Faith was swearing loudly."Fucking dog. Next time I’ll flatten more than your damn tail." Buffy rubbed her eyes as they adjusted to the light. The last red rays of the sunset were reflecting off the ocean, directly into her eyes. It was the light breeze blowing through the half opened window at her feet which had intially disturbed her sleep. Now that she was awake, and the car had returned to its usual smooth ride, the cooling movement on her face and toes was really very pleasant. The drowsy girl stretched her arms out in front of her as she waited for her eyes to adjust to the light. As she did so she noted the enjoyable freedom of movement which accompanied a complete absence of tubes coming from any part of her body. Buffy smiled and turned her head to see Faith watching her warily in the rear vision mirror

"Hey." Buffy said, closing her eyes and stretching again.

"Hey yourself. How are you?"

"I was enjoying my snooze time. ‘Till someone decided to try out for the formula one circuit."

Faith’s eyes, which had returned to the road, met Buffy’s again, full of apology. "Sorry about that. Some dog was sleeping right in the middle of the damn road. One dead dog if I ever see it again." Buffy could see her friend’s hands tighten on the steering wheel.

"No sweat. I think it was just about Buffy’s wake up time anyway. How long was I out?"

"Only a couple of hours. Do you need to stop or anything?" Faith raised her eyebrow to accompany her question and Buffy responded by shaking her head in the negative. "Just let me know when you do. I was planning on motoring straight through the night."

"Sounds like a plan to me." A good plan at that.

Buffy couldn’t wait to put as much distance between herself and Sunnydale as possible. Things had not been fun there at all. Faith returned Buffy’s smile and they drove along in comfortable silence. The sun had completely set now and from her reclining position the injured girl could see the light of an almost full moon reflected in the ocean. It was incredibly peaceful.

A short while later they came to a large interchange. Faith exited the road they were on and go onto one heading east. Buffy was a little disappointed that they were driving away from the ocean.

"Where are we going?"

"East. Till we find somewhere that can handle us, I guess." Under the joking tone Faith’s voice was non-committal and Buffy wondered if the other girl was telling her the whole plan. But even if she wasn’t it didn’t make much difference. Everywhere was the same to Buffy, as long as it was safe. It wasn’t like she was taking a lot of happy memories with her. They drove through till about midday the next day. Buffy went to sleep a couple of hours after sunrise and woke up to find herself being carried by Faith into a motel room. The injured girl again soaked up the incredible feeling of security which came with being enveloped in those strong arms. Once they got into the room Faith helped Buffy to the bathroom, supporting almost all of the smaller girl’s weight as she tried to take the few steps across the room. Buffy became incredibly frustrated at her inability to do anything without assistance.

"Don’t stress, B." Faith spoke soothingly, smoothing the Buffy’s hair out of her face once she was safely settled back on the bed. "You’ll be up and bouncing around in no time. Then we’ll raise some hell. But right now you’ve got to rest and not push it too hard."

Buffy tried to sleep after that, but it was hard. Faith settled down on the couch and dropped off straight away. The dark-haired girl looked so exhausted. Buffy didn’t want to wake her, but she was desperate to get up and walking. She tried sitting up on the edge of the bed first, and became dizzy almost instantly. Frowning, Buffy decided that she wasn’t going to let a bit of a headspin defeat her.

Using her relatively strong arms, the blonde girl pushed herself up off the bed to a standing position. It was not a good idea. The room started to spiral dramatically and she dropped back onto the bed. This sucked badly.

Buffy lay down and tried, for another five minutes or so, to fall asleep. The harsh sun was shining through a crack in the curtains right into Buffy’s eyes. No matter how tightly she closed them, a painful red glow remained. The sheets on the motel bed were sticky. There was no airconditioning and the injured girl was hot and uncomfortable. She hated the daytime, the throbbing in her head was always the most painful when the sun was out. Buffy let out a tiny moan of frustration. The cuts on her shoulders and arms, though healing rapidly, were still too painful to allow her to lie on either side. The most radical change of position she could achieve without discomfort was to roll her head slightly to the left or right.

She sighed again, lying flat on her back staring at the mottled yellow ceiling. How did stains like that get up on a roof anyway? Buffy ran her head across her forehead and was startled by two discoveries. The first was that she was dripping wet. Her hand came away covered in sweat. The second was that her skin was all rough. Tentatively feeling with her index finger she prodded the rough area again. There was a large wound stretching diagonally across most of her forehead, with quite a few stitches. Buffy closed her eyes as the throbbing in her head suddenly became more intense. She moaned again, this time in real pain. The moan changed abruptly into a cough. Her throat felt as dry as the desert they were driving through. She needed some water.

"Faith!" She called out, somewhat resentfully. Why should Faith be sleeping there peacefully when Buffy was hot, frustrated and sore? The other girl woke up immediately and sprung over to the bed.

"At your service." Despite the grin Faith looked drawn and tired. Buffy immediately regretted waking her friend. She tried to think of an adequate excuse.

"Sorry, I need to use the bathroom again."

"No problem." Faith gently helped her up and even took Buffy for a few laps around the motel room when the older girl insisted that she needed to build up her strength. Finally, the dark-haired girl fetched a much appreciated drink of water before returning Buffy to the bed. She was feeling much better, allowing both of them to get a much needed couple of hours sleep.

When they hit the highway again that evening Buffy’s head was still bothering her. And its throbbing pain was matched by spasms from her stomach. When Faith pulled into a drive-through take-out place, therefore, Buffy insisted that her friend get some food for her. The younger girl hesitated, but relented when Buffy commented remorsefully that she literally couldn’t remember the last time she had eaten anything. Shortly afterwards Buffy realised that she probably should have taken Faith’s advice. Almost immediately after eating she knew it had been a mistake.

Despite Buffy’s best efforts at keeping it down, her stomach just could not handle the food. Buffy threw up, a number of times, all over the back of the car. It was disgusting, especially because, despite Faith’s attempts to clean up, the smell of barf remained. Buffy felt really bad, especially when her friend looked like she was about to throw up herself. The blonde girl was ill and uncomfortable for the rest of the night.

It didn’t improve when they got to the motel. Faith, who had been in a bad mood all night, pulled off the road early in the morning. She said they’d driven enough for the day but Buffy knew that she just couldn’t stand to be in the car anymore. Her friend was starting to get edgy. She helped Buffy into the room and got her comfortable on the bed. Then Faith left again, probably to clean the car. Which left Buffy lying on the motel bed, tired, sick and in an incredibly bad mood.

The injured girl needed to go to the bathroom, and this time, she decided, she was going to do it by herself. Buffy was tired of having to get her friend to help her to the bathroom. She hated that she could only walk when she was placed virtually all of her weight on Faith’s shoulders. And she could tell that Faith hated it as well. But, Buffy had been getting stronger each time she’d gotten out of bed and with all that practice surely she could walk a few yards by herself.

Buffy was pleased by her ability to lift herself into a sitting position with relatively little effort. She took a deep breath, put aside the pain and was even able to get to her feet and take a few tentative steps across the room. Buffy would have smiled had her face not been tightly drawn with concentration. She thought about how proud Faith was going to be when she saw how strong Buffy was getting. After about four unsteady steps, however, the dizziness hit her. Buffy swayed a little but managed to regain her balance. Then she tried to take another step, but the floor appeared to have dropped about three feet below where she knew it should be.

Buffy fell forward, onto her knees. Fortunately, unlike her legs, her arms were still strong enough to keep her damaged head from making contact with the floor. She managed to slowly lower herself until she was laying on her front. As she lay there, trying to build up the strength to crawl back to the bed, the injured girl began to sob uncontrollably with the frustration of her own helplessness.

Faith wasn’t angry. Instead, the dark-haired girl seemed very worried when she came back and saw Buffy lying on the floor. She swore loudly, vaulted across the bed and crouched at Buffy’s side.

"B. What happened? Are you okay?" Buffy moaned a little, too ashamed to admit that she had collapsed due to nothing but her own weakness. "Keep still. Did you hit your head?"

Buffy muttered a no into the disgusting, brown motel carpet and tried to sit up. Gently, Faith helped the smaller girl’s efforts. She rolled Buffy over, placing the injured blonde head in her lap.

"So, what’s the deal? Trying to escape, hey? You must not leave." She said it with a mock glower and Buffy couldn’t help smiling in spite of herself.

"Guess I’m gonna have to write that novel after all."

"Well, I’m not so down with the book scene. I’ll have to come up with something else that I can Bates you into doing." Faith winked and helped Buffy sit up before hauling her to her feet. "I’m guessing you were bathroom bound before that car came out ofnowhere."

"Huh. Feels more like a rig, and it’s doing the Cannonball Run right through the middle of my head." Faith didn’t respond immediately, concentrating on helping the injured girl shuffle across the room. When they got to the bathroom door the dark-haired girl paused.

"You know, we’ve got all those meds.... If you’re feeling that bad, maybe..."

Buffy cut her off. "No. No sale. I’m getting stronger, really I am. I don’t need those things."

Faith shrugged and forced the bathroom door to slide across on its rustedrollers. "Your call, B. Just remember they’re there."

Faith hovered uncomfortably outside the bathroom until Buffy called her to let her know she was done. As she helped the injured girl stand up again Buffy could feel how tense her friend was. She was really stressing.

"Don’t worry. I’m okay, really." Buffy gave her brightest smile in an attempt to back this statement up.

"Sure, you’ll be fine. I was wondering, though.... It’s been kinda hot, and what with last night and all, you must be needing a bath."

Buffy thought about this. She was feeling pretty icky. "Sounds good. Though, I could help keep unwanted intruders away with my bare stink."

Faith gave a somewhat strained smile and sat Buffy back down while she ran a bath. Then she helped Buffy to take off the T-shirt and boxers she’d changed her into after she had been sick. With Faith’s assistance the smaller girl lowered herself into the warm water. Buffy felt better almost immediately. She closed her eyes and lay back. The bath was full almost to the top, and in this reclining position everything except her head and neck was submerged.

"I’ve always said there’s nothing better than a good bath." She murmured.

"You starting to remember some stuff?" Faith asked with genuine curiosity. Buffy opened her eyes to look at her companion, who was sitting on the floor, closely examining the pattern of the tiles.

"I don’t know. I haven’t really been trying...." Buffy closed her eyes and made a concerted effort to force her mind beyond the events of the past week or so. Immediately her head began to throb once more. She wrinkled her brow, trying to fight through the pain but it continued to build. Eventually it got too strong and Buffy moaned with the effort. The injured girl opened her eyes and gave a weak smile to Faith, who was now crouching worriedly beside the bath. "Guess I’m not quite up to it yet."

******

Faith strode down the street, looking for someone to screw. It was almost noon, they were in some dumpy town in the middle of nowhere and the slayer was almost ready to explode. Things were not turning out quite as she’d hoped. So to fight off the frustration of the situation Faith had hit the streets wearing a figure-hugging singlet top, a short skirt and boots, looking for some action. Even in this outfit, the slayer’s killer figure was attracting surprisingly little attention.

Mainly because the streets were deader than Buffy’s ex-boyfriend. Grudgingly, the dark-haired girl acknowledged the merit of the locals’ decision to stay out of the midday desert sun. The exhausted and increasingly frustrated slayer spotted a diner up ahead, on the opposite side of the street. As she wandered across the steaming tar, Faith decided that, for the moment, her body would have to make do with food. The decor of the diner was so familiar that the experienced drifter almost felt like she had come home. Faith scouted the landscape for a few seconds before heading to a booth in the back corner.

It gave her an unimpaired view of the entire restaurant, including the door. Some of Buffy’s cautiousness must be starting to rub off onto her. The young slayer flopped into one of the thickly padded red vinyl bench seats, stretching out her long legs to rest her booted feet on the seat opposite. A quick scan of the occupants of the diner told Faith that there wasn’t much hope of getting any action here. She’d be better off trying to satisfy her stomach, which had started to growl uncontrollably since she'd first smelt the aroma of grease-laden foods which filled the room. The hungry slayer hadn’t eaten since early yesterday evening and her insides were now really starting to let her know about it. A middle-aged waitress in a uniform about two sizes too small wandered over casually.

"Feet down." She demanded, without looking up from the order pad in her hand. The slayer was stunned, and removed her feet immediately. She was too tired and hungry to argue right now. Instead she offered the waitress only the faintest menacing glower. The woman’s bored expression, however, didn’t shift for an instant as she extracted a pencil from somewhere in her abundant red-dyed hair and looked up at Faith with vacant eyes. "Whaddya want?"

The young girl looked down at the menu. It promised all day breakfast, which sounded surprisingly attractive considering that the slayer had slept only three hours since leaving Sunnydale.

Faith rattled off a sizeable order. Everything, from chocolate-flavoured cereal to several servings of bacon and fried eggs, was calmly written down by the expressionless waitress, until two pages of her pad were thickly covered. The young slayer took the woman’s lack of interest as a personal challenge and began to throw in a few dishes designed to get a reaction. Like a serve of fries covered in yoghurt. "Actually, make that non-fat yoghurt."

But the pencil always moved at the same steady pace. The chick had to be some distant relative of that witch Willow’s squeeze. Eventually the slayer gave up on her quest to get a reaction. The waitress read her order back in a monotone voice and then wandered back behind the counter to the kitchen. Faith returned her feet to their earlier position and slumped back into the red vinyl cushioned wall behind her. She grabbed a handful of her thick dark hair and sniffed it tentatively. The disgusted girl dropped her hair again instantly and stuck out her tongue at the smell.

Barf. Her hair reeked of barf. So, she was sure, did her clothes. Hopefully the smell no longer inhabited the entire interior of her beautiful Cadillac. The attractive slayer pulled her hair way back off her face in disgust. The smell of barf, especially other people’s, always got to her. Just that one sniff of her hair had been enough to shift her stomach from hungry grumbling back to that awful queasy feeling she’d been fighting all last night. Still, the determined girl hadn’t thrown up then and she wasn’t about to do so now. Not when all this much-needed food was about to arrive.

To keep her mind off thoughts of nausea Faith scanned the diner once more. There were a total of five customers, including herself. In the booth opposite hers, bordered by the front window, was a young couple. The guy was wearing a cowboy hat and was aggressively attacking a huge steak. His girlfriend was fiddling with a plate of fries as she made rather pathetically pointed conversation about her cousin Sally in Florida’s wedding plans. Over at the counter, two bearded men in flannelette shirts were arguing heatedly over some sporting event being shown in flickering black and white on the television in front of them. Occasionally the chef would lean over, check the score, grunt and disappear back into the kitchen. The fifth customer was a slightly balding, weedy guy in a dirty white T-shirt. He was also sitting at the counter, trying to flirt with the extremely unresponsive waitress. Faith decided that she had definitely stumbled into the ugly part of town.

The scene was too depressingly familiar to distract her from her combined cravings for food, violence and sex. Instead, Faith let her mind drift onto the long trip ahead of them. They’d made pretty good time so far. Driving at night was an advantage because the roads were clearer and, being slayers, both she and Buffy were built to thrive after sunset. Faith had never been a big one for daytime. Even in Sunnydale, while Buffy had been stuck in school, the younger slayer had spent her days either sleeping off the activities of the night before or running continuous patrols of the Sunnysewers and dives like Willy’s bar. So her plan to ditch the Hellmouth pretty much involved going, driving from dusk till about midday. Unless, like today Faith felt they had to stop before then for some reason. Like she couldn’t stand the smell for one instant longer.

When they’d left the last town the evening before Faith had bought dinner for herself and Buffy from a burger place. It had not been the best idea. She’d got her injured friend a chocolate thickshake, some fries and a burger. Buffy must have been starved, because she’d devoured it all in about two minutes. She’d even picked at some of fries which had been waiting for Faith’s attention. That had been an encouraging sign, the dark-haired slayer had thought, until the food had made its return appearance. All over the quilts, sheets and pillows. All over the seats. All over Buffy herself. The injured slayer’s stomach hadn’t been able to handle the food, but it had managed to partially digest it before projecting it disgustingly all over the interior of the car. Faith had been so pissed off at herself. How could she have been so stupid as to have fed that crap to Buffy in the state the injured slayer was in?

She’d done what she could to clean Buffy and the car at the nearest gas station in the middle of nowhere, but there wasn’t much she could do and they had to keep driving. They both wanted to put as much distance between Sunnydale and themselves as possible. She’d just had to settle for changing Buffy’s clothes, dumping the barf-covered blankets in the boot and driving along with all the windows wide open.

They’d reached this town at about eight in the morning and Faith had decided that she’d been in the car for long enough. After they’d checked into the motel Faith had managed, with the helpful tips of the motel manager, to get the car back to an acceptable standard. When she’d returned to the room, to see Buffy lying face down on the floor, Faith had freaked out. The young slayer had stuffed up again. She should’ve known better than to leave Buffy alone. Faith had been relieved when Buffy had proved that she was okay, but it didn’t stop her being angry at herself. The slayer was supposed to be helping Buffy but she was starting to doubt her own ability to do so. She was confused and frustrated at why Buffy was healing so slowly. A long and painful recovery was something beyond either of their experiences. Faith was starting to have doubts about whether they were going to pull through this okay, and together.

The worst part had been the bath. The younger slayer had been amazed at how thin and wasted Buffy’s body looked. The tiny slayer had always been thin, Faith knew, but now her body was really showing the effects of her injuries. The cuts on her upper body, which in normal circumstances would have healed overnight, could still be seen. Whatever was going on in Buffy’s head must be taking up an enormous amount of the slayer’s healing energies. Faith had finished the task as quickly as she could and put the drowsy Buffy back into the motel bed. Then she’d motored, needing very badly to let off steam. She was frustrated, she was worried, she was tired. And in times like these there were only a couple of ways for Faith to deal.

Faith shook her head to derail this uncomfortable train of thought. Her muscles had become incredibly tense again after this unwilling reflection on the disastrous events of the past twenty four hours. Fortunately, at that instant the waitress appeared bearing the first of many trays of food, allowing the satisfaction of the slayer’s hunger to take up her full attention. The waitress’ expression finally changed slightly to become the vaguest smirk as the table was entirely covered with plates of food, with more to come. Faith knew what that smirk meant. The woman thought that there was no way the slim young girl could eat all this. The cowboy in the booth opposite, who was just finishing off his own steak, was looking across in amazement. His girlfriend spared Faith only one look of disbelief before trying desperately to regain her man’s attention. Faith smiled nicely, took up her knife and fork and attacked her first rasher of bacon.

After ten minutes of solid eating there was room on the table for the last of Faith’s order, including the rather unappetising plate of fries covered in white gunk. The waitress had the good sense to look suitably impressed as the young girl continued to put away plate after plate of food. As the last plate was manoeuvred into position Faith gave a much broader version of the woman’s earlier smirk and asked for coffee top-up. The slayer was beginning to regain her normal attitude.

Just as Faith was draining the last of the chocolate milk in her cereal bowl the door of the diner opened. A hot looking man in a suit walked in rather stiffly, rubbing the back of his neck. He was young and fairly good looking, despite his glasses. Faith regarded him speculatively as he strode up to the counter. Shortish, skinny but he was definitely passable. Maybe she would be able to satisfy her body’s demands after all.

"Good afternoon." The waitress, who seemed to have come at least partially to life after witnessing Faith’s breakfast efforts, managed to work up a half smile in response to his greeting. "Menu?" She was still keeping her conversation to the point, though.

"Thank you." The potential talent took the proffered menu and stood uncomfortably reading it at the counter. "I’ll start with a rather large pot of tea, please." Suddenly, the slayer stiffened. An English accent. The guy was English, no doubt about it. The tea and the suit just confirmed it. A watcher. Fuck. Faith was trapped, he was bound to look around any instant and the only place for her to hide was under the table. The dark-haired slayer slid down further into the seat, hoping desperately that the waitress would suddenly grow a personality and keep the watcher distracted.

"Wanna sit?" The waitress gestured to the many empty tables and booths. "I’ll get the rest of your order in a minute."

The Englishman nodded tersely and looked distractedly around the room. He took in the young couple in the front window, someone intently reading a menu in the back corner and the triplet of yokels at the counter. The booth in the far left corner, facing the street, was the farthest he could get from any of these people, so he took it. The red vinyl seat stuck rather disturbingly to his pants as he slid into it.

Charles removed his suit coat and placed it reluctantly on the seat next to him. After a moment’s hesitation, he rolled up his sleeves. Fishing in his coat pocket he found his handkerchief and used it to clean off his glasses. They were covered in dust and were grimy with sweat at the edges. Charles finished with his glasses and rubbed his temples in an attempt to remove the throbbing pain which had settled there the instant he’d arrived in this awful country. It was just like his luck to be assigned the most uncomfortable part of the search.

The young council trainee sighed and took up the menu. It had the same unfortunate sticky texture as the seat. Scanning the columns for something with some minor nutritional value without success, Charles sighed again. He was jet-lagged, he was sweaty and he was hungry. He really needed a cup of tea. The Englishman wondered what was causing the delay. Maybe they were out the back trying to find some grass with they could put in an empty sugar sachet and pass off as a tea bag. Charles smirked to himself at this image of what he considered to be highly plausible American behaviour. He looked up as the door slammed shut. The waitress was standing at the cash register sorting through a handful of cash. Charles looked back to his menu and decided to risk a blueberry muffin and some toast.

About half an hour later Charles, feeling somewhat revived and with his sleeves and jacket returned to their proper positions, stepped out of the diner back into the excruciatingly dry desert heat. The vehicle the Council had hired for them, a recent model Jeep, was parked directly in front of the diner.

He retrieved his keys from one of the many pockets in his suit jacket and awkwardly manipulated the heavy door open. The slight Englishman hauled himself up into the driver’s seat and began trying to refamiliarise himself with the instrument layout. He hadn’t had to drive this monster much so far. Thankfully.

When they had been given their assignment, directly after disembarking in Los Angeles, his gung-ho fellow trainee, Miles, had volunteered to do the driving. Charles didn’t have any great desire to relieve the other man of this duty. He was only driving the car now because Miles hadn’t wanted to eat, opting instead for a spot of training in the gymnasium on the edge of town. The man had been driving since half past five this morning and then spent the hour break they’d allowed themselves engaging in pointless exercise. It was just like Charles’ luck to be assigned a lunatic as a travel companion.

Charles snorted contemptuously at the thought of his taller, more bulky companion sweatily working at the martial arts which were an easily avoided part of all watchers’ training. As he started the car and pulled out into the highway which constituted the main road of this town, Charles laughed out loud at Miles. "The bloody fool thinks we’re actually going to encounter the slayers." Charles thought this was hilarious. The deranged Faith and her captive, the badly injured Buffy, were probably on the other side of the country by now.

"I don’t know.... It could be more likely than you think." The female voice was low and menacing and the words were growled directly into his right ear.

Charles tried to spin around to see who was in the back of the car but found that his head was tightly pinned into place by a strong arm flung around his neck. The petrified man swerved the car to the edge of the road, jammed his foot on the brakes and began to squirm about in an attempt to free himself from his assailant’s rather restrictive grasp.

"Calm down, watcher. Keep this tank moving and we’ll go for a little trip, hey?" As if to reinforce Faith’s order, for Charles had no doubt that his captor was the dangerously awry slayer, the pressure on his throat relaxed, only to allow the slayer to press a sharp wooden point painfully into his neck, just below his jaw.

The jeep resumed its progress, now at a more casual speed, as Charles desperately tried to think up imaginative ways to plead for his life.

"Left." They pulled off the highway and after just two blocks were out of town completely. Two minutes later the tarred roads turned to dirt. "Pull over." Charles did. The country around was dead flat. "Okay, time for some sightseeing. Out."

Faith removed the stake from his now very tender neck. Charles’ hands immediately flew to the injured area, checking to see if she’d broken the skin. Evidently patience was not one of Faith’s virtues. After only a few seconds delay she grabbed his short dark hair and yanked it painfully. "I said out." She threw his head forward and Charles took the hint. He grasped for the door handle and got it open. Then he flung himself out of the car, landing face first out into the dirt.

The slight man knew he had no hope against the slayer physically, and it didn’t look like she was likely to give him much chance to outwit her in conversation. As he cowered on the ground, desperately hoping that she would just drive away and leave him there, Charles deeply regretted his avoidance of all the physical components of a watcher’s training. He’d wanted to be a purely academic watcher, strictly no hands on. Now he was going to die painfully in the middle of nowhere at the hands of a seriously deranged slayer. Of all the bad luck...

Faith slipped gracefully out of the car and walked slowly towards him. She was going to make it long and painful, he could tell.

"Oh, please. I won’t tell them anything. Tell me where you’re going and I’ll make sure that they never find you there." The tall girl was standing in front of him with the sun behind her as he pleaded on his knees.

"Is the first lesson at watcher’s college ‘all slayers are bimbos’ or something? Sorry buddy, not this one." She reached out one hand and the powerful fingers dug themselves into the back of his neck. Then, with one swift jerk, he was on his feet. Charles almost fainted as he looked into the dark eyes a few inches above his. They were positively glowing with enjoyment at the violence she was about to do. "So, the way this is going to work is, you’re going to talk and I’m going to listen. When I like what I hear you’ll get a reward but if you say something wrong..." She drifted off, letting the further tightening of her fingers around his neck speak for her.

"What do you want to know?" Charles spoke quickly, desperate to do anything to avoid pain.

"Well, we already know who sent you, I guess. So, you could tell me about how many of you there are and what you’re trying to do." The fingers on his neck loosened slightly.

Charles could feel the sweat running down his arms and legs. He felt strangely conscious of the inappropriateness of his outfit. "Two. There’s two of us here. But we’re just one of the groups..." Faith had let go of the grip on his throat entirely now, and her fingers began to trace a lazy pattern up and down his neck. Charles gulped in confusion.

"Go on." She purred. The Englishman shook his head to refocus his thoughts away from his imminent death to what they’d been told at the briefing session before leaving England.

"Well, there’s...thirty of us in total. So that’s fifteen groups of two, I guess. Everyone was given an area to scout. Some of us had to drive the roads they thought you might be taking, others flew to places where they thought you might have been heading."

"Where’d they think I was going?" A slightly hard edge had returned to her voice and Charles was intensely consciousness of her fingernails on his neck.

"Ummm..." The second’s hesitation was enough. The fingernails dug in painfully. Charles yelped. "Ah, east coast. Mainly east coast. A couple of teams hung around in Sunnydale and LA but about five teams went to Boston, New York...I’m not sure exactly." Thankfully, the stroking on his neck had resumed.

"You’re doing good..." Faith stepped towards him until her hips were just a fraction of an inch away from his own. "One more right and you get a reward." She seemed to expect a response to this, so Charles gulped and nodded slightly. "Okay, so what were you supposed to do when you found us?"

"Nothing."

"Wrong." The pain which her eyes had been promising the whole time exploded into his groin as she drove her knee up. She had let go of his neck and Charles bent forward grasping the injured area. Faith grabbed the hair on the back of his head and pulled him upright, almost lifting him off the ground. "Please try again."

She was grinning.

Charles knew that whatever answer he gave was going to result in more pain. But he spoke quickly, anyway, desperately trying to convince the deranged girl.

"It’s true. We were just supposed to find you. If we did, we were to call the Council, inform them of your location. They said the rest would be taken care of, they mentioned something about specialists. I think they’re working on some spells or something to locate you but they said it was going to take a while. The council has never experienced a situation like this before." His eyes pleaded with hers, and he could almost see the instant that the intention in them switched from murderous violence.

"Damn right they haven’t. And they have no idea what they’re dealing with." Faith released the pressure on his scalp. Then, most confusingly, she was kissing him. Her tongue was thrusting itself into his mouth with more violence than any of her earlier blows. His head would have been snapped back off his neck were she not forcing it forward with one hand. The other hand jerked roughly down his chest, tearing open his shirt buttons. It was the most frightening thing Charles had ever experienced, particularly as he began to develop a desperate need for oxygen.

Then, suddenly, Faith broke off and let go of Charles completely. He fell to the ground, panting for breath. The dark-haired slayer stood over him for a moment but Charles didn’t look any higher than the booted feet in front of him, too afraid to meet her eyes again.

"It’s been a blast, watcher boy, but I’ve got to go take care of some things. You don’t mind if I take your wheels do you? Let’s not do this again." Then, as if for good measure, Faith lifted her right foot and casually kicked him in the face. As the car started up and drove away Charles was left lying on his back in the dirt, breathless and in incredible pain.

******

"Come on Buffster, you can do better than that." The girl opened her eyes and looked around in utter confusion. She was sitting at a large wooden table in a room filled with books. Sitting next to her was a young girl with the red hair. The girl was smiling at Buffy encouragingly. Buffy recognised her from the photograph she had been shown at the hospital, but couldn’t remember her name. From across the table came the young man’s voice again.

"Slot it in there, girl." Buffy looked across to see who was speaking to her. It was the guy, Xander, who had tried to stop them leaving Sunnydale. He was wearing a piece of white sticking plaster across the bridge of his badly broken nose. He too was grinning at her encouragingly.

The girl was suddenly aware of something in her right hand. It felt like it belonged there. She looked down and gave a start. The smooth cylindrical shape which had felt so familiar was a piece of round wood, sharpened to a dangerous point at one end. It, and her fingers, were covered in blood. Buffy stood up quickly and dropped the repulsive object on the table. She had a powerful feeling that she had to get away from this place. Xander and the girl continued to stare at her but their smiles had disappeared and they were now shaking their heads slowly.

"No!" Buffy screamed. They wanted her to do something. She didn’t know what it was, but she knew she wanted nothing to do with it. "No, I won’t."

Suddenly another voice came from behind her. "You must." Buffy spun around to face the man who had spoken. She noted with surprise that the sudden movement didn’t make her dizzy at all. Her eyes took a moment to focus again, however, and even when they did the man’s body seemed strangely ill-defined. She could see however that he was older than the others, yet tall and quite strong. He took off his glasses and rubbed his temples before speaking again. "You must." He repeated himself, holding his hands out imploringly. Buffy’s brow wrinkled in confusion. Who were these people and what did they want from her? Whatever it was she knew that she wanted no part of it. It was giving her a severe case of the wiggings. All she wanted was a little peace. The man opened his mouth as if to repeat what seemed to be his phrase of the day once more.

"No!" Buffy yelled again, bringing her hands up to her head. The throbbing had suddenly returned. The man took a step towards her, still holding out his hands. "Leave me alone."

Without remembering that it was impossible, the distressed girl started to run, straight through the swinging doors and out of the oppressive room. Now she was in another room. This one had stone walls and it was incredibly cold. Buffy shivered, but only partially from the temperature. It was dark, except for the fire crackling directly in front of her. Between her and the comforting glow of the burning wood was a man. He was facing away from her, leaning on his forearm over the fireplace in a pose that was strangely familiar. He was much larger than the other man, dressed all in black where the other man had been wearing a white shirt and grey pants. But the soundtrack was just more of the same.

"You must." He turned towards her as he spoke. "You are the chosen one. It’s all down to you. No matter what happens, you cannot fight your destiny." Buffy was as confused than ever, but this guy was making her feel more sad than afraid. His face was set in a blank expression but his eyes shone with emotion.

She felt compelled to explain herself to him. "I can’t."

"Buffy, listen. You can and you must." He started coming towards her and the fear returned.

"I won’t! You can’t make me." Buffy turned and ran. She couldn’t see a door this time but there were some dark drapes ahead of her.

"Don’t..." The man called as she grabbed a handful of material and yanked it aside. Bright sunlight flooded the room and Buffy could see familiar desert landscapes just outside the room. The very same instant a heart-rending scream came from behind her.

Instinctively she spun around, only to see a most disturbing sight. The man was on fire. He was just standing there, his arms still stretched out towards Buffy, screaming with pain as fire covered his entire body. But, though it was engulfed in flames, his body did not seem to be burning. Instead he remained recognisably the same guy she had been running away from. Then, just when she thought things couldn’t get any stranger, they did. He let out an almost despairing cry. "Buffy..."

The girl shuddered and moved towards him slightly in response to his cry for help. Then his whole body, still flaming, shuddered and began to change shape. He grew bigger and his limbs disappeared as his body became smoother. The flames started to flicker out but the shapeshifting continued.

Gradually the man became unrecognisable and before her was standing a hideous snake-like creature. It was about eight feet tall already, and still growing. The head of the snake hit the roof of the room and burst right through, rising until Buffy could no longer see its head. The girl was frozen to the spot, her eyes wide with fear and confusion. The slimy pulsating body was the most frightening thing she’d ever seen. And, from somewhere impossibly high above her, she could hear it laughing. The laughter, more than anything else, chilled her to the bone.

Slowly the shock wore off and Buffy realised that someone was calling her. It was a long way away but she knew the voice.

"B! Hey, Buffy, wake up."

Buffy turned around to look for her friend. Faith was out there in the desert, Buffy knew, but she would never be able to find the other girl in here. The tiny girl turned around to face the towering monster once more. Looking at it, and hearing that laugh echo in her ears, she felt herself fill with a determined hatred. She wanted to stop this monster. And she knew, somehow, that she could.

"I will." She spoke her promise softly. Then she turned around and stepped out of the stone room.

******

Buffy was covered in sweat and shifting about on the bed, muttering. Faith was worried. The younger slayer had just arrived back from her rather satisfying encounter with one of their pursuers but her good mood had been brought down by the sight of Buffy’s disturbed sleep. The injured girl looked feverish and delirious. Faith had now idea what the fuck she was going to do if Buffy got sicker. The very worried slayer went into the bathroom, grabbed a towel and wet it thoroughly with cold water. Then she went back to the bed, crouched down next to Buffy and began trying to cool down her twitching face.

The injured girl didn’t wake but her movements slowed slightly, as if Faith’s comforting was getting through. Suddenly the tiny slayer stopped moving entirely. Faith had no idea whether that was a good sign or a bad one. When the sleeping girl hadn’t moved for about a minute, however, suspense got the better of the young slayer. Gently she took Buffy’s hand and called to her.

"B! Hey, Buffy, wake up." Buffy stirred slightly, shuddered and then mumbled something. Then her green eyes slowly opened. Faith smiled broadly, trying to restrain herself from the urge to envelop the smaller slayer in a hug. "Nice of you to join us."

Buffy looked a bit confused for a moment, her eyes darting about as she tried to locate herself. "There was a monster..." Faith froze. What had Buffy been dreaming? What had she remembered? If she remembered everything surely she’d want to go back... leave Faith.... Then what would the younger slayer do? She fiddled with the sheets on the bed, avoiding Buffy’s eyes as she tried to keep her voice even.

"What kind of monster?" Buffy closed her eyes as she tried to remember.

"A huge snaky thing. Twenty feet tall at least. With a real affinity for slime, and the most annoying laugh this side of a TV screen."

Faith’s heart started again and she resumed her attempts to cool down Buffy’s burning skin. As far as the younger slayer knew Buffy hadn’t fought anything like that before so the chances were she was just having a bad dream. Unless it was a phrophetic dream, in which case it sounded like there were some wicked fun times ahead.

"Sounds like a pretty wild nightmare." She offered Buffy what she hoped was a convincing smile. Buffy looked at her for a tense moment before returning the smile.

"I guess this heat doesn’t agree with me. Thanks for waking me up." Surprising both of them, Buffy sat up quickly and gave Faith a strong hug. When the injured girl let go she didn’t lay back down, remaining upright on the bed.

"Looks like you’re getting stronger." Faith happily commented as she got off the bed and wandered over to the brown paper shopping bags she’d dumped by the door. That was a huge load of the young slayer’s mind. Hopefully Buffy had started to turn the corner. Faith picked up the bags and turned around to see Buffy inspecting her somewhat withered limbs. "So are you down for some fuel to speed up that recovery process?" The dark-haired girl held up the bags of food she’d bought for Buffy’s breakfast and received a huge smile in return.

"You must have read my stomach."

Faith headed over to the coffee table and began to prepare the food, which she hoped was mild enough for the recovering girl’s digestive system to handle. "I decided to pass on the burgers this time. Hope you don’t mind."

"I don’t think I’ll be feeling like one of those delicious balls of grease for quite a while." The younger slayer was surprised when Buffy’s reply came from right next to her, rather than the bed. She turned around to see the older girl walking towards the table. The tiny slayer didn’t falter in the slightest as she came over and sat carefully on the floor next to her friend. Faith raised an eyebrow in surprise.

"I guess you really are hungry." Buffy laughed and started picking at the spread of food. She dipped a finger into the tub of yoghurt and then picked up a spoon and started to dig into a container of pre-prepared green Jell-O.

"Hey," Faith protested, "Don’t ya’ll know that it ain’t polite to eat dessert first." She grabbed the spoon out of Buffy’s hand and tapped her on the nose with it. When the older slayer began to complain Faith silenced her by placing a finger on her mouth. "No. I’ve got some chicken soup here and you’re going to eat that first."

"But..."

"Nope." Faith dug into the bag and pulled out the polystyrene cup containing the soup. She pulled off the plastic lid and pushed the cup across to Buffy. The injured girl poked her tongue out at Faith, who responded with a mock glower.

"Okay..." Buffy conceded and began devouring the soup hungrily.

Faith smiled and continued to pull out more of Buffy’s breakfast. As she did so she contemplated the next stage of the slayers’ road trip. "I was thinking of maybe heading to a city. Any preferences?"

*******

The next few days washed over Buffy in a sleep-filled haze. They drove for a couple of nights before they found someplace they could settle down. Buffy couldn’t say exactly how long they drove, or even in what direction. She just slept most of the time. Whenever she was awake she felt more together than she had for a long time. Better than she could ever remember feeling before. Every time she tried she could do a little more. She could walk a little further, stay awake for a little longer, teach her body a new trick.

Faith was amazingly attentive, pulling over at the side of the road whenever Buffy felt that she could do with some more exercise. They would walk around at first, then the younger girl encouraged her to lift the pace to a slow jog. Buffy knew she would never forget the pure joy of the first time she cranked her body up until it reached a full-speed sprint. She’d only been able to maintain it for a couple of minutes but that time had been pure exhilaration, the cool night air whipping past her ears, the amazing sensation of her feet almost floating over the dusty ground. It had been intense.

And Faith had run alongside her every step of the way, yelling in jubilation. When Buffy had pulled up, out of breath but laughing, the taller girl grabbed her and pulled her into a tight embrace. They stood in each others arms. Buffy wasn’t really sure that Faith wasn’t keeping her on her feet. It wasn’t until her heart rate slowed back to something resembling a normal pace that the younger girl relaxed her hold. Buffy hadn’t been ready to let go entirely, finding Faith’s hand and resting her own in it, without meeting resistance, they walked slowly back to the car.

They didn’t stop at motels anymore. One night, Buffy woke up to find they were stopped for the first time in a long time. Faith was fast asleep in the driver’s seat, lying on her side in an attempt to get comfortable. The older girl moved as quietly as she could, knowing that her friend needed all the sleep she could get. With extreme caution Buffy shifted in the back seat until she was sitting upright, watching Faith sleep.

The dark-haired girl looked so peaceful in her rare moments of sleep, a huge contrast to the tense frown she was beginning to wear more and more often when awake. Even worse were the ever increasing black rings which were threatening to swallow up Faith’s beautiful dark hazel eyes. The younger girl tried to keep it from Buffy, always quick with a smile or a joke when she noticed that she was being watched, but she knew something was worrying Faith. Buffy also knew that Faith need rest badly, so she sat, quite still, watching over her friend. Faith groaned a little in her sleep and began to squirm in her seat. It looked uncomfortable to Buffy, but it was evidently not enough to wake her up.

The older girl frowned slightly. She hoped Faith wasn’t having a nightmare like the one she’d had a few days back. The blonde girl still shuddered every time she remembered it, and was just thankful that the burning man and the gigantic snake hadn’t chosen to invade her sleep again.

Faith groaned again and rolled over until her head was very close to where Buffy was perched worriedly on the edge of the back seat. By the looks of things the exhausted girl was unlikely to wake up feeling relaxed and refreshed. Sympathetically Buffy reached out a hand and gently pushed away the strands of dark hair which had fallen across her friend’s face. The older girl didn’t remove her hand when this task was complete, instead continuing to run her fingers through the thick locks in an attempt to comfort her friend.

To her complete surprise Faith stopped her restless movements and began to sob. Still asleep, the dark-haired girl brought her own hand up to grasp Buffy’s. As she held the tiny hand tightly Faith spoke hesitantly, between sobs.

"I didn’t mean to... I swear..... I’m so sorry, Buffy. I’ll make it up to you."

The older girl didn’t know what to do. She had no idea what the dreaming girl was talking about, but the pain in Faith’s voice cut straight to Buffy’s heart. As if irresitibly drawn, the blonde girl moved forward and pressed her lips to the furrowed forehead.

She leant down and whispered into her friend’s ear. "I forgive you. Whatever you’ve done, I forgive you. I will always stand by you. Never doubt that."

As she leant back she knew that she meant it with all her heart. Faith’s tears stopped immediately. She released her desperate grip on Buffy’s hand and seemed to drop immediately into an entirely peaceful sleep. Buffy ran her hand down the side of the now peaceful face and sighed. As she quietly manoeuvred herself until she was lying down again, the bewildered girl thought about how much she just didn’t understand.

What was Faith so upset about? Had her friend really done something to hurt Buffy? Why had almost everybody in Sunnydale seemed intent on killing Buffy or keeping her away from Faith? What had two of them done to cause so much hatred? She wondered if she would ever remember. As she did, she decided that she didn’t much want to. There seemed to be so much pain there, Buffy hoped that she never had to go back. But at the same time, she somehow knew that her dream, the giant snake she had to kill, was waiting for her to return. Just before she drifted off to sleep Buffy realized how many promises she’d been making. Without any idea of how, or if, she could follow through.

*****

Faith hit the road with a plan. It wasn’t much, but it was a start. She hadn’t played things all that smart over the last few days, but that was going to change. Once that junior Watcher managed to pry himself off the tar and haul his beaten carcass back into town the chase would be on. Beating the shit out of him could probably be added to her list of slightly stupid choices.

But, dammit, it had been satisfying. And mildly educational. The Watchers were looking for them the old fashioned way. Very quaint. But once they got their shit together and worked up some hocus-pocus it would be game over for the Slayers. Buffy would be packed off for reconditioning or worse. Faith would be toast for sure. They’d never forgive her for stealing their precious weapon, and the Scooby gang sure weren’t going to leap to her defence. But, that was cool. It was just going to make this more of a challenge. There was no way Faith was going to be beaten by all those losers.

Buffy’s extended periods of sleep gave the younger slayer plenty of time to think as she drove east. The Watchers would be all over that dumpy town by tomorrow morning. And they’d probably figure she was going to keep heading east. They seemed to have about that much respect for her intelligence. And Faith didn’t want to spoil their image of her.

She drove that way for a few more hours, stopping regularly at diners or whatever stores were open in the towns she passed through. She flirted outrageously with pump attendants, convincing them to check under her hood for the source of imaginary rattles. The dark-haired girl made a point of explaining to everyone she met that she was headed for the east coast, asking clueless locals the quickest way to get to Miami. She pointed out to them her sick sister in the back seat of the car. People were going to remember the slayer for a hundred miles along that stretch of highway. Then, abruptly, she turned north and floored the accelerator. Faith was headed for the last place they’d expect to find her.

Now the slayer really drove with a purpose. She kept to backroads as often as possible, occasionally taking the big yellow car over pot-hole ridden dirt tracks to avoid passing through two-bit towns. Faith seemed to have an internal positioning system, driving on instinct and always hitting the right road. She drove north for the rest of that night before finding a place to pull over and sleep. They weren’t going to stop in motels anymore. Aside from the whole invisibility deal, the slayer knew that money would soon become a real issue. The way things were going, soon she’d have to try and pawn some of Buffy’s mom’s jewellery.

Once that was gone Faith didn’t know what she was going to do to support them. The biggest cash sucker was the Cadillac. Much as the young slayer loved her car, it guzzled gas as fast as her mother knocked back beer. But, with all the freedom the car gave them, it wasn’t all that expensive, especially considering the fact that it could comfortably sleep two. And, though her skills were a little rusty, Faith knew her way around the do’s and don’ts of siphoning.

As soon as she judged they’d driven far enough north, Faith headed west. All things considered the west coast hadn’t been too unkind to the slayer from Boston, and she was willing to give it another chance. After all, that would surely be the last place the watchers would expect her to show. And it did have the undeniable attraction of that wicked Hellmouth.

Faith was missing slaying bad. The last time she’d felt the thrill of a vamp crumbling to dust around her hand had been the night of Buffy’s injury. She hadn’t felt that delicious tingle on the back of her neck, telling her that a member of the sun-phobic undead was in the near vicinity, since making tracks out of Sunnydale. Suddenly, the need for it made her shake. She wanted to go slaying so bad she could almost taste it. And what better place to do the deed than demon central. What right did the Watchers have to take the fun out of slaying? And what right did they have to keep her away from the Hellmouth? She wanted to party in the centre of darkness once more, and she was going to, dammit. And, what’s more, Buffy would be there with her, fighting side by side. Faith was accutely aware that nothing else would work. They were born to slay and that’s what they were going to do.

Not that she was headed to Sunnydale. Her addiction to the Hellmouth didn’t entirely override her brain. But, somewhere close to the action. Close enough to catch the overflow and for the occasional excursion. Somewhere they could get a place and lay low while Buffy got back up to full strength. The injured slayer was now recovering nicely, but if she was going to be in any shape to slay Faith was going to have to get a pad where they could work out regularly.

Besides, all this driving was starting to get really old. Faith had decided to head to LA. Big enough for a couple of unobtrusive young girls like themselves to get lost in. And there were vamps and demons there, she knew. More than enough to keep them occupied for quite a while by all accounts. They were probably all attracted to the city by the same things she was, anonymity and proximity to the Hellmouth. What more could a vampire or slayer ask for?

As for the watchers and the Buffy Appreciation Society, they’d have to go through her to get to Buffy. Given a little time, Faith knew she could work up a few spells of her own to keep things on the right track. Surely demons would be willing to do a few favours for a slayer, if they wanted to keep vital parts of theirbodies. So, she’d get in. Get settled. Get Buffy back on her feet. They’d take it from there.

It wouldn’t take long. Already, with just an hour or so of exercise a day and a whole lot of sleeping, Buffy was running at full speed. As soon as they got a place with enough room Faith could start training the recovering slayer. They could be out dusting vamps together within a week. At first, the amount of time Buffy was sleeping had been a little worrying. But it soon became clear that rest was just what the slayer had needed. The amazing recovery speeds the dark-haired girl was used to made a welcome return and, when she was awake, Buffy was almost entirely back to her normal self.

As they got closer to their destination, however, Faith envied the older slayer’s sleeping ability more and more. The dark-haired girl was wicked tired. She’d pull over when she just couldn’t drive anymore and try and get some rest, but it wouldn’t happen for her. Usually, she’d wake up after less than an hour, shaking and with a lingering sense of fear that she couldn’t quite source. Faith knew she must be having nightmares, but the freaky thing was that she could never remember them. And for some reason, that just made them worse.

A few hours out of LA, Faith pulled over to try and get some rest. It was late at night and there was no point going any further till morning. That way they could head straight in, find some dump to rent cheap and it’d all be five by five. As soon as she drifted off this time, however, Faith knew she just should have kept on driving. The dream was on her immediately.

Just as quickly she recognised it as the nightmare that had been plaguing her for days. She was back there. They both were. She and Buffy, striding down the alley, getting ready to do what they did best. Faith was still tingling from what had been happening between them on the dance floor. Her mind wasn’t really on the job. Or at least, that was what she told herself now, watching it back. Living it one more time.

And, though she knew what was going to happen and tried desperately to try and stop it, the inevitability was suffocating. The stabbing pain in her gut as she thrust the stake into his chest. The sickening feeling as she felt his living heart destroyed by her own hand. Wave after wave of despair and self-hatred hit her. And that was even before she raised her head to meet the horror-struck green eyes, pleading for her to get help. No matter how much Faith willed herself not to, the torture of Buffy’s eyes was just as inescapable as the rest of this nightmare.

This time when she turned to look at her fellow slayer, however, things had changed. The horror, the fear, none of that was there. It was just pain. The smaller girl was not crouching over the dead man and her hands were clean. She just stood there. It was too much for the younger slayer, even in a dream. She felt something break inside her. The seal on her tears. Buffy reached out her hand and Faith took it gratefully before dropping to her knees at the older slayer’s feet. She sobbed out the words she’d wanted to say for so long, but had buried in the mental graveyard with the rest of her emotional wounds.

"I didn’t mean to... I swear... I’m so sorry, Buffy. I’ll make it up to you." Faith wasn’t even sure what exactly she was apologising for. In her heart she wanted to make right every wrong anyone had ever done to the beautiful girl standing above her. But it would be enough to be forgiven for the pain she’d caused. Enough that Buffy knew that she was sorry, that she cared. Enough if Buffy knew that she could feel.

Then, miraculously, Buffy began to crouch down until her smiling face was level with the younger girl’s. Slowly the blonde slayer lent forward and gently pressed her lips to Faith’s forehead, overcoming what remained of her control instantly with forgiveness and love. Then she spoke the words which her kiss had already conveyed. "I forgive you. Whatever you’ve done, I forgive you. I will always stand by you. Never doubt that."

It was a promise going far beyond anything Faith had hoped for. She was forgiven, now and forever. Everything faded to black.

Faith was woken by someone tapping on her window. She blinked her eyes a few times to get used to the sudden brightness before looking up to see a guy in overalls staring back at her.

Stretching her arms she rolled over to check the time on the dashboard clock. It was late. Well after ten. According to her plans they should have been safely shacked up in a LA roach-hole by now. This was going to hold them up for sure. Faith lifted her head slightly to check on Buffy and was glad to see that the older girl was still sleeping peacefully in the back seat. Then the dark-haired slayer stretched her arms and opened the door of the car.

"You okay in there? I left you all morning but my boss just arrived and told me I had to check that you hadn’t OD’d or something."

Faith got out of the car stiffly and walked around a little, stretching her legs."Sorry, nothing that exciting. Just pulled over for some shut-eye. We must have overslept." The gas station, which had looked virtually abandoned when she pulled in beside it last night, was still a long way off being a hive of activity. Aside from the yellow Caddy, its paint job now slightly muted by a thick layer of dust, the only other cars in the lot were a pair of beaten up white pickups.

"Well... If you’re okay, the boss says you’d better shove off."

Faith laughed. "And here was I, starting to almost miss contact with the human species. Tell your boss thanks for his hospitality." The slayer dug into the pocket of her jeans and pulled out a crumpled five dollar bill, handing it to the nervous mechanic with a wink. "Anyplace around here a couple of junkies can get a decent breakfast?"

The guy, busy trying to slip the cash into the pocket of his overalls without being seen by his boss, answered distractedly, nodding his head towards the last town they’d passed through. "There’s a diner a few miles that way. They do really good hash browns."

Faith thanked the guy and jumped back into the car. She was feeling decidedly perky. Amazing what a good eight hours or so of sleep had done for her attitude. She tried not to think too much about her dream, instead just revelling in the sunshiny peace of the morning. They were almost home.

******

Buffy walked around the apartment, restlessly twirling a large kitchen knife from finger to finger. She was feeling unusually restless, unable to keep still. She’d finished the exercises Faith had left her to work on in record time, even managing to do the whole set all over again without the faintest sign of dizziness.

After that, she’d cleaned the apartment as best she could, taking into account the disaster area that her room-mate had made of the living room. The apartment they’d rented wasn’t very big and it was in a pretty grimy part of town, but it had come fully furnished. One downside was the fact that there was only one bedroom, with one double bed. The younger girl had adopted the couch without complaint, but it meant that her junk was spread from one end of the apartment to another, completely unconfined. Buffy picked a black sock off the TV with her fingertips before flopping down onto the couch. She’d tossed most of Faith’s clothes into a pile in the corner earlier, to free up some space to exercise.

The tiny girl had needed more room than usual, because she’d been practising the kicks Faith had taught her the previous evening. The desperate girl tried to think of something she could do to drive the slightly uneasy feeling out of her stomach.

They’d arrived in town about a week ago, both of them awake and content, with full stomachs after a very satisfying brunch. That breakfast had been an experience in itself. When Faith had woken her that morning they’d been parked in the lot of a large diner. Buffy had jumped at the offer to go inside. Much as she had appreciated the chance to get some rest, the blonde girl felt that she was done. She was ready to get out of that car and back into the world. The food itself hadn’t been that great. But all the people had been a mind-blower. There were so many of them, all so interesting to watch and listen to. Buffy had had a great time soaking it all up. And Faith had looked like she was having fun too, way more relaxed than Buffy had ever seen her. The older girl had wanted to ask her what her dream the night before had been about, but she had a suspicion that Faith wouldn’t take kindly to Buffy talking about it. She was just happy to know that her friend seemed to have found some peace.

Buffy hadn’t slept in the car after that, moving into the front passenger seat to sit next to Faith. She was over the whole sleeping thing, full of energy and keen as anything to get involved with the world again. It had been a beautiful day, and as they had come into increasingly built up areas, there had seemed to be people everywhere. Working their way through the city that afternoon they had passed a lot of very different neighbourhoods. Buffy had felt vague tinglings of recollection.

Glimpses of houses were accompanied by a belief that she knew the people who lived there. Occasionally, restaurants would lead to flashes of taste, a meal she’d eaten there who knew how long ago. One of the shops they drove past sold shoes and it had looked so familiar that Buffy had given a cry of excitement. "I know that place. I went there with my dad."

"Really, B? You remember that?" Faith had seemed genuinely happy but had kept driving, which had disappointed Buffy somewhat. She’d hoped they could go in. Maybe the inside would help her remember more. Still, she had scolded herself, they did have a huge amount to do. Working on getting her memory back would have to wait a little while longer.

They’d found an apartment without too much trouble. And inside it hadn’t been too bad, considering the neighbourhood. It required some cleaning up, but the place was livable. At least, most of the time, when there was breathing space amongst all Faith’s junk. They had a spectacular view from their first floor window. Down into an alley where drug deals seemed to be going on day and night. And it had plenty of scope for redecorating, starting with the hideous brown wallpaper throughout. Both of the girls hated that wallpaper, but they couldn’t agree on whether to paint the walls a nice pale blue or a headache-inducing bright red. Buffy was pretty sure that she’d soon manage to talk Faith around to her vision. Then she’d have plenty of stripping and painting and designing to do.

But right now Buffy was bored, bored, bored. She wanted to get out amongst people. She wanted to do something other than training or sleeping. This was the first time she could remember being bored, and she really didn’t like it. Faith had gone out earlier in the afternoon, to get them some food or something. Now the streetlight just outside the kitchen window was glowing, the sun having disappered entirely about half an hour back, and the younger girl still wasn’t back. Buffy was starting to get pissed off, and just a little worried. She hadn’t been left alone for any considerable time before and she had no idea how to entertain herself. Faith usually went out for a while each day, but never for more than an hour at the most.

When the younger girl was home there was plenty to do. Faith had been working Buffy hard, teaching her exercises to develop strength and some self-defense moves. Buffy loved doing the kicks and punches best. As Faith showed her each movement the older girl found that they were all familiar. Her body recognised them and followed the taller, stronger one next to it easily, without hesitation or awkwardness. Often she could pre-empt what the next move in a sequence would be, surprising the dark-haired girl and earning Buffy a raised eyebrow. Buffy sighed and decided she might as well watch TV.

She wandered over, pressed the on switch and thumped the side of the set. The picture appeared abruptly, garishly red. Neither of them had worked out how to adjust the colour. It didn’t matter that much. They rarely paid much attention to what was on anyway. Often the set was just on as background noise while they worked out or ate or just sat on the couch talking. She and Faith were incredibly comfortable together, despite their regular disagreements on issues such as interior decoration. Buffy just hoped that they would still be as close after tonight. She wanted to start working on remembering her past.

Already, she’d inspected all her belongings that Faith had brought with them from Sunnydale. Unfortunately this only consisted of a pile of very crushed clothes, and they didn’t really tell her much. Occasionally, when she held a shirt and concentrated on it really hard, Buffy would get a flash of herself wearing it, usually at night. One common theme to all her outfits seemed to be cemeteries. It seemed to Buffy that she’d spent way more time than was healthy wandering amongst graves. When she tried this on certain pieces she would remember Faith walking alongside her. Those became her favourites, despite particularly creepy places she’d worn them in.

The most disturbing item was a large silver cross on a chain. Buffy had found it when going through the pockets of one of her jackets just yesterday afternoon. When she’d picked it up she’d suddenly seen the man from her dream. The burning man, this time without the bonus fire. He had appeared out of nowhere, apparently in the bedroom with her. He had walked towards Buffy slowly with his arms out. She had stood helpless, once again frozen into position while shaking uncontrollably.

"Buffy...we’ve been waiting. Willow’s cast a spell. Just hold on tight and we’ll be able to find you." As he spoke he came right up to her and enveloped her in an embrace. Buffy had felt his arms close tightly around her. They were so cold. And as she stood there for those few seconds it felt as though something was passing through her, taking away with it some vital piece of herself. This incredibly freaky sensation had snapped her back into action.

The shaking girl had dropped the cross instantly. She hadn’t picked it up again, kicking it under the bed and vowing to leave it there. That nightmare had really given her the wiggings and the last thing she wanted was a repeat performance. Particularly while she was awake. After that Buffy had given up on her attempts to recover her memory through psychic contact with her clothes. The disturbing vision had shaken her up so much that she hadn’t even told Faith about it. The last thing Buffy wanted was for her friend to think that she was cracking up. But she realised that she needed to remember more.

She wanted to go out. To walk the streets of LA, in the hope that her mind would come back from wherever it had gone on vacation. Just that brief flash of memory from the shoe store had given her a lot to work on. Buffy had concentrated hard on the image that first night, once they’d got settled in. She could now remember her father’s face, his voice and the fact that she’d bought a pair of black square-toed boots which came up to just below her knee. Which her father had paid for, despite his protests that they were entirely inappropriate.

At other times, usually late at night in bed, Buffy had tried to remember more. She pictured her mother’s face and tried to force memories. Sometimes she got lucky. She’d get a brief flash of her mother standing in a kitchen, arguing with her father. Or, more comfortingly, her mother watching proudly as a very young Buffy skated confidently past, both their faces rosy from the cold of the ice rink. There were a few others, none of them featuring any of the people she’d encountered in Sunnydale, much to Buffy’s relief. She knew she’d have to work on remembering that place eventually, but she’d decided she rather start the process as happily as possible. Way away from burning men who channelled themselves through jewellery and the so-called friends who helped them.

She needed to get out and see the city. What she’d remembered so far had almost convinced her that she must have lived here once. There were bound to be heaps of memories out there, waiting for her to get at them. Buffy knew there was no physical reason why she couldn’t go out. She just wasn’t sure if Faith would go for the idea.

The blonde girl knew that her friend was being protective, and she appreciated it. But it really was time for Buffy to be doing things for herself. She leaned back on the couch and watched an implausibly red man talk about the weather, not listening to a word he was saying. There was a terrible nagging feeling in the pit of her stomach that she couldn’t shake. What had earlier manifested itself as boredom was now well and truly established as worry. She was worried about Faith. The other girl hadn’t said she was going to be this long. Buffy didn’t even know where she had gone or where to start looking for her. Instead she had to sit here helplessly on the couch. As Buffy ran horrific scenarios about where Faith could be in her head there was a knock on the door.

Buffy jumped. The lingering cold fear took a firm grip on her stomach. Who was it? Was it bad news about Faith? Had those people from Sunnydale found her at last? Why wasn’t Faith here to protect her? What was she going to do? Indecision kept Buffy motionless on the couch. The knock came again, more of a banging this time. Buffy was glad Faith had brought home those extra deadlocks and the door chain, although she now realised that the door itself was so flimsy that anyone could smash it in half with one determined kick.

Silently she stood up and looked around for a weapon. Faith’s bow (she’d promised to teach Buffy archery as soon they found a good place to practice) was leaning against the wall in the corner of the room. But somehow the petrified girl knew that the bow would be no use at close range. Even if she had known where Faith kept the arrows. More pounding,and then a voice.

"Buffy, let me in. Are you okay? It’s me, Angel."

Buffy froze, her eyes wide open with fear. She started shaking almost uncontrollably. It was him. The burning man. His voice was unmistakable. As soon he said his name she had the unbearable sensation that she’d known it all along. Angel pounded on the door again. If she let him in he’d probably turn into a giant snake right there in the middle of their living room.

"Buffy, I know you’re in there. Let me in."

Out of nowhere a memory appeared. Angel, his face horribly distorted and his teeth formed into sharp fangs, red with blood, taunting her. Threatening her. Buffy shook her head to clear the image, hopefully forever, and resumed her search for a weapon. The only thing she could see was the knife she’d been fiddling with earlier. It was lying on the kitchen table next to the vase, which was full of bright blue and red flowers. The couch was between her and the protection of its 12 inch blade.

Angel pounded on the door again, this time apparently using his foot. The door bent a little and began to splinter. He was a big guy and Buffy knew that there was no way he’d be kept out for much longer. Without even thinking about it, she vaulted over the couch and grabbed the knife. She gripped the handle so tightly her knuckles paled and adopted a fighting stance.

"Don’t make me break the door down, Buffy. You don’t need to worry about Faith. We’ll keep you safe from her."

Safe from Faith? That was the most bizarre thing she had ever heard. The flaming snake-man was telling her he would keep her safe from the best friend she’d ever had. Buffy couldn’t let a comment like that pass without a stinging retort. She opened her mouth to reply, but was prevented by the intervention of another voice.

"Hey! What do you think you’re doing there, boy?" It was an old lady’s voice. It must have been one of the other residents, roused by Angel’s violent attack on Buffy and Faith’s door.

"None of your business... Look, I’m trying to help her, okay? That’s my girlfriend in there." Angel’s voice was initially annoyed, but gradually shifted to what Buffy assumed was his attempt at persuasiveness. It still sounded rude and abrupt. Inside the apartment the blonde girl raised an eyebrow. Girlfriend? Maybe it was true, but it sure didn’t feel like it. The thought of herself going out with the flaming snake guy made her skin crawl. The old woman wasn’t buying it either.

"I don’t think so, young man. I’m not one to pry, but I’ve seen those two girls together and they look like a perfectly sweet couple. I can understand you being jealous but violence doesn’t solve anything. Now get out of here. I’ve already called the police and there’s a station just two blocks down. I give you about half a minute before they get here." What had initially been almost friendly advice became steelly-edged threat by the time the woman was done.

There was silence in the hall for a few minutes, before heavy footsteps indicated that Angel wasn’t prepared to face the LAPD. Buffy almost collapsed with relief. She had no doubt that he would have killed her if he had got in. After waiting a few minutes, to be sure that he was gone, the still shaking girl stuck her head out the front door to thank her rescuer. The hall was empty but the door directly across from their apartment was open. Inside Buffy could see an old lady sitting in armchair, watching television. She approached the door shyly and called in. "Thank you so much."

The woman looked up and smiled. She got out of her chair slowly and shuffled over tothe front door. "I thought I might see you. How are you then, love? Not too shaken, I hope." Buffy smiled faintly and shook her head. "Glad to hear it. I don’t like to interfere, but it just ain’t right, great big, beefy guy like that beating up on a little tiny thing like you. You make sure to get the police on him, if he ever bothers you again."

"I will, thank you so much. I’m Buffy." The grateful girl stuck out her hand.

"You can call me Mrs O’Brian, dear." The woman, who had to be well into her eighties and was shorter than Buffy, ignored the girl’s outstretched hand and enveloped her in a hug instead. She didn’t let go entirely, instead stepping back and moving her hands up to cup Buffy’s face. "You’re a pretty little thing aren’t you. Quite a couple you two make."

"Couple?" Buffy blushed in confusion, suddenly remembering Mrs O’Brian’s earlier comment to Angel about she and Faith being perfectly sweet together. "Oh, no...we’re not... We’re just friends. Faith’s just been looking after me. I’ve been sick."

"Oh, I beg your pardon, dear. I just assumed. Of course, seems to me that I had fair grounds. The way you two look at each other whenever she goes out. And the flowers she brings home for you... Not that I’m one to pry, but I do notice little things like that occasionally." Buffy felt her lip twitching as she had a sudden urge to laugh. The old woman must be watching their door all hours of the day and night, drawn by the irresistable view of two girls up to all kinds of salacious activities.

Faith had brought home flowers. Yesterday in fact. To brighten up the place until they could agree on what to do about the dingy brown wallpaper. Still, it had turned out to be a good thing that their neighbour was such an old busybody. Any typical see-no-evil neighbour of this city and Buffy could be dead by now.

The amused girl thanked Mrs O’Brian again and made a swift getaway, back to the sanctuary of her own apartment. Once safely locked back inside Buffy allowed herself a laugh at the old woman’s assumptions. But the good humour soon evaporated. Faith still wasn’t back and Angel had said something about keeping Buffy safe from the younger girl. The blonde girl suddenly realised the implications. Angel could already have attacked her friend. Faith could be lying dead in an alley right now. This thought made Buffy physically ill. Even if she wasn’t already dead, Angel could be lying in wait outside the apartment for when Faith came home. Would she be able to fight him? Buffy knew that her friend was strong and skilful. But Angel was so big. And what could Buffy do to help her friend? For all she knew Angel was lurking in the stairwell.

The tiny blonde girl was entirely helpless. There was nothing she could do for herself or her friend. Buffy double checked that all the doors were locked, turned off all the lights in the apartment and sat stiffly on the couch. She was trying to think of something, anything, that she could do. But her head was starting to throb, for the first time in a long time.

Suddenly, Buffy could only think of one thing. The old stickybeak across the hall was right. She did love Faith. With all her heart. And now all she could do was sit here in the dark and pray that she’d get a chance to tell her.

******

"What did Angel do to you?" Buffy asked the question distractedly while she took a good strong grip on Faith’s upper arm. The younger girl had ranted angrily for a few minutes after Buffy had given the injection but she was starting to calm down now. Buffy watched Faith’s dark brown eyes carefully asthey began to shut.

"Bastard. Snuck up on me. Next time I see him, he’s dust..." Faith’s voice drifted off. It looked like the morphine had done its job. Buffy wasn’t sure how long the injured girl would be out for. She had had no idea how much of the painkiller to give Faith so that she’d be knocked out, but for just a short while.

To be on the safe side Buffy had injected the injured girl with what she thought was a considerable dose. She figured that Faith would be out for at least a couple of hours. At least that was the plan. Because Buffy wanted to be well and truly finished bandaging her up when she came to. The younger girl was going to be one mighty unhappy camper.

Sighing, Buffy inspected the damaged arm. It sure was a mess. The bones were sticking out of the skin at weird angles and the whole thing was just plain yuck. She had no idea how to put everything back in its rightful place. After a moment’s inspection Buffy decided that the best bet would be to follow Faith’s lead. She obviously knew which way the break had happened, so she probably knew the way to fix it. The dark-haired girl had been twisting her arm clock-wise and Buffy decided it would be best if she did likewise.

"Here goes nothing." Buffy took a firm grip on the arm and twisted. The bones made horrible grinding sounds and she could feel flesh shifting and tearing beneath her hands. Her earlier feelings of nausea returned. The blonde girl had no idea how far the bones were out of place. She just kept twisting till it felt like were in a more normal position. Buffy let go and ran her hands tentatively down Faith’s arm.

As far as she could tell everything was more or less back where it belonged. But what did she know? She wasn’t a damn doctor. As soon as Faith woke up Buffy was going to demand that they go find a medical clinic, at the very least.

Buffy inspected her hands, cringing at the sight of the large smears of Faith’s blood. She looked down at the drugged girl with a mixture of love and sadness. Faith would do anything to protect her. That was why she didn’t want to go to hospital, Buffy knew. In case Angel came for Buffy again while she wasn’t there. Just knowing this warmed Buffy’s heart. But it also made her feel incredibly guilty. The guy was after her, not Faith, and she had no idea why. Buffy reached out a bloody hand to brush a strand of hair off Faith’s face and went into the kitchen. She washed her hands thoroughly at the sink. The worried girl avoided looking out the window because she was afraid that she would see the dark figure she knew was lurking out there somewhere. When she was cleaned up Buffy looked around for something she could use as a splint. Forced to improvise, she decided on a pair of wooden spoons which had been left in one of the drawers by a previous tenant. They would have to do until the older girl could talk Faith into going to see a doctor.

When she got back to the couch her patient was muttering to herself.

"Buffy... Angel and the watchers are coming. We’ve got to get out...." As far as Buffy could tell, Faith was still out. But it looked like it wouldn’t be long before she woke up. That morphine dose must have been smaller then she’d thought. Kneeling down next to the fidgeting girl Buffy tried to get the splint on as quickly as she could. While she was using one of the bandages to wrap up the arm, however, Faith’s eyes flickered open. She jerked awake and tried to sit up.

Buffy reached an arm up and grabbed Faith’s right shoulder to keep the taller girl still. "B. Angel... He’s coming." Buffy looked up at her friend and smiled reassuringly.

"Sit still. I know. Angel’s coming. But I’ll be ready for him."

"How can you... You don’t know what to do." Faith was panicking and squirming around on the couch. It was making Buffy’s job something of a challenge.

"You’ve got to sit still, hon. Why don’t you tell me about Angel while I do this?" The dark-haired girl looked down at Buffy sceptically. "C’mon. There’s nothing you can do like this, so you’re going to have to give me something to work off. It’s not ideal but it’s the best we can do." Faith sighed and flopped her head back against the couch. Sensing that the injured girl was distracted, Buffy grabbed the two wooden spoons and began strapping them tightly to Faith’s arm.

"Fuck! Son of a bitch that hurts, B." Apparently full feeling had returned to the younger girl’s body. Buffy gripped the damaged arm as strongly as she dared and gave Faith an apologetic look.

"Sorry. I’m doing this as gently as I can. Now, talk." Faith squirmed one last time before apparently giving up.

"Okay." And, somewhat to Buffy’s surprise, the younger girl began to talk. "Deal is, you’re not going to believe me right now. But I’m telling the truth. And I want you to remember that I told you."

Faith paused and Buffy distractedly murmured her agreement. She was wondering if she should use all the bandages up on the broken arm or use some to try and strap whatever injuries had been done to Faith’s ribs. "B, quit fucking around with that. This is important. I need you to listen." Buffy realised that the younger girl was speaking more seriously than she had ever heard before.

She tied off the bandage and moved up to sit next to Faith on the couch. "You’re going to tell me why they’re after me." The younger girl nodded slowly. She was obviously still in pain but Buffy was so keen to hear what Faith had to say that she didn’t make any effort to press more pain killers on her.

"Angel, that fucking bastard, is your ex boyfriend. But he’s also a vampire. You and I are vampire slayers. We’re the chosen two. There’s vampires and we kill them." Faith grimaced and tried to shift to a more comfortable position. "I’m not telling this right, but I’m sure you’ll get the details later."

The dark-haired girl paused to take a few laboured breaths, giving Buffy a chance to absorb what she had said. Her first reaction was that she had given the injured girl way too much medication. Or that Faith was still suffering the effects of a knock to the head. But that feeling didn’t last long. It was replaced almost instantly by overwhelming stirrings of recognition. What Faith was saying, while it was off the scale of truly unbelievable statements, struck a deep vein in Buffy. As the dark-haired girl went on she found herself instinctively accepting everything that was being said as true. And she found herself remembering things. Snippets of her life flashed across Buffy’s mind while the younger girl spoke.

"Okay, so there’s these guys who are supposed to look after us, Watchers. And they’re the ones working with Angel. Oh, and also probably your supposed friends. Willow is this witch chick and Xander is..., well he’s not a threat. But they’ll all probably come for us. They want you back to slay for them, if they can get you to remember how. Is any of this setting off any bells and whistles?" Faith looked up from where she’d been fiddling with her bandaged arm. Buffy wasn’t sure from her expression if the dark-haired girl wasafraid or hopeful.

"I’d have to say that this interpretation of reality does border on the Springeresque. But it doesn’t feel all that wrong..." The blonde girl paused, wrinkling her forehead in thought. Watchers, witches and vampires. Everything in her head was falling back into place, very slowly. "Isn’t there a werewolf involved somewhere there too?" Buffy looked at Faith questioningly and wasn’t surprised when the dark-haired girl nodded. "So, I guess that’s a tick in the ‘I believe I’m a vampire slayer’ column for me too. But why are we running away from the Watchers, if we work for them? And why would I go out with Angel?" Faith smirked slightly.

"I’ll pass on that last one, thanks. Sure beats the hell out of me. But the thing with the Watchers is...complicated. They’re after me to punish me for a mistake I made a while back. And they wanted to brainwash you or some shit. Mostly it’s just that they think that they own us, which is very fucking untrue." The younger girl broke off. She closed her eyes and ran her hand through her long dark curls. She looked incredibly drawn and tired. Buffy realised what a strain dealing with all this must have been on her friend and was again filled with gratitude. She reached out and rested her hand lightly on Faith’s knee.

Faith opened her eyes and smiled sadly. "Look, B. If I get the chance, I’ll get my head together and tell you everything right. But for now I need you to remember something for me. If we’re separated, if you decide to go with those guys, or whatever --" Buffy broke her off.

"No, no. That’s not going to happen. I’m staying with you, forever."

"Look, you can’t say that. Not without knowing everything. They’re gonna tell you stuff about me which you won’t like. And I just want you to... just believe in me like you do now. This here is me, not the horrible bitch they’ll tell you about. Okay?"

Buffy suddenly remembered one night on the road. Faith had been having a nightmare, begging Buffy’s forgiveness for something. The older girl had given it wholeheartedly then and she wasn’t about to change her mind. Now or ever.

"Faith, I love you." She paused, unsure of how to go on. Buffy hadn’t meant to blurt it out like that, but Faith had looked so worried. It was the only way she could think of to reassure Faith that she would never feel anything less than absolute respect and affection for her. Respect, affection and a whole lot more.

"You don’t --" Again Buffy cut the dark-haired girl off.

"Stop. You’re not going to tell me how I do or do not feel. Whatever happened in the past is in the past. Period. I’m the able-bodied one here now so I guess that makes me the boss. So, my first rule is that I love you. And the second is that I’m going to make sure that we’re never apart." The blonde girl didn’t doubt for even a second that Faith felt the same. The look in her dark eyes told Buffy everything she’d been longing to hear for what seemed like forever.

Takingadvantage of the dark-haired girl’s momentary speechlessness Buffy leant forward and pressed her lips gently to Faith’s. The other girl didn’t respond immediately. It took about one second. And then her lips sought out Buffy’s hungrily. But the older girl asserted herself again, keeping their contact slow and gentle. She wasn’t in any hurry.

******

They used a sledgehammer on the door. Buffy and Faith had been sitting close together on the couch. They had just broken off the amazing contact of that first kiss and Buffy was busily admiring the indescribable beauty of the dark-haired girl at very close range. They both knew that they really should be getting out of there, and quickly. But just for that moment they had managed to shut out everything going on outside their apartment. For now it was just the two of them that mattered. So, Buffy was a little on the pissed off side when they were interrupted. Particularly by the violent shattering of their door and the uninvited entrance of several people with weapons at the ready.

From the looks on the intruders’ faces the scene they walked into wasn’t quite the one they’d been expecting to encounter. They all looked stunned, sure. But there also seemed to be a shared feeling of disappointment that Faith didn’t have Buffy chained up to wall with a bowl of water the only available nourishment. The blonde slayer could place them all instantly. Giles, her watcher, led the charge into the room. He at least had the decency to redden slightly, though that was probably more the shock of realising that the slayers were together than from embarrassment at his own house-breaker status. The Englishman was carrying a crossbow (her crossbow!) for some unknown reason. Perhaps he had been expecting to have to hunt the slayers down. Some kind of jolly fox hunt.

Close behind, still brandishing the sledgehammer, was Xander. His nose was free of bandages but it was distinctly swollen. Or maybe that was just its new and improved shape. His jaw hit the floor as soon as he came into the apartment and it didn’t look like he’d be able to make much use of it for a while. At least they’d all be spared the wisecracks. Willow was hot on Xander’s tail. She was carrying what looked to be the ingredients for some kind of spell in a small bowl. It fell to the floor with a crash. The red-haired witch was the only one to speak.

"Buffy!" Buffy couldn’t help smirking. It just sounded way too much like the red-haired girl was scolding her. Willow never had liked Faith. The last member of the group, his large body filling the whole doorway, was Angel. He gave her a hurt look which she remembered well. But this time all his brooding did was harden her resolve. As she disentangled herself from Faith and prepared to fight, Buffy was determined that these people were not going to separate them. And that Angel was going to pay for what he had done to Faith.

"Sorry, we weren’t planning on having a housewarming for another few weeks. And I’m pretty sure that it’s going to be invitation only." Buffy walked right up to Giles and stood stock still. She folded her arms across her chest and stared at him defiantly. They were apparently all too shocked to move. Except for Angel, who growled and threw himself at the doorway without success. Buffy ignored the vampire, for now. Finally the Watcher shuffled uncomfortably on the spot and cleared his throat to speak.

"Uh, Buffy. Are you all right? We’ve all been terribly worried about you." Before she could reply the blonde slayer sensed a movement behind her. She turned her head slightly to see Faith standing unsteadily by the couch, clearly in pain. Buffy’s brow wrinkled in compassion. Suddenly, the expression in the injured slayer’s dark eyes shifted to become one of warning. Instinctively Buffy lifted her knee and kicked behind her with some force. Her bare foot sank into Xander’s belly and drove him back against the living room wall. The slayer spun around angrily.

"Don’t come here pretending to be my friends. Look. Look at what he’s done to her. And all of you helped him, I know it. How could you?" She pointed behind her at Faith, who tensed at the mention of her injured state. But Buffy didn’t care, she was going to give these people a piece of her mind. Before she made sure that they never bothered the two slayers again. "Do I look like I’m in trouble to you? Do I look like I need you to come swooping in here like the fucking Mystery Men and save me? I’ve been fit for ages. Faith’s been getting me into top shape. And I’ll demonstrate it on all comers if anyone’s up for it. Otherwise you can all just piss off and never come back."

Angel growled at her from the door. "I’ll fight you. Let me in." The slayer looked at him in disbelief. How stupid did this guy think she was?

"What, so you can finish the job? Think I don’t know what you’re after? You think if Faith’s out of the picture I’ll come crawling back to you. Reality check. You’ve hurt someone I love for the last time. I’m never going to let it happen again." Buffy glared at the vampire. She had every intention of fighting him. But there was no way she was going to let him in to get his fangs into Faith. Buffy was Faith’s only protection now and she meant to do the job properly. Angel hurled himself at the open doorway in frustration and the blonde slayer smirked at him.

Willow, however, was clearly not done with her lecturing. She moved forward into the room and started making outraged announcements about Buffy’sfeelings for Faith. "Love! Buffy, you have no idea what you’re talking about. Look at what she’s done to you. You can’t love Faith. She’s a murderer!"

!" Buffy saw red. Literally. The enraged slayer’s entire vision narrowed to a point right in the middle of the witch’s face. And that was where she planted her fist. Too quickly for Giles to stop her. Willow’s head snapped back and she stumbled a little, but she didn’t go down. Instead the red-haired girl kept moving slowly away from Buffy, tears forming in her eyes. She prodded tentatively at her split lip with a finger as blood ran down her chin.

The blonde slayer took a few steps back and assumed the fighting stance she’d been practising so often. She was a little disappointed by Willow’s passive aggressive reaction but shrugged it aside. Buffy would deal with her former friend later. For now she concentrated on sneering at Angel, trying to figure out how she could get at him without leaving Faith vulnerable. Meanwhile, Xander had not been his usual bone idle self. He’d somehow managed to pick his useless ass up off the floor and was now moving towards Faith with the sledge hammer raised above his head. Buffy was about to leap across and tackle the gutless bully when she noticed the look in the injured slayer’s eye. Faith was egging him on, encouraging him to attack her. The look was pure confidence. The dark-haired girl knew she could take Xander, even now when she was in so much pain that she could barely stand. Buffy stayed where she was and watched, keeping Giles and Willow under surveillance from the corner of her eye.

Xander roared some unintelligible expression of anger, only managing to broaden Faith’s smirk. Swinging wildly, he attempted to bring the sledgehammer down right on top of the tall slayer’s head. Unfortunately for the young man, he wasn’t playing in the same speed category as Faith. She easily ducked under the blow and moved to the side as Xander’s momentum carried him forward. The hammer struck the back of the couch, breaking the wood, but bounced back again. It threw Xander right off balance and he fell awkwardly, ending up face down on the couch. Faith was on him in an instant. She grabbed him by the hair while pinning him to the couch with her knee. His face was shoved roughly into the cushions, effectively muffling his enthusiastic insults.

"I hope you’ve got the money to pay for that big man. Otherwise I’m going to have to have you work it off as a punching bag." Buffy grinned and Faith looked up. Their eyes met and both of them nodded slightly. The blonde slayer turned back to face the door to her apartment and prepared herself to do some serious damage.

Faith had Xander under control. The next threat was going to be Giles. Whatever Willow had been cooking up in that little bowl was now a big slimy mess at the witch’s feet. She could be disposed of in a couple of seconds. But the Watcher was a different kettle of fish. The Englishman knew how she fought. He had trained her for hours. No matter what she said, Buffy wasn’t sure she was in peak fighting shape. But Giles was just standing there, looking at her almost sadly. Buffy knew she had to get the crossbow off him but couldn’t bring herself to attack him cold. For some reason just looking at him reminded her of how much he used to care about her. And how much she had respected him. Maybe he would understand. If she explained.

"Giles, you understand don’t you? This is just...right."

She took a hesitant step towards him, holding her hands out in a gesture of peace. Giles gave her that half smile he used so often when she’d done something wrong but he couldn’t bring himself to be angry at her. At that instant Angel yelled from the door.

"Now!"

The Watcher’s eyes became cold as they shifted from one slayer to the other. He raised the crossbow and aimed it at Faith’s heart, just as she was distracted by a particularly violent piece of struggling from Xander. Buffy didn’t hesitate one second longer. Moving forward quickly she reached out and grabbed Giles’ right wrist with her left hand. The slayer pushed his arm across his body just as he released the trigger of the crossbow. The bolt went flying across the apartment, embedding itself in the wall not far above Willow’s head. In one continuous movement Buffy drove the Watcher back against the wall and twisted his arm until he was forced to relinquish the weapon. Using her right arm to pin him against the wall by the throat the blonde slayer bent down and picked up her crossbow. She turned slightly and tossed it to Faith.

"Cheers, B. Got any ammo for this baby?"

Buffy sneered at her former Watcher as she used her left hand to fish the rest of her crossbow bolts from the back of his suit pants. "Didn’t anybody ever tell you to pick on someone your own size? Or at least with all their limbs intact. One hell of a father figure you’re turning out to be."

Giles spluttered a little before pulling together acoherent reply. "Buffy, this isn’t you. I don’t know what she’s done to you but we’re here to help. We won’t give up on you."

Buffy shook her head."You people really are comprehension challenged, aren’t you?" Holding the bolts in her left hand, Buffy pulled the Watcher towards her and drove her knee up into his stomach. As he slouched forward she brought up her right elbow and sent it plunging point first into his back. Giles fell to the floor gasping for breath. The slayer stood over him. "I’ve got all the help I need right here."

Smiling for reasons she couldn’t really define Buffy headed over to the couch with the bolts. "Your wish..." She handed them over to Faith, who took them eagerly. The dark-haired slayer had the crossbow all loaded up almost instantly, even with only one functional hand.

"I knew there was a reason I kept you around." She winked at Buffy and stood up, releasing Xander.

"Just the one reason?" Buffy moved a little closer to the taller girl, snaking an arm gently around her waist and looking up invitingly. Faith’s grin lit up her whole face as she lent in for a quick kiss. Buffy heard Xander spluttering behind them but for some reason he didn’t seem to attack them. The blonde slayer was a little confused by this until she broke off the kiss and saw why. The poor guy had tried to stand up and stop them. Unfortunately for him, Faith had the crossbow pointed right at his temple. Buffy laughed. "You sure are quick." Faith quirked an eyebrow and whispered into the smaller slayer’s ear.

"Not too quick. You get what you need?" Buffy nodded as her hand closed on the stake tucked into the back of Faith’s jeans. She pulled it out and dropped it down the sleeve of her sweatshirt. It wasn’t her first choice for a stake storage facility but it would have to do for now.

Reluctantly, Buffy relinquished her hold on the taller slayer and went to round up the recovering Giles. The Watcher had regained his wind, but was still lying on the ground moaning. Buffy wasn’t too worried. She knew from experience that the old man was tougher than he looked. She picked him up roughly by the shoulder and dumped him on the floor in front of the couch.

Xander soon joined him, tossed unceremoniously off the badly damaged piece of furniture by Faith. The dark-haired slayer down sat gingerly, reminding Buffy that they had to get her some medical attention ASAP. She made herself as comfortable as possible and held up the crossbow to ensure that the two men didn’t try anything. The blonde girl turned around to look for Willow. The redhead was backed right up against the wall, looking white. She stood out rather attractively against the awful brown wallpaper. It looked to Buffy like she had gone into some sort of shock. She walked over and looked at her former best friend at a close proximity. Willow flinched slightly, as though she were afraid of the blonde slayer.

"You want to join the rest of the rescue party over there? I know that Faith would just love to keep an eye on you. Maybe you could tell her about the magic you’ve been learning while we’ve been away." Buffy grabbed the red-haired girl by the shoulder and pushed her gently to where the little group was gathering on the floor. She was a little uncomfortable when Willow began to cry, but put it out of her mind. The blonde slayer had bigger things to worry about.

When they were all seated safely under the scrutiny of Faith and the crossbow, Buffy turned to the doorway. Angel had been watching her the whole time. She had felt it. He was standing in the doorway, one arm against each side of the frame, in full vamp mode. Buffy hesitated for a second, unsure if she was ready to take on what she knew would be a particularly tough fight. Angel growled a little, turning up his lip to expose the hideous fangs. The slayer knew that she had no choice. She had to make him pay for what he had done. Buffy walked straight at him, driving him back out of the door with a strong kick to the stomach. She headed out into the hallway and adopted a fighting stance. It wasn’t the best place for a showdown. Their apartment was at the end of this hallway so her back was literally to the wall. And there was precious little room to move. The alert slayer noticed that the door to the apartment across the hall was open, but there was no sign of her neighbour, Mrs O’Brian. She hoped that nothing had happened to the inquisitive but friendly old woman.

Angel was standing in front of her. He was shifting around uncertainly, only assuming a half-hearted fighting stance. Suddenly he shuddered slightly and his face changed back into a more human form. The way he had looked in Buffy’s dream. The slayer realised now what that had been about. Though why she had dreamed that Angel turned into a huge snake was still a mystery. As far as she could remember that wasn’t one of his tricks. The vampire’s eyes glanced towards the stairwell before he returned his earnest gaze to the slayer.

"Buffy, I don’t want to fight you. Come with us. We can help you. Whatever you think you remember, whatever she’s told you, it isn’t true." Buffy felt a wave of cold rage pass through her. She didn’t even respond to Angel’s pleading. Instead, she leapt at him, intending to let her actions speak for her. Buffy lashed out aggressively with a number of kicks to various parts of his body before moving in and striking wildly with her fists. The big vampire didn’t fight back. He dodged her blows as best he could but the slayer still managed to do some damage. Unfortunately, her fury wasn’t helping her technique. She got in way too close to the vampire and he managed to grab her around the chest, restraining her arms in the process. Angel spun the furious slayer around so that they were both facing the same direction and held her tightly.

"Let me go, you bastard. Fight me!" As she struggled Buffy realised just how unprepared she was to take on Angel. The last time she’d fought a vamp was weeks ago. Probably not the smartest idea to take on the one who knew her best at this stage of her recovery. Buffy tried to headbutt Angel into letting her go but she was too short and only ended up striking the vampire ineffectually in the chest. While the slayer was struggling her enhanced hearing picked up someone walking up the stairs. She relaxed a little, hoping that help of some kind was on its way. Unfortunately, whoever it was, Angel seemed to be expecting them.

"Hurry up."

"Okay, okay, keep your pants on. Do you know how hard it is to get someone to give you good directions around here? Whoever drew that map you guys left has some serious problems dealing with the whole left and right distinction." Cordelia appeared at the top of the stairs. As always she looked impossibly overdressed. Unless she had been working Sunset Boulevard undercover. Cordelia was her usual, unforgettable self. "Hey, Buffy. Still didn’t manage to get your brain back? Or do you two just like things rough? That would make sense because --"

Angel interrupted her abruptly."Where is she?"

"Finding somewhere to leave the car. It’s just ridiculous down there. And why anyone would come to LA just to live in this neighbourhood is beyond me. What, did some demon die and leave you this dump or something?"

Buffy didn’t bother responding, resuming her previous struggle against the vampire’s strong arms. It was evident that she wasn’t as fit as she’d thought. Even stomping on Angel’s feet was having no effect. She made a mental note to wear shoes at all times in the future. The slayer was going to have to wait till something distracted him. And it didn’t look like Cordelia’s mindless rambling was going to do the trick.

"Where are the others? Where’s Wesley? He promised me a surprise." Cordelia seemed to think they were all on some kind of field trip or something. It was painfully obvious that the cheerleader hadn’t gotten over her rather sickening crush on the younger Watcher while Buffy had been away.

"It’s probably handcuffs." Both girls opened their eyes wide at this remark. Angel had done the impossible, rendering both Buffy and Cordelia speechless. The shocked slayer felt the vampire’s chest shake slightly in what was probably his version of a laugh. "He’s pretending to be a policeman to distract Buffy’s rather overly attentive neighbour. Probably can’t wait to show you his fake uniform."

." Sothat was what had happened to Mrs O’Brian. Poor old thing, dragged out of bed at this time of night by that hideously annoying Englishman. Still, at least her neighbour wasn’t having as bad a night as Buffy. Trying a new approach the Slayer closed her eyes and let her entire body go limp, faking a faint.

"Angel, you’ve squeezed her to death you great lug." Cordelia always did choose her moments to be perceptive. Angel loosened his grip and began to turn Buffy around. As he did so the slayer let her arms fall, allowing the stake to drop out of her sleeve and into her hand. It felt good. She revelled in the feeling of power which flowed through her just from holding the wood. It was a sensation she hadn’t even realised that she’d missed until now. Angel was going down. Not a bad way to resume her slaying career. The vampire lay the tiny slayer down on the ground and leant over her.

"Buffy. Wake up." He shook her slightly. The blonde slayer opened her eyes and began to lift the stake. Just as she was about to turn Angel into a meal for a dust buster someone kicked her hand, sending the stake flying across the hall. Unbelievable. There were more of them. The slayer turned her head to the side.

Standing right next to her, at the top of the stairs, was Maggie. Buffy was too shocked to struggle as Angel took a firm grasp on her wrists and dragged her to her feet. He let her go and she turned to face the latest intruder. What was Maggie doing here? Why was she helping these guys?

"Timing always was a skill of mine." The doctor grinned at Buffy like nothing had happened. She had betrayed the slayer and now she was expecting appreciation of her jokes. Buffy just looked at Maggie, confused. "How you holding up? Looks like you’ve recovered nicely. Physically at least." The doctor stepped towards Buffy and attempted to feel her head. The blonde slayer shook it fiercely, not letting Maggie touch her.

"I’m fine. What are you doing with them? I thought we were friends." Buffy looked at Maggie imploringly. Hadn’t she told Maggie all about Faith? How the dark-haired girl was going to rescue her? Now the doctor was apparently well and truly in the enemy camp.

"I am your friend, Buffy. And so are all these guys. They love you. You should have seen what they went through to find you." Buffy didn’t really want to hear this. Why would Maggie say things like that when she knew the truth?

"It’s not true. Faith loves me, that’s all I care about." Maggie lifted her eyebrows slightly but didn’t reply to Buffy. Instead she looked over Buffy’s shoulder to the big vampire behind her.

"Where is our friend the psychopathic murderer anyway?"

"In there. You got the stuff?" Maggie nodded, patting a small black bag at her side.

"Let’s do it then."

Buffy’s head started to hurt for the first time in a long time. What was going on here? Maggie had looked after her. Had saved her life. Now she was with them. Why? The slayer’s mind was a whirl of confusion. There was no way she could take all of this in right now. But she had to. It was time to take sides and Buffy was making decisions with only a very vague idea of what the game was. There wasn’t much she could do. Except follow her heart.

"You’re not going to have a nervous breakdown or something are you? Because, if you ask me, these past few weeks Willow’s been a little nutso too. Maybe you two can go off to the funny farm together." Buffy looked at Cordelia. She suddenly realised that only the two of them were standing at the top of the stairs. Maggie and Angel were standing at the doorway of the apartment, apparently about to do something to Faith. She shook herself back into action and turned to see what Angel was up to.

"Hey, Faith. We’ve got her now and there’s nothing you can do. Buffy knows everything. She never wants to see you again. Let them go and I promise not to tear you limb from limb." What was he doing? Trying to get Faith to attack him. Buffy ran towards the door, calling to her friend.

"No, Faith don’t listen to him. It’s not true." But it was too late. Faith had yelled something from inside and fired the crossbow at Angel. He leapt out of the way, pulling Buffy to the ground with him. Now the dark-haired slayer was virtually defenceless and Giles and Xander were ready to take advantage.

From face down on the ground, where she was pinned by Angel’s considerable weight lying on top of her, Buffy saw them attack her badly injured friend. They grabbed Faith before she could reload, pinning her back to the couch. Giles restrained the slayer’s legs, the only part of her body still intact after her earlier encounter with Angel. Xander, meanwhile, held Faith’s good arm and began punching her in the face.

"No.... Stop it, you bastard." Buffy’s anguished cries seemed to return the young man to his senses and he settled for just holding her right arm out at anawkward angle and twisting it.

"You fuckers, let me go." The dark-haired slayer was struggling as much as she could, but the pain must have been unbearable.

"Faith!" Buffy was almost frantic, but she couldn’t get Angel off her. The vampire spoke to Maggie.

"Okay, do it."

Maggie jumped over them and approached the couch somewhat tentatively.

"Stay the fuck away from me. I’m going to kill you all, I swear." Maggie turned to Buffy and gave her a knowing look. The blonde slayer had no idea what the fuck that was supposed to mean. She was feeling the same way herself. But something was tickling the back of her mind. Why did everyone keep saying that Faith was a murderer? Buffy was torn between anger and confusion. She wished Angel would just get the fuck off her. For a second the weight on her back lifted and she thought he was going to release her. But it was a false hope. The big vampire had lifted himself up so that he could pin the slayer to the floor with his knees, which were now digging painfully into her lower back, while still holding her wrists together behind her back.

"Please leave her alone." Maggie shook her head slightly, ignoring Buffy’s plea. She pulled a huge syringe out of her bag. "No!" Buffy was crying now. Memories of her own experiences in the Sunnydale ER sent chills through her. The nurse with the syringe trying to kill her. Maggie saving her. Now it was happening again. But this time the brunette doctor was the killer and no one was going save Faith. "Don’t kill her, please." She couldn’t believe that this was happening. Maggie stepped forward and plunged the needle into Faith’s damaged left arm. The dark-haired slayer screamed as she used her shattered arm to punch Maggie in the side of the head. The doctor went down but the damage was done. Faith was out cold instantly.

Maggie looked across the floor at Buffy with a shockedexpression. "I didn’t kill her. It was just something to knock her out until we can get you out of here." Buffy’s heart started beating again. Faith wasn’t dead. She could still save her. If she could just get this fucking vampire off her. Giles and Xander waited a few moments before letting go of the dark-haired slayer, apparently making sure that she wasn’t playing possum. Then they stood up and dusted themselves off, trying to retain some dignity. Which isn’t easy when you’ve just participated in a vicious attack on a badly injured and unarmed girl. Maggie meanwhile was on her feet checking Faith’s pulse, and rubbing her injured jaw gingerly.

"That was nasty. I thought she was supposed to be disabled."

Willow spoke up for the first time in along time.

"My spell didn’t work out." The red haired girl was still snivelling, but she was now busying herself by picking up the pieces of her shattered earthenware. Xander and Giles had disappeared into Buffy’s bedroom. They quickly re-emerged carrying all her things. No one touched anything in Faith’s meager pile of belongings.

The brunette doctor had moved on to inspecting Buffy’s attempt at splinting Faith’s broken arm. "Whew. This is nasty. What happened to her?" Angel didn’t own up but reddened slightly and allowed Buffy to get to her feet. This she did eagerly, running immediately to see if anything could be done to help Faith. The dark-haired slayer had slumped down onto her right side and appeared to be sleeping peacefully.

"Your golden body hasn’t been leaving things out of his story has he? Not quite the average good guy, is our man Angel." The blonde slayer didn’t bother looking at either of them, focusing entirely on the girl she loved so much. And had let down so badly. Maggie turned and spoke to Angel in a low voice. "You’ve done an awful lot of damage. This could be serious if we don’t get her to a hospital right away."

Kneeling down to stroke Faith’s hair, Buffy began to cry again. The dark-haired girl looked so peaceful, lying there. Buffy remembered the promises they had made to each other. Faith had promised her that she would never leave her and the older girl had sworn that nothing would tear them apart. Now neither of them could do anything to stop it.

Buffy was bruised and exhausted. Her stake was out in the hall and the crossbow had disappeared. She would never be able to get past Angel, especially not while carrying the unconscious taller slayer. Buffy realised that there was no way out for the two of them. She turned to look at the others. Willow and Xander had disappeared, along with all Buffy’s clothes. But the rest of them were still standing there, looking uncomfortable. The blonde slayer fixed them with a cold stare.

"What are you going to do to her? Are you going to help her or just leave her here to die?" It was Giles who answered. He must have been the one who cut the deal.

"Members of the Council will be here soon. I’m sure they’ll give her the necessary medical treatment. Following her recovering Faith will be taken back to England for trial. I don’t expect they’ll harm her. We managed to talk them into giving us some time to help you readjust without interference, so there’s no need to tell them of this little... indiscretion. But you must come with us now." The Watcher didn’t meet her eyes, using his customary technique of cleaning his glasses to avoid doing so. He spoke in an unfamiliar tone. Almost like he was giving her an order. Buffy wondered how he could remain so impassive at a time like this. How could he not see the pain all over her face? They just expected her to go along with them. To leave Faith here.

"You can’t be serious... How can I leave her here like this?"

But what other choice did she have? If she stayed here the Council would take them both. It would be a lot easier for Buffy to free Faith from outside a Watcher’s Council Facility for Unruly Slayers than from inside.

"If you behave rashly we shall have to adopt rather desperate measures." Giles nodded to Maggie who rather reluctantly opened her bag and pulled out another syringe.

"I really don’t want to have to do this, Buffy..."

"You will soon see that this is in your own best interests." The Watcher and the doctor lied simultaneously. And Buffy knew that she had no options left. They were going to take her one way or another. Better for the blonde slayer to walk out of here than be dragged out by her hair. She turned back to look at the sleeping face of the girl she loved. Gently she lent across and kissed Faith’s still lips. Buffy pushed back the wild dark curls and whispered into an unconscious ear.

"I promised you, remember. And I always keep my promises. No matter what I have to do, we will be together again. You give those Watchers hell, okay? I’ll see you soon. Love you." The blonde slayer’s voice trembled as she spoke.

Buffy reached up and unfastened her necklace. It was a thin silver chain with a small cross on it. Faith had given it to her just a couple of days ago. Now Buffy hoped that it would show the younger slayer that she still felt the same. She kissed Faith one last time. Rising unsteadily, Buffy picked up the bloodied remains of her friend’s jacket. Clutching it in both hands she walked slowly over to the group at the door, not bothering to wipe off the tears that were streaming down her face. None of them met her eyes. She hoped they were proud of themselves.

The End