuries. What’s more, her friends have sacrificed a lot to help her. I would strongly advise you to treat them all with the respect they deserved."

Wesley had only wheezed in reply as he tried to get air into his lungs. He was experiencing difficulty in doing this because Giles’ forearm was jammed into his windpipe. The pathetic weasel gave up trying to speak and just nodded to indicate that he would behave himself.

"Good." Giles released the smaller watcher and walked back into the room without looking at him again. Wesley had spent quite some time recovering. As she returned to her post Faith was pretty stoked she hadn’t missed that.

Wesley was largely silent after that, occasionally rubbing his neck and coughing. Nevertheless, everyone had released a not-so-subtle sigh of relief when Cordy had suggested that the two of them go for coffee. Even the heavily sedated Buffy had stirred slightly and murmured approval. The weirdness of Cordy and Wesley was a relatively mild mental challenge compared to the physical presence of the Watcher at this point in time. The afternoon had dragged on after that. Faith was wicked hungry but she didn’t want to risk running into any of Buffy’s visitors in the hallways while on a food run. Instead she amused herself by formulating rather far-fetched plans for achieving her new start. Throughout the day she’d been continually surprised by how cut everyone was. Even Oz, his face hidden from the view of all but Faith as he comforted a hysterical Willow, had let tears flow freely down his cheeks. In her own rush of feelings for the slayer she’d forgotten how easily Buffy could capture almost anyone’s heart. Even that brunette doctor who had just arrived looked like she’d fallen for her.

******

Finally, Xander was left alone with Buffy. Giles had headed off to research possible memory restoration techniques, medical or otherwise. Willow had gone with him. Oz, meanwhile, had volunteered to take his van out, trawling the streets for any sign of Faith. They were keen to find her in the hope that she could shed some light on what had happened to Buffy. As well as the fact that they were a little concerned about what she might be up to. None of them had left the hospital until they had quadruple checked with the staff that Buffy would not wake again that evening. Each time they had been told much the same thing.

"The nurses were… overly cautious with the tranquillizers. She’ll be out for at least 24 hours." Buffy had not provided any evidence to the contrary, offering no more than the occasional mumbling and restless shifting all day. Xander sat in the falling dusk, holding her hand and telling the stories of all they had done. He was trying not to think about how often he’d had to do this for his closest friends. It was a truly depressing thought.

I know coma patients are supposed to hear you but I’m not sure if that works for the over-medicated." Xander stood up immediately in reaction to the voice, his suspicions not entirely quieted by the sight of the woman in the doctor’s coat. She grinned at him. "Doctor Doyle. Maggie. I saw her when she came in last night. I heard she’s got amnesia."

"I’m Xander. How long will it last?" Maggie shrugged non-commitally. She turned her attention to Buffy’s chart, occasionally looking up at the patient with an affectionate look.

"So, are you her boyfriend?" She looked at him with mild curiosity.

"Uh, no. No, we’re just friends. Her boyf… well, another of her friends will probably come by soon." Xander looked out the window. The sun was just dipping below the horizon. Surely Angel wouldn’t be too far away.

"But surely... I mean... What if she wakes up? And there’s no one here? She could do some real damage to this place, you know."

"I don’t doubt it. I heard what she got up to this morning." Maggie again looked down at the chart in front of her. She shook her head in disbelief once more. "They’ve put enough drugs in her to knock an elephant out. Nothing short of a bomb going off in here will wake her up before morning."

"But, you don’t understand. She’s not... I mean... she has a really high threshold for medication." Xander stumbled as he tried to think of reasons to justify an extension of his stay.

"Not to mention one stunner of a recovery rate. Believe me, I noticed. But I can’t let you stay. But don’t worry. I’ll keep a close eye on her. I’ll probably be in here most of the night." Maggie reached out a hand to pat his arm in reassurance.

"But.."

"Okay, patience is up. I know it sucks but I’m on trial here and it’s not worth my ass to bend the rules." She walked around to stand next to Xander and stood next to him, putting her hand on his as it held Buffy’s. "I swear, I’ll look after her."

Xander nodded grudgingly. He knew that the ‘no visitors’ rule had zero chance of keeping those who really wanted to from seeing the slayer. He looked down at Buffy once more before bending down and whispering inher ear. "Just remember we need you. Love you."

Maggie led him out of the room and closed the door firmly behind him.

******

When the bumbling oaf, finally, relinquished his hold on Buffy’s hand and left for the night, Faith began to make her way out of the vent. Which was not an easy task considering that parts of her body she’d hardly even known existed were painfully numb after a whole day in such close confinement. It was this which caused her to slip from her usual high standards of stealth. She sat up too quickly and thumped her head on the roof of the vent tunnel with not inconsiderable force. A hollow metal thunk echoed through the tunnel.

"Oh, shit. Fucking hell." Faith mouthed silently, with considerable feeling, as she rubbed her head, tentatively feeling the lump which was already swelling beneath her thick hair. She snuck a peak back down into the room below to see the brunette doctor looking up at the roof, apparently listening carefully. Faith froze.

******

Maggie kept looking up. She’d done quite a bit of hunting in her time and she knew that she’d heard something quite large moving around in the vent. Not that she felt particularly inclined to do anything about it. Although she did have a pistol back at her motel that would be sure to put a scare into that rat. She grinned to herself and returned her attention to Buffy. Who was stirring. The girl’s eyes openedsuddenly.

"What the..?" Buffy looked up at the concerned face hovering over her. Maggie had, almost unconsciously, reached out a hand to stroke Buffy’s blonde locks reassuringly."Faith?"

"That’s gratitude for you." Maggie joked. "Maggie Doyle, remember? Your doctor in residence."

"Sorry, you look like someone.think I know. At least, I thought for a second I knew someone who I think looks a little like you... and my head really hurts."

"I’m gonna have to prescribe a limit on that thinking. Still can’t remember much?"

Buffy shook her head, wrinkling her forehead in the attempt to do so. "How long is this going to last? ‘Cause, to be frank, it’s really less of a blast and more of a big, painful, not-blast."

"Sorry." And she genuinely was. "Could come back anytime. Tomorrow, the next day... or longer."

"I could never get my memory back, right?" Maggie really wanted to say something to get that scared look off her patient’s face. But there wasn’t anything she could say.

"Let’s not get pessimistic. You can recall some things, right?"

"Well, I know I’m Buffy." She paused and thought hard. "And you’re Maggie."

Well, it’s a start, at least." Maggie picked up a photo Buffy’s friend had brought in. It showed a smiling Buffy with Xander and another girl, apparently picnicking. "You remember these guys? They were here with some others today. This dude" she pointed to Xander "didn’t want to leave."

"That’s...Xander, right?"

"You remember him?" Maggie was suddenly excited.

"He was bugging me this morning." Buffy closed her eyes again.

"Oh." The doctor couldn’t keep the disappointment out of her voice. The girl’s eyes flicked open once more.

"Say sorry to that nurse for me, by the way." Buffy said, suddenly remembering the damage she’d done earlier that day.

"Heard you really socked him one. Way to go, girl." Maggie gave Buffy a very approving grin.

"But, he didn’t do anything wrong." Buffy protested.

"Not to you, but he’s been bugging me to go out with him ever since I got to this hell hole." The nurse, Michael, had been more than overly insistent with his affections.

"Are you new here?" Buffy paused for a moment before continuing with a somewhat more important question. "Where is here anyway?"

"Here is Sunnydale, California. I’m just passing through, I think. I’m looking for a new home base." Maggie fiddled with Buffy’s IV bag. The doctor was overdue to do her rounds. Buffy closed her eyes as yet another wave of frustration washed over her.

"This sucks something fierce."

"Shhh, I know. Just keep believing that things will get better." Maggie reached out and wiped away the single tear which had appeared on Buffy’s cheek. Buffy opened her eyes and smiled her thanks. She reached up and took Maggies’s hand in her own.

"Stay here. It’s so lonely. But I feel better when I’m talking to you." Maggie felt entirely disarmed by the green eyes looking up at her, pleading almost as wrenchingly as Buffy’s voice. She felt a slight heat rise in her cheeks. There was no denying Buffy was irresistible. But it was wrong for her to be feeling for her patient the way she was starting to feel about Buffy. Wrong, wrong and a bit more wrong.

"Sure" she said gently as she disengaged her hand from Buffy’s firm grasp. "But first, I gotta go do my job. I’ll do a quick round and come back and we’ll talk, okay?"

Buffy nodded her thanks.

"And, as a bonus incentive for you to stay awake, I’ll see if I can rustle you up something decent to eat. You must be starving. Back soon."

Maggie hurried out of the room, pausing slowly in the hallway to regain her doctorly composure.

******

Faith had remained stock still ever since Buffy had spoken her name. This was an amazing development. Buffy remembered her, at least a little. Surely that could only mean... Faith didn’t let herself get too carried away with what it meant. But she wanted to get down into that room. As soon as that doctor with the super hearing finally left, Faith shuffled off down the tunnel as fast as she could. She had to get in to see Buffy while the slayer was still alone.

Faith pulled herself quickly back along the vent until she was once again above the toilet cubicle where she had gained access to the roof. She was out of the ceiling and into the nurse’s uniform faster than humanly possible. Not that she thought much of that kind of thing anymore. When she’d first been called, she’d loved to test what she could do. How fast and how far she could run. Whether she could scale the outside of an apartment block and make it all the way to the roof. When she hit a guy, how long he would stay down. It’d been a blast. Now it was just who she was.

She hurried down the corridor, still adjusting the uniform to provide some decent coverage of her behind. When she reached the door of Buffy’s room she paused and peered in through the glass panel. Buffy was awake and alone. Faith took a deep breath and a tight hold of the door handle. She pulled it open and swaggered into the room on a wing and a prayer. A few seconds later, without further hesitation, she was at Buffy’s bedside and holding Buffy’s hand in her own.

"B. You’re giving everyone one hell of a scare, girlfriend." Faith reached out her other hand and gently touched the large gash on the blonde’s forehead. "So, you about ready to motor? I’m taking a wild guess that you’re not having much fun here." Buffy’s voice was uncertain but her eyes were shining with excitement. And she said exactly what Faith was dying to hear.

"You’re...Faith?" Faith’s heart somersaulted.

"The one and only. Guess it takes a special effort to stick in your memory, hey?"

"We’re...friends, aren’t we?"

"Solid buds, B. You and me, all the way." Buffy smiled and the taller slayer could almost see the tension flow out of her body for the first time since she’d come around that morning. She had to make sure of one more thing. "B, this is probably going to sound crazy, but just humour me. Have you got any strong feelings about vampires?"

"Vampires..." Buffy fleetingly closed her eyes and concentrated. "Should I?"

Faith’s grinned broadened further. "Nah, not at all. We’ll get you a new Halloween costume, hey?" Buffy sighed wearily.

"Will you help me get out of here?" she asked Faith. "I feel like I’m going crazy."Buffy looked at Faith, her eyes pleading.

"You’d better believe it, girl. We’re gonna leave this place for dust. But first, I just gotta lay down some groundwork. Nothing too major, just some administrative hassles." She grinned down. "Think you can stand it for one more day?"

"Will you stay here? Stay with me."

"Love to, B. But I really can’t. It’s hard to explain right now. But, believe me, I’m gonna get you away from all this. You trust me?" Buffy nodded solemnly. Still holding tightly onto Faith’s hand. "I’d better take off before that doctor gets back. She’ll be wicked pissed if she finds me here. Just hang tough for one more day, and I’ll be back for you as soon as I can..."

"I can trust you..." Buffy said drowsily, as she started to drift off to sleep once more.

"Absolutely. And remember, no matter what anyone tells you, I’ll never hurt you, Buffy."With that final vow Faith leant over and gently kissed Buffy’s forehead, barely making contact. She gave her hand one last squeeze and turned to leave the room. Just as she reached the door, it opened.

******

A dark-haired nurse was leaning over her patient’s bed when Maggie returned from her rounds. She opened the door and hurried in, worried that the incompetent staff were doing something else to jeopardise Buffy’s recovery.

"What’s up? Did she crash?" Maggie rushed over to the bed where Buffy seemed fine, even offering her a weak smile. She turned back to the nurse, demanding an explanation with her glare.

"No, no. Everything’s five... uh, fine. I was just checking if she was okay to be moved upstairs. I’m from ICU."

"About damn time. I thought you lot didn’t have beds." Maggie was relieved that her pressure on those upstairs had finally secured the care Buffy needed. Though she couldn’t help being a little disappointed that this intriguing patient would no longer be under hercare.

"We’ve got one opening in the morning. Her vitals seem to be fine so..."

Maggie’s natural caution made her suspicious of this nurse. "Which doctor sent you again?"

"Doctor Finlay. And she’ll be wanting the report yesterday so I’d better get back up there. She’s a total dragon."

Maggie nodded sympathetically. She had no idea who any of the doctors in the ICU were. The nurse seemed genuine enough, though, and she’d shown no sign of hesitation. She made a mental note to double check later in her shift. "Have a good night then." She dismissed the nurse, returning her attention to Buffy. "How you doing? Still awake?"

"Faith’s here. She’s going to help me out." Buffy informed her doctor friend conspiratorially. The nurse, who had been just about to leave, spun around immediately atthis.

"Uh, Doctor... Doyle?" Maggie looked up at the young woman, annoyed by her continued presence.

"Can I speak to you for a second?" the nurse said, indicating with a move of her head that she wanted to speak to the doctor in the hall. Maggie nodded reluctantly, reassured Buffy that they’d be back soon and moved into the hallway to hear what the nurse had to say.

The nurse spoke in hushed tones. "I think your patient may be confused. The whole time I was in there she kept talking to me like she knew me. Calling me ‘Faith’ and asking me to take her away. You might want to run some more...umm...tests orsomething."

Maggie considered the possibility that there had been some substantial damage to her patient’s brain with some alarm. It didn’t seem all that likely. Buffy had seemed perfectly rational, in spite of her memory loss, until now. She decided to order another CAT scan first thing in the morning, though, just to double check that everything was still okay. Considerable damage could have resulted from the foolish behaviour of the nurses this morning. It was basic stuff, not to sedate a head injury. If they’d set back her recovery in any way Maggie was going to make sure that those responsible were punished. ‘Though,’ she thought ‘those kind of mistakes are probably why they’re here in Sunnydale in the first place. This place sure bears a close resemblance to my idea of punishment. And it’s too damn hot.’

"I’m sure she’s just a little shaken up." She said to the nurse who was regarding her with mild interest. "Could be shock. But thanks for telling me, Ms... Sorry, what was your name again?"

"Oh, I’m Georgia Harrington. But you can call me George." The beautiful dark-haired nurse offered the doctor her hand and a flirtatious smile. Maggie was a little taken aback.

"Hi George, I’m Maggie. Okay, well. Hopefully I’ll see you around." The nurse flashed another smile.

"Sure come up and visit any time." She retrieved her hand, winked at Maggie and swaggered off down the hall. Maggie couldn’t help but sneak a look at the retreating form before she headed back into Buffy’s room.

‘At least the residents of Sunnydale have something to offer’ she thought to herself, grinning.

******

Faith abandoned the uniform and headed out of the hospital feeling an almost palpable tingle of happiness. When she’d been stuck up in the vent she’d had a lot of time to think. Now a wild dream about possibilities had become an achievable plan. And the pieces were starting to fall into place. That had to make a girl feel good. She was going to get B, and herself, a happy ending... even if she had to play every last person in this damn town to do it.

Just as she was marvelling at the clarity of the night sky, a very large raincloud formed. Large enough to provide a very real threat to the continuance of her parade. Angel. He was hurrying towards the hospital, as fast as he could while maintaining his brooding visage. Faith knew he could screw up her plan significantly. Hugely. She didn’t want to know if Buffy would remember Angel. Mainly because she strongly suspected that she would. The best way, she figured, to keep from finding out was to keep himwell away.

"Hey there, big guy." Faith hurried up to the vampire who had stopped walking and was now regarding her warily.

"Faith! What the hell are you playing at? Giles has had everyone out looking for you all day."

‘Not strictly true…’ she thought bitterly, knowing very well that the Scooby Gang had spent the day mooning around Buffy’s bedside. Faith kept this observation to herself and put on her very best emotionally distraught voice. "I...I just couldn’t face them. The stuff with Buffy, after all that other stuff... I just needed some time to think. And I know now that... what I need to do." She lifted her hand to her mouth and began to sob.

"Hey, it’s okay. Buffy’s going to be all right, and so are you."

"But this memory thing..." Faith began.

"We’ve been through worse. She’s been through worse. Smart money says she’ll be back to normal within the week. It’ll be a good rest forher."

Not if I can help it,’ thought Faith with an internal wicked grin. Out loud she offered, "It’s all my fault. They were trying to kill me. She saved me." She began sobbing wildly now, pausing briefly to sneak a look at Angel. He had on his brooding, ‘vampire with feelings’ look of understanding. It almost made her ill. The last thing she wanted was for him to understand. Then he started to come closer to her, to better offercomfort. ‘Damn, I must be getting shit hot at this emotional venting routine.’ She congratulated herself.

"Oh, Angel" Faith was getting a little hammy now. "I’ve just been so wrong. Everything that’s gone down... I’ve stuffed it up badly. I dealt all wrong. And B stood by me through it all. It just sucks that this is what she gets in return."

"Don’t worry, Faith. She’s not one to hold grudges. You obviously came through for her when she needed it. You’re on the right track now, just keep on working at it and you’ll be okay."

‘Hmmm, good advice, thanks buddy.’ She was on the right track. Except it wasn’t taking her where he thought it was. It was a freeway in the opposite direction. "Thanks Angel. I’ll do my best." Angel smiled at her. He took her hand and started towards the hospital once more.

"C’mon, let’s go see how Buffy is." Faith didn’t move. Angel turned around with a questioning expression.

"You know… visiting hours are really, really over. As in finished." She spoke quickly. He looked at her quizzically. "I know I’m not usually one for rules and shit like that but… well, the new me. And besides, they’re really strict about it. Maybe it’d be better if you tried to come in the day. I could get a key and open all the basement doors or whatever." Angel regarded her suspiciously for a moment. He really hoped that she wasn’t up to something. He dropped her hand.

"Obviously you’re not comfortable with this. But I’m going in there. Maybe it’d be better if you went to see Giles and the new watcher anyway. They’re really worried about you."

Afraid I’ll come after them next I bet. Damn! That was a really weak excuse...surely I can come up with something better than that.’ She thought desperately. Nothing presented itself immediately. "Maybe you’re right. I’ll come back with the others in the morning. When she’s awake and all... Say ‘hi’ to the security guard with the bike chain for me."

She headed off down the footpath, doubling back a few minutes later to follow Angel into the hospital. ‘Bike chain...Bike chain.’ That throwaway had given her a great idea. She looked around the hallways for a phone. And sighed when she realised she’d have to put that damn uniform on again.

******

Angel had no idea what Faith had been talking about. The security in this place was entirely non-existent. He tried not to think about the implications of her lie for Faith’s character. Instead, he slunk from corridor to corridor, looking into rooms until he found the one he was looking for. Buffy was in bed with her head elevated, fast asleep. As always in her sleep, she was breathtakingly beautiful. He stood out in the hall for a long time, not wanting to disturb her rest. Or to attract the attention of the brunette doctor who was busily going through paperwork, while vigilantly maintaining her post at her patient’s bedside. A slight noise behind him made him turn around. Two men dressed in uniforms were walking towards him, bearing down on him. He decided instantly that he wouldn’t put up a fight. He didn’t want to wake up half the hospital. It would be best to just let them escort him out of the hospital grounds. That way he could come back in five minutes later through another entrance. Angel walked towards the guards, holding his hands out in a gesture of surrender. Only when they were right in front of him did he realise that they weren’t security guards.

The police officers didn’t treat him as gently as he expected. In fact they showed very little regard for his personal comfort at all in grabbing him and throwing him face down on the floor. One used even less care in driving his knee into Angel’s back before fastening handcuffs tightly around his wrists. These were big guys and they obviously knew how to cause pain. They dragged him to his feet and hauled him down the corridor without uttering a word in response to his polite enquiries as to what the hell was going on.

Behind the desk at the nurse’s station a distraught dark-haired nurse was being comforted by several other nurses and a sleepy-looking security guard. The two officers dragged Angel up to the desk and held his head up so the nurse could see his face.

"This the guy?" The nurse looked up at him. He tried unsuccessfully to keep the shock of recognition out of his eyes.

"Oh, god... Yes. That’s the monster. He grabbed me and pulled me into the janitor’s room. Then he... You bastard!" She leapt at Angel suddenly, fiercely slapping him across the face. The others restrained her and she began to sob hysterically.

"Faith!" growled Angel, suddenly aware of just how stupid he had been to have believed in her change of heart. She looked up again at him and winked, imperceptibly to those around them.

"Take him away will you."

"Certainly ma’am. Don’t worry about him. He’s going to have a very long night. Let’s go you dirty bastard." Angel didn’t say anything else, but his left his threatening glare resting on Faith for until a wall came between them. It didn’t help his rage when her only response was a wicked quirk of her eyebrow.

******

Half an hour later, having convinced the nurses that she had recovered from the ‘attack’ and was meeting her boyfriend outside, Faith walked out of the hospital. Triumphant once again. If possible, even more happy than before. It was the kind of happiness that only knowing that Angel was likely to experience a very heavy beating could give. She smiled broadly, making a mental note to herself not to forget to pay him a visit later in the day. Angel certainly wouldn’t be disturbing her Buffy’s sleep tonight, or for a very long time. Which left Faith free to pursue her plan. The next stage was going to involve pitting emotion against experience, requiring her performance to be particularly convincing. On the plus side, Joyce Summers’s love for her daughter made her a particularly easy mark. And, hopefully, she’d give Faith a good breakfast.

******

Dawn was just breaking when a desperate knocking on her front door woke Joyce Summers from her very disturbed sleep. She’d been stuck in various airports all yesterday afternoon, and on into the evening, in her desperate dash to get to her sick daughter’s bedside. Only to be told, when she finally got to the hospital around ten that night, that no visitors were allowed. Not even mothers. Buffy was stable and she could see her in the morning. Joyce had almost screamed at the officious desk clerk but to no avail. So, instead she’d come home, spoken to Giles and then tried to get a few hours sleep. It had not been a good day.

She was still rubbing her eyes when she opened the door to see a blood-covered slayer standing forlornly on her front porch. "Faith!" The young slayer responded to the shocked cry with a heart-rending look.

"Mrs S... I’m so sorry."

Giles had told Joyce what Faith had done. He hadn’t known where the girl was now, whether she was on the run or whether she was still in town. No one had seen her since she’d taken Buffy to the hospital. Giles, however, had suspected that Faith was still around and had warned Joyce to be very careful. He’d claimed that Faith was more than likely still highly unstable. But there was no way this girl was dangerous or unstable. She was scared, ashamed and alone. Most of all alone. Joyce’s heart went out to her in that instant. She took Faith into a long, reassuring hug into which she poured all the maternal worries she’d built up since she had heard Buffy was in hospital.

"Faith, are you okay honey..."

"I’m so sorry, Mrs S. I’ve let everybody down." Faith apologised once more, not meeting Joyce’s eyes.

Joyce had been shocked when Giles had told her that Faith had killed the deputy mayor. She had wondered if she’d even known the girl at all. But now, looking at her, Joyce knew that she knew Faith better than anyone. Except maybe Buffy. There was no way her actions could have been anything but the most tragic of accidents. Faith’s behaviour afterwards had been... regrettable. But what more could have been expected from a girl with such a hard life and no parental guidance whatsoever. The responsibility for Faith’s disturbing behaviour had to be shouldered by one group of people. The Watcher’s Council.

"Come on in, sweetie. Let’s get you cleaned up."

"Actually, I was sort of hoping... Could I grab some breakfast first?" Joyce smiled. Some things didn’t change. She led Faith into the kitchen.

Joyce looked over at the girl who was now sitting at her kitchen bench fiddling uncomfortably with her fingers while waiting for the bacon and eggs which Joyce was preparing.

"How old are you, Faith?" Faith looked up defensively.

"Sixteen." She stuck out her chin defiantly, almost daring Joyce to make something of it. But Joyce wasn’t fooled by the bravado. She saw the ancient look in the girl’s eyes. Just sixteen. And left alone to deal with ... all this. Joyce shook her head in disgust and pity.

"That Watcher’s Council have a lot to answer for."

"Maybe." Faith picked up Joyce’s train of thought as easily as if she’d set it on track. "Every month they send me the cash for that motel room and, you know, food and stuff. It’s not the worst job in the world. I’ve probably got the best job out of any of the kids I grew upwith."

Joyce tried to think of a life which could possibly be worse for a child. All alone and constantly surrounded by horror and death. It was difficult to come up with anything much worse. Then Faith’s voice interrupted her contemplation.

"They could soon have a whole lot more to answer for. With what they’re thinking of doing to Buffy."

Joyce’s motherly alarm bells started ringing wildly. She put a plate loaded with bacon, eggs and toast in front of the slayer with her heart in her mouth."What do you mean? What are they going to do to her?"

"What do you mean? What are they going to do to her?" Faith attacked the breakfast with gusto. Almost as though she hadn’t eaten for a week. Joyce was reminded of that first dinner with Faith. How glad she’d been to know that there was someone to help her daughter. Now she was beginning to be ashamed of her own behaviour towards this poor girl. The truth was that neither Faith nor Buffy should have been to take on this role.

"You know about the amnesia thing, right?" Joyce nodded, on edge about what Faith was going to tell her.

"Mr Giles said her memory will probably come back in a few days. The hospital said the same thing. I hope they’re right."

"The Council are taking it pretty seriously."

"The Council? What do they have to do with this?"

"That... Wesley rang them. They gave him orders as to what he was to do with Buffy if she didn’t get it back together in the next few days. Or if she somehow gave up the game and let everyone know she was the… a slayer. He called it a contingency plan." Faith put on a mock English accent, loaded with sarcasm.

"Contingency plan? Surely that’s not necessary."

"They seem to think it is. And its the goddamn coldest thing I ever heard." Faith outlined the plan Wesley had revealed yesterday in Buffy’s hospital room. Buffy was to be sent for ‘reconditioning’ or, in a worst case scenario, steps would taken to ensure that a new slayer was called.

"A new slayer? But you’re..."

"Apparently my calling is being treated as a wrong number." Joyce couldn’t help but catch the razor sharp edge of bitterness in this comment. She looked carefully at Faith again, wondering if there wasn’t more going on than there seemed to be.

"So, how would they get this new slayer?"

"Only one way." Faith paused for effect while Joyce allowed her meaning to sink in. "And don’t think for a second that they wouldn’t do it. They don’t give a damn about tools like us."

"They’d actually kill her? Kill my daughter?" Faith nodded solemnly. Joyce was shocked at the mere suggestion. "But ... no, no. No, Mister Giles would never let that happen." She was rubbing the sides of her head where a painful tightness had suddenly appeared. Surely there was no way Rupert would go along with anything like this. Testing her was one thing...

"Giles is nobody to them. They’d just come and take her, no force spared."

"No..." Joyce sat down. Trying to comprehend an organisation which could casually talk of doing away with eighteen year old girls. "The watcher actually said this? Said they’d...?" Faith nodded again as she attacked another piece of toast. There were a few moments of silence.

"Mrs S, could I trouble you for some juice?" Joyce took a moment to answer. Then she shook herself back to attention.

"What? Oh, yeah. Sure, honey, help yourself." Faith raided the fridge and poured herself a big glass of orange juice. She stood leaning against the kitchen sink and regarded the shocked Joyce. Then, very deliberately, she spoke again.

"It’s a real possibility, you know."

"What?"

"Buffy not getting her memory back."

"Tell me the truth, how bad is it?" Joyce looked at her, pleading for someone to tell her the truth. Faith looked down into her glass for a moment before replying softly.

"Pretty bad. She hasn’t remembered anyone yet. Only her own name. Hell, she doesn’t even remember that she’s a slayer. She told me herself that she doesn’t believe in vampires."

"She...She really has no idea she’s the slayer?" Joyce seized on the significance of this immediately. Faith raised her eyebrows slightly in confirmation. "You spoke to her, and she told you?"

"Just for a second. Anyway, that’s why the Council is so keen to get their hands on her. For retraining. Or whatever." Joyce’s mind was now racing with possibilities. Her daughter, freed of her calling, able to live a normal life. A full, long, happy, normal life. If she hadn’t been acutely aware of the fact that Buffy was languishing in hospital Joyce could have whooped for joy. But Faith hadn’t finished yet.

"Angel?" It was one word designed to always get Joyce’s full attention. "What problem?"

"Well... " Faith spoke hesitantly. "I have no idea how or why... but I think he’s turned."

"Turned?"

"Lost his soul again. Climbed back onto the demon wagon. Like I said, I’m not sure how.."

"I can’t believe it." Joyce shook her head in disbelief, as if to reinforce her words. "I don’t believe her. She swore she wouldn’t..."

"Oh no. No, it wasn’t Buffy’s fault. I’m sure." Faith spoke quickly and with such conviction that Joyce couldn’t doubt her.

"Then how...?"

"No clue. A spell maybe?" Faith shrugged as though the mechanics of the change were irrelevant. Which, in a way, they were. "Anyway, point is I’m pretty sure that all this is down to him."

"Him. He did this to her?" Joyce’s voice was full of pure hatred. "What happened?"

"Buffy came down to the docks. To stop me leaving. I was getting sick of them all chaining me up. Wesley, Angel, Giles...Anyway, Buffy talked me into staying and we were just heading back together when this huge crate was dropped. Right on top of her. This whole pack of vamps attacked me, but I was smoking. Dusted them all. Except one. Angel. He stood a way off and just watched. Watched me pull the crate off and try to help her. He just walked away and left us there, that was when I knew..."

"Do the others know?"

"They wouldn’t believe me if I told them. They have issues with me at the moment."

"I’m sure they’d believe you. Besides, they need you now. You have to take over for her." Faith sighed heavily at this.

"Call in the second stringer, hey?" The bitterness surfaced again but before Joyce could comment Faith continued. "Anyway, point is, he’s gonna come after her. No doubt." The significance of this struck Joyce.

"She’s so helpless..."

"Like a baby. She’s not gonna last in this town two minutes with Angel on the loose if she’s not on the ball. Unless the sick bastard wants to draw it out..."

Joyce lost it then. She began to cry. Cry for her daughter rendered helpless and threatened from all sides. Cry for Faith, who’d known nothing but loneliness, poverty and death. Joyce could only sob at the unfairness of it all. Faith moved over to her and placed a comforting hand on her shoulder.

"Shh" the girl whispered. "I’ll take care of her."

"How can you? How can any of us?" Joyce was bitter herself now.

"I can take her away. We can all start over. If you help me."

******

Maggie Doyle was on the phone to an intern in the ICU, demanding to know why Buffy was still in the ER.

"I don’t know what you’re talking about. We’re full up. No beds." His voice was flat, evincing a total lack of interest. Maggie was pissed off. She didn’t want to hear this crap. At the very latest Buffy should have been upstairs yesterday morning. Maggie had been told there would be a bed free this morning and, dammit, she was going to make sure there was one. She didn’t care whose balls she has to twist to get it. Her boredom at being in Sunnydale ER was rapidly turning into disgust at the total disregard to patient welfare which was seemingly endemic among the staff.

"Listen. My patient was butchered by the so-called doctors down here yesterday and I’m not going to risk that happening again. Put me on to whoever’s in charge up there. Doctor Finlay, isn’t it?"

"You mean Doctor Finnigan?"

"Whatever." Maggie had been sure that that nurse had said Finlay, but she guessed that she had just misheard. It was not a real concern to her at the moment.

"She’s assisting in surgery. Could be a few hours. I can leave a message for her, if you’d like."

Maggie rubbed the side of her head where a migraine was rapidly forming. She’d felt the first twinges about half an hour ago when, taking Buffy for a precautionary follow-up CAT scan, the young doctor had learned that there had never been an initial test. Someone had clearly recorded on Buffy’s chart that a CAT scan had come up clear. But the technician had been insistent. No record of any tests on head injuries during the last week. This fact, combined with someone unbelievably sedating her patient yesterday morning, had put Maggie on the warpath.

"Look, you little pissant. I don’t care what you have to do. But I’m coming up there with her in 20 minutes and if there isn’t something ready... well, I guarantee you that it’s not going to pleasant."

"But..."

Maggie hung up. She dropped her head down on the desk in front of her. This place was hell. And she’d thought things had been bad in Chicago. Despite all the crap from Romano, at least she’d been sure that County had been in the business of helping sick people get better. She had no idea what was motivating the operation of Sunnydale Hospital. The brunette looked up suddenly when a hand touched her shoulder gently. A middle-aged blonde nurse was standing over her holding a cup of coffee.

"Hard night?" she asked, holding out the cup which Maggie took gratefully.

"Here?" The nurse snorted. "You’ve got to be kidding."

"Must be something personal." Maggie took her cup of coffee and wandered back down the hall towards Buffy’s room.

******

Buffy was still sleepy. But her head was clearing a little. She’d decided to stop talking to Maggie about Faith and the planned rescue. She realized now that Maggie would probably try to stop them. Luckily, although she’d nodded along and feigned interest in her patient’s excitement, Buffy had sensed that the doctor had just been humoring her. At first, this realization had merely puzzled Buffy. She’d clearly seen Maggie talking to her friend. How could she not believe in Faith? Gradually, however, her confusion had turned into concern. Maybe Buffy hadn’t seen Faith at all. Maybe she’d dreamed the whole thing. Maybe there wasn’t such a person. The injured girl tried hard to remember Faith. What she had looked like, what she had said. But her thoughts refused to solidify. Her whole head felt furry. All she was holding onto was the other girl’s promise. She didn’t want to think about what she was going to do if her friend didn’t come through.

All this was still running through Buffy’s head when the door to her room opened. She hadn’t been able to sleep much the night before, only managing brief naps between the chapters of Maggie’s life story. So it took a while for her eyes to focus. But when they did she was a little surprised to see the nurse from yesterday morning coming towards her. At least she thought he looked familiar, he was sporting several stitches on his chin. Buffy thought she'd better try to be nice.

"Morning. Glad to see I didn’t do any permanent damage." The nurse didn’t make any response beyond a sullen grunt. He started to mess with her IV stand. Every few seconds he looked over his shoulder at the door. Then he reached into his pocket and pulled out a syringe of frightening dimensions.

"Hey, what are you doing?" Buffy tried to shift so that she could get a better view but her head was still too heavy.

She didn’t see the back handed slap coming. The first thing she felt was an absolutely unbearable agony flooding through her jaw. Seconds later his warm breath was at her ear.

"Now this time, be a good girl and die. Then I can finally get my money." Buffy’s eyes were tightly screwed shut in an attempt to block out the pain. It didn’t stop tiny jets of fire shooting up her jaw spreading into every part of her skull. But she still had some fight left in her. She opened her mouth and let out an almighty yell, at the same time raising her arms to block the blow to the head which she instinctively knew would follow. And follow it did. Her efforts at defense, however, were successful and his fist struck her forearm painfully but without causing serious harm. Buffy wasn’t sure which of them was more surprised. Despite her state of serious pain, the girl managed another cry for help. It was cut short when the nurse placed a large moist hand firmly over her mouth. The after-effects of the punch to her jaw meant that efforts to dissuade him from this course of action through the use of her teeth were fruitless. Instead Buffy could only squirm ineffectually as he used the hand that wasn’t jammed halfway down her throat to slip the needle of the syringe into her thigh. He gloated down at her as he began to depress the plunger. At that instant the door flew open. The cold feeling of the liquid sinking into her leg stopped. The blond nurse let go of the syringe, leaving it hanging sickeningly out of Buffy’s leg, and turned to see who had disturbed him. But the numb feeling was already seeping into her head. Just before the girl passed out she caught sight of a dark-haired woman effectively dealing with the nurse. A heavily booted foot planted itself forcefully into his stomach. Faith? Maggie? It didn’t matter. As Buffy gave in to her body’s demand that she pass out she’d knew she’d be safe now.

******

"I wanna take you on a roller coaster..."

Faith was singing, or at least belting out the words of a song in the form of something resembling its tune, in the shower. It was the best way, she found, to deal with anxiety. Not that her plan wasn’t going along at top speed. With the one regretful mistake of not giving Angel a taste of wood everything was going along swimmingly. She hoped that, with a bit of luck, that mistake wouldn’t come back to sting her now that her plan was reaching its climax. If everything didn’t go exactly right Faith would be screwed. She’d gambled everything on this. Which didn’t amount to a lot, but if it paid off she’d be in the pink and fancy free. If it didn’t come off she was finished in Sunnydale. Which meant she’d be finished with Buffy. And she didn’t even want to think about that.

"I wanna tell you that I’m feeling closer..."

Instead, she gloated over her success with Joyce. She had totally nailed her. Buffy’s over-protective mother had bought Faith’s whole helpless child act hook, line and sinker. Agreeing to give Faith whatever she needed to get Buffy away from Sunnydale, with its double threat of the Watchers Council’s extermination programming and a rampant Angelus. Apparently Joyce hadn’t noticed the irony in entrusting full care of her daughter, even for a few days, to a helpless child. Faith wasn’t about to point it out to her. Instead she’d spent some time before Joyce had left for the hospital repeating what the woman had to do to help her daughter. And reassuring her that, if Joyce could only do what she said, Buffy would be okay.

"I wanna push it right over the line..."

As she washed two day’s worth of blood and grime out of her long dark hair the slayer ran through her ‘to do’ list in her head. It was long. And it was going to cost plenty. Joyce had left her all the cash she’d had on hand with the promise of more when they met again that afternoon. As well as the cash, which was around two hundred dollars, Joyce had left Faith her credit card and her house keys. Along with strict instructions to lock up when she was done. Faith could have felt dizzy with responsibility. If she had planned on being responsible. The financial factor had been the only reason the girl had involved Buffy’s mother in the first place. Plus the fact that, while Faith was busy, she could get Joyce to make sure that the Scooby gang were kept away from Buffy as much as possible. It had been easy to get her to agree to the necessity to keep the English bastards out. But Faith had wanted to be sure that Buffy’s friends were banned as well. So that no annoying memories could be jogged. That had taken some fast talking but eventually she’d convinced Joyce that Giles’ pet geek (who, Faith had been careful to remind her, was a witch) and the boy who loved the taste of his own foot presented a serious threat to Buffy’s continuing existence. The young slayer just hoped that Joyce’s resolve would hold out against Willow and Xander’s undoubted determination to see their friend. She got all tingly just thinking about how pissed off they were going to be.

"I wanna push it right over the line, the line that you draw when you draw me near..."

Reluctantly she thrust her head under the stream of soothing water one last time before turning off the shower. After drying herself quickly, Faith wandered down the hall to Buffy’s bedroom dressed in nothing but one of the huge, fluffy towels which were in such abundance in the Summers house. She stood, dripping, in front of Buffy’s wardrobe, looking for something she could wear. The tall slayer did not have a lot of success. She was confronted by an extensive range of pastel dresses. Faith held one or two of these against herself in the mirror and smirked at the results. It was undeniable they looked great on Buffy but they weren’t really the dark-haired slayer’s style. A search for something more subdued proved futile. Surely no one in their right mind could be in the mood to wear pastels twenty-four seven? Eventually Faith had to settle for one of Buffy’s training tank tops and her own long pants. Everything else the slight slayer owned was too small for her anyway. It was just lucky that bloodstains don’t show on black material.

Next, Faith pulled out Buffy’s infamous black sports bag of goodies. She briefly lingered over the arsenal therein before reluctantly discarding most of it to make room for some of Buffy’s clothes. Faith only chose the most sensible items of Buffy-wear, conscious of the fact that she didn’t know what kind of potentially messy situations the pair of slayers could end up in. She also selected a couple of pairs of shoes, again with an eye to potential fighting and fleeing situations. Finally she scanned the blonde slayer’s room one last time, tossed one more stake into the bag for good measure and headed out of there for, hopefully, the last time. Before she left the house, though, Faith had one more pit stop to make. Joyce’s jewellery box.

******

As Joyce hurried up the corridor of the ER two slightly overweight men in brown uniforms pushed past her, night-sticks at the ready. Joyce had had too many bad experiences in the past couple of years not to learn to fear the worst. She desperately battled down the urge to panic and followed the security guards. They headed straight into a room on the right-hand side of the corridor. When Joyce made it into the room a few seconds later her fears were confirmed. Buffy was lying, bruised, cut and unconscious on the bed. On the floor a tall, blonde male nurse was sprawled on the floor, face down. A slight brunette woman in a white coat was digging her knee into his back while twisting his arms behind him into what was evidently a very painful position. Judging by his screams. The woman reached up and grabbed a syringe which had been protruding from Buffy’s thigh. But none of this held Joyce’s attention, which was immediately focused entirely on the figure in the bed. She was shocked at how helpless her daughter appeared. Nothing anyone had said had prepared her for the sight of Buffy, usually so vital, looking so small and vulnerable.

The worried mother rushed to the girl’s bedside, grasping her hands and stroking her damaged head as the tears flowed freely down her face. The other events in the room were irrelevant. She vaguely noted that the security guards subdued the agitated nurse before hauling the man to his feet and dragging him out of the room. She caught the word "police". Then she and Buffy were left alone.

"Never again, darling, never again." She vowed as she took her daughter gently in her arms. They stayed peacefully in that position for only a few moments before the young brunette woman returned.

"You’re her mom." It was a statement of fact. The woman was, Joyce now realized, a doctor. She removed Buffy from Joyce’s arms without ceremony and began a frantic check of the unconscious girl. Joyce’s anger surfaced.

"What the hell is going on here? What are you people doing to my daughter?" The doctor did not interrupt what she was doing. Joyce watched her with a mixture of irritation and fear. "Is she all right? What happened?" Finally, the doctor was satisfied and looked up to meet Joyce’s eyes.

"She was fine. I think she still is, but I’m going to have to run some more tests. God knows what damage that bastard did to her." The doctor was unconsciously stroking the blonde hair. "I’m Maggie Doyle and I’ve been treating Buffy. Look, I’m not going to try and snow you, something way out of line is going on here."

"And do you mind telling me what the hell that is supposed to mean." The doctor looked up and Joyce and rubbed the side of her head.

"There have been a few...irregularities with her treatment. And just now I walked in on that nurse attacking and drugging her. The police have been called and they’ll be here soon."

"Oh my God." Joyce was speechless, gripping tightly the small hand she still held in her own.

It might be best if we keep an officer on guard and keep visitors to the bare minimum right now. I know this sounds crazy but…. Is there anyone who would want to hurt your daughter?"

Joyce didn’t reply. She didn’t know how. Right now it seemed like the whole world was out to hurt her daughter. Everyone except herself. And Faith.

*******

"You have got to be fucking kidding me."

Faith exploded at woman sitting behind the bright orange desk. Sharyllyn, which was the woman’s name according to the large red badge pinned to her hideously multi-colored floral track suit, blew smoke in the slayer’s face and shook her head. The combination of cigarette smoke and last night’s beer on her breath almost made Faith lose her breakfast.

"Look, surely there’s a way we can come to some...arrangement?" The desperate girl even briefly considered flirting with this hideous creature. For about one millisecond. Maybe she could take the witch out back and throttle her until her eyes hit the roof. This plan made her smile a little more convincing. Sharyllyn, however, was unmoved.

"Kid, I don’t know how old you are..."

"I told you. I’m nineteen. See, there." She pointed desperately at her fake driver’s license for the third time. The wizened old woman hacked out a disbelieving smoker’s cough. Which may have been an attempt at a laugh.

"Say you are nineteen..."

"It don’t make no difference. We don’t hire cars to anyone under twenty-one."

." Faith slammed her hand on the desk in frustration, putting a big crack right down the middle. Which finally got a different reaction from the proprietor of Drive Sunnydale -- Affordable Car Rentals. She looked like she was about to shit herself. Much as Faith enjoyed striking fear into the hearts of scum like this, the volatile slayer decided she’d better cool it. She didn’t want this trashy slag to freak out and pull a gun or something.

"Fine. Whatever. Just point me in the direction of a company which actually wants my money."

"Ain’t nowhere."

"Nowhere?"

"Nope. Nobody in town hires cars to anyone under twenty-one. Specially if all they’ve got is an out of state fake ID."

Faith stormed out of the shop, pausing only to throw one of the chairs provided for the non-existent customers in the waiting room through the front window. She was fucking mad. Fucking bitch. The slayer was starting to get edgy. All this planning with no doing was not her idea of fun. Her body was suddenly making her acutely aware that it hadn’t seen any action for quite some time. And her frustrated efforts to get some wheels hadn’t helped. She was getting the urge for some serious "ugh". More than ever, Faith now regretted not staking Angel when she’d had the chance. That would have been satisfying. The mental picture of deadboy dissolving to dust around her stake had got her through many a long, lonely night. Why hadn’t she brought it to life when she’d had the chance? The thought was annoying her. Mainly because, from somewhere way in the back of her mind, the suggestion kept popped up that, maybe, at least at some level, she’d believed all the crap she’d been spinning. About wanting to change. It was an idea she definitely wanted out of her head. Her mind was made up. Faith wasn’t going to play by anybody else’s rules anymore. And yet...Buffy’s meat was still undead and kicking.

"Fuck it."

She decided that if she wasn’t going to be allowed to do things the legal way, and no one could say that she hadn’t tried, she was just going to have to get them done. She headed off into a side alley, checking to make sure that there was no one around.

******

Giles was concerned to see a police officer standing guard outside Buffy’s room. He hurried up to the tall, muscular man.

"What’s happened? Is Buffy all right?" Giles stretched his neck darted back and forth in an attempt to catch sight of his charge around the officer’s broad shoulders. After a few seconds of this the man placed one hand of each of Gile’s lapels and moved him to the side.

"This is a restricted area, Sir. Immediate family only."

"Why? What’s going on here?" The Englishman’s fear, manifesting itself as intense curiosity, was destined to remain unsatisfied.

"Are you immediate family?" The officer looked down at Gilesimpassively.

"Well, not... Yes. Yes, I am. That’s my niece in there. Now tell me, what all this is in aid of." Giles attempted to make the belated lie convincing by adopting a confident stance. The policeman regarded him momentarily before meeting the slightly shorter man’s defiant glance with a slightly raised eyebrow.

"ID ?"

"What? I told you..."

"I’m going to have to see some identification, Sir, before I can ask the doctor and Mrs Summers for clearance."

"Mrs... Joyce is here?" The officer gave a slight nod in confirmation. The awkward moment of total panic passed. Giles was confident that Buffy’s mother would allow him to see her. "Oh good. Just tell her that Rupert Giles is here, will you? Good man." The librarian nodded towards the door, as if dismissing the officer to do his bidding.

"Can’t do that, Sir."

"Can’t? Why in blazes not?"

"My orders are very clear. No one but the immediate family. Under any circumstances. Plus this list of those particularly to be kept away." The officer took his notebook from his top pocket and flipped it open. He muttered the names to himself. "Harris. Rosenberg. Wesley Something. And... yup, there you are Rupert Giles."

"But...That’s ridiculous. Why would she...?" Giles had removed his glasses and was frantically polishing them with his handkerchief, pondering what Joyce was playing at.

"I can’t talk about current investigations. Now, I’m going to have to ask you to move along." The Englishman replaced his glasses and began to lecture the officer, all the while continuing his efforts to get a glimpse through the glass panel in the door.

Now you look here, young man... " As he vented his anger at the officer Giles’s mind was whirling with wild and outlandish possibilities. The Council surely wouldn’t have moved against Buffy already, would they? Why else would Joyce be refusing him access to her daughter? And even if it was the Council behind... whatever had happened, how could Joyce believe that he would have had a role in it. He would never do anything to harm Buffy. Giles stopped talking and began to rub his temples. He’d barely slept all night, spending most of the hours since leaving the hospital researching methods for memory restoration. He and Willow had come across numerous possible solutions ranging from conventional Western medicine to more mystical approaches. The former watcher had come to the hospital eager to evaluate Buffy’s condition and begin implementing whichever of the techniques were best suited to the circumstances. He hadn’t expected to be kept out by Sunnydale’s finest.

"Okay, buddy. Hit the road." The bulky officer’s patience was at an end. He took a very firm grip just above the Englishman’s elbow and made a move to propel him down the hall.

"Wait. May I at least leave a message?" The officer shrugged as if he could see no harm in that and released his grip. He held up his pencil, indicating his willingness to record Gile’s message in his notebook.

"Just tell Joyce that I was here. Rupert Giles." He spelled it out slowly, allowing the other man a generous amount of time to write down each letter. "Tell her to call me. Urgently."

Giles made one last attempt to see into the room. This time he managed to catch a brief glimpse of Buffy, apparently peacefully asleep, looking much as she had done all day yesterday. Then the sentry grabbed him again.

"Okay, I’m leaving." Giles brushed his suit coat back into its proper condition and walked down the hall in the most dignified manner he could. The ex-watcher was rather keen to find the young man who had replaced him.

******

Angel had been in hell all night. His nose had been badly broken when the police officers had "subdued" him against a lamppost outside the hospital. And he was pretty sure that a few of his ribs had been cracked when they had "accidentally" shut the car door while he was still only half in the vehicle. But the physical pain was irrelevant in comparison to the agony of knowing that Faith was up to something and he was languishing here, totally unable to stop her. No matter how loudly or how often the vampire had demanded his rightful phone call his request had fallen on selectively deaf ears. As the hours had crept towards dawn he had grown increasingly despondent. Luckily, the lone cell in the Sunnydale Police Station was underground. But once the sun came up he’d be stuck there all day. Who knew what kind of damage Faith could have caused by that time? Or what kind of state Buffy would be in.

He had eventually taken to desperately banging the bars of his cell with his bare hands to gain the attention of his captors. And it had been successful, to some degree. The officer in charge of those in custody, one of the arresting officers and a female officer who regarded him with absolute loathing, appeared. Unfortunately, their response to his demands was less than obliging.

"Well, the filthy bastard wants to call his mother does he?" They began taunting him, joking amongst themselves from the safety of the other side of the bars.

"Did you check out the coat he came in here with? Looks like it came straight out of Pervert’s Own Clothing catalogue."

"He doesn’t even have I. D. Wants to be known as ‘Angel’."

"Sicko."

They drifted back occasionally throughout the evening, whenever they got bored. It had got to the point where Angel was having a hard time keeping the demon within him under control. Once or twice he’d felt the first tingling of a change coming over him, but he’d managed to fight it off. He hadn’t been able to control, however, a blood-hungry growl. Which had only caused served to heighten their contempt.

"Animal."

Eventually a new officer arrived, apparently to take over the day shift in charge of the cells. Angel had been despondent when he realized what this meant. At least ten hours before he could do anything himself. But he didn’t abandon all hope. Giles and the others could still stop Faith. If only he could get in touch with them in time. Fortunately, the day shift apparently featured a more civilized breed of officer. His demands for a phone call met approval at last. The vampire was led out into a concrete hall, which was painted the same sickly shade of pale green as the cell, by the smallish officer.

"What time is it?"

The officer consulted his watch. It was half past nine. Who could he call? Surely everybody would be at the hospital by now. The desperate vampire flicked through the pages of the phone book, not without some difficulty, due to the handcuffs which had been snapped around his wrists as soon as the door to his cell had been opened. If he wasn’t able to get through to them there he had no idea of what he was going to do. Unfortunately, the hospital switchboard operator proved unable or unwilling to comprehend his request that any visitor of Buffy Summers be paged as a matter of urgency. She assured him that that was a logistical impossibility.

"Fine. Just put me through to her room."

"Certainly. Patient’s name?" The voice on the other end of the line was unbearably cheery.

"Buffy. Summers." Angel spoke as slowly and clearly as he could through tightly clenched teeth.

"One moment." Some annoyingly familiar, yet unidentifiable hold music chirped at him at an ear-splitting volume. He grimaced and held the telephone away from his ear slightly. The officer sitting across the desk started tapping his foot in time.

"-absolutely no calls to go through." Angel had missed the operator’s return.

Sorry, what was that?" A heavy sigh at the other end indicated that she was keen to end this call.

"I said," she said, slightly more loudly than before, "that the police have put a bar on the room you requested. I can’t put any calls through. Have a nice day." The dial tone exploded into Angel’s ear, as if to reinforce the calamitous nature of what he had just heard. The police? What had happened?

******

"It’s my girlfriend... I think she’s in big trouble." The officer didn’t look exceptionally sympathetic but Angel went on, in a somewhat less pleading tone. "Now, I know that my rights were stomped all over last night in this place. And I know people who could make you all suffer the proper consequences of that..."

"You’re in no position to be making threats, pal." The police officer sniffed indignantly.

"But I’m willing to forget it. For one more phone call. Please." Begging once more. The powerful vampire’s dignity was suffering but he didn’t care one bit.

"All right. But make it snappy. Two minutes." Angel leapt at the phone and dialed the number of Giles’s office in in the library. As he expected, he got the answering machine.

"Giles. It’s Angel. I’m stuck in prison. You have to stop Faith. She’s up to something big, and I’m afraid it involves Buffy. If you can, come to the police station and bail me out tonight. But you have to stop her, no matter what..."

His message ended abruptly when the officer terminated the call.

"Time’s up, buddy. Heaven’s waiting. I’ve got to book in another pervert."

Angel wasn’t left languishing alone for much longer. A few minutes later a man in a uniform Angel recognized as that worn by male nurses at the hospital was dragged down the corridor and unceremoniously dumped on the floor of the cell.

"Here’s a playmate, Angel-boy. Another sicko who thinks that the hospital is a great place to mistreat girls." Angel refused to rise to the jibes; steadfastly meeting the eyes of the policemen with a glare he knew could freeze the soul. The officer squirmed slightly. After he left the vampire regarded his new cell-mate for a few moments beforespeaking.

"You okay?"

The nurse, who was still prone on his side on the floor, groaned in reply. "What did they do to you?" Angel got up off the bed he had been sitting on and moved cautiously towards the blond man, who was obviously in pain. He opened his eyes when Angel touched his arm, waved the large vampire away and crawled over to the bed on the other wall of the cell. He didn’t speak for a few minutes and when he did it was with obvious pain.

"This wasn’t the cops. Some bitch doctor attacked me." Angel watched the man closely as he attempted to lift himself up off the floor.

"Why?"

"No fucking idea. She reckoned I was trying to knock off her patient."

Angel’s full attention was grabbed by this. He desperately hoped that this had nothing to do with Buffy. But he knew for a fact that there were many people who would consider the slayer’s weakened state a golden opportunity. All the demons and low-life scum too yellow to come after her when she was at full strength. The nurse stopped his efforts to get off the floor, instead concentrating on regaining his breath.

"Whore must have been wearing steel capped boots." He wheezed. Angelsneered.

"You didn’t do it, then?" He tried to keep his voice even, although he had almost convinced himself that the unnamed subject of this conversation was his love.

"Wasn’t trying to."

The nurse rolled his head to the side and gave Angel a wink which was intended to be conspiratorial. A few moments of uncomfortable silence ensued, as Angel couldn’t bring himself to respond to his companion with anything more than a glower. The nurse looked straight ahead once more, seemingly unimpressed by the lack of conversation from the other side of the cell. He closed his eyes and began mumbling. "I sure coulda done with that ten grand, though. I don’t understand why it didn’t work. Shoulda been enough to kill her the first time. And she was only a little thing." Human ears couldn’t have picked up the almost silent one-man conversation the nurse was having. But Angel heard every word.

It could only be Buffy he was describing, her boyfriend was sure. Someone other than Faith was planning on taking advantage of the situation. Chances were that they were more dangerous than even the deranged slayer. Which made his incarceration even more unbearable. The man on the other bed coughed. A long, hacking cough. With a spit-up of blood to finish. Great. Angel was going to be stuck in a cell with a man who had tried to kill his girlfriend while a psychopath was on the loose. And now, when he could barely remember the last time he had fed, he had to deal with the smell of blood as well. Things really weren’t going the vampire’s way.

*******

Giles walked out of the hospital and sat in his car in the parking lot. He was momentarily at a loss as to what to do next. The exhausted watcher had no idea where Wesley was staying. Frankly, the issue had never held even the barest sliver of interest for him. Which now left the Englishman cursing himself for his own pigheadedness. The Watcher’s Council hadn’t been taking his calls for some time. The situation was hardly likely to have changed now that they were apparently so keen on harming the slayer he was so inordinately fond of. No one else in Sunnydale had any further contact with Wesley than was forced upon them. With the notable exception of Cordelia. He didn’t relish the thought of calling on the girl to ask potentially sensitive questions about her new love interest’s whereabouts. Suddenly Giles was hit by inspiration. The card. When the pretentious little twerp had arrived he’d handed the ex-watcher a card providing contact details "in case of absolute emergencies." The librarian coaxed his ancient car into action and headed towards the school. As he drove he tried to remember which waste-paper basket he had tossed the card into.

His decrepit vehicle was, surprisingly, not alone when it pulled up in the parking lot at Sunnydale High. Cordelia’s snappy red sports car was sitting patiently in her favorite spot. What could she possibly be doing here on the weekend?

"Finally." The tall brunette flounced over to him as he shut his car door and began hurrying towards the library.

"Cordelia. What are you doing here?" She began to match his pace, evidently intending to accompany him into the school.

"I can be useful too, you know. See, I brought donuts and everything." A large pink box was briefly brandished before his eyes but before Giles could reply the donuts had disappeared and Cordelia was demanding information. "Where’s Wesley?"

They had reached the back door of the library by this time. The Englishman unlocked the door and politely held it open for his young companion.

"I was actually hoping you could provide some enlightenment on his whereabouts." Giles flung off his suit coat and headed into his office. He grabbed a waste-paper basket containing what appeared to be several weeks worth of trash and tipped it on the floor. Cordelia stood at the office door, making pronouncements at an irritatingfrequency.

"I don’t see why you’d care. None of you have done anything to help him the whole time he’s been here. If he wasn’t English he’d probably have lost a few fingers to frostbite. Wesley’s new at this you know. And, so, he doesn’t have the most subtle of touches but he’s on your side you know. Or at least, he would be if you let him..."

The tactless girl continued without apparent need to stop for breath. Giles stopped rifling through the papers to remove his glasses and rub his head. What she was saying had a disconcerting edge of truth to it, as always. If they hadn’t had made Wesley feel so left out maybe he would have shown less of a tendency to run to the Council at every opportunity. It was understandable that the rest of them would have behaved that way. But he was an adult and a watcher. Maybe those penpushers had had a point about his excessive attachment to Buffy after all. The chastened Englishman suddenly realized that Cordelia had stopped talking and was looking at him expectantly.

"Sorry, pardon?"

"I said, what are you doing? Is this trash meant to function as some kind of spark for Buffy’s memory? Because if that’s your plan I’m thinking that we could be just about reaching the bottom of the slayer saving barrel." Giles replaced his glasses and rose to his feet.

"Actually, I was looking for Wesley’s card. I need to get in contact with him rather urgently."

"He’s probably at his motel." The girl took a large step, over the pile of rubbish, to Gile’s desk and picked up the phone. "Want me todial?"

"You knew his...? Why didn’t you say?"

"Because you didn’t ask," she retorted. Then she spun around dramatically and dialed the phone. This, however, didn’t stop her fromtalking. "Where’s the geek troop? At the hospital I suppose. Did Buffy wake up yet? I hope she doesn’t freak out again and kill someone. It’s busy. Do you want to go over there?" Giles took a moment to digest this series of statements.

"You know where he’s staying? Why were you waiting for him here?"

"Because I’m playing hard to get." Her long legs cleared the garbage once more and she flounced out of the library. The Englishman stood bemused for a moment before following her. As he left the library he looked at his watch. It was half past nine.

The car park witnessed a brief dispute over whose vehicle would be use to take them to Wesley’s lodgings. Eventually, because she refused to be seen in Gile’s car during daylight hours, Cordelia had her way. The Englishman hadn’t experienced such speeds for numerous years. The girl’s disregard for road safety, however, wasn’t entirely unwelcome. It provided abundant distraction from his other concerns. Gile’s plan was to show Wesley exactly how much he cared about the girl whom he had tried to murder. They drove to a rather stylish three-story apartment block in the downtown area. Giles, unable to stand the suspense for one more moment, leapt out as soon as Cordelia brought her car to a screeching halt.

"Which number is it?" He used his best no-nonsense voice to try and ensure a swift and brief response from his verbose companion.

"What do you think I am, some kind of deranged stalker?" There was a brief pause as she consulted the rearview mirror to rearrange her hair.

"Number Three, on the first floor." Giles bounded towards the front door but his attempts to enter were thwarted by the security system. Cordelia spared him a scornful look as she walked past him and pressed the intercom button for Wesley’s apartment.

"Wyndham-Pryce here." Giles fervently hoped that his own accent didn’t sound half as priggish.

"Hi Wesley, it’s Cordelia. I was wondering if I could come up and have a quick word with you." The girl’s voice dripped with seduction. The librarian wasn’t entirely comfortable witnessing this blatant flirtatious behaviour.

"Oh, Miss Chase. I’m not entirely certain that it would be proper for me, I mean for you, for us to...Perhaps I should come down...?" Thatwouldn’t do at all. This type of encounter certainly shouldn’t be a public affair. Giles shook his head at Cordelia, mouthing his dissatisfaction with this plan.

"Just a minute." The girl lifted her finger off the intercom button and demanded an explanation. "What?"

"It is imperative that I see him in private. There are matters of a rather delicate nature that I must discuss with him."

"You’re not going to beat him up are you? He told me about yesterday, you know, and I think you should be ashamed...you’re lucky you didn’t damage him. He’s very fragile."

"For God’s sake. No, I’m not going to beat the little twerp up. Just get me in there will you." Cordelia held her finger over the intercom button once more.

There’s no need to go postal." Thankfully, she didn’t appear at all hurt by his outburst. "Wesley? Hi. Thing is, it’s kinda private. It’s about Giles... I think he’s lost it." She shot the librarian a triumphant look.

"Really…" Giles was mildly annoyed to hear the almost joyful interest in the other man’s voice. "Well, I suppose there’s no harm in coming in for a few minutes. But I am rather busy at the moment, so not too long." There was a horrific buzzing and the former watcher leapt at the door again. He flung it open and ran up the stairs at the far end of the entrance foyer. Number three was on the right when Giles reached the first floor. Without waiting for his companion, whose footwear was making a considerable racket as she hurried across the ceramic tiles which paved the foyer, Giles pounded on his replacement’s door.

"One moment."

Stupid fool was probably getting himself all dolled up. Gile’s adrenaline meant he couldn’t stand still. Instead the Englishman paced back and forth in front of the door like a guard dog ready to pounce. Just as Cordelia reached the top of the stairs the door opened. The air of anticipation around Wesley changed immediately to one of complete confusion. The older man didn’t give him a chance to shut the door again, instead striding forward and dealing Wesley a firm push to the chest. The smaller man stumbled backwards until his feet hit the bed and he fell backwards onto it.

"Giles!" Cordelia called from the doorway. She ran into the room to try and assist the most recent object of her affections. However, she didn’t get much beyond the doorway.

"Stay out of this, Cordelia." Her teacher turned around to warn the girl off. The terrified look in her eyes told Giles that maybe she had been right. Maybe he had lost it. But when he thought about what this man had done to Buffy, he didn’t give a toss. Instead he turned his attention to the weasel cowering in front of him. "What did you do to her?"

"I swear I never touched her. She’s lying. Tell him it’s true." Wesley’s panicked eyes were seeking out Cordelia. The thick bastard.

"Not her, you idiot. Buffy. What has the Council done to Buffy?" The inexperienced watcher feigned ignorance.

"Buffy? They haven’t done anything..."

Giles didn’t have the patience to play games with this pathetic specimen. He stepped forward and took a firm hold of Wesley’s tie. Then he dragged the sniveling excuse for a man off the bed and onto his knees on the floor.

"I swear to you... I’ve been on the phone to them all night..." Giles looked down at him with menace. Then pulled the tie upwards so that Wesley’s knees were a good inch above the ground. The interloper’s face went a rather satisfying shade of red and he began to whimper.

Then Giles was dealt a painful blow to the back of his head. The Englishman instinctively relinquished his hold on the tie to lift his arms in preparation for another assault. Wesley fell gasping to the floor. The enraged watcher spun around to see Cordelia brandishing the phone, which she had evidently pulled from the wall while he had been distracted.

"This is getting way out of hand Giles. I don’t want to have to hurt you." She waved the phone at him menacingly. The librarian rubbed the back of his head, feeling for the cut he was sure he had sustained. The girl was right. He had no idea what he was doing. But he knew that it wasn’t helping anyone. The exhausted man took off his glasses and rubbed his eyes. He turned around, stepped over the petrified man who was still cowering on the floor and sat on the corner of the bed. Cordelia rushed over to Wesley to check if he was okay. The new watcher had undone his tie and his top shirt button for probably the first time since he had arrived in Sunnydale. Giles could only hang his head in shame when he saw his fellow watcher looking at him with genuine fear.

"I suspect that someone has made an attempt on Buffy’s life. I assumed that it was the Council..." Wesley cut him off.

"What? When? I swear to you, the Council has nothing to do with this. I’ve been on the phone virtually all night trying to talk them out of deploying a team to take her to England. Unsuccessfully, I might add. There has been no genuine talk of decommissioning her at this stage. At least, not to my knowledge." The slight man struggled to his feet, assisted by his cheerleading protector. He nodded his thanks to her and readjusted his neckwear. "I think you need to fully brief me on the situation."

Giles looked at them over the rims of his glasses, raising his head only slightly.

"That’s the whole bloody point. Something’s happened, but the police won’t let me know what. Joyce is keeping me out, and I have no idea why. The Council hasn’t moved yet, but someone has gone after Buffy. There doesn’t seem to be any sense to any of it." Wesley sat down on the bed beside the older man. They were all silent for a moment, lost in mutual confusion.

"Did anyone find Faith?" Cordelia asked.

******

The intercom buzzed. Mayor Wilkins pulled off the pink rubber gloves which were protecting his hands from the corrosive effect of the chemicals he was using to disinfect his office windows.

"Howdy Susan. What’s doing?" The Mayor was feeling a little down after the losses among the ranks of his most trusted personnel within the last few days. Both Allen and Mr Trick killed by that troublesome new slayer. But the invincible city official was expecting some news that would brighten up his dreary skies.

"Call, Sir. Code word Replenish." Mayor Wilkin’s secretary was highly accustomed to his predilection for these obtuse codes. For City Hall this type of call was entirely business as usual.

"How’s that disinfecting coming along out there?" The super cleanly man boomed encouragingly into the speaker. "I want this whole place a germ-free zone by this afternoon."

"Yes, Sir." Susan’s heavy sigh crackled unpleasantly on the speaker. "Transfer the call, Sir?"

"Yes, indeedy." The Mayor left the phone on speaker and leaned back in his chair.

Michael, you were lucky to catch me before my big budget meeting. Who knows what’s going to be left of me after the battle between parks and policing. " There was a sound of nervous swallowing on the other end of the line.

"Sorry to disturb you, Sir." The voice quavered.

"Well, that doesn’t sound like the happy, upbeat young man who left here so confidently a few short hours ago. Don’t tell me I’m going to regret giving you a second chance."

"It wasn’t my fault...." The Mayor cut his excuses off.

"Now, we’ll have none of that. Responsiblity, remember? It’s what this task was going to teach you. I hope we don’t have to give you a firmer lesson."

"They caught me. I’m in the lockup." The Mayor grimaced and began flicking the rubber gloves against the arm of the chair. Then he threw them on the desk.

"That’s not good at all. Gosh, darn it." Mayor Wilkins reached over to the desk and pulled a moist towlette from the dispenser. He wiped his hands thoughtfully. "Michael, I trusted you to do this very important job for me. I’m not going to pretend that I’m not disappointed. But I can’t stand a quitter. Do I hear quitting in your voice?" The man on the other end of the line mumbled something under his breath. "Let’s leave out the obscenities, young man. I’m beginning to get a little disappointed in you."

"No, Sir. I’m no quitter."

"That’s more like it. Okay, now you’re going to stay there today and think about what you’ve done. Then tonight one of my people will come and get you and we’ll talk about what we can do to solve my Slayerproblem."

"But, Sir...Again the Mayor broke him off, speaking in firm but caring tones.

"No arguing Michael. Time to be responsible for your failures." Before the other man had a chance to respond the call had beenterminated.

Mayor Wilkins sat at his desk and surveyed his empty office. He was feeling very let down. Just a few weeks to his Ascension and he was virtually without staff at all. The town’s vampires were busy fighting amongst themselves to establish their new pecking order. Hopefully the undoubtedly messy battle would be resolved soon. The forced innovation of sending a man to do a vampire’s job had proved a spectacular failure. The one happy piece of news in the past few days was that the Watchers had driven out the dark-haired slayer. As for the other, she was going to be out of action for quite a while, anyway. The Mayor decided that killing Buffy could wait until the Ascension was at hand. Consoled by thoughts of a rather messy downfall for the pesky girl, the leader of Sunnydale pulled his gloves back on and returned his attention to his germ-infested windows.

******

Willow was feeling neglected as she hurried towards the hospital. She’d overslept this morning and no one had come by to accompany her to the hospital. Now it was quarter to eleven and the young witch had already missed almost two hours of visiting time. As she walked along she scolded herself, attributing the blame for her lateness to the many hours of heavy-duty research she and Giles had done late into the previous night. Plus there had been the problem of the coffee supply in the library running dry. Now she had probably missed some momentous stage of her friend’s recovery which had brought her back to the Buffy of old. Willow hoped.

As she neared the hospital the red-haired girl noticed someone creeping around in the gardens planted along the side wall of the building. Recognising the figure, and curious about what he was up to, Willow left the footpath and headed towards him. He was busily trying to see through the drawn blinds of one of the windows. She came up behind him and reached out a hand to attract his attention. Xander jumped about six feet in the air when she tapped his shoulder. Then he tried to spin around to see what was attacking him and tripped over his own feet, making quite a mess of the garden.

"Willow!" The young man was seemingly unable to say any more. He held his hand on his chest as though to reassure his heart that everything was okay. Willow couldn’t help but smile. She reached out a hand to assist her oldest friend to his feet.

"Sorry. What are you doing out here? Is Buffy better?"

Xanderbrushed the remnants of what had once been an African violet from his pants. He momentarily avoided eye contact. But when he did raise his head his ‘bad news’ face was well and truly in place.

"I’ve got no idea what’s going on. There’s a police officer on guard outside the room. He’s not letting anyone in and he won’t tell me anything."

"Do you think she’s okay? What could have happened? Oh my..." Willow could feel the panic rising to hyperventilation point. Well beyond the ramble stage. Thoughts of Buffy lying torn to pieces in her hospital bed flashed across her mind. A firm hand was placed on each of the girl’s shoulders and she looked up into Xander’s dark brown eyes.

"She’s okay, Will. I managed to charm that much out of one of the nurses. But apparently that’s the only information which isn’t classified ‘I could tell you but then I’d have to kill you.’ " Willow heaved a huge sigh of relief. She collapsed into Xander’s comforting arms. He continued talking. "But something is seriously awry in there. Buffy’s mom has made some kind of blacklist banning everyone from so much as asking to be let in. Or breathing within a five mileradius."

"Blacklist?" Willow pulled away from Xander and looked at him with confusion.

"Yup. And guess who achieved the position of Joyce’s most undesirable?" Xander took a mock bow in celebration of his dubiousachievement.

"Am I on it?" Xander nodded.

"I think that the whole witchcraft thing may have tipped you over the line." His explanation, offered in sympathetic tones, was coldcomfort.

But why?" For once Xander had no explanation. It was as inconceivable to him that they should be regarded as dangerous to Buffy as it was to Willow. Surely Joyce knew that if Buffy was in trouble they would do anything they could to help her? Willow was struck by athought.

"What about Giles?"

"Him too. I’m thinking that may be related to unresolved chocolate-induced discomfort. The whole banning Wesley thing is, of course, entirely understandable. If only those who granted visas knew the pain they were causing...."

"Wesley, too? Everyone who knows she’s the Slayer?"

"I guess. I think I saw Oz on there. Cordelia as well, though there’s no danger of her trying to visit somewhere where there’s no Wesley." Xander imbued this last comment with an unhealthy amount of bitterness.

"Do you think it was the Council?"

"No, I’m pretty sure he was just born that annoying."

"What? No, not Wesley. Do you think the Council tried something? You heard what Wesley said yesterday. That would explain Joyce freaking out like this." Xander’s mind took a moment to shunt his train of thought away from his intense dislike of the new watcher onto the suggestion that the Watcher’s Council may have attempted to kidnap or kill Buffy.

"Have you seen Giles? Our helpful neighbourhood policeman said he’s been here but he left quite a while ago."

"Not this morning, but I think we should definitely go find him."

"Library or house? Being Saturday I’m tending towards the latter..."

Xander leapt into action, immediately taking Willow’s hand and striding off in that direction.

"He’ll probably be at the library. But his apartment’s on the way to the school anyway so we’ll call by there first." Willow commented as they cleared the hospital gardens and rejoined the sidewalk.

"Agreed. Though this does mean that I’m going to have to abandon my carefully thought out plans for obtaining entry to Buffy’s room by distracting Sergeant Slaughter in there."

"Please don’t tell me you were planning to dress up as a female rabbit." The very worried girl still managed to raise a slight smile as Xander, doing his best impersonation of Bugs Bunny’s female alter ego, began to mince his way towards the watcher’s apartment.

********

Faith tossed her own bag into the trunk of the car beside Buffy’s. She’d managed to find a very classy Cadillac parked in a dangerously secluded back alley near the bronze. A few experienced moves and she’d got herself a ride out of hell. The car ran like a dream. Even better, it had a huge back seat which meant that her tiny friend’s reclining needs could be very easily accommodated. The only downside to the car was that some moron had painted it yellow. Yellow. First chance she got she’d get it sprayed a decent colour. Still, Buffy would probably like the yellow. She’d have to wait and see. Faith was sure that the motel’s administration could spare the pillows and blankets she’d used to convert the back seat into a makeshift bed for the other slayer. Same as they could probably spare the rent for the last month. Faith didn’t bother to go back into the room for a last look. The dive had witnessed very little in the way of happy memories anyway. Instead, she wandered over to the owner’s car and removed its number plates with two sharp yanks. These were soon attached to the Canary Express, as she’d already named the car. Faith’s Sunnydale experience was about to come to an unexpectedly satisfactory end.

The young slayer appreciated the smooth ride of her new wheels. Faith had quite a bit of driving experience. Most of it, strangely enough, in stolen cars. There was good money to be made in ferrying hot motors in cities all over the country. A useful piece of knowledge she’d picked up. The slayer’s stomach rumbled as she drove down the main drag of the town. It was still before noon but that was what you got for eating lunch at dawn. Unfortunately its insistent demands meant that Faith had to make an unplanned fuel stop. It was probably not a good idea to park the hot yellow caddy right in the centre of town. Especially considering that the police station was right there. Suddenly Faith forgot all about her grumbling innards. The devious slayer had had a much more fun idea. She parked her car in a side street and strode into the cop shop. This was going to be wicked spectacular.

"Hello. Hey." The dark-haired slayer called loudly. The reception desk was abandoned but eventually her shouts brought a large, bald officer waddling over.

"Yeah?" She could see this guy protecting and serving. His donuts.

Um, hi. I was wondering if you had my boyfriend in here. He should’ve been home last night and I’m really worried about him because he hasn’t been taking his medication..."

"Name?"

"Angel." The slayer didn’t want to give a last name in case Angel had given them one. Luckily the name seemed to ring a bell with the desk jockey.

"Yeah, we’ve got him. He attacked a girl last night."

"Oh, no! Has he been charged?" Faith managed to inject just a touch of fake surprise and shock into her voice.

"Nah. Need the girl’s statement still."

"The thing is… I really need to get him home. For his medication. He’s unstable without it. Could I take him now and bring him back for questioning when you need him?"

"You got cash?" That was certainly to the point. In answer Faith removed a fifty from the wad in her pocket and slid it across the desk. "He really should stay here till he’s been charged." The officer drifted off, raising an eyebrow at her significantly. Faith sighed. Watching Angel burn up in the hot midday sun would be fun. Beyond fun. But she was going to need all the cash she had. It would probably only last for the next couple of days as it was. Suddenly, she had a flash of inspiration. The slayer dug into the other pocket of her pants and brought out one of the rings she’d lifted from Joyce’sjewellery box.

"Maybe your wife would appreciate this? I found it on the street outside." She returned the significant raise of the eyebrow as she slid the ring across the desk. The officer’s eyes lit up. The ring looked kind of old. Faith knew that Joyce was into artefacts and stuff so the thing was probably an antique or something. Way too valuable for bribing a member of the Sunnydale police. But it didn’t matter. Faith had two handfuls of the stuff safely stowed in Buffy’s bag.

The officer’s pudgy hand darted across and snatched the money and the ring. He slipped them both into the top pocket of his too-tight shirt. "I’ve just got to complete this paper work. Full name?" So, he hadn’t told them anything. Probably just trying to brood them intosubmission.

"Angel Pratt."

"Address?" Faith reeled the address of Angel’s mansion off the top of her head. Maybe the cops would go there and check out all the sicko stuff that went on. Like the chains on the wall. Just for fun she added the phone number of the school library.

"Sure thing, officer. Mind if I go bring my car round to the front to pick him up?"

"Whatever. He’ll be out in about ten minutes."

"Thanks again. You’ve been very accomodating." The slayer flashed him a stunning grin but the officer just snorted and shuffled off to bring out the newly bailed vampire.

The overworked girl sat in the caddy across the road from the station. She left the engine running so that she could make a quick getaway as soon as the light show was done. Faith waited excitedly. Then, as the ten minute timeframe came and went, impatiently. She turned on the radio and tapped out the drum rhthyms on her thighs. The clock on the dashboard showed it was 11:55 am. Fucking paperwork. She was supposed to meet Buffy’s mom in five minutes. The stupid woman would panic for sure if Faith was late. Her drumming became more ferocious as the minutes past. Eventually the bruises she could feel forming on her legs forced her to stop. The slayer gripped the steering wheel tightly, willing the vampire to appear on the footpath. Dammit. She really had to motor now. Already she was ten minutes late. Reluctantly she shifted the car into gear and sped off towards the hospital. At least she had the joy of knowing that Angel was now going to exist only in barbequed form, even if she didn’t have the intense satisfaction of witnessing it with her own eyes.

******

Buffy’s eyes fluttered open once more. Someone was holding her hand. The injured girl didn’t recognize the face but there was something in the woman’s eyes that was very familiar.

"Oh, honey. It’s okay, I’m here now. You’re going to be okay." The woman started crying, tightening her grip on Buffy’s hand. Buffy rolled her swollen head slightly to see the person she could sense standing on the other side of the bed. She smiled when she recognized Maggie.

"How do you feel?" Maggie managed to return a faint smile but she looked very worried. The girl’s thoughts took a moment to form.

"Feeling ship shape." Slowly her eyelid lowered itself to complete a wink. Maggie reached out and gently stroked Buffy’s hair. The girl noticed that there were heavy, dark circles under the doctor’s eyes. Then Maggie directed her gaze to the other woman.

"She’s just a little drowsy. Thankfully, I don’t think too much of that stuff got into her system this time. But I’ll run some more tests on her now she’s awake, just to be sure." Buffy let all of this flow over her. It didn’t make a whole lot of sense. She attempted to recall what had happened before she fell asleep. Suddenly it came back in a flash.

"The nurse. A needle..." All of her muscles tensed up and her eyes darted around the room, seeking out danger.

"Shhh." Maggie took Buffy’s hand in her own and attempted to comfort her. "We know. He’s gone now. No one’s going to hurt you now."

"Is Faith here?" Her friend must have chased away the man who had been trying to hurt her. Now Buffy would be able to leave this terrible place.

"Faith’s coming, honey. She’s going to help you. You’re going to be okay." The other woman knew Faith? Buffy shifted her head back to the right so she was looking at the crying woman. She looked at her closely, vaguely remembering the woman’s touch. Slowly the pieces found their way together in her jumbled head.

"Mom?" The sobbing increased, but this time accompanied by a wide smile. The woman leapt out of her chair and excitedly wrapped her arms around Buffy.

"Oh, darling. You remember." Her mother seemed lost for any words beyond this. After a few moments she relinquished her hold on Buffy’s shoulders and stood over her, stroking her hair lovingly. The girl smiled weakly at her mother, happy that she had remembered who she was but a bit lost to recall anything beyond that. And she was preoccupied by something else.

"Faith’s coming? When? Is she get me out?" Before her mother had a chance to answer the doctor had interrupted.

"Mrs Summers, I perfectly understand you wanting to pull Buffy out of here. This place doesn’t seem to be safe for her. I can’t stop you taking her, but I would strongly advise against it. Although, she is healing so fast... as long as she’s kept in a stable, familiar environment she could well be back to normal in a matter of weeks. But you’ve got to let me run some tests first."

Her mother nodded in agreement. "A friend of hers is coming to pick her up in about half an hour..."

"Yes, honey. Faith’s coming to keep you safe." She turned back to Maggie. "I can’t explain, but it’s very important that this is kept secret." Maggie looked more than a little worried but nodded.

"It’s obvious that Buffy’s in danger. What I can do is lend you some equipment and help you set it up at home. You’ve got to promise to get her a nurse though. I’ll give you the meds she’ll need for a couple of days when you check her out. I’d really like to keep an eye on her myself for a while. Is it okay if I come over regularly and check on her progress?" Joyce didn’t reply immediately, turning her eyes back to Buffy. The injured girl had no idea what her mother was waitingfor.

"You’d better come and visit me! Maybe I’ll have to employ you as a hired goon." Buffy gave the only member of the medical profession she had ever liked a huge grin.

"Certainly, that would be wonderful." Her mother echoed, somewhat hollowly.

"Well, that’s settled. We’ll just do these tests and I’ll get you guys out of here and all set up at home." Maggie began to disentangle her patient from the jungle of monitoring equipment which had been attached to her as a precaution.

"Uh, I’ve got to make some...arrangements. But I’ll meet you back down here when you’re done." Buffy’s mother fidgeted nervously with the bedsheets.

"Sure, we’ll be done in about three quarters of an hour. I’ll slip the paperwork into the express lane so we can take off as soon as the tests are done."

"Okay." Her mother took Buffy’s chin in her hands regarded the girl with absolute adoration. "We’ll be here waiting for you, sweety. You’re going to be okay now." She bent over and kissed her daughter gently on the nose. Buffy smiled excitedly.

"If you want me to climb out that window or swing from the rafters, I wouldn’t get your hopes up too high. But I’m willing to give it a shot if it means getting out of this place." She squeezed her mom’s hand again, gave a big grin and then began to chat happily to Maggie. As they left the room Buffy noticed Maggie gesture to a big man in a blue uniform who followed behind them until they reached their destination.

*******

The back tyres of the yellow Cadillac left two lines of smoking rubber on the driveway as Faith swung the into the Sunnydale Hospital parking lot at high speed. The large car pulled into one of the vacant disabled spaces and its driver emerged calmly a few seconds later. The girl flicked back her dark hair and adjusted her sunglasses. They were quite a cool bonus accessory she had found in the glove compartment. Joyce, who had been stressing by the front entrance of the hospital, ran over and enveloped the slayer in a smothering hug.

"Thank God, I thought something had happened to you."

"Sorry, I got a little held up. But everything’s set." Although Faith’s voice was apologetic, behind her dark glasses anger flashed in her eyes. She was only fifteen minutes late for fuck’s sake. Joyce looked like she was about to have kittens. Buffy’s mother didn’t say anything else but she took Faith’s arm in her own and walked the few paces back to the car. Something was brewing.

"It’s...bright. Is it safe?"

"As houses, Mrs S. See I created a patented recovery bunker and everything." Faith swung open the rear door to show Joyce her handiwork. Using the stolen motel blankets and pillows she had turned the back seat into a surprisingly comfortable approximation of a bed.

"Very nice." Something was definitely up with Joyce. Faith had a fair idea of what it was. Buffy’s mother was looking more yellow than the car. "Are you certain that all of this is necessary...?"

Faith sighed and took off her glasses. She made serious eye contact with Buffy’s mother before she replied. "I told you before..." To Faith’s immense surprise, she was cut off.

"Yes, yes, I know. The Council and Angel are out to kill Buffy. But I was thinking... Surely we could protect her here, at home? I mean, after this morning, she’s terribly weak. I really don’t feel comfortable with sending you off all alone to look after her." "This morning?" What thefuck had gone wrong this morning?

"Oh, of course, you don’t know. There was an incident with a nurse this morning. He tried to inject her with some sort of poison. Luckily, Doctor Doyle caught him just in time and called the police."

"Son of a bitch. Is she okay?" Faith started to unconsciously clench her free hand into and out of a tight fist.

"Well... she seems a little disoriented to me but Doctor Doyle says that she’s about the same as she was before. They’re just running some more tests on her now but hopefully her recovery hasn’t been too badly affected. In fact, she only woke up again a few minutes ago and, the best news is, she remembered me." Joyce’s eyes were shining with relief and joy as she announced this development to the slayer. So that was what had gone wrong. Just like Buffy to pull a stunt like this and fuck up all her plans. Why couldn’t that nurse have injected enough to knock her out for just a few hours more?

"That’s awesome." Faith enthused. This was a fucking big pain in the ass. The young slayer didn’t need to Joyce’s help to get Buffy out of here. But without her to bullshit that overly attentive doctor Faith was going to have to do things the hard way. Still, there was something to be said for the hard way. It was usually pretty fun.

Faith switched her attention back to Buffy’s mom, who was still raving on excitedly.

"So, you see, there’s no need for you to take her away. It won’t take long for her to recover and till then you can stay at our house and keep her safe."

What a super suggestion! She could be Buffy’s guard dog until the chosen one was ready to resume her place as the true slayer. Notlikely.

"But, she’ll remember that she’s the slayer." Faith just threw the point out there, interested in Joyce’s reaction more than anything else. Buffy’s mother just nodded regretfully at the mention of that unfortunate outcome.

"It’s who she is. I realize now that I can’t have everything I love about my daughter back without her calling along with it. I’d still love her if she wasn’t the slayer. But she wouldn’t be Buffy. As long as I can trust you to keep her safe, I’d rather have her stay here with me."

"Sure, that’s five by five. Why don’t I just go return the transport and meet you at your place later?" Faith disentangled her arm from Joyce’s, where it had been held captive for this entire conversation. She hurried around the back of the car to the driver’s side front door, eager to get away from Buffy’s mother before the slayer did something she could potentially regret. Like slam the idiot woman’s face through the back windshield.

"Don’t you want to stay and visit with her? You can come home with us and return this later." Joyce called her rather untempting invitation loudly over the roof as Faith slipped into the driver’s seat. The girl leaned across and answered through the open front passenger’s window.

"Nah, I’d better do it now. Just get her safely out of here and I’ll take it from there." Faith winked at Joyce and returned to an upright position. The engine of the powerful car roared to life. The slayer exited the parking lot even faster than she’d entered it, leaving a rather puzzled looking Joyce to leap out of the way. The frustrated girl was in wicked need of some venting action.

******

Willow and Xander were more than a little disappointed to find the library abandoned.

"Is it immature of me to feel a desperate urge to have a foot-stamping tantrum? It’s times like these when you can understand why people take up bootscooting."

Willow raised an eyebrow. The young man immediately amended his earlier statement. "Well, maybe not understand exactly..."

The two of them headed straight through the library into Giles’ office. He hadn’t been at the hospital or his apartment so they could only hope that he had left them a message. They stood at the office doorway and looked in surprise. The normally spotless room looked like someone had set off a bomb loaded with trash shrapnel in the middle of thefloor. "Okay, so either Giles has decided that garbage dump chic is the new look in interior decorating or things are a little less than okay."

Willow didn’t respond to Xander’s assessment of the situation, instead tentatively making her way through the mess to Giles’ desk. The little red light on the answering machine was flashing to indicate a new message. The red-haired girl pressed the play button and a very worried sounding Angel came from the speaker.

"Giles. It’s Angel. I’m stuck in jail. You have to stop Faith. She’s up to something big, and I’m afraid it involves Buffy. If you can, come to the police station and bail me out tonight. But you have to stop her, no matter what..."

The call ended abruptly and both Willow and Xander started slightly when the shrill beeping replaced the low tones of the vampire’s voice. Willow turned from the desk to face her friend. They wore matching grave expressions.

"You think...?" The question drifted off but Xander knew exactly what Willow meant.

"Oh yeah, this has got her grubby claw prints all over it." Xander’s eyes darted around the trashed room once more. "I just hope Giles isn’t in the same sort of shape." Willow scrambled back over the mess and the two of them hurried out of the library. Not exactly sure where they were going but knowing they had to do something, quickly.

*******

The Summers house was thoroughly upper-middle class Californian suburbia all the way from it’s flower-lined front walk way to its appliance-ridden kitchen. Maggie couldn’t help but smile sardonically at sight of a stereotype brought to life. All the same, she was acutely aware that things in the house weren’t quite as normal as they first seemed. The doctor had accompanied Buffy and her mother home in an ambulance. The girl’s tests had come up all clear and Maggie had made sure that quite a few corners had been cut in the paper work department so that Buffy could get safely home as soon as possible. "Upstairs are the bedrooms and another bathroom. So where do you think would be the best place to put her?" Joyce asked, bringing to an end Maggie’s brief tour of the downstairs part of the house. "I certainly wouldn’t recommend trying to get her up those stairs for a while. Maybe in a few days we’ll be able to help her up but until then, with all the equipment and stuff, it’ll be best if she stays down here." Joyce nodded, willing to accept any of the doctor’s advice. Maggie didn’t mention it, but the primary reason she felt Buffy should stay downstairs was that, if there was any change in her condition, it would enable swift access and emergency action. Silently Joyce and Maggie moved aside the couch and other furniture, leaving a large open space which be quite adequate for Buffy’s recovery room.

The doctor then headed outside to assist the paramedics bringing in her patient and all the medical equipment accompanied with her. They wheeled Buffy’s bed gently up the few steps to the front porch and into the living room. A few trips later the girl was all set up with IV drip, heart-rate monitor and numerous trays of various meds and small pieces of equipment. Maggie thanked the ambulance staff and shut the heavy front door. The exhausted doctor then wandered slowly into the temporary ward and eased herself onto the couch. She leant back and silently observed the one-way mother-daughter interaction going on across the room. Joyce had remained with her daughter ever since she had been brought into the house, holding the girl’s hand the entire time. Buffy had fallen asleep again in the ambulance on the way to the house, but that was only to be expected, as her body was using all its energy to repair itself. And it must be a considerable amount of energy. An x-ray taken quickly before they left the hospital showed that the various fractures in Buffy’s skull were now only barely discernible. The exterior structure of her head would probably be entirely healed within a few days.

Slowly Maggie’s eyes closed and she began to drift off to sleep. She’d been working the night shift for two straight weeks and had only had a few hours sleep since this unusual case had been brought in two nights ago. Not that sleep deprivation was a new thing for her. This nap was more like a trained reaction by her body to regard any moment of relaxation as an opportunity for rest.

"Oh, you poor thing. You must be exhausted." Maggie’s eyes snapped open immediately and she met Joyce’s worried look with a smile.

"Nothing I’m not used to." The doctor stood up and stretched her tight muscles. After two days just sitting and standing she could really do with a jog right about now.

"Can I make you some lunch? I’m not sure what we’ve got in the fridge..." Maggie’s stomach murmured its approval of this suggestion.

"Sure. Could I ask you to...?" Joyce’s concerned eyes drifted down to her daughter.

"I’ll keep an eye on her." Maggie wandered over to stand next to Joyce. She placed a reassuring hand on her shoulder. "She’s going to be okay. I’ve never seen anyone recover as quickly as this." Joyce smiled at her and relinquished her grip on her daughter’s hand.

"I know... I just hope we can keep her safe." Maggie didn’t respond to this, unsure of exactly how or why Buffy was in danger, but not doubting that it was true. A few moments passed in silence as they both regarded the peacefully sleeping girl. Then Joyce reached out her hand and stroked Buffy’s hair one last time."I’ll go get your lunch."

"We’ll be right here when you get back." Maggie grinned, trying desperately to ease the woman’s fears but only managing to raise a faint smile in return.

A few minutes after Joyce left there was a heavy pounding on the door.

"Want me to get that?" Maggie called from her bedside post.

"I got it, thanks." Joyce, having apparently hurried from the kitchen at warp speed, was at the door already. There was a brief silence before Maggie heard the door creak open.

"What do you want?" Buffy’s mother attempted to whisper but the hard edge of anger in her voice carried to Maggie’s keen ears.

"Joyce... you must listen to me. I don’t know what’s going on or what you’ve been told but you have to believe me, the Council’s done nothing to Buffy." It was a English voice, low but rising slightly due to the speaker’s obvious agitation.

"Nothing! How can you, of all people, expect me to believe that? My daughter is lying in there with heaven knows what permanent damage to her head because of your Council. And there’s no point in you denying that they’re trying to kill her because I saw it first hand."

"Mrs Summers, you really are being quite irrational..." Another English voice, this one more business-like than the first.

"Just get out of here, the lot of you. I don’t want to see you ever again. And tell your bosses not to bother trying again. We’re keeping her safe now."

Joyce attempted to close the door but it struck hard against something. Maggie, who had been slowly moving towards the doorway since she had first heard Joyce’s evident distress now moved quickly. She hurried into the hallway to see Joyce frantically trying to push the door shut. The doctor grabbed Joyce’s hand, released her grip on the door and flung it wide open. Joyce backed off to stand at the foot of the stairs. Standing on the porch were two rather shocked looking men in suits and a tall, tanned girl.

"What the hell is going on here?" Maggie demanded this information from the taller, older man who was evidently the leader of the group. At least, his foot had been jammed in the door.

"Sorry, I didn’t realise... excuse us. How is Buffy? It is rather imperative that we see her."

He sounded much calmer and more reasonable than he had when Joyce had first opened the door.

"It’s them, they’re the ones trying to kill her."

Buffy’s mother, on the other hand, was now shrieking. She rushed towards the doorway with the apparent intention of chasing the would-be assassins away. Maggie threw out an arm to restrain Joyce then turned back to the doorway. The brunette doctor looked at the little group gathered on the porch. They didn’t look dangerous, unless they were planning to kill Buffy with a pot of poisoned tea. Joyce continued to struggle to get past Maggie, all the while hurling insults. Maggie shot a quick worried look into the living room. It would not be helpful for her patient to be woken up by this sort of scene. Deciding there were obviously things which needed to be resolved the young woman was determined that any confrontation would best take place out of immediate contact with Buffy.

"You want to talk to her?" She asked abruptly, indicating the rather distressed mother with her head. The tall Englishman nodded. Maggie turned around and tried to placate Buffy’s mother.

"Joyce, there’s obviously things these people want to explain to you. Now, they don’t look dangerous to me but how about we go outside and talk and I’ll stay with you to keep an eye on them."

The woman looked very unsatisfied with this suggestion and began to object loudly. Maggie didn’t want to waste time mucking around so she took Joyce firmly by the elbow and propelled her out onto the porch. Closing the front door gently behind her, Maggie directed the rather uncomfortable looking group to move down onto the front lawn.

******

There was yelling. Lots of yelling. Each word seemed to pierce Buffy’s head like a tiny, very sharp knife. She moaned and opened her eyes. The pain from her ears quickly became of secondary interest to what her eyes were now showing her. New surroundings. It only took a few moments to recall what had happened before she had fallen asleep. She had left the hospital in an ambulance, chattering excitedly to Maggie and her mother. The girl had returned from her tests expecting to see Faith but her friend hadn’t been there. Her mother had promised Buffy that her friend would be waiting for her at home. Which, she guessed, was this place. It was a lot different to the hospital room. More cosy. But, as she took in her surroundings, Buffy noticed that a lot was still the same. The same machine beeping annoyingly near her left ear. The same horrible drip in her arm. And her head still hurt a lot. Her house was just a hospital with more luxurious furnishings and a lot more noise.

"Hey." Buffy tried to call out to whoever was making all that painful noise, but her throat was dry and the words barely made it past her lips. Then, thankfully, there was a heavy thud and the voices drifted away. Maybe someone had hit them on the head. Or maybe they were leaving. It didn’t matter, because it was quiet now and she was out of the hospital and she could go to sleep. Buffy rolled over onto her side and snuggled down into the pillow. She closed her eyes and relaxed.

"Hey, B. Wake up girlfriend."

Buffy moaned. Her quiet time had lasted a grand total of about thirty seconds. Her irritation disappeared, however, when she opened her eyes to meet a dark brown pair very close by.

"Faith!" Buffy cried out in excitement. The other girl, who was kneeling next to the bed with her head at the same level as Buffy’s, quickly reached out a hand and placed it on Buffy’s lips.

"Shh. You still wanna get out of here?" Buffy was trying to sit up, not very successfully. Her head still felt like it was about fivesizes too big.

"Can I come with you? Yeah, I want to come with you." This last statement was emphatically made. Faith smiled at her and Buffy’s face also broke into a grin when she saw that Faith was going to take her away. "Can Maggie and my mom come too?" Buffy was a little worried about leaving them there in that disguised hospital. Maybe they would be punished for letting her escape.

"They can come visit, hey? But it’ll be just you and me for a while. It’ll be a blast." Faith was helping Buffy to sit up, supporting her head as she struggled to a more upright position.

"Just you and me..." Buffy repeated, then gasped in pain as Faith accidentally caught her finger in the stitched up cut on the upper part of Buffy’s right arm.

"Geez, B, sorry. You okay?" The dark-haired girl looked so worried, Buffy couldn’t help wanting to reassure her.

"No problem. Let’s just get out of here." Faith ginned in relief and slipped an arm under Buffy’s knees with excessive caution. The tall girl’s arms were very strong, Buffy could feel that. She flexed them slightly and lifted Buffy off the bed.

"I suppose we’d better take some of those drugs." Faith murmured into Buffy’s ear. She carried the injured girl over to the trolley with the drugs on it. "Think you can pick some of them up for me?"

"I don’t really want..."

"Oh, no. You don’t have to take ‘em if you don’t want. It just might be good to have something in an emergency. Or we can sell ‘em if we need some money." Buffy really didn’t want to take any more drugs. She was sick of feeling like the whole world was an ocean she had to swim through. But Faith thought it was for the best so she slowly, painfully, leaned over and grabbed handfulls of pills, needles and little bottles of liquid. Buffy held these against her stomach as Faith carried her gently to a room which was evidently the kitchen.

"Nice of your mom to give me her house keys, wasn’t it?" Faith commented brightly as they walked out of the open back door. Buffy really didn’t understand this but she smiled anyway. Her mom did seem to be nice. The injured girl hoped that she wouldn’t be too worried about her.

"Does my mom know we’re going away?" She asked Faith, a little worried. Faith let out a brief laugh and then smiled broadly.

"Sure she does. She knows I’ll do what is best for you." That was true. Buffy snuggled down into Faith’s strong arms and relaxed into the feeling of safety they brought her.

*******

The discussion on the front lawn was strained to the point of being bizarre. Maggie could tell that they were trying to talk around some key piece of information they didn’t want her to hear.

"I can’t believe that you would turn on her like this. I can’t believe that you betrayed her again. How could you help the Council after all they’ve done?" Joyce was still on the attack, though she had calmed down her behaviour slightly to make it more appropriate for public display on her front lawn. She glared at the taller Englishman with violent disgust.

"Well, hello. Try listen to what’s coming out of your mouth sometime." The stunning girl, who only now trailed after them down onto the front path, spoke for the first time. "No wonder Buffy turned out such a freak." She added as an aside to her initial pronouncement. Joyce opened her mouth to make what was apparently going to be a stinging retort to this but was stopped by by the tall Englishman

"Uh, what Cordelia means, Joyce, is that perhaps you should analyse your statement more closely. Perhaps you the reason you can’t believe that I would turn on Buffy is that you know I wouldn’t. I mean, the testing incident was a once off. There is nothing that I would put above Buffy’s safety. But even the Council know nothing about this. None of us are responsible for what happened to her, please believe me." The man took a step towards Buffy’s mother with his hands out in an attempt to placate her. Joyce stood firm with her arms crossed.

"Giles, how can you expect me to believe you after what you did on her birthday? And Mr Wesley, I don’t care what you say. I know that the Council is planning to ..." She paused and looked nervously at Maggie before finishing, "... make alternative personnel arrangements." There was a brief silence as the three visitors tried to take in Joyce’s meaning. Maggie had no idea what was going on but was starting to get edgy. The doctor wanted to go in and check on Buffy but she felt uncomfortable leaving Joyce out here alone. Especially when she still had no idea about what these people were talking about, or what they wanted from the Summers family.

The Englishman called Giles was the first to indicate that he had taken Joyce’s meaning.

"You mean... yesterday... Who told you?" His voice was suddenly more urgent and he reached out to touch Joyce’s arm. Maggie leapt forward and shouldered herself into a position between the two of them.

"I have no idea what you’re up to, buddy, but I don’t trust you. So, let’s just respect each other’s personal space and no-one gets hurt, okay?"

"It’s okay, Maggie." Joyce placed a reassuring hand on Maggie’s shoulder and gently moved her aside. She fixed a steely gaze on Giles. "It doesn’t matter who told me. But you won’t get a chance to get your new slayer. She’s out of your control now and we’re going to take good care of her."

What the hell was all this about? What the hell was a slayer? And what was this Council they all kept talking about? Maggie’s head started to hurt as she tried to comprehend what sort of a mess she had got herself caught up in. Sounded like some kind of crazy cult.

"I must protest. There is no evidence at all of Council involvement and I have personally been assured..." The younger man, Wesley, piped up again. His voice was clipped and unemotional. Giles spun around and hissed at his younger compatriot.

Shut up, man. Can’t you see what’s going on?" The Englishman spun back around to face Joyce. "Someone’s been trying to turn you against the Council, haven’t they?"

"There’s no questioning of me turning against the Council. The Council have turned against the slayers. They’ve always treated Buffy abominably but they’ve gone too far this time."

"I knew it. Faith! What has she been saying to you?" Giles leapt forward and grabbed Joyce’s arm. He gripped it tightly as he continued speaking. Maggie was so lost in trying to follow the conversation that she forgot to react to this infringement of her ‘no physical contact’ rule. "Listen to me, Joyce. Faith is seriously disturbed. She has been involved in a rather unfortunate incident and is in shock. Furthermore she has cause to hold a rather large grudge against the Council, which could explain anything she’s told you." In the middle of this last sentence the older man spared time for a withering glance to his young lookalike before returning his earnest gaze to Joyce’s eyes. Buffy’s mother squirmed uncomfortably, freeing her arm from Giles’ grasp.

"No, that’s a lie. Faith is fine. She wants what’s best for Buffy..."

"Sorry to un-delude you but your golden girl is a psycho to the infinite degree. She staked that deputy mayor guy and squeezed Xander’s neck till his brains almost came out of his ears." The girl wandered off after she made this statement, evidently bored by this drawn-out confrontation.

Joyce shook her head vehemently. "No... no. That’s not true." But there was some hint of uncertainty in her voice.

"I’m afraid it is, Joyce. She killed the deputy mayor accidentally and has apparently been suffering some form of post-traumatic stress."

Giles’ voice had softened considerably and he placed his hands gently on Joyce’s shoulders. Maggie’s confusion, while still acute, was pushed aside. This Faith girl. Buffy and her mother had both been talking about her. Saying she was coming to look after Buffy. And now she turns out to be some kind of murderer. The doctor looked uneasily at the front door, now more uncomfortable than ever about abandoning her post beside Buffy. Joyce was still shaking her head in a weak denial, but she had started to cry.

"She couldn’t... she’s not..."

Giles slowly took the now sobbing woman into an embrace, comforting her silently as acceptance and realization set in. The other man stood uncomfortably, grimacing at Maggie between glances at the girl now draped dramatically over the hood of the red sports car parked in the drive. Maggie’s head pounded.

"Maybe we should..." The doctor didn’t get to finish her suggestion that they continue the conversation inside. Two people she remembered as Buffy’s picnicking friends came running up the sidewalk and arrived panting into the Summers’ front yard. Giles abandoned the still sobbing Joyce and hurried up to the pair.

"What is it? What’s wrong?"

Theyoung girl was obviously distraught. Maggie wondered if this situation could possibly get any worse than a cult containing members with tendencies towards murder. Xander recovered his wind first to offer an explanation which seemed to enlighten the Englishman.

"Angel’s in jail. He left a message on your machine. Apparently Faith is less departed than we might have hoped, and also a little less adjusted to being a happy member of society."

But Angel isn’t he... turned?" Joyce had stopped her crying and was now looking at Giles and the two young people in confusion.

"No." Giles left no room for doubt on this issue. Joyce closed her eyes as if she had been struck.

"Faith told me... I believed her." Giles walked back over to Buffy’s mother and grasped her shoulders once more.

"When did you last see her?" Joyce nodded slowly as if trying to gather her thoughts.

"Just before we left the hospital. Oh my God. I was going to let her take Buffy away. To keep her safe from the Council and Angel."

"Does she know where Buffy is now?" Giles asked insistently. Joyce just sobbed in confirmation. Suddenly, everyone seemed to spring into action. Giles and the two new arrivals bounded up the steps of the front porch and hurled themselves into the house. The younger Englishman wasn’t too far behind them but tried to make a more dignified entry. Maggie was left standing perplexed on the lawn with a sobbing and confused Joyce. The doctor put her arm around Buffy’s mother and assisted her into the house. The tall brunette wandered up behind them.

"Welcome to the centre of all that is dysfunctional. And believe me, putting your life in constant danger lacks the glamour you might expect."

Maggie was glad that the girl apparently didn’t require an answer because she still had no idea of what anyone was talking about. The three of them made it slowly into the lounge room to be confronted by a rather despondent Wesley.

He managed to yelp a rather hysterical cry of "She’s gone!" before rushing past them and out the front door. The others had apparently all gone out the back door. Which left a speechless doctor making a futile attempt to revive Joyce, who had collapsed to the floor at the sight of the empty bed.

"Typical." announced the tall brunette as she wandered over and flopped onto the couch.

******

Faith had parked the Caddie just down the side street nearest to Buffy’s house. They’d only have to go past about five houses to get to the getaway car. Faith figured that, even carrying the injured slayer, she could outrun the Scoobies over that distance. It hadn’t been any trouble at all to sneak down the side of the house and past the little mothers’ meeting in the front yard, even allowing for the delicate load she was carrying. After that it was all plain sailing on smooth sidewalk. Faith was concentrating hard on walking as fast as she could without jolting her fellow slayer. She was pumped about how lively and alert the injured girl was. But when Buffy grasped her even more tightly and snuggled down into her embrace Faith nearly tripped over. Luckily her superb natural balance kept her upright and moving forward, despite the fact that her legs had seemed to form into some kind of jelly-like substance. Buffy fell silent and for the first time Faith felt some doubts about her plan. What if Buffy’s memory came back and she wanted to come back to this dump? Then what would Faith do?

Luckily these negative thoughts were interrupted when they rounded the corner to be greeted by the sight of the large, bright car.

"Wow, is that your car? It’s really pretty!" Buffy broke her own revere to express her admiration for the shiny and cheerfully coloured vehicle. Faith grinned. She knew Buffy would like it, it was totally her kind of thing.

"Yup." Faith said with proprieterial pride. Then she realised that they had a problem. How was she going to open the door of the car with both her hands fully occupied in supporting the injured Buffy? "Ummm..."

She didn’t need to go any further. Buffy turned to her and smiled, grasping the problem immediately. "Kneel down" the tiny slayer commanded and instinctively the younger girl obeyed, kneeling next to the passenger door. Still managing to balance the variety of medicines on her stomach with one hand, Buffy tentatively lifted the door handle and Faith shuffled backwards. Between the two of them the door swung wide open, revealing the back seat bed. Faith had piled pillows against the far window and into the gap between the front and back seats. The entire back section of the car seemed to be swathed in blankets and quilts. Looking at her handiwork the dark-haired slayer wondered if she hadn’t gone overboard. After all they were still in sweaty old California, at least for awhile.

There wasn’t time to do any rearranging, anyway. Gently Faith helped the injured girl into the car, holding her hand behind the blonde head to make sure it didn’t encounter any unexpected jolts before it was slowly lowered onto the waiting pillows. When Buffy was in position and her carer was satisfied that she was safely and comfortably tucked in the injured girl smiled.

"Thanks, Faith."

"Well, I don’t know how wicked. But I hope you’re not expecting me to help you stay awake... I’ll be sleeping here quite happily." Faith grinned in response. She took hold of the drugs Buffy was still reluctantly holding and dumped them through the open window onto the front passenger seat.

"Ready to blow this joint?" Faith quirked an eyebrow. Buffy smiled adorably and nodded slightly.

The dark-haired slayer, gently closed the left rear door of the car, making sure Buffy’s feet were safely out of range. She spun around and was about to head over to her own door when she got a stomach-lurching surprise. Xander came racing down the Buffy’s road. Instinctively she ducked down and tried to make herself as flat as she could against the side of the car. For a moment she thought it was going to work. The dopey guy ran up to the corner of the road and prepared to cross. As he did so, however, he shot a glance down the side street. The bright yellow car was hardly going to be inconspicuous on the sleepy suburban street. Faith groaned as Xander’s eyes met hers and instantly filled with hate. The slayer leapt into action. She stood up and quickly glanced into the car. Buffy, good to her word, had snuggled down into the considerable padding and appeared to be already asleep. At least she didn’t have to worry about her fellow slayer remaining anything but fray-adjacent. And hopefully fray-oblivious.

Xander didn’t waste any time calling for reinforcements. He ran at her wildly. The slayer smirked. It was almost pathetic how easy this was going to be. Her only interest now was doing this fast and quick and getting the hell out of here. Faith strode towards the oncoming young man, savouring the sight of the anger in his eyes shifting slightly into fear. But, she had to give him one thing, he kept on coming. The idiot ran right into her fist. Pathetic wasn’t the word. She just lifted her right hand, stuck it out and he did the honours. Xander lay groaning on the road. Faith hovered over him for a second, her body itching to pound him till he was a bloody heap. Luckily for him she had cleaned out one last vamp nest this afternoon, just for old time’s sake. Otherwise he would’ve been a goner, time limit or no time limit. Instead she grinned at him and left him lying there in the middle of the road. If she hurried, maybe he’d still be there when Faith drove off and she’d be able to run over a few of his limbs. This put a spring in the girl’s step as she hurried back to the car.

Suddenly the slayer’s overactive hearing caught a noise behind her. Faith spun around just in time to see Xander launching himself at her. The slayer was momentarily off balance and his tackle threw both of them to the ground. Bastard. Playing possum. What a low trick. Now he was a problem rather than just a nuisance. The weak but determined young man held her shoulders down as though he was going to be able to keep her pinned there.

"Faith, just let Buffy go and you can leave town. Honourable banishment." Xander was puffing and his eyes were pleading with her. He knew she could kill him at any time, and that she would given half a chance. The things we do for love. Faith smiled at him menacingly.

"Sorry, little buddy. No deal." She brought both her knees up swiftly into his stomach, driving them up hard into his ribs. Instantly, he let go of her shoulders to grasp the injured area. Just as quickly the slayer had a firm grasp of his upper arms and rolled him over onto his back. Instead of taking up the top position the lithe girl leapt to her feet. All this lying down was okay for some things but it just didn’t make for a fun fight. Xander struggled to his feet only slightly more slowly than she did, still trying to recover his wind. She didn’t give him a chance, bringing up her right knee and driving her foot at full extension into his stomach. Xander was propelled a few yards backwards, landing with a groan in the middle of the road. Faith strode over as he managed to struggle to his knees. She grabbed his dark hair and pulled him to his feet.

"Listen closely, okay. And tell your friends. From now on things are going to be the way they’re supposed to be. The slayers are going to live how we were meant to live. And any of you freaks who get in our way... well, let’s just say the next one won’t get off this lightly. Just think of this as my going away gift." Still pulling his hair tightly, Faith thrust Xander’s head down onto her swiftly rising knee. She could feel the bone and cartilage shattering against her kneecap. It made a beautiful crunching sound. Xander screamed and then went limp. He’d passed out. Faith snorted. A broken nose and a few broken ribs, how weak was that? Maybe one of the ribs pierced something vital. Faith dragged the unconscious Xander off the road and dumped him on the sidewalk. She hoped he recovered consciousness, at least enough to give her warning to the rest of the Scooby Gang.

Suddenly remembering the continuing danger Faith cursed herself for taking so long in getting rid of Xander. The Sunnydale slayer groupies seemed to have some kind of crazy radar for injury amongst their pack. They probably split up to look for her but the rest of them were bound to show up on the scene soon. Faith didn’t want to muck around taking them all out. The slayer raced back round to the driver side of the car and slipped into the driver’s seat. The keys were still in the ignition so Faith just had to turn them. The engine roared to life and Faith shifted the car into gear. She pulled the Cadillac away from the kerb and drove up to the intersection. Tempted as she was to have one last gloat she turned left, rather than making the right-hand turn that would have taken them past the Summers’ house once more. Only when they were cruising at a comfortable escape speed did Faith adjust her rear view mirror so that she could check up on Buffy. The dark-haired slayer was surprised when very alert green eyes met hers in the mirror.

"What was that about?" The injured slayer’s voice sounded more curious than anything else. Probably because pretty much all Buffy could remember was people trying to kill her.

"That guy was trying to hurt you. I had to stop him, but he’ll be okay." Faith added that last part almost nervously because, although she didn’t give a shit if Xander was okay, she was pretty sure Buffy would.

"I remember him from the hospital. He’s called Xander or something. Funny, he seemed okay..."

"He didn’t want me to take you. He wanted me to leave you there alone." Why did she feel the need to justify herself? She could tell Buffy anything and she’d believe her. But, somehow, that wasn’t how Faith wanted it to be.

"No way. I want to go with you. I’m glad you didn’t listen to him." Faith smiled as Buffy looked at her worriedly in the rear-vision mirror. "Besides, he’s going to be all right..."

"Sure, no sweat. And don’t worry, there’s no chance of me going anywhere without you, B." Buffy returned the smile now and a comfortable silence filled the car as the injured girl’s confusion and fear drifted away. Slowly, Buffy removed one of her arms from the tight cocoon Faith had tucked her into and raised it. Wordlessly, she gently placed her hand on Faith’s shoulder and let it rest there.