Giles perches on the edge of the sofa, sipping his tea calmly. He is the picture of nonchalance. On the inside, he fights the urge to throttle the woman in front of him.

"I don't know," Joyce says doubtfully, flipping through the glossy brochure for at least the twelfth time. "She's never been away from home this long."

"I understand," Giles says, "but this will be an invaluable experience for her. She'll have an opportunity to train with some of the best teachers."  Giles's voice is kind but firm. He's been working with Buffy for a year now, a task he initially dreaded upon meeting her. She'd seemed unfocused and shallow, her only thoughts of boys and makeup. He's learned that under the surface, Buffy is actually a very thoughtful girl. She's resourceful and compassionate. She will make a wonderful slayer, should she be called, though he hopes she never will be. The unfortunate fact is that slayers don't tend to live long, and this isn't a fate he wants for her. Still, he must do his utmost to ensure she's properly prepared in case she should be called, and that means convincing her parents to send her to this retreat. "We must let her prepare as best she can, in case--"

"You said the chances were low!" Joyce butts in with alarm.

"They are, statistically speaking," Giles says, "but that is no reason to be lax on her training."

"I think it's a good idea," Hank offers, turning to Joyce. "Besides, Giles will be there."

Giles keeps his eyes trained on Joyce. Buffy's father has never presented much of a challenge in terms of embracing her potential calling, but Joyce is another story. She is fiercely protective of her daughter, and when it comes to Buffy, she's the one he always has to convince.

"Why does it not reassure me that the man who takes my daughter out to fight vampires in the middle of the night is going to be providing the supervision?" Joyce asks dryly. She looks at Buffy, who is sitting cross-legged on the couch, seemingly uninterested in the discussion. "Do you want to go to this?" She turns the brochure in her direction.

Buffy glances at it. In bold letters the pamphlet reads, “The Centennial Fairweather Retreat.” A picture of two girls adorns the rest of the front fold, grinning and holding crossbows. "Yes," Buffy says with some enthusiasm, leaving out the part where Giles promised her a very long stop at South Coast Plaza with his credit card on their way back. She cuts her eyes in her mother's direction angrily. "It’s not like I have anything else to do, since you moved me away from all of my friends to a town that doesn't even have a Neiman Marcus."

Joyce rolls her eyes and drops the brochure in her daughter's lap. "Fine, it's settled. She can go, but I expect you to call me and check in," she warns Giles.

He nods his assent. "Of course."

XXXXX

"Why did I agree to come here?" Buffy whimpers, staring at the large stage from the left wing.

Kendra looks at her in surprise. "You are a potential. Why would you not come?"

"Well, nobody told me there would be public speaking involved!"

"It's no big deal," Kendra says reassuringly. "You just have to state your name and where you're from. It's tradition for all the new girls." She squints at the slight girl assigned to be her roommate. It's also a tradition for some of the more seasoned potentials to be paired with the newbies until they feel comfortable, and she's been assigned to be Buffy's buddy for the next few days.

Buffy sighs. Talking to Kendra is like talking to a younger, girl version of Giles. It's all sacred duty this, responsibilities that. She's more like a robot than a person.

"Girls!" Comes a cheerful, accented voice. "Line up, please!"

Buffy tries one last imploring look at Kendra. Maybe she can fake ill? Kendra smiles, and pushes her into the line, saying, "I'll meet you after the ceremony!"

As the line progresses toward the stage, Buffy's palms begin to sweat. She's comfortable in social situations; she was part of the Prom Court last year after all, but this is totally different. She knows exactly two people in the whole hall, and the walk to the center of the stage is really far. What if she trips?

The girl in front of her moves ahead, smiling cheerfully as she walks to meet the lead watcher, Quentin Something or Other, at the center of the stage.

"You're up next," the woman with the clipboard squints down at the nametag plastered to Buffy's shirt, "Buffy."

On the stage, the girl in front of her is saying, "Hi, I'm Amanda," like she has zero problems with remembering her own name. Buffy's beginning to feel nauseous now, and she swallows nervously. A tingling has begun in the base of her neck.

"Go on, dear," Clipboard encourages, but her voice sounds far away. Buffy's feet feel rooted to the ground. On the stage, the council man glances questioningly in their direction.

Buffy starts to shake her head, unwilling to go, but hands seize her arms from behind and propel her forward. "Smile!" Comes the whispered command in her ear.

Buffy manages to do so, thankful that her feet begin to move on their own. The girl releases her arms and strides ahead of her, reaching the center of the stage. "Hi," she says cheerfully into the microphone held limply in Quentin's hand, "I'm Faith Lehane, Boston born and raised." She grins winningly at the audience, as Buffy arrives reluctantly at her side. She slips an arm around Buffy's shoulders, hugging her to her side familiarly. "This is Buffy. She's not feeling too well, but she didn't wanna miss the ceremony, right, B?"

"Uh," Buffy says, caught off guard, "right. Hi." She waves toward the audience members.

Quentin Travers, as the nametag reads, recovers his surprise, and says, "Yes, well, thank you, girls. Let's give them a round of applause."

Faith nudges Buffy forward, and the two of them duck past Travers and quickly escape the stage. Safely tucked behind the curtain, Buffy lets out a huge breath.

Faith cocks an eyebrow, leaning one slim hip against the wall. "You gonna barf?"

Buffy shakes her head, still recovering from the traumatic incident. "Oh my God," she says, "that was so embarrassing."

"Nah," Faith dismisses, "you did fine."

"You did it," Buffy corrects. "I was working on Plan A: Let the floor swallow me whole." She stands up straighter, looking at her savior with clearer eyes. "Thanks."

Faith tucks some unruly brown hair behind her ears, sparkling eyes looking back with equal interest. "Couldn't let you go down like that," she says smoothly.

Before Buffy can reply, Kendra comes striding up the stairs to the backstage area. "Buffy?" She asks, concerned. "Are you all right?"

Buffy tries to reassure her, but Kendra insists on taking her to be checked out. She manages to wave her goodbyes to Faith as she's pulled away.

XXXXX

The demonstration leader blows a whistle, and Faith obediently puts down her fencing sword. "That'll be all for today," the leader says. "Very good work, everyone. Dinner's in an hour, so I'll let you all go get ready." Faith puts her sword away, hastening across the open-air pavilion toward the expanse of wide open grounds between her and the large house serving as the headquarters for this year's retreat. It's a beautiful summer night, the northern California weather affording them enough coolness to be comfortable outside. There are girls walking all around the grounds, some still going through their training exercises, and some strolling. Faith spots a group using maces, and shakes her head. Who's ever going to use a mace?

She spots her roommate and quickly ducks behind a tree for cover. Ingrid is a tall, broad shouldered girl completely unburdened by smile lines, and the two of them shared an immediate mutual dislike. Faith's in no mood to hear a lecture on how lucky she is to be here again. Not that she doesn't feel lucky—she definitely appreciates the twist of fate that landed her here. Being a potential is wicked cool, and not just the knives part of it. She's living with Diana now, her kind of stuffy but mostly decent watcher, which is a step up from the last crummy apartment her mom was able to get.

She waits until Ingrid's frowning face disappears inside the training area she just left, then Faith stands up and leaves the safety of the tree. Unfortunately she almost bowls over Diana, who frowns at her. "There you are, Faith. I've been looking for you."

"Here I am," Faith says, resigned to falling into step beside Diana.

Diana begins to go through Faith's scheduled lessons as she leads them toward the house. Blade Safety and Defense, Demons of North America, and Battlefield Triage will be tomorrow.

Faith is about to tell Diana how unenthused she is about the last two, when she spots a familiar face entering the stairwell ahead of them. She tries to break away toward the stairs, but Diana seizes her arm. "Faith? Have you been listening to me?" She asks with exasperation, trying to gain her charge's wandering attention.

"I was," Faith assures her, "totally. I just really wanna get upstairs." She glances pleadingly toward the stairs, where Buffy is rounding the landing and will soon be out of sight.

Diana looks at her speculatively.

"I don't wanna wait for the shower," Faith adds. "I might be late for dinner."

Diana is a big fan of punctuality, failing frequently to take Faith's point that demonic attacks are not usually scheduled. She relents and lets Faith go. "I'll see you down here at 7pm sharp."

Faith nods, all but darting into the stairwell and up the first flight. On the second floor, she charges through the doors and glances down the hall, not seeing any sign of Buffy. She re-enters the stairs, quickly heading for the third floor, where her own room is. This time she spots Buffy, walking beside the girl who took her to medical suite this morning. Faith watches as the other girl pulls out a key, letting the two of them into the last room on the right. Once they're inside, Faith makes her way down the hall. There's a balcony off the end, spanning the length of the building, and currently crowded with people. Stepping outside, she looks to the right, and spots two windows with the blinds drawn closed. Perfect, she thinks with a smile.

XXXXX

Buffy wakes with a start, sitting up in the unfamiliar bed. Across the room, Kendra's hair pokes free from a bundle of blankets, seemingly undisturbed by whatever’s woken Buffy. Pushing back the covers, Buffy swings her legs over the side of the bed and steps down onto the thickly carpeted floor. She creeps to the door to their room, pressing her ear against the cool wood. Outside, the hallway is quiet, not even the shuffling of feet on carpet or squeaking of floorboards betrays the presence of a person. Still, she has this little niggling feeling blooming in her mind that she can't quite shake.

Leaving the door, she heads for her bed, pausing at the window alongside her headboard. The drapes are drawn shut, and she has to peel one back a little in order to look out onto the balcony running the length of the house. The moon overhead illuminates the balcony quite well, and she can see someone standing against the railing. The figure turns as if to come toward the window, and Buffy sees she knows her. It's Faith, the potential from the ceremony. Faith turns around, going back to the railing as if she's steeling her nerves.

Curious now, Buffy drops the drape into place and snags a pair of jeans from her open suitcase. Shucking off her pajama pants, she put the jeans on and slips her feet into flip-flops. Taking care to be as quiet as possible, she takes her key from her bedside table and slips out the door.

When Buffy opens the glass doors to the balcony, Faith is still dithering at the railing. She turns right away, although Buffy is sure the door opened silently.

"Hi," Faith says, surprised.

"Hey," Buffy says, stepping out and hugging her arms around herself. It's chilly out here. "What are you doing out here?"

"Looking for you," Faith says, pushing off the railing and coming to join her mid veranda. "Wasn't sure if you were up."

"How'd you know where my room was?" Buffy asks, confused.

Faith shrugs. "I saw you go in earlier." Mentally berating herself for not thinking of a way of approaching Buffy that didn't make her seem like a total stalker, she says, "Wanted to see if you were feeling better from this morning."

Buffy seems to accept this at face value. "I haven't had any more panic attacks yet."

Faith chuckles. "There's always tomorrow."

"Now you're trying to jinx me."

"Better stick with me just in case, so I can get you out of trouble again," Faith says, grinning smoothly.

"Why do I think you're more likely to get me in trouble?" Buffy asks. "I'm pretty sure they expected us to actually stay in our rooms when they told us to head to bed."

Faith shrugs, tossing her long hair over her shoulder casually. "But now you get to hang with me, and isn't that better than following the rules?"

"I'm not sure yet," Buffy counters, but she's smiling. She's been playing by Giles's rules since she was identified, sacrificing fun and friends to hunt creatures of the night. Maybe she's due for a little break. Looking at Faith's short sleeves, she asks, "Aren't you cold?"

"I'm all right," Faith shrugs. "You're cold? How can you be under all that hair?" She takes a pinch of Buffy's long hair and tugs gently. "You planning to go as Cousin It on Halloween?"

Buffy moves her head, taking her hair out of Faith's grasp. "Only if you'll go as Morticia," she snarks back. "You wear all that makeup to sleep?"

Faith raises an eyebrow as if to say touché. "All right, blondie, don't get upset. Your hair is beautiful. Mere mortals cower before its beauty."

Buffy glares, opening her mouth to reply, but Faith quickly adds, "I mean it, you have great hair." As Buffy's glare softens, Faith says, "Great everything actually." She bites back an embarrassed smile, dropping her gaze to somewhere around Buffy's feet.

Buffy's cheeks flush in a surprised blush. She reminds herself it's no big deal that Faith said she's pretty. Girls tell each other they're pretty all the time, especially the cheerleaders she used to hang out with. But then Faith looks back up, studying Buffy through dark eyelashes, and her stomach is suddenly acing the landing on a double axel.

"Here," Faith says before Buffy can think of a reply. She reaches past Buffy for a bag she's propped on one of the balcony's couches. Unzipping it, she pulls out a folded blanket. "I came prepared, umm, if you wanna stay out here for a while."

"Sure," Buffy says, taking the blanket. She sits down on the couch, curling her legs under her. She holds out the end of the blanket. "It's big enough to share."

Faith doesn't need to be asked twice. She sits next to Buffy, bringing her knees up to her chest so she can wrap the blanket up to her neck. Buffy's close enough that their legs brush. Neither of them moves away. "So what's on your schedule for tomorrow?" Faith asks.

XXXXX

Faith stares blankly at the ceiling above her bed, trying to will herself to fall asleep. She should be tired after staying out so late with Buffy the night before and classes today. Battlefield Triage proved to be surprisingly interactive, but she was able to catch a few winks during Demons of North America. She earned herself an earful from the instructor for that, but whatever. Faith doesn’t understand the point in trying to memorize all these different demons anyway. This is what watchers are for.

Sighing, she turns on her side. She's never been a very good sleeper. She's never been able to trust the world around her enough for that. Now she's got a room in Diana's apartment, and nobody ever comes home drunk and wakes her up. There aren't any screaming matches or fistfights in the next room to disturb her sleep. Still, she doesn't sleep deep. Some part of her is always waiting for the time she might have to jump up and run. She's bothered too, when the silence is too complete. Her room at Diana's faces the street, and she can hear cars sometimes driving by, or insects buzzing, or even leave her TV on really low if she wants.

Tonight, with the windows closed and Ingrid soundly asleep, she can't make herself relax. The sound of her own breathing is enough to set her teeth on edge. She tosses and rolls, kicking the blankets off and pulling them on. She'd go on like that all night, except that she starts to feel a gentle hum at the nape of her neck. She's felt this before since she arrived at the retreat, and both times have been when Buffy was near. She doesn't know what that means but Faith is up and grabbing her hoodie from the foot of the bed before she can give it much thought.

The door opens silently, and Faith peers out. Buffy's coming up the empty hall, practically swimming in an oversize sweatshirt. Faith steps out of her room, tucking her key in the pocket of her jacket.

Buffy looks up in surprise. "Hey," she says quietly as they meet in the middle of the hall. "What are you doing out here?"

"Couldn't sleep," Faith says, not mentioning the strange feeling she's been getting.

"Me neither," Buffy says.

Faith tilts her head toward the stairs. "We could hang out?" Off Buffy's nod, she leads the way into the cool stairwell and starts up.

"What's up here?" Buffy asks curiously, when they've climbed two flights, and Faith's ducked inside an unlabeled door that leads to a narrower set of stairs.

Faith looks over her shoulder with a grin. "Found this place when I was exploring earlier—”

"You mean snooping?" Buffy cuts in with a smirk.

"You know me so well," Faith answers with sincerity. She pauses at the mouth of the landing, stepping to the side so Buffy can join her. "Check it out." Faith flicks the light switch by the door, and two small lamps flare to life.

Buffy steps onto the landing close beside her, smiling as she looks around the room. "We're in that round room at the top of the house," she says. "Cool." Windows face out from all sides of the room. Below them, bookshelves line the walls, full of old tomes. The furniture in the room is old, the patterns on the soft fabric faded with time.

"I figured nobody would bother us up here," Faith says with a shrug. "Doesn't look like it gets a lot of use."

Buffy sits down carefully on the sofa, as if it might break beneath her. Faith makes no such effort, sitting heavily on the opposite side and kicking off her shoes. She puts her feet up, and Buffy frowns. "Bull, meet china shop."

Faith shrugs carelessly. "You need to find the fun, B. Lighten up." She pokes Buffy's thigh with her toes.

She's wearing baggy boxer shorts, and Buffy averts her eyes from the stretch of bare leg displayed on the couch.

"I'm light," she says defensively. Actually, she's feeling pretty tense. She'd wanted to see Faith, but she also feels nervous around her. She isn't sure why. Faith has been nothing but cool since they met. It's something about her eyes. Faith's got a real deep way of looking at a person. Like right now, Faith's leaning forward over her outstretched legs, somehow in Buffy's personal space from two feet away. Her gaze is pretty persistently set on Buffy's face, and Buffy's not sure when anyone's ever looked at her this intently. It's like whatever comes out of her mouth is the most important thing in the world, and Faith can't bear to miss a word. Buffy looks away, letting her eyes bounce around the room. “I didn’t see you at dinner,” she says, for something to talk about.

“Oh yeah,” Faith says enthusiastically. “Diana knows one of the Judo instructors, and he gave me some one on one time.”

Buffy raises her eyebrows, flicking Faith’s foot teasingly. “You need extra lessons?”

“I don’t need extra time,” Faith corrects, kicking at Buffy’s hand. “You can never learn enough ass kicking moves.”

Buffy nods, her brows drawing together. She probably could use some extra time herself. Watching the other girls spar, it’s obvious the difference it makes being identified young. Kendra has lived with her watcher all her life and she’s really good. Most of the potentials are. And then there’s Buffy, looking like the team alternate. Giles says she’s a fast learner, but looking at the other girls, she’s not so sure.

Faith leans forward over her legs so she’s closer to Buffy, looking at her curiously. “What are you thinking about?”

Buffy smiles ruefully. “Just that I could probably use some more practice. Everybody here is so good.”

“You’re as good as any of them,” Faith says with remarkable conviction for someone who’s never seen Buffy in action.

“Thanks,” Buffy says, “but I’m not.” She tries to play it off with a joke. “God help the world if I’m called.”

Faith hops to her feet easily. “Show me what you got,” she says, holding out her hand to Buffy.

“Oh, I don’t know…”

“B,” Faith says seriously, “get up here and kick my ass. Come on. Loser has to sit next to Ingrid at breakfast.”

“She’s your roommate,” Buffy complains, having been unfortunate enough to be in a course with Ingrid earlier in the day. She takes Faith’s palm, prepared to be hauled up, only to find herself quickly jerked off the couch with Faith pinning her to the floor.

“Hey!” Buffy protests into the carpet.

Faith releases her and stands up. “Rule #1: Never trust your opponent.”

Buffy rolls over, glaring up at her. “You’re a jerk.”

“So I’ve heard,” Faith says, unconcerned.

Buffy extends her hand to be helped up. When Faith grasps it, Buffy rolls backward, bringing her feet up to meet Faith’s stomach and propel her over Buffy’s body.

“What was that about Rule #1?” Buffy asks, getting to her feet.

Faith doesn’t waste time getting back up. She dives for Buffy’s knees, knocking her over so she falls onto the couch.

Outraged, Buffy slides down to the floor as Faith leaps on the couch. She rolls to the side to avoid Faith’s return pounce.

Both on their feet again, the two girls circle one another. Every move Faith makes, Buffy’s quick enough to dodge.

“Playing defense will only get you so far,” Faith points out, still looking for weak spots in Buffy’s maneuvers. “You gotta come at me some time.”

“I’m biding my time,” Buffy informs her, studying Faith’s movements.

“Is that what this is?” Faith asks. “Looks like you’re waiting for me to die of old age.” Her open palm darts out, but before she can make contact with Buffy’s side, she finds her wrist twisted. Buffy’s other hand connects with Faith’s prone elbow, and she slides to her knees, firmly caught in a wrist lock.

Buffy’s closed fist gently taps Faith’s back in imitation of a stake. “How’s that old age working out for you?” She asks smugly.

When she releases Faith’s wrist, Faith seizes her sweatshirt quickly, yanking Buffy down. She stumbles into Faith, landing on top of her. They both quickly tap their fists to the other’s chest.

Looking down, Buffy asks, “Who won that one?”

“Not sure,” Faith admits, looking up at Buffy through thick lashes. Her chest heaves with each breath.

Flushing, Buffy stands up, holding out her hand to Faith, who takes it and jumps to her feet.

Buffy smoothes back her hair and straightens her shirt. “You hungry?” She asks.

Faith grins, nodding. “We breaking into the kitchen?”

“I knew you’d be a bad influence on me,” Buffy says, but she leads the way toward the stairs.

XXXXX

Buffy trudges out of Vampire Clans Throughout the Ages, juggling several books in her arms and intent on squeezing in a nap before dinner. Why anyone would need to know about the bloodlines of a bunch of super old vampires is beyond her. Next year, she is totally going to talk Giles into registering for the retreat before trying to convince her mom, so she doesn't get stuck with so many pointless sessions.

As she manages to hold the door to her room open with one foot and squeeze herself and all her books in without toppling over, Kendra appears from the restroom, fresh from the shower.

"Hi," she greets brightly, while sweeping her long hair up into a ponytail. "How were your courses?"

Buffy dumps her pile of books on the desk, grimacing as a few of them teeter off the edge and land on the floor with a dull thunk. "Well, I just came back from 'Vampires of Yesteryear' so there's three hours of my life I'll never get back."

Kendra looks interested, plucking free the class agenda Buffy sandwiched between some books. "I wanted to attend this one!"

Buffy snorts in laughter, then sees that Kendra's serious and manages to control herself. "Um," she says politely, "what did you go to instead?"

Kendra picks up a sheet of paper from her bedside and hands it to Buffy for perusal. "'Living Up to Your Potential: An Introduction to Council Careers,'" Buffy reads aloud, her nose crinkling. "You want to be a Watcher?"

"If I'm not Chosen, of course," Kendra replies. "I would like to help the cause however I am able."

Buffy's getting to the point where she won't be surprised if Kendra emerges one of these days decked out in head to toe tweed. "Not me," she says vehemently. "As soon as I know for sure I'm not going to be called, I'm going to get a nice 9 to 5. Take long lunches on Friday to get my nails done. That sort of thing." She looks down at her own chipped nails in sadness.

"I don't believe you," Kendra says with a sly smile. "You were born to fight vampires. I saw you sparring today," she adds. "You're good. A little unconventional, but effective."

"So I'll be a stunt woman in the movies," Buffy says airily. "Vamps and other oogy creatures? So not what my aptitude test led me to believe."

"What did it predict for you?" Kendra asks, curious.

"Retail associate or fashion designer," Buffy says with a wry grin. "I guess it picked up on my love of shoes."

Kendra smiles. "Well, whatever it will be, I'm sure you will excel at it."

"Thank you."

Kendra walks to the door, ready to head for her class. She pauses half in and half out, and says, "I'll bet you $20 that you'll still be hunting 'oogy' things, as you call them, in 5 years."

"All right," Buffy agrees with a smirk. "I like easy money. You're on."

After the door closes behind Kendra, Buffy sits down on her bed, toeing off her shoes. It's time to get that nap.

When she wakes up, the room is cast in shadows, and someone is knocking on the door.

"Crap!" Buffy exclaims, sitting up. The bedside clock tells her she's slept 40 minutes into dinner. She must have turned the alarm off without fully waking. The knock at the door sounds again, and Buffy quickly stands, smoothing her hair down on the way to answer it.

Faith stands on the other side, and her face lights up in a smile when she sees Buffy. "Hey, girlfriend," she says. "You missed dinner. I was worried you might have skipped town."

"As if I could," Buffy sighs. "I slept through dinner because someone kept me up half the night."

"Kendra snores, huh?"

Buffy merely glares at Faith's attempt at a joke.

"Aww, sleeping beauty not in the mood to play?" Faith teases. "How about this then?" She pulled a dining cart from out of sight, displaying several covered dishes with a flourish. "I brought dinner to you."

Ignoring the fact that she can feel her face reddening at Faith's sleeping beauty joke, Buffy admits, "Well, I guess I'm a little hungry." She stands aside so Faith can push the cart in. "How'd you get this?"

"The years of hardened crime have polished my food stealing techniques," Faith answers deadpan.

"Do you ever take anything seriously?" Buffy asks, standing at Faith's elbow as she uncovers their dinner platters.

Faith straightens up, looking at Buffy seriously. Her gaze is quite sincere as she studies her. "Buffy," she says with gravity, "no, I don't."

Buffy smacks Faith's arm lightly. "You're impossible."

"Ouch," Faith says, grabbing her arm.

"That didn't hurt you."

"Yes, it did," Faith insists. "I'm horribly wounded. You gotta learn to control your strength, B."

"I'll show you strength," Buffy threatens, smacking Faith's other arm.

Faith drops her hand from her 'wounded' arm. "Oh, now you think you can take me?"

"Well, you're crying about a little slap, so yeah, I think so."

Faith's hand snakes out, poking Buffy's stomach none too gently.

"Hey!"

"Well," Faith says with a grin," let's see what you got then."

Buffy shakes her head. "I don't really want to fight," she says, but her hand shoots out as though to hit Faith in the stomach.

When Faith blocks her hit, Buffy grabs her arm and twists, forcing Faith to move with her. She brings Faith's arm behind her back, shoving her face first against the bed. "But I will if you insist," Buffy adds cheekily.

"This is fighting?" Faith asks, straining to look over her shoulder. "I thought it was foreplay."

Buffy instantly releases her, trying to step back. Faith follows, and Buffy finds herself pinned against the wall by strong hands.

"You fight dirty," Buffy accuses, looking at Faith's mischievous brown eyes.

Faith takes a step closer, her hands loosening so they aren't really holding Buffy back anymore. "So do you," she answers.

Buffy's heart gallops in her chest, making her breathing shallow. Faith's fingertips are warm where the overlap the thin straps of her tank top.

Faith thinks Buffy's got the prettiest eyes she's ever seen.

"We should eat," Buffy blurts out nervously.

Dropping her hands, Faith nods quickly. "Yeah, I'm starving."

XXXXX

Buffy and Faith arrive late, and the lakeside memorial vigil is already in progress. Buffy recognizes Malia, one of the retreat's meditation leaders, standing beside the giant bonfire and speaking into a microphone.

The crowd is somber, listening to her with rapt attention, and Buffy quickly follows suit as she and Faith try to blend in the fringes of the congregation.

"We honor their families. We honor their sacrifice. We honor their bravery, and we honor their lives," Malia says with emotion, apparently having reached the end of her speech. She reaches into a large drawstring bag in her hand, takes out a handful of powder, and tosses it into the flames. They illuminate bright pink for a moment, then fade to normal.

A group of men and women follow her lead, the dust from each of their bags changing the color of the fire. When they’ve finished, the crowd disperses, everyone breaking into smaller groups.

“Come on,” Faith says. Her hand slips into Buffy’s, threading their fingers together with ease. Buffy’s surprised, but her fingers curl automatically around Faith’s, allowing the other girl to lead her toward one of the docks on the lake. Faith sits on the edge, her toes dangling a few inches from the gently lapping water. Buffy joins her, smoothing down the hem of her short dress and crossing her booted legs. Faith doesn’t make any effort to loosen her hand, and Buffy finds she doesn’t really want to take hers back either. Faith lays their joined hands on her jean-clad thigh, her free hand playing with the tips of Buffy’s fingers.

The glow from the fire is behind Faith, tingeing the edges of her hair a soft red. Her dark eyes shine in the shadows of the dock. Buffy’s heart beats a little quicker in her chest. Faith’s obviously pretty, anyone can see that, but Buffy realizes just how pretty when she sees that soft smile playing with the edges of Faith’s lips. Her cheeks dimple just a little, and she comments, “Nice night.”

This isn’t the perfunctory acknowledgement of pretty she’s always done with other girls. It’s not a quick cataloging of aesthetics, she realizes, as that tingling feeling in her neck intensifies. Faith’s kind of pretty is twisting her belly in knots. “It is,” Buffy manages to agree, looking away so Faith won’t see the flush creeping up her neck.

“A little chilly though,” Faith adds, wiggling herself closer to Buffy’s side.

“We can go back up by the fire if you want,” Buffy offers halfheartedly. Faith’s shoulder is pressed to hers. Faith’s still got her hand, and Buffy doesn’t really want to leave the dock.

“I like it down here,” Faith says quietly, “with you.”

Buffy glances over in spite of herself, and finds Faith staring at her intently. “Me too,” she says. Faith reaches the hand not holding Buffy’s up, gently pushing her hair behind her ear. Her hand lingers, trailing to the curls at the end of Buffy’s long hair. Faith’s lips part. She leans a little closer. Her hand comes up to Buffy’s jaw again, fingertips just sliding into her hair when a clattering of footsteps alights on the dock behind them.

“Kennedy!” A voice shouts. “No fair! You’re cheating!”

They lean apart quickly, Faith looking behind them with annoyance.

Some of the younger potentials are playing tag, and they quickly run back off the dock to the beach. When Faith looks back, Buffy chuckles, looking down at her lap.

“Kids,” Faith says, irritated.

Buffy nods in agreement. “I can’t believe they can get called that young.”

“My watcher says it’s usually later,” Faith answers. “We’re around the right age.”

“India’s been the slayer for three years now. Maybe we’ll age out before the next slayer is called,” Buffy says hopefully. She’s read some of the Watchers’ Diaries Giles has copies of. So many of the slayers lived short, brutal lives. No matter how beautiful or brilliant, in the end it all comes down to meeting the pointy end of something’s teeth. Being a potential is bad enough. Buffy has no desire to ever find out what the next step in the compulsory career path is like.

“It’d be cool,” Faith says, on the absolute opposite page from Buffy. “Being the one girl in all the world. Having a destiny.” Her voice is wistful.

“You’d want to be the slayer?” Buffy asks in disbelief.

“Sure,” Faith says easily. “Kicking demon ass and taking names? Why not?”

“Because the average time from calling to death is 18 months,” Buffy answers, clearly confused by Faith’s enthusiasm. “I don’t want to die before I get out of high school.”

“I’m not afraid of dying,” Faith says honestly. The way she figures it, there are worse things than dying. She’s seen some of them. Her life has been on a definite upswing since Diana showed up at the door to their tiny apartment with some papers for Faith’s mother to sign. She’s got enough to eat. She’s got someone who cares about her and looks after her. Sure, she has to actually show up to school and keep passing grades, but that’s not so bad.

“What about your parents?” Buffy asks. “Your friends?”

Faith shrugs off her question without responding, casting her gaze out to the glittering waters of the lake. She lets go of Buffy’s hand, and Buffy moves it back to her lap.

She looks at Faith’s closed off posture with some hurt. “Sorry,” she says, “I didn’t mean to pry.”

“S’okay,” Faith says, but she doesn’t move to take Buffy’s hand again.

Buffy waits hopefully for a few moments, but Faith doesn’t say anything else. She touches Faith’s forearm. “Really, I’m sorry,” Buffy says. “Can we go back to the part where you were about to kiss me?” She asks with a nervous laugh. “I liked that part better.”

Faith’s surprised gaze swings back to hers.

Buffy’s brow furrows. “You were about to kiss me, right?” Not leaving Faith a chance to respond, she says, “Oh, God, you weren’t.” She starts to stand up. “I gotta go umm, find a hole to swallow me and—”

“B,” Faith says, getting to her feet also, “stop.” She takes Buffy’s wrist, forcing her to halt a few steps up the dock. “Has anyone ever told you you're really cute when you babble like that?” She asks, grinning.

Buffy frowns, stung. She yanks her arm free of Faith’s grasp and turns on her heel.

“Aw, come on,” Faith says from behind her, giving chase.

Buffy reaches the beach, her heeled boots making progress quite an ordeal. Faith falls into step beside her. “I was just teasing you,” she defends herself.

“Buffy?” Giles appears in their path, glancing quickly at Faith before focusing on his charge.

“Hey, Giles,” Buffy says, trying not to appear upset. “What’s up?”

“I thought we could call your mother and check in,” he suggests.

Buffy nods, continuing up the beach. Faith stands alone on the sand, watching her go.

XXXXX

Buffy doesn’t have much time to think about the night before with Faith as she spends most of the morning barely managing to keep her head attached to her body. She’s paired with a much more advanced potential in Blunt Weapons Training who seems to delight in making her jump. The instructor in Slayer Lineage is actually really cool, and Buffy manages to lose herself in the history of the slayers who lived and fought before her time. By the time she walks out of dinner with Kendra at her side, she’s too tired to do much thinking. She sees Faith briefly across the dining room, but she studiously averts her gaze.

Buffy’s out cold for the night when someone begins to gently shake her shoulder. She opens her eyes groggily to find the bedside lamp on and Kendra grinning down at her. “Rise and shine,” Kendra says cheerfully, fully dressed in slaying clothes.

“What’s going on?” Buffy asks, confused.

“Get dressed,” Kendra says, tossing an outfit on Buffy’s legs. “I’ll explain on the way.”

XXXXX

“So we’re sneaking out?” Buffy whispers incredulously as she creeps down the hall toward one of the side doors. “You’re sneaking out?”

“It’s tradition,” Kendra says defensively. “Every year we go on a midnight hunt. It’s supposed to be only the oldest girls, the most experienced, but I think you can handle it.” Kendra eases open the external door, peeks outside a moment, and then waves Buffy forward.

Buffy smiles at the compliment momentarily, before reverting to confusion. “But wait, there’s a demon here? On the grounds? How?”

Kendra shrugs. “Like I said, it’s tradition.” She crouches, leading Buffy in a jog across the outer courtyard. Once they’re in the grass, away from the courtyard lights, Kendra slows, standing up fully.  

"Are you sure I should be going?" Buffy asks nervously, sticking close to Kendra's side.

Kendra glances at her as she leads the way down toward the lake. "You’ve slayed before, right?"

Buffy nods uncertainly. "Sure, but Giles was always with me. I haven't been like... unsupervised."

Kendra's smile is reassuring. "Don't worry, Buffy. Everyone's nervous their first time. There are more of us than there will be of it."

"Speaking of it," Buffy says, "what exactly is it? Are we talking like a couple vamps or like… Der Kindestod?"

"You've studied the Germanic demons?" Kendra asks with approval in her voice. Then she frowns. “Although not very well. Der Kindestod only hunts children.”

Buffy looks flabbergasted. "Kendra!"

An amused snort is her response. "We'll find out when we get there."

Buffy's about to protest further, but they step through the tree line and onto the beach beside the lake. A dozen or so girls mill about, all of them dressed sensibly for butt kicking and seemingly raring to go. A few yards away, Buffy spots the last person she wants to see. She turns quickly, trying to put Kendra's body between her and Faith, but she's not quite fast enough. Faith notices her and immediately starts forward in their direction.

One of the potentials steps onto the dock and turns back to face them. "Everybody ready to kick some butt?" She asks, and the girls cheer loudly in response.

“That’s Shawna,” Kendra says quietly. “She’s very good.”

Buffy nods distractedly as Faith arrives at her side with a tentative smile. "Hey, B."

Buffy glares at her, trying to pay attention to the girl who's speaking.

"Hiding somewhere in the woods behind me is a pair of Asphyx demons, and we're going to find 'em and take 'em out."

As everyone else shouts their agreement, Faith steps closer into Buffy's space, knocking their elbows together. "Come on, you're still pissed?"

"Shh," Buffy hisses at her, pulling her elbow firmly against her side to prevent errant brushing.

"I see a couple of new faces tonight," Shawna continues to address them. "So let's remember to watch each other's backs. Nobody hunts alone."

"Look," Faith whispers loudly, "I'm sorry, okay?"

Kendra turns, giving them both an exasperated look.

Faith displays a large fake smile, the picture of innocence.

Kendra shakes her head, clearly annoyed, and turns back around.

"Any questions?" Shawna asks.

Even Faith manages to remain quiet.

"Good," she says, breaking into a wide grin. Shawna pulls a seriously sharp dagger from her sleeve and flips it in the air, catching the hilt easily in her hand. "Then let's go kill something."

When Kendra moves, Buffy tries to follow suit, only to find her hand being trapped in a warm grip.

"Give me two minutes," Faith says, dropping her chin so she's looking at Buffy through her eyelashes.

"Buffy?" Kendra asks, already a few feet away. "You coming?"

Faith's pleading look is thawing the ice around Buffy's heart somewhat. "I'll be right behind you," Buffy says, sighing. As Kendra and the other potentials start making their way toward the other side of the lake, Buffy gives Faith a stern look. "What?"

"I'm sorry," Faith says again, her thumb rubbing circles on the inside of Buffy's wrist.

"You said that," Buffy answers shortly, but she doesn't pull her arm away from Faith's grasp.

"Yeah. Isn't this the part where you accept my apology?" Faith asks as if it should be obvious.

Narrowing her eyes, Buffy yanks her arm free. "Forgive me for not swooning."

Faith rolls her eyes. "Seriously? It's not like I killed your dog or something." She kind of thinks she deserves some swooning. After all, all she really did was not react fast enough to Buffy wanting to kiss her.

"You're an ass; you know that?" Buffy says, crossing her arms.

"Takes one to know one," Faith says.

Buffy shakes her head in annoyance and starts to stomp after the other potentials.

“B,” Faith exclaims after her. When Buffy keeps walking, Faith curses and starts to jog. “Can we go back to the part where I was going to kiss you?” She calls toward Buffy’s back.

Buffy stops, leaving Faith time to catch up with her.

Faith catches up, tentatively reaching up to brush some of Buffy’s hair away from her face. The look on Buffy’s face is no longer angry, but hesitant. “I didn’t mean to embarrass you yesterday,” Faith says sincerely. “You gotta admit though, you kind of freaked out. Didn’t really give me time to react.”

Buffy considers this. It had happened pretty quickly. And okay, she might have overreacted a tiny bit.

“A little?” Faith wheedles, tugging gently at the end of Buffy’s hair.

That earns her a small smile. “A teeny, tiny little bit,” Buffy clarifies.

“I’ll take it,” Faith says. She starts to say something else, but finds herself abruptly flung across the sand, crashing hard along the shore.

She looks up to see Buffy struggling with a gray-scaled demon. He’s clearly got the upper hand. Faith shakes off the ringing in her ears and stumbles to her feet, running toward them.

Buffy ducks a wide swing from the demon, dropping to her belly. She rolls to the side to avoid a crushing stomp.

Faith runs straight into the demon, tackling him to the ground. She tries to stay on his back while simultaneously reaching into her boot for the dagger she’s got stashed there.

The demon roars, tossing her off easily. Faith strikes with her dagger, cutting the demon’s calf.

It only serves to anger him, and Buffy yells, “Aim higher!”

“Thank you!” Faiths shouts back, as she narrowly avoids being stomped on. “I hadn’t thought of that!”

Buffy winces from the sidelines, watching as Faith executes a very impressive flip up to her feet.

“What do you have on you?” Faith calls as the demon circles her, preparing to attack.

“Nothing!”

“Nothing?” Faith asks incredulously. “What were you gonna slay with?”

It’s possible the demon speaks English, because it chooses this moment to turn and advance on Buffy.

“Uhhhhh shit,” Buffy mutters, quickly looking around the beach for something she can use as a weapon. The only thing in reach is a piece of driftwood, and Buffy quickly grabs it, yanking upward against its unexpected weight.

The demon growls, deep green eyes glowering at her from above its snout.

“Shit, shit,” Buffy mutters.

Faith tackles the demon again, and the two of them fall at Buffy’s feet, grappling in the sand.

“Shit,” Buffy whimpers, holding the driftwood above her head. If she takes a swing, she might hit Faith.

Faith cries out as its claws create four matching gashes in her arm. Buffy knows she has to act or risk Faith getting hurt further.

She takes a centering breath like Giles is always encouraging her to do, steels herself, and swings the driftwood down. It conks the demon soundly in the back, and it groans its displeasure.

Turning from Faith, it leaps at Buffy, who pulls her driftwood back like a bat, and lets loose. It sends the demon’s face whipping back, and he stumbles.

Faith sticks one leg out, tripping the demon. It falls before her on its back, and Faith sinks her dagger squarely in the middle of its throat.

She takes a moment to catch her breath, grimacing at the gurgling sounds that are the demon’s final breaths. When he’s still, Faith retracts her knife, quickly wiping it off on her pant leg.

Buffy stretches a hand down to her. Just as Faith grasps it, the demon’s body explodes, with blood and gore flying outward.

Buffy looks at Faith, who is bearing the brunt of the explosion all over her person, and crinkles her nose in dismay. She hauls Faith to her feet, and they look down at themselves.

Faith flings her hands outward, sending more demon bits flying in all directions. “Jesus,” she complains. “Are you okay?”

Buffy surveys the viscous blood dripping from her clothing in disgust. “I’m having a serious attack of ew.”

Faith chuckles, shaking some goo from her hair. “You were bad ass though.”

Surprised, Buffy looks at her. “You think so?”

“Totally,” Faith says.

Smiling, Buffy pulls a clean bit of her sleeve down from under her jacket and reaches for Faith’s cheek. “You’ve got a little…” She trails off, carefully wiping the blood from Faith’s face.

“You’ve got a lot,” Faith counters, her hands finding Buffy’s waist.

Buffy’s fingers linger on Faith’s clean cheek. She doesn’t protest when Faith closes the small gap between them. Their clothing makes a loud squelching noise as they press together. “Still pretty though,” Faith adds quietly. She tucks some sticky hair behind Buffy’s ear, then uses her thumb to encourage Buffy’s jaw upward.

Their mouths meet gently, and Buffy’s eyes flutter shut with a small sigh. Her skin feels cold where her damp clothing clings to her, but Faith’s arms are warm and solid around her. Buffy winds her free arm behind Faith’s neck, keeping her close.

Thick blood drips freely from them, puddling at their feet as Faith tightens her hold. The fire lit dock would have made for a better first kiss, but somehow it feels like one of the most romantic things that’s ever happened to her. They just killed a demon together, and Buffy’s not sure she’s ever looked so disgusting, but Faith looked at her like she was the most beautiful thing she’d ever seen. 

Faith’s fingers slip under the hem of her shirt, touching the warm skin of Buffy’s lower back. Buffy tugs encouragingly at Faith’s hair, and they begin to kiss deeper.

She’s so engrossed in Faith that it takes Buffy a few moments to realize that she’s hearing clapping. She opens her eyes, peering over Faith’s nose to see a crowd of potentials standing over the dissolving mess of Asphyx demon.

A wolf whistle sends Buffy scuttling backward, red faced and wide eyed.

“Don’t stop on our account,” Shawna says, stepping forward from the rest of the clapping girls. She’s teasing, but her smile seems genuine. She nudges the demon body with her toe. “You two do this?”

“Yeah,” Faith says, her tone challenging. If they’re about to hear a lecture on breaking out of the slay pack, she’s not about to listen.

Shawna eyes them both. “What’re your names?” She asks.

“Buffy,” Buffy volunteers quietly, still mortified.

“Faith,” Faith says, giving Shawna an unimpressed look.

Shawna holds her gaze for a moment, then turns back toward the group and says, “Well, let’s hear it for the babes. They bagged one on their own!”

The potentials cheer for them, and Kendra steps forward, slinging an arm around Buffy’s shoulder. “Time for the post-hunt feast!” She says.

XXXXX

The last night of the retreat is the one that everyone’s been looking forward to. India Cohen’s appearance is no longer tentative pending no apocalyptic signs, but confirmed. By virtue of having killed one of the Asphyx on their own, Faith and Buffy have two seats reserved at the front of the auditorium. Faith slips into hers moments before India takes the stage, shrugging off Buffy’s castigating look.

Buffy fervently hopes to never be the slayer, but even she can’t help but be impressed by India. She’s an average looking woman, slight in stature and thin, but her presence seems to fill the room. Every potential is totally captivated, the auditorium so quiet you could hear a pin drop. India talks about fear and embracing fear rather than trying to extinguish it from your life. She talks about trusting your instincts above all else. She takes questions from the audience, but Buffy is too shy to ask any.

The final question comes from a very small girl in the front, and India listens patiently as she asks, “What’s your favorite color?”

“What’s your name, sweetheart?” India asks, squatting down so she can be closer to the girl’s eye level.

“Rona,” the little girl replies.

“Rona,” India says, “my favorite color is purple. You know why?”

Rona shakes her head.

India says, “Purple is my favorite color because that’s the color the sky turns just when the sun is beginning to rise. And every time the sun rises, I know I’m still here. Another night is over, and we’re all still here.” India stands up, looking at all of them quite sincerely. “I don’t know who will be next—and I sure hope it’s not going to be anytime soon—but whoever you are, if you don’t remember anything else from this trip, remember I said this. The first rule of slaying is, ‘don’t die.’ That’s it. Do what you can and watch every single sunrise.” She looks to the side of the stage, holding the microphone out. One of the council members jogs out, accepting it and thanking India for coming. She smiles and waves to their thunderous applause.

XXXXX

That night, tucked on the sofa in the little library upstairs, Buffy looks thoughtful. “She seemed sad, didn’t she?”

Faith looks confused. “She seemed bad ass. Did you know she killed a Braznarc demon? They have like 10 arms; it’s sick.”

Buffy smirks. “They should make India trading cards.”

“I’d buy ‘em,” Faith says, half serious.

“Did you wanna get started designing those?” Buffy snarks. “Should I leave you alone?”

Faith joins her on the couch, kneeling beside Buffy’s legs. “That would definitely not be a good idea,” she advises. “Who would you make out with then?”

“Kendra?” Buffy suggests impishly.

Faith fakes a growl, and Buffy giggles.

“Very funny,” Faith says. “Go make out with Kendra then.”

“Will you shut up and kiss me already?” Buffy asks, taking the front of Faith’s shirt and yanking her closer.

Faith pauses a hair’s breadth from Buffy’s lips. “You’re so hot when you get bossy.” Then they’re kissing. Buffy tastes like cotton candy. Faith can’t get enough of Buffy’s mouth, or the way her breasts press into Faith’s when they lay together on the couch. She could do this forever.

When the sun rises the next morning, Faith’s watching from the couch, still awake. Buffy’s lying beside her, head resting on Faith’s shoulder, sleeping soundly.

“B,” Faith whispers, nudging her, “wake up.”

“Huh?” Buffy mumbles, opening her eyes.

“Sun’s coming up,” Faith says, smiling as Buffy yawns.

Buffy wiggles upward, peering over the top of the couch to see out the window. Faith’s chest presses against her back, her arm warm where it wraps around Buffy’s middle. Resting her chin on Buffy’s shoulder, she says, “I can’t believe we leave today. Seems like we just got here.”

“I know,” Buffy agrees. Before coming, she’d already been looking forward to leaving. Now that she’s met Faith, she’s reluctant to go. She looks over her shoulder, nose almost bumping Faith’s. “Am I ever gonna see you again?”

Faith’s brow creases. Leaning forward, she kisses Buffy softly. “Count on it,” she says.

Three years later

“Buffy?” Willow asks with concern, “What’s wrong?”

Buffy’s keen eyes are sweeping the dance floor. She’s got the most peculiar feeling in the back of her neck. “I’m not sure,” Buffy says, spotting a couple sweeping out the front door to the Bronze. Getting up, she quickly makes her way across the dance floor. She swerves to the side to avoid Scott Hope, who’s watching her approach with a hopeful look. Outside, Buffy hesitates in the cool autumn night, but the sounds of fighting draw her around the side of the building into the alley.

When she arrives, stake at the ready, Buffy freezes mid step, staring into the alley in surprise. Her stake is plucked from her hand just as her friends arrive beside her.

The vampire turns to dust before their eyes. Shaking dust off her clothes, Faith steps over to them. She holds Buffy’s stake out and grins. “Thanks, B, couldn’t have done it without you.”

Buffy laughs and seizes Faith in a hug. “Oh, my God! Faith!”

Behind them, Willow and Xander exchange startled looks. “This is the Faith?” Xander whispers to Willow.

Blessed with slayer hearing, Faith smirks as Buffy gives her an inch of breathing room. “The Faith, huh?” She asks. “I see my reputation precedes me.”

“I might have mentioned you once or twice,” Buffy admits.

“Once or twice, huh?” Faith says skeptically. “What did you tell ‘em?” She grins, her dimples flashing easily as she waits for a response.

“I can’t remember,” Buffy says honestly. She’s too busy staring into Faith’s shining brown eyes to remember much of anything at this moment.

“I take it you’re happy to see me,” Faith says, as their mouths drift closer together.

“Mhmm,” Buffy agrees.

“You look good.”

“You look really good,” Buffy says. At the last moment, she remembers where they are and glances at her friends.

Willow and Xander stare back with interest. “Well, don’t stop there,” Willow teases.

“She looks really good,” Xander adds.

Buffy smiles brightly. “Introductions!”

XXXXX

“Your friends seem cool,” Faith says as they walk slowly in the general direction of her motel.

“Yeah, they’re great,” Buffy answers. “The council is so wrong about that slaying in secret thing.” She looks at Faith from the corner of her eye, watching the way she’s got her shoulders hunched, hands stuffed in her pockets. “What about you? Is being the slayer everything you thought it’d be?”

Faith raises her eyebrows. “Someone missed the naked alligator wrestling story.”

“No,” Buffy laughs, “I caught that. Don’t think for a second I believe even half of what you just told us, by the way.”

Faith touches a hand to her chest in mock shock. “You callin’ me a liar?”

“Yup,” Buffy says, “full stop. You’re full of it.”

“I can still kick your ass, you know,” Faith threatens, stepping sideways to knock her hip gently into Buffy’s.

Buffy stops walking, putting up her fists as if about to box. “You forget, I’ve been the slayer for quite some time now,” she says. “I even died once. I don’t think you wanna take me on.”

Faith scoffs. “Just because I’ve only been the slayer since…” She trails off when she sees the laughter fade from Buffy’s face.

“Five months,” Buffy says, looking away. “Almost to the day.”

“Right,” Faith says. She reaches for Buffy’s hand. “I’m really sorry about Kendra.”

Squeezing Faith’s hand back, Buffy nods. “So am I.” She blinks back the tears that still come so easily when she thinks of Kendra before looking back to Faith. “I know you’re not here on vacation, Faith. You wanna tell me what’s going on?”

Faith swallows hard, dropping her eyes to her feet.

Buffy doesn’t push her. She just holds her hand and waits until Faith can say it.

Faith’s voice shakes when she answers, “Diana’s dead.”

Closing her eyes for a moment, Buffy shakes her head in sympathy.

Faith continues, her words practically tumbling free, “It’s Kakistos, and I know he’s gotta be following me and I led him right to you. I’m sorry; I just didn’t know what else to do and—”

“It’s okay,” Buffy says, grabbing her in a tight hug. Faith is clearly terrified of this Kissing Toast guy. “You did the right thing,” she adds.

Faith grips the back of Buffy’s jacket in both hands. “I shouldn’t have come.”

“Hey,” Buffy says sternly, “me and you? We’re the Chosen Two. Any time you need me, I’ve got your back. Same goes for me, right?” She looks seriously into Faith’s eyes.

Faith nods, but she doesn’t look totally convinced.

“If Taquitos shows up here,” Buffy promises, “we’re gonna make him pay for what he did. Okay?" Her gaze is steady and reassuring.

This is a whole new Buffy. There's no hint of that young girl who worried she wasn't as good as the other potentials. This Buffy's got a spine of steel. Faith thinks about India Cohen—how untouchable and otherworldly she looked standing on the stage the last night of the retreat. She'd been awed then and she's awed now. Whatever mystical force directs the slayer line, Buffy's got it in spades. This is the kind of slayer she wants to be. She's only felt it a few times since she was called, but standing next to Buffy, Faith feels her own shoulders draw back. Her chin comes up defiantly.

"Yeah," she agrees, and her voice is stronger. "We'll take him out. For Diana."

"For Diana," Buffy says solemnly. She gives Faith’s shoulders an affectionate shake. "Let's go see Giles and get into research mode."

Faith nods. "Thanks," she says, pulling the back of Buffy's jacket lightly before she lets her go.

They start walking again. After a few moments, Buffy glances at her. "You never wrote me," she says neutrally.

"You didn't write me either," Faith points out.

"I was kind of busy with getting called and dying and all," Buffy says reasonably. Off Faith's look, she adds, "Okay, you're right. I should have."

Faith steps a little closer, letting their hands brush together as they walk. "I thought about you a lot," she says softly.

"You did?" Buffy asks, surprised. She'd thought about Faith too. When she'd gotten back from the retreat, she'd thought of little else. Then came her calling. Then came Angel. She still thought of Faith sometimes, but the week they'd spent together felt like another lifetime. Now that her old life is intersecting with her new one, all the old feelings are rushing back. Faith has gotten better looking with age, if that's even possible. Her hair's longer, her body well muscled and more mature. She's still got the same beautiful eyes.

"Yeah," Faith says, "you were the first girl I kissed." If Buffy didn't know better, she'd swear Faith were shy.

"You're the only girl I've kissed," Buffy replies, feeling a flush creep up her neck as she thinks about kissing Faith. She'd thought she'd outgrown the blushing thing, but apparently Faith brings it out.

"Really?" Faith asks, surprised. "Not for lack of takers," she says, looking Buffy up and down deliberately.

Buffy laughs and smacks her arm lightly. When Faith catches her hand, she laces their fingers together.

"Yeah," Buffy answers. "I had a boyfriend for a while." Her throat momentarily feels like it might close at the thought of Angel, but Buffy swallows hard. Angel is gone, and he's not coming back.

"Dumped him?" Faith asks curiously.

They're turning down Giles's street, and Buffy can see his light is on. She takes a deep breath. "No," she says. "Angel was a vampire, but he had a soul. Something happened and he lost his soul. He was evil... trying to end the world, so I killed him." She blinks her dry, aching eyes. "About a minute after he got his soul back."

Faith's eyebrows inch toward her hair. "Wow."

"Yeah," Buffy says flatly. She hasn't told anyone else about Angel getting his soul back. She just can't bring herself to talk about it. Faith wasn't here; she doesn't know any of the history, and it just kind of comes out. It feels like a huge burden has fallen off her shoulders. Buffy meets Faith's eyes. "I haven't really talked about it... with the gang."

Nodding her understanding, Faith promises, "I won't say a word." She looks at Buffy, gauging her mood for a moment before she adds, "I guess I'll let you off the hook for not writing then."

Surprised, Buffy laughs. "Thanks," she says, "very generous of you."

"Well, you played the 'sacrificed my boyfriend to save the world card,'" Faith says with a shrug.

From anyone else, it would sound callous, but Buffy knows Faith's only trying to make her feel better. "I'm not letting you off the hook so easily," Buffy points out.

They stop in front of Giles's building. "You wanna have a go?" Faith asks. "See who lands on top?"

Buffy perks her eyebrow at the innuendo. "Maybe later," she says. "We're here. This is Giles's place."

Faith looks up at the building with some trepidation.

"Hey," Buffy says, squeezing Faith's hand, "we're gonna take him out. I promise."

Faith nods, and the two start up the walkway.

XXXXX

Kakistos ends up dust beneath their boots. Buffy and Faith stand in the empty warehouse letting their racing heartbeats slow. "You okay?" Faith asks, still catching her breath.

Buffy nods, touching the fading red marks Kakistos's hands left on her throat. "Yeah, you?"

"I'm okay," Faith says, looking at Buffy's neck in concern. She moves closer, her fingers gently prodding Buffy's chin upward so she can get a better look at the bruises.

"I'm fine," Buffy reassures her.

Faith nods, but she doesn't let go, turning Buffy's chin so she can see the other side.

"Faith," Buffy says gently, her hands finding Faith's hips. "Really, I'm fine." She's surprised when Faith pulls her into a hug, her face pressed to Buffy's dusty hair.

"When I saw him choking you..." She says, her voice thick. "You could've been killed because of me."

"Hey," Buffy jokes, stroking her back gently, "don't take too much credit. I get killed all on my own."

Faith laughs, and her hold loosens a little bit. She pulls back to look Buffy in the eyes. "Not again. Not on my watch."

"You either," Buffy says seriously.

Nodding, Faith gently pulls Buffy's hair back to the nape of her neck. "I promise," she says, her free hand gently touching the bruises Kakistos left.

Buffy takes a deep breath. They're entering dangerous territory, and Faith feels it too, if her hungry and horny joke to the Scoobs is any indication.

Faith leans in slowly, giving Buffy ample time to pull away if she wants to. Buffy stands stock still, wide eyes focused on Faith as she lowers her head to brush Buffy's red skin with her lips.

Her eyes slip closed, and Buffy's breath escapes in a quick huff. She grabs the back of Faith's long hair and yanks, forcing Faith's head back. Her other hand takes the back of Faith's neck, keeping her from stumbling backward when Buffy's mouth lands on hers, hard.

Faith's moan isn't one of protest. Her hands find Buffy's lower back and she presses her forward, not satisfied with the fact that they're already flush against one another. She tears her mouth free from Buffy's, going back to the delicate skin of her neck.

Buffy's hands press on her shoulders, hips rolling upward like Faith's a ladder she wants to climb.

Faith palms the back of her thighs, lifting her up easily. Buffy wraps her legs around Faith's waist, crying out in surprise when her back hits the door to the warehouse none too gently.

"Your place," she says between gasps, as Faith's tongue dips into her collarbone.

"Uh uh," Faith disagrees, managing to use her tongue for talking, "right here."

Buffy's not the kind of girl who thrills at getting dirty. She's more into pillows or at the very least a nice rug. But she remembers the Master and how she didn't stop having nightmares until she'd pounded his bones to rubble. Faith doesn't have bones to break, but she can still take the power back. So Buffy hooks her hands under Faith's t-shirt, and they struggle to stay upright as Faith transfers her arms out one at a time.

Faith tosses her shirt away and sets Buffy on her feet. Buffy's damp skin breaks into goose bumps as Faith unzips her fly.  "I want you," Faith says breathlessly, her eyes dark as she presses Buffy back against the metal door.

Buffy reaches for her, cupping Faith through her jeans. "I want you too," she says, pressing her fingers hard into the seam of Faith's pants.

Faith's eyes roll back momentarily, then she regains control, sliding her fingers into Buffy's panties.

Buffy spreads her legs while she tries to unbutton Faith's pants with her left hand. Her right digs into Faith's hip as Faith's fingers slide inside her.

Successfully navigating the button and zipper keeping her from Faith, Buffy grabs the waist of Faith's jeans and drags them down a few inches. More would be helpful, but she can't wait. Buffy slides her hand up Faith's sticky wet thigh until she meets soaked cotton.

Faith's hips press in close to hers as Buffy's fingers push her panties aside and meet her slick sex. Their faces press together, Faith's body pinning Buffy's to the door. The sounds of their ragged breathing echo in the empty warehouse.

Buffy comes first, grateful to be sandwiched between Faith and the door as her knees go weak. Faith's name is muffled as Buffy's mouth presses against the salty skin behind her ear. Faith doesn't make it much longer, and Buffy's recovered enough to support her as her body trembles in her arms.

Once she regains her senses, Faith carefully retracts her hand from Buffy's pants, bringing her wet fingers to her mouth.

Buffy waits until she's done licking her fingers clean, then she pulls Faith's mouth to hers. The two of them struggle to stay upright on shaky legs, and Faith lets out a noise of discontent when Buffy pulls her hand free from her underwear.

Faith ends the kiss, pressing her damp forehead to Buffy's. She struggles to catch her breath. Buffy lets her eyes close for a moment, her hand softly stroking Faith's back. "That was worth waiting for," Faith says at length.

Buffy can tell she's grinning just from her tone. She nods her agreement, stealing a soft kiss. "Stick around," she says. "There might be more where that came from."

"Counting on it," Faith says, laughing. She brings her hands to Buffy's hair, tucking it gently behind both ears and cupping her neck softly. "Walk me home? I've got leftover pizza and a really big bed."

Buffy smiles. "You had me at pizza."

"You had me at forgetting your name and almost puking all over my shoes," Faith teases. She lets Buffy go reluctantly, reaching down to pull up her jeans.

"That was a tactic," Buffy answers, already missing the weight of Faith leaning against her. "It worked, didn't it?"

"Like a charm," Faith says, scooping her shirt off the floor. She pulls it on and holds out her hand for Buffy's.

Buffy takes it, wrapping her free hand around Faith’s bicep so they’re smushed together.

“I take it you like to cuddle after sex.”

“Faith?” Buffy says sweetly.

“Yeah, B?”

“Shut up.”

“You got it,” Faith says.