The Slayer Chronicles: The Sunnydale Years

Chronicle Two: Prison of Choice

by

sHaYcH

Disclaimer: Joss & Co. own ‘em, I don’t.

The "d’uh" department disclaimer: This story is a sequel to "Her Little Secrets" wherein Willow and Tara, just like on TV, become rather close. This situation does not change. : ) However, some other canon relationships do. My apologies if this does not fit in with your vision of the Buffyverse. You can always find another story that does. : )

Note: This story is a big departure from canon. In my universe, most of the events of "Sanctuary" do not occur. However, "Five by Five" does. In this story, "Five by Five" happens right after "Who Are You". The episodes, "New Moon Rising" and "Sanctuary" do not happen. In their place, the events of my previous story, "Her Little Secrets" take place. This story also overlaps "Her Little Secrets" some, with events pertaining to Faith, Angel, Cordelia and Wesley. My apologies for any confusion, write me and maybe I can explain it a little better. LOL Anyway, I just couldn’t see putting Faith in jail when she works so well in fanfic! : )

Comments and criticisms are always welcome : ) You can reach me at: shaych3@yahoo.com.

Cordelia Chase was applying the finishing touches on her Wild Raspberry nail gloss when the phone rang. Rolling her eyes, she delicately lifted the receiver and sing-songed, "Angel Investigations: We help the hopeless. How may we help you today?"

"I wish to speak to Angel," a deep, strangely resonant voice commanded.

"I'll see if he's in," Cordy replied cheerfully, all the while giving the phone a dirty look. Carefully, she got up and stuck her head into her boss' office, then ducked as a hatchet came flying over her shoulder and buried itself into the wall. She stood up and gave Faith, Angel's latest 'project' a hard glare.

"Oops, sorry, Queen C. I'll try to be more careful," Faith smirked, raking the other girl with a glance as she toweled sweat off her face. The slayer wore a pair of loose fitting sweats and a sports bra, showing off a decent amount of well-muscled tan skin. Cordelia frowned, wondering if the dark-haired slayer dressed like that just to irritate her.

"Nice outfit? What’d you do, hold up a sporting goods store?" Cordy snapped acidly.

Faith’s cheek twitched, but she didn’t rise to the receptionist’s bait. Instead, she smiled and replied, "Why, you looking to scam a couple of cheap leisure suits, Cordy?"

"What is it Cordelia?" Angel asked softly as he straightened from a sparring crouch.

"Phone call," Cordy replied sharply, then ducked back out into the receiving room.

Angel reached over and picked up his phone, "Hello?"

"Hello, Angel," the voice said casually. "I wonder if I might interest you in salvation?"

The hairs on the back of the vampire's neck prickled as his caller spoke. "Maybe," he said, trying to see where the person was trying to lead him.

"I am seeking . . . leaders to serve under my command. In return, I give them whatever they want."

"Sorry, not interested," Angel said, hanging up the phone.

In Sunnydale, a demonic hand settled a pay phone onto its cradle. "Shame. I really did not want to have to kill him. A vampire with a soul would have made such an interesting study."

"What's up, Angel?" Faith asked as she practiced her high kicks, striking the kick bag at shoulder level.

Angel shook his head. "Nothing," he said, sitting down and steepling his fingers under his chin.

Faith rolled her eyes. "You know something, V-boy? You're about as forthcoming as a dry sponge." She kicked the bag again, then wandered over to sit on the edge of his desk, mopping her face with the towel.

Angel shrugged and half-smiled. "It goes well with the morose demeanor, don't you think?" he said, leaning back in his chair with a mysterious smile hovering over his lips.

The slayer tossed her towel at him and strolled out into the reception area to bother Cordy. The brunette some-time actress, some-time receptionist and full-time bitch was busily covering her nails in a second coat of gloss. Faith pursed her lips and put a hand on her hip.

"Making sure the armor plating won't come off?" she drawled, hitching herself up on Cordy’s desk and picking up a bottle of the dark red polish.

Cordy feigned indifference and continued to apply the paint one stroke at a time.

"Aww, come on Cordy, banter with me. Angel's being hold-out boy on me." Faith tried pleading, putting the bottle down and batting her eyelashes at the receptionist prettily.

Cordy snickered, then said, "Well at least I'm not the only one who gets to experience the frustration of Tall, Dark and Gloomy keeping the plans to himself." She blew on her nails. Faith gave her puppy dog eyes. Cordelia rolled her eyes and sighed dramatically, adding, "I'm not in the mood to banter. I'm still a little tired from yesterday." Cordy made a big show of yawning hugely.

Faith made a little 'O' of understanding and nodded. "All right, I'll let you off this time," she said, then flicked her eyes down to the receptionist’s now bright red nails. "Hot date?" she asked, raising her eyebrows.

Cordelia snorted. "Damn right you will. I've still got a headache from hell. And I thought that visions were bad! As for my love life," Or lack thereof, she added mentally, "That's none of your bee’s wax."

Yesterday, at the request of Angel - and it was only because he'd asked nicely - she'd led the emotionally damaged slayer to The Oracle for judgment. The receptionist shuddered as she recalled the miles of sewage encrusted tunnels that she'd led Faith and Angel down. Her shoes would never be the same, and she was certain that there was still a distinctive odor emanating from her body. However, it had all been worth it when they had reached the huge set of double doors with the odd looking statues that came to life at her touch. Faith had looked at her with such admiration when the doors had opened at her request. Now why the hell would I care what Faith thinks? Cordy paused to ask herself, then shrugged and picked up an emery board and began finishing off her nails.

Of course, once they had all walked in, she had been shepherded off to the care of some old biddy with bone-white eyes. Cordy frowned. Now there was a woman in dire need of a makeover. Basic black was so very unbecoming on the elderly. Maybe some peach and some nice light plum... Cordelia’s eyes unfocused as she lost herself in imaginary costume design. At any rate, the old woman had taken the time to tell Cordy in a halting, oxygen deprived voice all about when she was the Seer. The receptionist had all but fallen asleep waiting for Faith and Angel to finish with the Oracles. One piece of information did stick with Cordelia and that was that a tiny drop of clove oil on her tongue supposedly did wonders to alleviate the reaction headaches she suffered after a vision. She had every intention of putting that little bit of information to the test. When they were finished, she was going to head over to a Chinese herbalist’s shop she knew of and pick up a small bottle of the stuff.

Faith watched as Cordelia finished her nails, then drifted off into some little realm of her own. The slayer squashed an urge to reach out and push a little strand of hair out of the receptionist's face as she fidgeted with her shoelaces. Everything - she owed Cordy everything. The other woman didn't know it of course, but The Powers That Be had made it crystal clear to Faith just how much she owed Cordelia.

If Cordy hadn't brought Faith to them, The Oracle had told her, then she would have been marked for termination by The Powers That Be. As much as Faith teetered the line between life and death on a daily basis, she did not want to deal with having her choice in the matter taken away from her. Besides, she was coming to appreciate some of what life had to offer, living under Angel’s roof. He had given her so much in so little time. Sure, she had her days when she slipped and slid back into "bad Faith" but Angel was invariably right there for her. The vampire was always willing to spar, or talk, or whatever she needed to do just to be able to breathe one more second. So she owed Cordelia big time and she intended to pay that debt. For now though, she would tweak the other girl's chain when she could, because, well, she was still Faith and that was what she did.

"Well," she drawled, "if you won't banter with me, then I guess I'll just have to sit here and stare at you 'cuz there ain't nothing else to do around here." The slayer smirked and started "checking out" Cordelia, allowing her gaze to linger on the other girl's lips, breasts and hips.

"Oh stop it!" Cordy growled, leaning forward and playfully slapping Faith's thigh. "Why don't you go slay something or ... or..."

The door to the agency opened, letting in Wesley Wyndham-Pryce, Faith's ex-Watcher. The Englishman smiled pleasantly at Cordelia and said, "Hello, Cordy." He ignored Faith completely.

The slayer looked down and away, too ashamed to meet the man's eyes. She knew that she would only see disgust and hatred there. The awkward moment passed when Angel poked his head out and said, "Wesley, I'm glad you're here. Come in, we need to talk."

"Right away, boss," Wes said, nodding to Cordelia again, then following Angel into his office.

Faith hopped off of Cordy's desk and paced around the room, playing with odd items that caught her attention. Finally, she stopped fidgeting and said, "Tell the Boss I've gone to get a quick bite, will ya, Queen C?"

Cordy rolled her eyes. "You might wanna put some clothes on first," she suggested sarcastically.

Faith looked at her outfit and cocked a half-assed grin. "Somethin' wrong with my duds, Miss Chase?"

"Like, d'uh? The 'sporty' look is so out. Unless..."

"Unless what?"

"Well, unless you want to look like a dyke." Cordy’s voice dropped an octave and she gave Faith a look that plainly said that "look" was fashion suicide.

Faith's grin grew bigger as she walked up to Cordelia, leaned over and put her hands on the arms of the receptionist's chair. She caught and held Cordy’s eyes, then smirked. "I don't particularly have trouble with that image, Miss Chase," she said, then brought her mouth close to Cordy's ear and whispered, "Do you?" The slayer then stood up and winked at the dumbstruck girl. "Can I get you anything, sweet cheeks?"

Cordy just stared at her, open-mouthed.

"Better close that before you catch a fly," Faith warned.

The receptionist's jaw snapped shut with an audible click.

"Welp, I'm gone. See ya 'round, sweet cheeks." The door opened and closed and Faith was, as she said, gone.

Cordy sat for just two heartbeats before pounding her fists on the desk. "Faith!" she screamed, bringing Wes and Angel running. "I'm gonna get you so bad!"

The men just shook their heads, knowing that their slayer had pulled another fast one on Cordelia Chase.

***

Willow woke up in a fuzzy haze of warmth. She stretched, then scrubbed out her eyes. Reaching out to snuggle up to her bedmate, she met empty space. "Tara?" she said softly, patting the bed. The sheets were still warm, holding a slight depression where a body had recently lain. Willow blinked through the haze of sunlight that streamed into the room and looked around, finally noticing Tara standing by her dresser, about to put something in her mouth.

"Hey lady," Willow called out, slipping out of bed and padding up behind the blonde wiccan. "Whatcha doin?" She peeked over Tara's shoulder and caught sight of an empty pill bottle.

"No-nothing!" Tara blurted, dropping two large white pills onto the floor in surprise.

Willow bent over to retrieve them, then stood and took the empty bottle from Tara's hand. "What's this?" she asked, reading the prescription information. "Oh, I know what these are."

"Y-you do?" Tara stammered, blinking in surprise.

Willow shrugged and grinned goofily. "Yep. They're sugar pills. Placebos. Fakes. I read all about them in this file that I never told you I read..." she trailed off as Tara cocked her head and gave her a strange look.

"File?" Tara asked nervously, wringing her hands and rocking back and forth on the balls of her feet. I gotta take my pills, Will. I love you, but I need those damn pills! she thought, adding verbally, "Wha-what file?" Tara could hardly think, the craving for the pills was so strong.

"File," Willow confirmed, then continued absently, "it was attached to another file, actually. About Adam. There was this link to a file and I followed it and it was about you - only I didn't know it was about you - and one of the bits of info on the file was about some medicine that Professor Walsh created and told you that you needed in order to survive and anyway, they’re just fakes... " Willow explained, gesturing wildly with the bottle of pills.

Tara fainted.

***

Faith walked along the sidewalk, skirting the edges of the shadows cast by the buildings on Angel’s street. Her head was down, her shoulders were slumped and whatever swagger there was left wasn’t enough to be mistaken for anything other than weariness. Waves of heat shimmered above the ground, and soon Faith was coated in a light sheen of sweat. The cooler shadows seemed to cringe away from the disconsolate slayer as she blankly put one foot in front of the other. Her earlier joviality died away as her former Watcher’s face haunted her mind’s eye.

What am I doing, anyway? she thought as she dodged out of the way of someone who was in much more of hurry to meet his destiny that she was. I should be running, hiding, dying -- anything but this endless hurting! The taint of evil on Faith's soul ate through her like acid, burning into her every thought, flavoring her every action. Once, she had welcomed that evil, used it and allowed it to use her. When the darkness was upon her, there was no pain, no guilt over her actions, only the sickly-sweet tingle of power that hummed in her veins. She could hurt and kill and maim without consequence. Now, now all she could see was an endless stain of blood on her hands, a stain that would never diminish, no matter what she did to scrub it away.

Faith hated herself. She hated what she had done to her life, to her friends, and most especially, to Buffy Summers. B...she thought, coming to a stop and crouching against a wall. She cradled her head on her fists, lost in her thoughts. I fucked up so badly with you. I-I wanted to be so like you, wanted to have everything you did...wanted you. But I couldn't hack being you; I couldn't take the goodie-goodie responsibility shit and look where it got me? Sugar Papa Wilkins, that's where. Oh B, he screwed me up so bad...not that I wasn't pretty screwed before, but he made it worse. He made it okay to kill, B, and I let him. Faith covered her eyes with her hands as images from the past assaulted her mind.

That night. . . Patrol, running, ducking behind a building with Buffy, panting, fear, a sound, she spins, what's that? Grabbing and staking without looking. The warm, squelching rush of blood. A dark exultation that erupted when she looked down to see her stake buried in the still-beating heart of the Mayor's aide. Fear and guilt rising like bile, only to be shoved aside by cold practicality as the dark side of her soul took over and owned her. . .

Was her life ever her own? Was she ever more than just a toy, a plaything allowed to linger for amusement’s sake, then discarded when unwanted? Her mother certainly had tossed her aside quickly enough. I am nothing, she thought, as hot tears scalded her cheeks.

Faith's slayer-senses screamed at her as a new, darker shadow fell over her. "Are you all right, young lady?" a gentle voice asked. The slayer looked up and shaded her eyes. A woman leaned over the slayer, concern lining her age-withered face.

"Yeah, I'm good. Five by five," Faith croaked, standing up and brushing off her bottom.

"Are you sure, hon? Because you don’t look so well," the older woman said, reaching out a steadying hand to the slayer as she swayed on her feet.

"Yeah, I think I'm just a little tired, that's all," Faith mumbled.

"Do you live around here?"

Faith nodded, "Yeah, up there," she pointed toward Angel's business.

"Oh, good. I've met Mr. Angel; he seems like a nice fellow. Why don't you go on home and take a nap. A young thing like you should take good care of herself," the old woman said, patting her on the arm. The slayer's nose twitched. The old woman smelled heavily of lavender.

"Yeah, I guess so," Faith said, noncommittally.

"I know so, young lady. Now go on home and tell Mr. Angel that Gran Murphy said hello," the woman said, then turned around to walk away. She stopped, and looked back at Faith, who was still staring off in the distance. "Go on, young one, home's the best place to rest, you know."

Faith nodded blankly, muttering, "Yeah, home," and started walking back toward Angel Investigations.

"Tsk. Tsk. I can tell there's gonna be a lotta work to do on that one," the old woman said to no one in particular. She pushed up her sleeves and added, "Guess I'd better get to work," and disappeared in a chromatic burst of light.

***

Willow knelt over Tara, shaking her gently. "Tara, hon, wake up."

Tara groaned, then blinked her eyes open to see Willow's concern-filled face. "Will... what's with the scared-face?" she asked, trying to sit up.

"Whoa there Sparky," Willow said, grabbing hold of Tara's shoulders, "you just passed out. Take it easy, okay?"

Tara swayed dizzily. "Yeah, I see what you mean. Sorry. Did-did you say something about a file?" she asked as memory trickled back.

Willow grinned. "I'll answer only if you promise that you won't pass out on me again."

"Um, I can do that, I think."

"Then yes, I said something about a file. Your file, to be precise. Or at least, Professor Walsh's file about you, Walsh, T," Willow said, trying to recall all the details. "Something about you dying of leukemia in the 80's, then her using her big bad Wiccaness to blend a vampire's essence with yours?"

Tara nodded, rubbed her forehead and said, "Yeah, that's pretty much how it was. Only I… I don't remember to much about that time."

"I know. Your mother was very thorough in her note keeping," Willow said softly, putting a hand on Tara’s knee. "Anyway, one of the lovely little facts she recorded was the formula for that pill you were about to take," Willow said, shrugging a little.

"My pills!" Tara suddenly blurted, struggling to stand. "Wait, formula? You can make me more?" she asked eagerly, gripping Willow’s arms painfully.

"Sure, but, ah, I don't really need to. It's a sugar pill," the hacker explained, willing Tara to stay calm.

"Sugar pill?" Tara’s brow furrowed in confusion. "Why would she prescribe me a sugar pill?"

"I think it was about control, mainly hers over you," Willow's voice took on a hard edge and her eyes narrowed. "I've got to say that I really liked Professor Walsh as a teacher, but as a mom she sucked."

Tara shrugged and hung her head. "I kinda stopped thinking about her as my mom when I… died." Willow slipped her hand into Tara's and twined their fingers together. "I don't think about it much, anymore. I mean, I had Gran, and she was wonderful," Tara mumbled sadly.

"Did she know..."

"What Mother had done to me? Yes. She was, she taught me how to meditate. The uh, first implants, didn't work as well as Mother had hoped they would. I was, um, really angry, I guess, at her and uh, Gran taught me how to control that anger."

"Wow, that's great," Willow said, pulling Tara into her arms and holding her. The blonde wiccan rested her head against Willow’s chest, lulled by the soft heartbeat that thrummed against her ear.

"So, um, sugar pill?" Tara asked in a small voice.

"Uh huh. Oh!" Willow nearly shouted, "I know... I wonder if Giles still has that disk Adam left. I bet the formula is on it!"

Tara shrugged and looked up at Willow’s face. "Maybe. I-I guess I could try not taking the pills today and see what happens. They're supposed to-to keep me from craving bl-blood," Tara said, and swallowed hard.

"Blood makes you squicky?" Willow guessed.

The wiccan nodded. "Uh huh...I get all shaky and stuff. But it also makes me, um, weird. Hungry, but not."

"Speaking of, did you wanna get a bite to eat?" Willow tipped her head down and brushed her lips over Tara's cheek.

"Mm, I'd like that," Tara replied, turning her face up to kiss Willow softly. The girls kissed several times, until Tara was forced to draw back, breathless. "I can't get used to that," she said, smiling, and nuzzling the hacker’s chest softly.

"Me either. I think I wanted to do that for so long that when I do I think I'm still just wishing I could do it."

Tara twisted around until she was able to wrap her arms around Willow then leaned up and kissed her over and over until they both toppled over. Willow rested her head on Tara’s chest, surprised to hear a faint heartbeat. Curious, she placed her fingers up on the wiccan’s carotid artery and counted. Slowly, faintly, a weak pulse skidded against her fingertips. "Wow," she said, looking up into Tara’s scared face, "That’s so neat." She leaned up and kissed the girl beneath her again, then pulled away and murmured, "I like kissing you, Tara," and got comfortable on her "cushion".

"Me too," Tara said exhaling a long held breath and running her fingers through Willow's hair. "I-I’m glad you’re not freaked," she said a little while later.

"Why would I be freaked?" Willow asked, closing her eyes and nearly purring at the delicious feel of her girlfriend’s fingers in her hair.

"I’m not exactly the walking dead, but…" Tara bit her lower lip and inhaled, "but I’m not exactly alive, either."

"I know, and I don’t care about that, I like you anyway," Willow said casually.

Tara swallowed back a lump, and opened her mouth to reply, but a knock on the door sent both girls scrambling to get up and get "presentable". Tara walked over and said, "Wh-who is it?"

"Maintenance. I heard something about a broken window in this room?" a gruff male voice said.

"Oh! Yeah!" Tara said, opening the door to let in one of the university's many janitors. "O-over there," she nodded toward the window that Harmony had broken. Had it only been yesterday? So much had happened in so little time. She wandered back over to stand next to Willow, who was busily trying to look as though she had not spent the night. Not that the janitor cared -- he had already measured the window size and was knocking out the rest of the glass.

"This'll take a while to do," he grunted. "But I'll have it fixed by tonight. Know who done it?"

"N-no," Tara stuttered, nervousness creeping into her voice. "I-I was out studying late a-and came home and f-found a ro-rock," she pointed at the rock that sat on her overstuffed chair. "I cleaned up the best I could and t-told my RA."

"Mm," he grunted noncommittally as he moved about.

"Maybe we should see about that breakfast now," Willow suggested quietly, taking Tara's hand in hers and rubbing her thumb over the wiccan's skin.

"O-okay," Tara nodded. They gathered their clothes and left the janitor to work.

"Kids," he said in an affectionately gruff manner. The air around the man shimmered briefly and when it settled, an old woman was standing in Tara's room. "Don't know who did it, eh? I suppose you can be forgiven for that one, m'girl," the woman said as she raised her arms and chanted a guttural string of syllables. Minutes later, the broken window had been replaced and the "janitor" exited the room, leaving a whiff of lavender behind her.

***

Faith walked back into the office and right into the middle of a heated argument.

"I'm not her keeper, I don't know and I don't care where she's gone!" Cordelia was shouting at Angel.

"Cordy, no one is saying..." Angel tried to keep his voice soft.

"I warned you that you couldn't trust her," Wesley interjected.

Faith leaned against the door and watched the words start flying for a moment before guilt motivated her to speak. "I can see I was missed," she drawled.

All three spun to face her. Cordy was the first to attack. "You! Run off like that! Leave me to explain! Why, grrrr!" she shook her finger at the slayer. "Do you deliberately set out to make my day difficult, Faith, or does it just come naturally?" she finally settled on saying.

"I think it's a gift, C," Faith said, smirking.

"Faith, you should have let me know where you were going," Angel remonstrated.

"What, am I your child now, V-boy?" the slayer snapped.

"You certainly behave like one," Wes said snidely.

Faith looked away and said, "I get that you hate me Wes. Why don't you just kill me and be happy in your vengeance?"

Angel shot Wes a hard look and the former watcher had the grace to look abashed. "Faith," he started to say, "I don't exactly hate you, I just can't trust you. Can you accept that?"

"Yeah, you got issues. I got issues. Angel's got issues, we all got fucking issues!" Faith yelled, waving her hands around dramatically. She pushed herself off from the door and said, "Maybe I should just go. Angel, some old biddy named Gran said to tell you hey. I'm gone."

"Faith!" Angel called out at the same time as Cordelia grabbed her head and screamed.

"Cordy!" Faith shouted, leaping between Wes and Angel, over the desk and landing just in time to catch the receptionist before she hit the ground. Slowly, she lifted the vision-struck girl into her arms and carried her onto the elevator that led to Angel's apartment. Cordy stayed unconscious for the whole journey and was still out cold when Faith reached her destination -- the overstuffed chair that sat in front of Angel's ancient television. Sitting down and cradling the thrashing seer against her chest, Faith waited out the vision.

This one was intense, as far as visions go, Cordy noted as the images attacked her brain. Not only were there sights, but smells and sounds to go with the bleak pictures that she was privy to. Slowly, they lessened in frequency and power, until she was able to wake up. The first thing she noticed was a spicy, cinnamon-like scent that surrounded her. The second was the incredibly soft, yet strong arms that held her. Hairless, too. She peeled open an eye. The chest she could see was curved and very cushiony, not at all like the muscled rock that Angel insisted was good for leaning on, nor the still-bruised slab of meat that Wes guarded against all contact. She almost snuggled up against it, yearning for the softness but if she wasn’t being held by Angel or Wesley, that left...

"Faith?" Cordelia whispered, then winced as the after-vision headache hit.

"Shh, I got you," Faith said softly, bringing her hand up to gently massage the receptionist's skull.

"That's supposed to be a comfort?" Cordy asked, pushing away from Faith.

Faith let her go, looking away to hide a flash of pain in her eyes. "Sorry, I was just trying to help. Next time I'll let you hit the damn floor."

Angel helped Cordy to stand as the receptionist relayed the content of the vision. "It was Buffy and the old gang...they were all laying on these tables, under white sheets, kinda like they were dead. Well, I guess they were dead 'cuz their faces were all gray and stuff. Anyway, there was this awful smell, like in an alley just after the bars close?" When everyone nodded, she went on, "The last thing I remember seeing was this really nasty demon's arm move the sheet that covered Buffy down and pick up one of those doctor's knife-thingys..."

"A scalpel," Faith supplied distantly.

"A scalpel, and start to cut into Buffy's neck with it. She didn't bleed much," Cordy finished up. "Anyway, I think that message is clear: Buffy’s in trouble, run, run and go save her!" the receptionist made shooing motions with her hands.

"I had a feeling something like this was going to happen," Angel said, looking at each of his employees. "All right, here's what we're going to do. Wes, you'll stay here and mind the store..."

Wesley looked as though he was about to say something, then nodded.

"Cordelia, I hate to do this to you..." Angel started to say.

"Oh no! You are not making me go back to that backwater excuse for a town!" Cordelia crossed her arms and turned away from the group in a huff.

"Please?" Angel used his biggest gun first. Cordy's shoulders twitched. "What if you have another vision and you can't contact us in time?" The receptionist sighed heavily, bowing her head in defeat. She turned around and glared at Angel.

"All right, but you're going to put me up in a really good hotel. I am not shacking up with the Scoobies!"

"I know just the place for you," Angel said.

"I'm going," Faith declared, daring Angel to nay-say her.

"Faith -- are you sure? It won't be easy on you or Buffy," Angel pointed out.

Faith focused on a small dot on the wall. "I know. But, if B's in trouble, then I gotta go." She tucked her hands into her back pockets and looked into Angel's eyes. "I gotta get with the making amends part of this little program." Angel nodded, accepting Faith's decision.

"We leave tomorrow. Go home and pack, Cordelia."

"One thing -- I am not sharing a room with psycho slayer over there," Cordy said, looking at Faith with narrowed eyes. "I don't want to be an easy target."

Faith's face went blank. "I'll find a place myself, you won’t have to worry about me," she said, and went upstairs. No one noticed the tears that threatened to spill down the girl’s cheeks.

***

While eating, Tara brought up the idea of getting a cat. "I’ve always wanted a pet," she finished, "but Gran was allergic and Mother didn’t like animals."

"Well then, a cat we shall get because you shouldn’t have to miss out on all the catty goodness of pet-ownership. And by that I mean being owned by your pet, because pets, especially cats, are very possessive." The hacker smiled and twined her fingers with Tara’s.

Afterwards, they walked around, window shopping until Tara suggested that they check the animal shelter for a cat. Willow agreed and soon, they were on the bike and headed out to the county shelter.

The first thing that hit her when she walked into the animal shelter was the fear. Tara wound her fingers into Willow's hand and squeezed. Her skin vibrated with sympathy each time she heard an animal cry out.

"Tara, are you all right?" Willow asked, gravitating toward the visibly stricken young woman and sliding her arm around her waist.

Tara settled her arm around Willow's shoulder and buried her face in the redhead's soft hair for a long moment. The hacker waited, allowing Tara to calm down. "Sorry," the wiccan said, a few minutes later. "It's just that there's so much pain and death and fear here. I can feel it."

"Oh, well, heck Tara, we should have just gone to a pet store."

"No. No, I want to rescue an animal, not overpay for someone's kittymill product," Tara stated through gritted teeth.

Willow blinked. She had no idea that her girlfriend was so passionate about animals. "Okay, I have no problem with that. So, what kind of kitty shall we get?"

Tara smiled and stroked Willow's cheek with the back of her hand. "We'll know when we see it."

Willow captured Tara's hand and brushed her lips over the fingertips. "I'm cool with that."

"Ahem," a voice interrupted. "Can I help you ladies?" The girls jumped and spun to see who had spoken. An older man stood behind him, grinning from ear to ear.

"Ah, um, I-we'd like to look at your cats," Tara stammered.

"Right this way," he said, turning and walking toward a door. They were led into a separate area filled with cages. Some of the cages were empty, but many of them had occupants that ranged from hairball to rug in size. The one that both young women stopped at though held a full-grown ginger-furred male. He was huge, but he seemed quite able to cram his bulk into a very small area.

The cat's fur was short, which was a plus and it was beautifully striped. The darkest part of his hair was exactly the same color as Willow's in bright sunlight and the lightest, the color of Tara's. He was perfect. His name, oddly enough, was Spaz.

"He doesn't look very Spaz-like to me," Willow said as she stroked the cat's nose through the wire mesh of the cage. Spaz's eyes crossed as he purred and rubbed his head against the cage. The entire row of cages vibrated with his actions. Tara smiled and stroked the other side of his face.

"No, but he feels really good," she gave Willow a look that meant more than her words did.

The hacker leaned against her girlfriend and whispered, "Familiar material?"

Tara cocked her head as she and the cat had a stare-down. "I don't know," she whispered back. "There's something...about him that's...special."

"Hmm, yeah, he's soft and cuddly?" Willow said as Spaz rolled over onto his back and gave them both goo-goo eyes.

"Kinda like you," Tara said, bumping her hip against Willow's. The hacker blushed a deep crimson and looked away, smiling goofily. Tara nodded over at the clerk who ambled over and unlocked the cage door.

"Ah, now this 'un here's been neutered and has all 'is shots. Came in thata way. Glad to see 'im get a home, not many would take a full grown one." He hefted out Spaz, who turned into jello in the man's hands, and handed the ball of orange fur over to Willow. "Would you be wanting a box for 'im?"

"Uh, yeah, that'd probably be a good idea," Willow said while trying to juggle the still complacent animal. Spaz put his head down on Willow's shoulder and sighed, then began to purr so loudly that the hacker's head vibrated.

They walked over to a counter, where Willow gratefully lowered Spaz down. The cat immediately curled up into an orange puddle and blinked sleepily at Tara. The wiccan smiled and began rubbing his ears. The clerk reached down under the counter and brought up a white box with holes in the top.

"Okay, in ya go, Spaz, old boy," he said, lifting the cat up. For a moment, it looked as if Spaz was going to protest being forced into the box, but then he just folded his ears down and let out a little, "mrow" of resignation and settled into the container.

Tara paid the clerk for the cat and the two wiccans left the store. Once outside, Tara pulled a couple of bungee cords out of her saddlebags.

"Okay, this is going to be interesting, but if you’ll just be patient with us Spaz, I’m sure you’ll learn to enjoy this," she whispered to the cat, whose only answer was a loud purr. Carefully, Tara strapped the box in place on the rear rack of the bike, tugging on it a couple of times to make sure it was stable. When she was satisfied, she got on and motioned for Willow to do the same. Once Willow was settled, she started the bike and listened. When she didn’t hear any horrible cries, she took off slowly.

Spaz never meeped once. The entire journey took maybe fifteen minutes and by the time they had returned to the university, he was asleep. Tara parked the bike in her spot and the two girls unstrapped the box then nonchalantly headed back toward the wiccan’s room. Halfway there, they ran into Lauren Bishop, Tara’s Resident Advisor.

"Tara," the older girl cooed, "how lovely to see you. And this must be Rosebush. Are you two out on a study date, or can a girl tag along?" The vapid blonde laced her arm through Tara’s and started walking with them.

"Ah, w-well, w-we were g-gonna s-study for a while, b-but I had to do so-some shopping first," Tara stuttered out, dropping her eyes and looking away from the overbearing RA.

Willow was so peeved at the woman’s interruption of her day that she almost zapped her, but instead, she pasted a blank smile on her face and allowed the blonde to drag them along, babbling about some kind of party that they just had to attend.

"All the upperclassmen will be there. You might meet someone and get swept off your feet!" she chattered on, all the while clutching Tara to her possessively. "Anyway, you should let me help you pick out your clothes, Tara. I’m sure I could make you look hot."

They stopped at the doors to Tara’s dorm and Willow let go of Tara’s hand. "Hey Tara, I forgot something in my room, I’ll be right back." Then she leaned in and soundly kissed her girlfriend, then walked away, unsuccessfully hiding a smirk that crept over her face as Lauren gasped.

Tara smiled foolishly for a bit, then looked at Lauren. "I probably w-won’t be going to that p-party, Lauren. B-but thanks any-anyway."

Lauren stroked Tara’s arm lightly before letting it go. "I wish I would have known that your door opened in that direction, Tara dear. I would have knocked a long time ago. Oh well, spilled milk and all that. Gotta go," the RA batted her eyelashes and flounced off.

***

After running a few errands, Willow left for Tara’s room an hour later. Spaz had been comfortably settled on his pillow and Tara was curled up on her bed, busily studying for her ancient history class. She felt a little jittery, somewhat dizzy and nauseated, but figured that the eggs she had eaten weren’t sitting well. The wiccan shifted her position and was about to dive back into her books when she heard the light knock made her heart spasm painfully.

She got up and opened her door. Willow stood outside, laden with packages.

"Hey," the hacker said, depositing a large bag in Tara’s arms, then leaning in to kiss her on the cheek, "I brought stuff."

"Cool," Tara said, closing the door behind the hacker.

"Oh, Giles called and left a message. Buffy’s doing great, resting up and being pampered by Riley. He said we could go visit later."

"Okay, maybe before we go have dinner?" Tara suggested as she settled the bag on the bed.

"Is that an offer for a date, Tara Walsh?" Willow asked as she reached into one of the bags and withdrew a packaged cat toy. It was a catnip mouse. The hacker ripped open the plastic and tossed the toy over to Spaz, who moved maybe an inch to sniff it, then rolled over onto his back and stretched, managing to somehow double his size in the process.

"Guess he’s not a mouser," Tara commented as Willow frowned. The wiccan peeked into the bag and raised an eyebrow. "Willow, did you buy out the store?"

"Hey! No peeking!" Willow said, laughing. "I wanted to get some things, that’s all." She pulled out a food and water dish, a collar, some more toys and a bag of food. "I, ah, didn’t know if you wanted a litter box though."

"No, I’ll leave my window open for him. I think a litter box’d be way too obvious. Thank you though," Tara replied, getting up and setting out the bowl. She poured in some food, which caused Spaz to show the most activity he ever had as he practically twisted himself in two getting up and lumbering over to the dish to investigate the contents. The girls laughed over his antics and he flicked his tail at them, then sat down, showing them a clear view of his broad backside.

"I believe we’ve offended him," Willow said, still giggling.

"I guess so," Tara agreed. "I’m gonna get some water, be right back." She grabbed a glass and ducked outside to head over to the bathroom. Willow quickly retrieved one specific item from a bag. When Tara came back, Willow was busily cleaning up the trash from kitty toy packaging. The wiccan gave Spaz some water, then set the half-full glass down on her dresser and turned to watch Willow clean.

Willow had gathered up the last scrap of trash from the cat toys and was reaching for some of the balled up bits of paper when she found the forgotten bottle of placebos. She picked them up and said, "Would you like me to take care of these?"

Tara felt a wave rush over her. Intense longing plucked at her bones, making her take half a step forward before she forced herself to stop and nod. "I-if what you say is true, then I don’t need them. I-I’d rather not be dependent on anything like that anymore."

Willow smiled. "I’m here, if you need me Tara," she said as she tossed the bottle into the bag. A small sound of grief or frustration, Willow wasn’t sure which, escaped from her girlfriend and suddenly she was clutching one very upset wiccan.

Tara was shaking, near to tears and the nausea that had been building all day threatened to overwhelm her. "H-hold me," she stammered, pulling Willow down to the bed with her.

"Always," Willow said, drawing Tara close and murmuring nonsense sounds at her. They rocked as Tara fought a craving that felt like a lion had erupted whole from her belly and brain and was threatening to shred whatever was left of her body.

"I-it’s the p-pills," Tara chattered, as chills wracked her body. "Goddess, I want one so bad!" the wiccan growled, curling her hands into fists and pounding the bed.

"But you shouldn’t need them, Tara. I saw the formula. There’s nothing addictive in them."

"A-are you saying th-this is all in m-my head?" Tara yelled, tearing herself away from Willow. The wiccan stood up and began to pace, stopping by the newly replaced window to look out. She ran a shaking hand through her hair and swayed on her feet.

"Of course not! I don’t know, maybe?" Willow replied, sitting up as well. She walked over to Tara and tentatively reached out a hand to rub the wiccan’s back. Tara pulled away jerkily.

"Don’t…" she whispered.

Fear clutched at Willow’s stomach. She doesn’t want me, she thought, eyes starting to burn. "Tara, did I do something…" The blonde wiccan turned her head slightly and Willow bit back a gasp. Tara’s lips were tinged a pale blue. She touched Tara’s face, growing worried when she found that the skin was clammy.

"What is wrong with me, Willow?" Tara whispered pleadingly.

"I don’t know, love," Willow replied, stepping close enough to examine the wiccan. Something was definitely wrong, but Willow couldn’t quite figure out what. The hacker picked up the trash bag and dug out the bottle containing the last two pills and looked it over. She smelled it, even tasted the pill dust that lined the inside of the bottle. A sweet taste, plus something else, something that she couldn’t quite put her finger on. She looked down at the pills in her hand and was seized by an overwhelming urge to take one.

Painfully, she tore her eyes away from the pills to look at Tara. The wiccan had curled up on the bed and was rocking back and forth slightly. Her eyes were screwed shut, but something, a smell, a half-remembered sound, caused her to open her eyes and she saw the pills in Willow’s hand.

Craving overcame the wiccan and she growled, sitting up and breathing heavily. "Willow," she rasped as her face morphed, "you should go." The wiccan stood up and took a half step toward the hacker.

Willow stepped back and returned the pills to the bottle, sealing it shut. "No. I will not abandon you. I’m not afraid."

Tara gritted her teeth, pricking her skin on her fangs. A tiny droplet of blood welled up in the corner of her mouth and she licked it away. It tasted so good. So very, wonderfully good. "Willow, I-I don’t know if I can control…"

"Shh," Willow stepped up to Tara and placed a finger over her lips. "I trust you." She replaced her finger with her lips, kissing the wiccan passionately. Tara moaned and crushed Willow to her, returning the kiss with fervor.

The pill bottle fell away, forgotten as Willow’s hands roamed over Tara’s face, shoulders and back. Tara slid her hands up under Willow’s shirt and cupped the hacker’s small breasts, feeling the nipples pebble instantly under her touch.

"Oh yeah," Willow whispered raggedly through her kisses. "Like that," she said, moaning as Tara traced a path of desire across the hacker’s face with her mouth, kissing, licking and nibbling. Tara’s touch grew more sure, more aggressive as Willow returned the caress touch for touch. The wiccan reached Willow’s throat, stopping there to nuzzle the hacker’s soft skin.

"So beautiful," she whispered, darting her tongue out to taste the salty sweet flesh. "So precious. So… alive," she finished, nipping slightly and feeling Willow’s pulse jump in response.

The lion awoke and she bit down, hard, breaking skin. A rush of warm, salty blood filled her mouth and she drank, then tore herself away with a scream of primal terror.

Willow rocked in place, so caught up in the heat of the moment that she hadn’t realized what was happening. Tara flung herself toward her closet and clawed the door open. Inside was a sword that she pulled out and unsheathed. Willow shook her head and reached her hand up to rub her neck and was only a little surprised when her fingers came away slightly bloody. A cocky smile of satisfaction wandered across her face. Guess now I know that she can turn me on… the hacker thought absently.

Suddenly reason returned and she blurted, "Tara!" and spun around.

The wiccan was attempting to brace the hilt of the blade on the floor. Willow nearly leaped over the bed to grab the weapon. "No!" she yelled, not caring who heard her. "I won’t let you do this, Tara. This isn’t you!"

"But I hurt you! I almost killed you!"

"No, you didn’t," Willow said, voice gentle now as she took the sword and tossed it aside. The blade fell to the floor with a solid thunk. "Look," she pulled her shirt aside to reveal a small mark, not much more than a pin prick.

"But I… tasted… blood?" Tara whimpered.

Willow reached up and touched Tara’s face, brushing fingers over kiss-bruised lips. "You bit yourself," she said, pulling the young woman’s bottom lip down to finger the punctured skin.

Tara pulled away, turning to face the window. "But I still bit you."

"And I liked it. A lot," Willow said softly, stepping up to Tara and wrapping her arms around the wiccan’s waist. She rested her chin on the wiccan’s shoulder and said, "I think you might be experiencing some kind of withdrawal symptoms, Tara. That, and I think those pills might have been um, poisoned or something. We’ll know more when we take them to Giles’ place later and analyze them."

Tara turned and buried her head in Willow’s neck, hot tears spilling as sobs wracked her body. "I’m sorry. I’m so sorry that I ever allowed myself to get involved with you," she cried.

Willow held her close and kissed the top of her head. "I’m not," she said. And I will never be sorry that I fell in love with you, she thought.

***

Willie’s Bar was slowsville in the afternoon, but it was a great place for a de-fanged vamp like Spike to hang out till the sun went down. Besides, Willie could be bullied into feeding him free beer and blood. Especially since Spike had been so instrumental in stopping a fight between two Pyros demons. But it was dead boring and the vamp had long since grown tired of listening to the barkeeper whine about how no one ever gave him a fair shake.

Finally, he’d had enough. "I’m out of here," he said, "I’ve have just about as much of your nancy boy crybaby pity me stories for today."

"But, it’s still daylight out, Spike," Willie said, shifting from foot to foot. It wasn’t that he liked the vampire, but heck, business was business and Spike had always been a good customer. Besides, he didn’t beat him up as often as the others did.

"I’ll be sure to wear sunscreen," Spike quipped as he lifted his jacket up over his head.

"Perhaps I can provide you with some." A new voice, hollow and cold said. Spike and Willie looked. Over at the door stood a huge… thing. Part demon, part man, part machine and all ugly.

"Well, you must be Sunnydale’s latest and greatest. I’d say I was pleased to meet you, but the fact is, I couldn’t care less," Spike said, then turned away from Adam.

A hand on his shoulder stopped him. "I can give you what you most desire," Adam offered.

Spike cocked an eyebrow and tilted his head up. "Oh, and all I have to do is take you to the Slayer?"

"No. I can find her any time I choose. I offer you the chance to walk in sunlight without fear."

Spike shrugged his shoulders, laying his leather trench coat down. "I’m listening," he said, pulling up a bar stool.

"First, I need something from you…"

***

Faith rode in back. It was never even a question, as far as she was concerned. As soon as night fell, Angel loaded up his car and Faith hopped into the back seat so that Cordy could have the front. Of course, she didn’t know that Cordelia wanted to sleep through the journey. How could she have guessed that the receptionist got carsick? So here they were, stopped by the side of the highway while Cordy delicately vomited the contents of her stomach. How one delicately does such an action, Faith could not guess, but there was no doubt that Cordy was a master of it. The dark-haired slayer paced up and down the road, feeling totally guilty and ashamed.

She had tried to apologize, but Cordelia had given her the "shut up, or you’re a target" look before dashing over to the grass embankment. So now, she hung her head in silence while Angel gently wiped Cordy’s mouth, then walked her back to the car.

"Okay Faith, we’re ready," he said quietly after Cordy had been settled into the back seat and covered with a blanket.

"Yeah, all right," Faith replied, subdued. Silently, she climbed into the passenger seat. Briefly, she looked back at Cordelia, who appeared to be even more miserable than before. "I am so sorry, C," she started to say, but the receptionist held up a hand to stop her.

"Don’t. Just, don’t. I can’t handle contrition from you right now, Faith."

The slayer nodded and turned around, fixing her eyes on the road ahead. Angel started the car up and they were soon breaking speed laws.

Cordy pulled the blanket up over her shoulders and tried to sleep. Her stomach was still roiling though, so she ended up staring up at passing stars. Strangely, they calmed her, allowing her to fall into a restless doze. Why am I such a bitch to her? she asked herself, flicking her eyes over to study the slayer’s profile as she blankly stared at the passing roadway. I mean, it’s not like she ever did anything to hurt me, right? Well, besides sleeping with Xander and I can’t really get upset about that ‘cuz we weren’t together anymore. Okay, and she messed with my friends, and she killed people and all that, but she’s not that person anymore. At least, I don’t think she is.

The receptionist rolled over until she was cuddled against the seat, snuggling into the warmth of the vinyl. A faint, lingering fragrance clung to the material. Cinnamon and something else - something that was uniquely Faith. It was a comforting scent, Cordelia decided, recalling the strength of the arms that had held her while she had been caught in a vision. She also remembered Faith’s touch, how the slayer’s fingertips had left sparkly trails of sensation over her skin.

Cordy touched her forehead where Faith had started to massage her, almost able to still feel the tenderness of the slayer’s caress. Anyone who would do that can’t be all bad, can they? she asked herself silently.

Gabrielle forgave Xena her dark side, came an answering response. Cordy nearly giggled aloud. Imagine, finding solace in the actions of TV characters! How strange could that be? Still . . . there was something . . . hopeful about the idea. Hopeful, and scary, because as anyone with eyes could see, Xena and Gabrielle were lovers and Cordelia Chase was not gay. Nope, no way, not her, not in a million, billion, trillion lifetimes. Just because she happened to notice that Faith had a great butt, and delicious abs and beautiful brown eyes and full, pouty lips that looked like they would be heavenly to kiss . . . Oh God, I’m gay, Cordy thought, groaning softly to herself and scrubbing her face with her hands.

Angel must have heard her because he called out, "You all right back there, Cordelia?"

"Oh, yeah, I’m just peachy. I just barfed my brains out, no worries," she snapped, wishing he would just ignore her.

"I am so sorry about that," Faith said again, weakly.

Cordy growled. Why does she do this? Why does she make me want to like her when I know I should hate her? "What ever," she said, sighing exasperatedly, then said, "I’m gonna try to take a nap. Can you turn on the radio or something? The silence is making me wiggy."

Faith leaned forward and clicked on the car’s stereo, which started to blast Wagner’s Rhinegold at top volume. With a quickness only a slayer could manage, Faith killed the music and looked up to see a sheepish Angel.

"Sorry. My bad." He nodded toward the glove compartment. "I think there’s some newer stuff in there. Doyle, um, left them."

Faith opened the glovebox and sure enough, there was 20^th century music. "The Bangles, GoGo’s or Hank Williams, Cordy?"

"Oh God, I’ve died and gone to the 80’s," Cordy groaned. "I guess the Bangles. At least I know some of those songs."

The slayer grinned and popped out Angel’s classical music tape, then slipped in the Bangles. "Manic Monday" blared forth and Faith fiddled with the volume until it was something approaching ear-splitting.

Angel winced and grimly set himself to ignoring the shrill voiced singers.

***

"You want me to do what?" Spike drawled, lighting a smoke and taking a deep draught of the beer that Adam ordered for him.

"I need you to get captured by the Initiative. I require an ‘inside man’ to control the others I have placed within the Initiative." Adam paced around his hideout, tapping on video monitors. Each one held a scene from the interior of the Initiative headquarters. "I will be watching them. No one will harm you. Maggie Walsh’s files tell me that they wished to use the Hostile Subterranean Vampire class in drug testing. You would be a valuable commodity to them."

"So I get to go inside and play the bloody guinea pig while you do what, exactly?"

"I will gather my army and lure the Slayer and her friends inside the compound, where the final battle shall take place. It will be glorious! When I am victorious, I will reap a fine harvest and my army will grow."

"Yeah, yeah, spare me the world conquering scenarios. I just want my bite back. If I do this for you, you’ll take this damn chip out? And make me immune to sunlight?" Spike leaned forward and ashed his cigarette on the floor.

"Scout’s honor," Adam said, holding his hand up in a parody of the Boy Scout promise sign.

"Bugger me!" Spike laughed. "You were a bloody boy scout?"

"It is one of my memories, yes."

"Un-bloody-believable. I’m working for a Boy Scout. All right, Mr. Be Prepared, I’ll do it. I’ll get myself back into the bunker. But you’d better be tellin’ the truth when you say you can give the chipectomy," the bleach blonde vamp said, dropping the sunblock option in favor of the one that was near and dear to his heart.

"I cannot lie," Adam said succinctly.

***

"Tara?" Willow shook the sleeping girl. They had both fallen asleep after lying down to snuggle.

"Hi," Tara said as she blinked open her eyes.

Willow brushed a stray strand of hair away from the wiccan’s face and replied, "Hi back. Feel better?"

Tara covered Willow’s hand with her own and brought it down to kiss the fingers gently. "Yes, I do." She smiled, then bit her bottom lip slightly and added, "Thank you, for staying with me. For not giving up." For loving me in spite of everything, Tara added silently.

Willow freed her hand and caressed Tara’s face. "No problem. Anytime you need me, I’m there." Tara leaned into Willow’s touch, smiling. It was the most natural thing in the world to kiss. Even more natural to become lost in their kisses. So it was understandable that when the phone rang, they both nearly leaped out of their skin.

Tara answered it, then wordlessly handed the phone to Willow.

"Hello?" Willow said as she stood up and began looking for her shoes.

"Will? You are one hard chick to track down." It was Buffy. "Anyway, are you going to come see me or are you otherwise, um, indisposed," she asked delicately.

Willow flushed a deep crimson. "No, no of course we’ll come see you. We were just napping."

"Ah-huh. Napping. Gotcha. Well, all right. I’m at Giles’ place."

"Wow, I thought you’d be in the hospital a little longer!" Willow finished putting on her shoes and straightening her clothes. Tara fed the cat and made the bed.

"Nah, you know how I feel about those places," Willow could almost hear Buffy shudder.

"Der Kindestod?" the hacker asked softly, remembering the gruesome monster that killed children who were ill.

"Among other things," the slayer replied. "Anyway, bring your woman over and we’ll do the talk thing. We haven’t done the talk thing in a while. Giles is making dinner for everyone."

"Giles is cooking? I’m there!"

Willow and Tara arrived at Giles’ place about fifteen minutes later. Buffy was lounging on the sofa, her arm cradled in her lap while Riley fed her grapes.

"Well you look positively decadent," Willow said by way of greeting.

Buffy smirked, then looked at Tara with a raised eyebrow. "You should try it some time Will, I’m sure you’d like it."

Tara flushed. Willow laughed. "Maybe. Hey Xander," she said holding her arms out to her friend.

"Willow!" Xander disengaged himself from Anya and came over to hug the hacker. "Tara," he nodded his head.

"Hi Xander," Tara replied shyly.

"Great, everyone has said hi, now we can move past this uncomfortable part and get to the part where everyone is having a good time," Anya said.

"I didn’t say hello yet," Giles called out from the kitchen where he was busily making something with chicken.

"Hi Giles," both girls said in unison.

"Much better! Hello’s to Willow and Tara. Glad you could make it," the watcher said, poking his head out and giving both young women a smile.

"Oh goodie!" Anya clapped her hands. "Now can we all talk like friends and stop acting like we haven’t ever met before?" Everyone laughed and nodded and Anya smiled, then looked at Tara. "So, what’s it like being a lesbian vampire?"

"Anya!" Giles, Buffy and Willow groaned. Xander found a convenient wall and bashed his head against it. Riley covered his mouth and coughed to hide laughter.

Tara wound her fingers into Willow’s and allowed a smirk to cross her lips before replying, "It doesn’t suck, if that’s what you want to know. But I’m not really a…"

Something binged and Buffy blurted, "Oh! That’s my cue!" She jumped up and raced into the kitchen, opened the microwave and removed a cup of something steamy. The slayer looked over at Tara and smiled, "I hope you like yours warm. I know Spike preferred his this way."

"…Vampire," Tara finished. "My what, warm?"

"Buffy…" Willow growled warningly.

Confusion flashed across Buffy’s face. "Um, Tara, this might be a really good time for me to ask you this… what do you um, eat?" She cradled the steaming cup gingerly.

"Pretty much whatever I’m hungry for. I tend to prefer iron rich foods, but otherwise, I eat normally," Tara explained.

"Oh Buffy," Willow covered her face with one hand. "You weren’t just going to offer my girlfriend a cup of warm blood were you?"

The slayer quickly dumped the contents of the cup down the sink. "No, no, of course not. Why ever would you ask that, Will?" she said with a nervous smile.

"We thought you drank blood like normal vampires do," Anya explained.

"Oh," Tara paled, imagining what had been in the cup.

Willow noticed her lover begin to sway and gripped her hand tighter. "Hey, it’s okay, right? I mean, heh, they were just trying to be nice, right?" she glared at Buffy.

Buffy nodded vigorously. "Nice, uh-huh. That’s us, the nice people."

Another bell toned. "Hey, is that the mighty klaxon of feeding time I hear?" Xander asked, trying to change the subject.

Giles opened the oven and pulled out a pan. Very wonderful smells began to fill the small apartment. Riley stood up and went to set the table. Anya vanished into the bathroom and reappeared just as everyone was sitting down to eat. Tara walked over to the table and pulled out a chair, then looked at Willow.

"Will… sit with me?" she asked, cocking her head sideways and smiling a little.

Willow slid into the seat that Tara offered while the rest of the gang smiled indulgently.

"Would you two either go have sex or knock it off? You’re making me nauseated with your goo-gooeyness," Anya complained as she flounced into the chair beside Xander.

"Sorry," Willow said absently as she slipped her hand under the table to squeeze Tara’s knee. The wiccan looked down and slid her leg over and wrapped it around Willow’s.

Buffy peeked, then raised an eyebrow. "Didn’t know you were such a pro at footsie, Tara. Swell job."

"Thanks," Tara mumbled, blushing hotly as Giles served dinner.

They ate, talking quietly about inconsequentials. Or rather, Giles, Buffy, Willow and Tara talked. Riley made small contributions but mostly just put his food away like a soldier in boot camp. Xander and Anya spent far too much time feeding each other to actually talk. When the last bite was consumed, Willow pushed her plate away and belched happily, causing the others to laugh.

"Giles," the hacker said, wiping her mouth, "do you still have that chemistry set? I need to check something for Tara." She quickly explained about the pills, showing the former watcher the bottle. Buffy looked too, before deciding that it wasn’t her thing. She and Riley got up and headed for the couch and more cuddling.

Xander and Anya found spots on the floor and turned on the TV. Giles pulled a chemistry kit out of a closet and they cleared off the table enough to begin testing the pills. Soft sounds of glass tinkling could be heard coming from the table as Giles and Willow subjected the pills to as much analysis as they could, given their limited tools. An hour later, Xander got up and made popcorn. Another half an hour later, Buffy’s light snores could be heard filtering through the TV shows that Xander and Anya were watching. Finally, Giles and Willow looked up from their experiments.

Giles pulled off his glasses and wiped his face. "Well, I hate to admit this, but I am completely flummoxed. There’s nothing here but sugar and gelatin."

"Maybe she’s addicted to jello," Anya suggested sarcastically.

Tara indelicately snarled something in Latin. Willow looked at her, then burst out laughing. Giles raised an eyebrow. The one remaining pill began to glow a deep bluish-purple, but no one seemed to notice.

"Honey, I don’t think that’s anatomically possible," Willow said, leaning over and brushing her lips over the side of Tara’s face.

"I don’t care," Tara grumbled, crossing her arms and glaring at the pills.

Xander looked up from the TV. "What’d she say?"

"Mom, you can take your pills and shove them up your…" Anya started to say.

Xander stopped her with a kiss. When they parted he said, "An, I think I can guess the rest. So," he drawled, "Tara’s all with the cursing in Latin. How come nothing burst into flames?"

"Because I didn’t tell it to?" Tara suggested archly, still peeved.

"Oh, okay." Xander turned to look at the TV again. "Well, I guess the glowing thing is normal then?" Xander pointed at the remaining pill.

"Glowing?" Giles said, reaching for the pill, which still held a slight phosphorescence. "Ah yes, I see what you mean. Well. This is certainly unexpected."

"M-may I see it?" Tara asked, suddenly shy. Giles wordlessly handed it to her. Tara closed her eyes and concentrated. Her hand began to glow an angry red.

"Tara?" Willow said softly, reaching for her girlfriend.

Tara’s eyes snapped open and she snarled, "That bitch!" Willow jumped back sharply; Tara’s normally dark blue eyes were crystal clear. "Do you know what she did?" she asked evenly, looking at Giles.

The watcher rubbed the back of his neck nervously. "Well, I can fathom a guess…"

"She enchanted these with a spell of Craving. The more of these I took, the more I wanted," Tara said, eyes still flashing.

"No, Professor Walsh wouldn’t have done that…" Riley said, standing up to walk over to the table.

"Are you saying that she’s lying?" Willow asked warningly, stepping up and staring determinedly into Riley’s eyes.

"It wouldn’t be the first time," he shot back.

Buffy woke up and whined, "What’s going on?" Xander and Anya had turned off the TV in favor of watching the little drama at the dinner table.

"That was different. She was scared," Willow said defensively.

"Or she was trying to insinuate herself into your group - just like she has - and is now trying to turn you against the Initiative," he retorted hotly, thrusting his chin out and gritting his teeth.

"I got news for you, soldier boy, I was already against the Initiative. I don’t need Tara to show me that it’s a bad thing," Willow said coldly.

"Whoa, what’s with all the harsh talk, Will?" Buffy asked, getting up and walking over to the table..

Willow turned to her and pointed a thumb at Riley. "Your toy seems to think that Tara’s a liar."

Applause from the front doorway made them all jump. Spike had let himself in and was just watching the group. He smiled when they all looked at him. "Beautiful. Just beautiful. I’ve got a little tear in me eye over the emoting, Red," the vamp said, reaching up to wipe mock tears from his face. When no one responded, he shrugged and said, "Well anyway, as much as I enjoy a good row, I suppose I should be getting on with business. I’m here to turn myself in."

"What?" The group blurted.

Spike held his hands out in front of him as if expecting to be handcuffed. "That’s right, I’ve decided to give up my life of evilness and turn myself over to the guiding light of the Initiative. Take me away, Studboy," he said, pursing his lips and batting his eyelashes at Riley.

"Spike, you’re not funny. Now go away," Buffy said, standing up and walking up to the vampire.

"Oh, you’re so scary with one wing down, Slayer," Spike drawled.

Buffy grabbed him by the throat and lifted him up with one arm. "Scary enough to take you one-handed, except, you wouldn’t be much of a challenge, being all limp-fanged and all that." She casually dropped him to the ground and turned her back on him. He growled and his face morphed, but when he tried to lash out at her, he screamed and grabbed his head.

"Bloody bitch!" he moaned. "I’m serious. Take me in! I’m all yours."

"Is this party invite only, or can anyone crash it?" a voice said from outside.

Buffy’s face went white and the rest of the Scoobies drew up to stand beside her. "Faith," she spat the word.

The other slayer stepped inside. "Hey B, how’s tricks?" she looked down at Spike. "Oo, now that’s the way I like my vamps… on their knees and begging for it." The dark slayer stepped over Spike, swaying her hips provocatively. Spike looked up at Faith and smirked. This could be fun to watch.

"Faith, I don’t know why you’re here, but since you are it will be my pleasure to kill you," Buffy growled, peeling off her sling.

"Don’t do me any favors," the other slayer said, lifting herself up onto the back of Giles’ couch and crossing her legs. "Besides, this is a social call."

"Giles, call the police," Buffy ordered.

"No, don’t," a new voice said. "She’s telling the truth." Angel stepped into the light. "May I come in?" he asked, tapping the air in the open doorway as if it were a shield.

"What? Oh, yes, yes, so long as you have good intent, be welcome here," Giles said wearily.

"Thanks Giles," The vampire said, walking in.

Cordelia Chase came in behind him, hugging her arms close to her body. "I’d forgotten how cold it gets up here," she said by way of greeting. "I hate it."

Faith pulled off her jacket and wordlessly offered it to Cordy, who looked at it longingly, then turned away. Angel shut the door.

"Angel…" Buffy whispered brokenly.

"Who is this guy?" Riley asked, looking Buffy’s ex over with an appraising eye.

Spike whistled. "You mean to tell me that you didn’t tell Studboy here all about your previous partners? Naughty, naughty Slayer. Haven’t you heard there’s a nasty little bug going around? Why, not being honest about your past can seriously hurt your current partner," the vamp said in mock-concerned tones.

"Previous partners?" Riley asked, looking at Buffy.

"We have a history," Angel started.

"Shut up, deadboy," Riley growled. He put his hands on his hips. "Well?"

"Not now, Riley. We’ll talk about it later," Buffy grated. She looked at Angel. "All right, talk. Why are you here?"

Angel half smiled and shrugged. "Would you believe me if I said we were just on a road trip? No? Didn’t think so. Well, to make a very long story very short, we came because Cordelia had a vision. We’re here to help."

"Faith is here to… help?" Buffy asked with raised eyebrows. "And when did you get laid, Angelus?" Pain darkened the vampire’s eyes, but he didn’t respond.

"It’s true, B. I-I’m working on making amends," Faith said softly, looking everywhere but at the blonde slayer.

"I believe her," Tara said, suddenly. Buffy spun to face the wiccan.

"Really? And you know her so well because?" The force of Buffy’s voice caused Tara to take a step back.

"I-I…" Tara babbled, looking everywhere but at Buffy, whose eyes nearly flashed with anger.

"Buffy," Willow said calmingly, stepping forward and putting a hand on the slayer’s arm, "Tara’s the one who realized that you weren’t you, remember? She’s pretty good at this knowing a person’s character thing."

"Thanks for the stand-up, Red," Faith said, throwing a grateful look in Willow’s direction.

Willow’s face hardened. "I didn’t do it for you, Faith," she said, then looked at Angel, "I did it for him."

"I got you, and Red…for what it’s worth, I’m sorry," Faith whispered. Words would never erase the pain she had caused the hacker, or her friends, but she had to try, she had to say the words as often as she could, just to put some scuff marks on the pile of evil she carried.

Buffy ground her teeth together, clearly not liking what she was seeing, but unable to deny the almost heartbreakingly haunted look in Faith’s eyes. The dark-haired slayer did not look like a woman bent on destruction, but rather appeared to be a person holding on by her last thread. Buffy paced a little. "All right," she finally said after several tense heartbeats, "I’ll accept that - for now."

"What about me?" Spike whined from his seat on the floor.

"I don’t care about you, Spike," Buffy said, barely giving the bleach blonde vampire a glance.

"I’ll take care of him," Riley said, his voice devoid of emotion. "Then we talk," he added, giving Buffy a hard look. The commando reached into his back pocket and pulled out a set of stripwire binders. Roughly, he bound Spike and hauled him away.

"Oh hurt me, big boy," Spike said, swishing his hips against Riley’s. The commando gave the vampire a hard shove forward and glared at him. Spike just laughed and kept walking.

"What ever do you see in that piece of beefstick, anyway, B?" Faith asked, watching as Riley and Spike left.

"Shut up, Faith," Buffy said, closing her eyes and rubbing her temples with her uninjured hand.

"That’s your new boyfriend?" Angel asked. Buffy nodded. "I don’t like him," he said with a smile.

"Good. Now what the hell are you doing here?" The blonde slayer pulled out a chair and sat down.

Angel sat on the stairwell and began telling them about Cordy’s vision.

***

"I can’t believe you offered to let Faith sleep on your floor!" Willow hissed at Tara as they walked out to the wiccan’s bike.

"Why not? She needs a place to stay and I have the room," Tara replied absently.

"But… what about us?" Willow asked, putting a hand on Tara’s arm.

Tara pulled away. "I don’t know," she answered. "I’m not safe for you, Willow. I could hurt you and it would kill me if I did."

Willow traced her fingers up Tara’s arm, then cupped the wiccan’s cheek. "I don’t believe that. I don’t think you’ll hurt me, Tara. I trust you," she bit her lip and looked down, then whispered, "I love you."

Tara swayed into Willow’s touch. "Oh Goddess, Willow…" she whispered, covering the hacker’s hand with her own. A tear slipped down her cheek. "I…"

"Shh… you don’t have to say anything," Willow said, tears choking her voice. "I-I probably shouldn’t have, either."

"No," Tara stepped into Willow’s personal space and pressed her forehead against the hacker’s. "I’m glad you did. I love you too. I’m just not… I’m scared that this is all going to go away, Willow." Their tears fell and mingled on the ground. "I don’t want to lose you."

"You won’t," Willow said softly.

I hope not, Tara thought, kissing the hacker briefly, then pulling away to put her helmet on.

***

"Are you sure you don’t want to stay here, Faith? I may not be a watcher anymore, but I will not turn a slayer out," Giles said to the dark-haired girl who stood in his doorway.

"Nah, I’m cool, Giles. I’m gonna go patrol since B is winged."

"All right, but if you change your mind, don’t hesitate to knock."

"Thanks, Giles. That means a lot to me," Faith said, then vanished into the darkness. Angel and Cordelia left next, so that the vampire could get Cordy a room at a local hotel. Buffy had left shortly after Willow and Tara, saying she wanted to go talk to Riley.

After finding that all the better class hotels were booked for the night, Angel took Cordy to the one other place he could think of: Chez Le Noir, a hotel for those who might not mingle so well with humans.

Of course there was a room available for Angel. Antoine, the manager of Chez Le Noir was a good friend. Cordelia was quiet for the entire trip, until they got on the elevator that went down instead of up.

"Angel, I don’t know if you noticed, but I’m not exactly the kind of girl that flourishes well in dank, dark places."

"I know that Cordelia, but there’s nothing else. Besides, it’s not so bad. Antoine occasionally has human guests. He’ll put you in the right place." The elevator stopped at S-4 and the doors opened. A richly appointed hallway greeted them. The walls were mahogany stained oak panels with brass fittings. Soft light glowed in faux oil lamps set in sconces every six feet or so along the walls.

"Wow," Cordy breathed, taking in the opulence. "This is almost as nice as that old bordello in New Orleans."

Angel smirked, then led her down the hall to a door. "Here you go. I’m over there," he nodded to the door just passed hers. "There’s a door between us, knock if you need anything."

"Yeah, you got it." Cordy took her keycard and slipped it into the reader. The door popped open with a soft thwok, and revealed a comfortable looking set of rooms. The receptionist floated in and smiled happily, in her element.

***

Faith scrabbled for finger and toe holds as she climbed the remaining few feet of wall to reach the balcony of her old loft apartment. It was still closed up, but she knew the window was easily jimmied. Once inside, she padded around, looking at all the things Mayor Wilkins had surrounded her with; the dresses, the luxurious furniture, the Playstation, it was all there, untouched. A layer of dust covered everything. She even found faint bloodstains that marked where Buffy had stabbed her. The slayer’s fingers brushed her side as her flesh spasmed in remembered pain. On the mantle were all her pictures - her and the Mayor having dinner at some trendy dive in the Bay area - a picture of just Faith, dressed for church - the Scoobies, each with their faces scrubbed out. Except for Buffy; around her face was a heart. Faith grabbed that picture and smashed it.

Hatred nibbled at the edges of her resolve. She looked up and spotted the image from San Francisco. The Mayor’s smiling face seemed to say, "Come back to me, my Faith, I miss you."

"No!" she shouted, throwing his picture across the room. "I will not be your girl, Wilkins! I want to be myself! Me. Faith. Whoever that is," she added in a softer voice, resting her head against the cool marble of the mantel.

A pile of mail spilled across the floor of the foyer. Curiously, she ambled over and picked it up. "Junk, junk, bill, bill, junk, letter," this she opened. It was from the Mayor. A small brass key dropped out of the envelope.

My Dear Faith;

If you are reading this, then I guess my calculations were a bit off. Oh well, better luck next time, eh? Well, this is not the time to cry over spilled milk, so I’ll be brief. You are set, Faith. I took care of everything. When you wake up, and I know you will, because you are my girl and you would never disappoint me, you will never have to worry again. Just go on down to the bus station and open locker #25. Just part of my legacy to you. Be good my girl. Make me proud.

All My Love,

~W

Tears streamed down Faith’s face.

"What do I do?" she asked the uncaring dust bunnies.

***

Tara and Willow walked into Tara’s dorm and were greeted by Lauren Bishop, who was holding a stack of mail.

"Tara!" she crowed happily. "I am so glad to see you back! I’ve got something that was delivered for you." She rifled through the stack and pulled out a registered envelope. "I signed for it, I hope you don’t mind."

Tara accepted the piece of mail silently. Willow smiled half-heartedly and muttered, "Thanks, Lauren."

"So, what is it?" Lauren asked, crowding in close.

Tara shrugged and ripped it open. A sheaf of documents fell out. The girls raced to pick them up, bumping into each other quite a bit. Finally, Willow came up with a cover letter.

"To Tara Walsh: Our condolences go out to you for the loss of your mother, Margaret Renee Walsh," she read.

"Just throw it away, Willow. I don’t care about that," Tara said emotionlessly.

"Your mother died?" Lauren asked, horror struck, "and you don’t care?"

"No, I don’t," Tara replied icily, turning to walk away.

"Woo, cold, much?" Lauren retorted, then said to Willow, "and you’re sleeping with her? You must be part Eskimo."

"Tara, wait. This letter is from a law firm. You, you inherited your mother’s estate. It’s um," she said, scanning the document, "quite substantial," Willow finished, biting her lip.

"So?" Tara shrugged, and started walking to her room. "I don’t want her blood money."

"Your mother died and left you lots of money and you don’t care?" Lauren repeated. Willow could not tell which flabbergasted the woman more – Tara’s seeming uncaring attitude regarding her mother’s passing, or her lack of enthusiasm for the money.

"It’s a long story," Willow said, then raced after her girlfriend.

"I’ll just bet," Lauren said, smiling wickedly, then flounced off to her room.

Willow caught up to Tara and said, "Tara, why don’t you want this? Think of what it could do for you."

"Oh? Like what?" Tara said as she unlocked her door.

"Well, how about not having to worry about paying your bills, like, ever?" Willow suggested.

"I don’t care about that, Will. That money is blood money – money she made off of the suffering of others. I don’t want anything to do with that."

"But your mother is a part of you," Willow said, as they went into Tara’s room.

Tara flipped on the lamp and Spaz looked up from his spot in the center of the bed, meowing a greeting. Tara walked over to the cat, scrubbed his ears affectionately, then opened the window. The feline seemed to understand what that meant and got up and leapt out of the window. Tara paced around the room, wringing her hands.

The wiccan sighed and said, "Yeah, mom’s a part of me… the bad part."

"I don’t believe that," Willow said, setting her helmet down on the floor, "and I don’t think you do either."

"Then what do you call this?" Tara released her hard-kept control and allowed her face to morph.

"I call that just another part of you for me to love," Willow said softly, walking over to the wiccan and pulling her into an embrace.

Tara didn’t return the hug. "Will, my ‘mother’ blended my soul with that of a blood-sucking demon, how can you love me?"

"I can, because you are more than the sum of your parts, Tara. We all have our inner demons. Yours is just a little more… demony. I love you, Tara. I can’t completely explain why and I’m not sure I want to. I don’t hold your lineage against you, and neither should you."

"I don’t know, Will, I just don’t know," Tara said, wrapping her arms around the hacker and resting her head on her shoulder. Willow held the blonde wiccan close, stroking her back soothingly.

"Hey! Didn’t your mother inherit from your Gran?" Willow asked suddenly.

"I guess so."

"Well then, maybe that money comes from your Gran, or at least, maybe part of it does."

Tara smiled, loving Willow for trying. "Maybe. I’ll think about it. Convince me some more?" she asked plaintively.

"Hello? Off-campus housing next semester," Willow said, lowering her voice. "We could, um, share a place, just the two of us?" she laid a warm kiss on Tara’s jaw. "It’d be nice, and private," she added, stressing private.

"Mmm, I’m convinced," Tara said, turning her head to kiss the hacker passionately.

***

Buffy lay on her bed with her arms folded behind her head and stared at the ceiling. How was she going to explain everything to him? Would he understand? The slayer kicked her feet up and down in nervous frustration. Why did life have to be so damned complicated?? A knock on her door brought her to her feet. She let in Riley and they sat across from each other; she on Willow’s bed, he on hers.

"So," he said, running his hands down the tops of his legs. "You wanna let me in on the big secret about the dead guy?"

"I wish you wouldn’t put it that way," Buffy said softly.

"How do you want me to put it? He’s dead, Buffy. Just ‘cuz he walks and talks doesn’t make him living, not in this town."

"God, Riley, can you be any more insensitive? You sound like the poster boy for MacNamera’s goons."

"I am one of MacNamera’s ‘goons’, Buffy," He said in a low tone.

"You know what I mean. You’re making assumptions. Demons evil; Humans good," she said accusingly.

"That’s not such a bad philosophy, Buffy. It’s kept me alive. You too, if you’d think about it."

"Yes, but there are exceptions to your philosophy, Ry. Angel’s one of them. I’ve know a couple of others."

"So… Angel’s a ‘good’ vampire?" the commando asked disbelievingly.

"Most of the time," Buffy hedged.

Riley got up and began pacing around the room. "Okay, maybe the better question is when is he not? And what did Spike mean about ‘previous partners’?"

Buffy crossed her arms and shrugged, "Well, there’s this curse – a gypsy curse – that gives Angel back his soul. As long as he’s got that, he won’t hurt anyone."

"I sense a but, here," Riley said, sitting back down.

"Well, the catch in this curse is that if Angel has a moment of true happiness, he loses his soul, and becomes the demon again," Buffy explained, not able to meet Riley’s eyes.

"So what’s to stop him from being happy?" Riley asked.

"Guilt."

"Oh. And you know all this because?"

"I’ve seen the other side of him."

"You’ve seen… oh… oh!" Riley closed his eyes. "You had sex with him," he said flatly.

"He was my first," Buffy admitted, crying.

Riley shuddered in revulsion. "That’s disgusting."

"What?" Buffy growled through her tears.

"You. You slept with him, Buffy. You slept with the dead. You’re disgusting. I can’t even begin to understand that. I’ve got to go." He jumped up and backed away from the slayer, who was sobbing.

"Riley…" she reached for him. "I need you," she wailed.

"I can’t," he said stiffly, turning away from her. "Go back to deadboy, Buffy. I’m not yours anymore." Riley opened the door and walked out, closing it silently behind him.

"Oh my God, what just happened?" Buffy whispered, then collapsed on her bed, sobbing.

***

Faith went through her old flat quickly. She grabbed a backpack the mayor had bought her, plus a sleeping bag and a few other goodies. Clothes were stuffed into the pack as well as some canned food and bottled water. When she had taken what she needed, she left the way she came in - through the window.

The dark-haired slayer walked through the silent streets of Sunnydale, backpack comfortably settled on her back, hair pulled up in a ponytail and a bottle of water in her hand. She was going to go to that bus station and see what the mayor had left her, and then she was going to find a place to sleep.

At the bus station, she found the locker and opened it. Inside there was an envelop and a set of keys. She pulled the keys out and examined them curiously. What’s this? Dodge? Huh? The envelope was thick, filled with something. A quick sniff made her grin.

"Oho Wilkins, I do like the way you think," she said, eyes gleaming with greed. Guilt overwhelmed her then, and she almost dropped the envelope, treating it as if it were scalding hot. She sighed heavily. "But I’m not so comfy accepting this," she said softly.

"Then don’t. There’s no bad karma in passing on an unwanted gift," a vaguely familiar voice said.

Faith spun around. Gran Murphy was standing behind the slayer, smiling benevolently. "Who the hell are you, Lady? Every time I turn around, there you are!"

"I’m a friend," the old woman said kindly. "I’d like to be your friend, if you’d allow."

A strange emotion welled up within the slayer. Faith felt drawn to Gran Murphy, like she could trust the grandmothery older woman with her life. "All right, I could use a friend," she said, hesitantly. "But I’m not exactly the best person in the world to get along with."

"That’s okay sweetie, I have my cranky days as well. Now, let’s see about having something to eat, then take a look at that unwanted gift."

"Did you say food?" Faith asked, grinning suddenly. "I’m all yours, lady."

"Call me Gran, Faith," the older woman said, linking her arm through Faith’s and leading her away.

They found a small all night coffee shop and ordered meals. Once Faith had demolished her double-decker cheeseburger with all the trimmings, she pulled out the envelope and opened it. Inside was a wad of cash, a some legal documents and another letter. Quietly, Faith began to read:

"My Dearest Faith:

By now you have recieved at least one of my notes. Alas, I am not there to read them to you, to see the sun shine on your beautiful face once again. Time waits for no man, or demon, I suppose. You must be curious about what I have left you, my dear, so fret no more. Oh this is like Christmas! I so wish I was there just to see your bright face light up with joy! Anyway, I wanted to be certain that my daughter, for you are as dear to me as such would be, had the best. I’ve cast a spell for you, Faith. It’ll provide for you when you need it. No, don’t thank me, just remember me, and smile. Ah, there, see, that’s better. Be of good cheer, Faith, the world is waiting for you."

Faith stopped reading and growled, "I don’t want his damn charity!"

Gran reached over and patted Faith’s hand. "Shh, it’s all right dear. Just keep reading."

Faith rolled her eyes and continued.

"You will need to be mobile, so I bought you a vehicle. Now don’t go blushing and hiding that pretty face of yours, I know you’ll have some fun with it. It’s nice and durable, and the dealer assured me that it was ‘cool’ as well. I do hope you like it. It should be waiting for you at your flat. This is my final message to you, Faith. Again, I wish I could be there to see you. Be well, and enjoy life!

All my love,

~W."

Faith crumpled the letter and buried her head in her hands. "I don’t know what to do, Gran," she whispered. "He was the only person that ever acted like he wanted me around, and he was evil."

"That doesn’t negate his love for you, child," Gran said gently.

"Maybe. But, I’m trying so hard right now, I don’t want to mess it up. I-I’ve been told that I’m really close to spending time in a pine box, and I’ve kinda grown fond of sunlight."

"What do you think you should do then, Faith?"

"I dunno, maybe give the money away? Not get the car, although having wheels would be great ‘cuz then I wouldn’t be such a burden to Angel."

"I can’t tell you what to do, dear, but I can give you some advice. A gift freely given is something to be treasured. Now tell me, what do you think Mr. Wilkins had in mind, giving you the things he did?"

"Well," Faith said, staring at the pile of cash, "I know he gave me some kind of doohickey that put my consciousness in Buffy’s body and hers in mine so I could get revenge on her." She looked at the older woman, who didn’t seem phased by all the weird stuff that Faith was talking about. "And I should probably ask you if you’re at all freaked by this stuff."

"Nonsense. Why should I be?"

"Well, ‘cuz most people don’t believe in stuff like magic and spells and stuff?"

Gran laughed. "Oh child, I’ve seen more things than you’d imagine, my dear. A little bit of magic isn’t going to scare me away. Now go on, talk to me, that’s why we’re here."

Faith looked out the window and stared at the pre-dawn sky for a long moment before continuing. "I think – I think he wanted me to be happy, so he left things he thought would help me. Except the whole body switch thing really didn’t help. It just allowed me to continue running away from myself. And this," she indicated the cash, "is another temptation altogether. With this, I could run far, far away, and never return." She sighed. "And you know, I almost wish I could, but what would happen then? Where would I go? I have no one. So, I’m thinkin’ that maybe I ought to just toss this in the nearest trash can before I go completely crazy."

"Do you trust me, Faith?" Gran asked, after the slayer had quieted.

Faith shrugged. "Sure, I don’t trust myself, but I trust you."

"Give me the money."

Faith sighed in relief and handed the wad over. "Here, take it. Go buy yourself a nice Winnebago or something like that."

Gran laughed. "Waste of good money, I’m afraid. No, I have something else in mind for this." She pulled a vial of something sweet smelling from her purse and sprinkled it over the cash, over Faith, and on the car keys. Then she began chanting softly, almost as if she were singing a lullaby. Faith’s eyes grew heavier and heavier until she fell into a deep sleep.

"Wilkins you old bastard, you won’t get this one. She’s mine, by all that’s light in this world, I claim her." A wave of power rippled outward from Gran’s body, causing all it touched to stop for just a heartbeat, then move on as if nothing had happened.

***

Buffy woke up feeling horrible. Her eyes were puffy and bloodshot, her throat was raw and parched and her muscles were cramped from the position she’d slept in, but all that was minimal discomfort compared to her heart. Inside, she felt like someone had detonated a grenade and all that was left were little shards of things that clung precariously to the walls.

She dragged herself out of bed, noting that once again, Willow had slept elsewhere. Can you blame her? It’s not like you’ve been a homebody, either. The slayer grabbed her toothbrush kit and stumbled to the bathroom where she tried to make herself look less dead, and only partially succeeding. Once back in her room, she pulled on some clothes and wandered outside, not particularly caring where she was going, just walking around. Her arm hurt a little, but she didn’t want to go back to Giles’ and get her pain medication just yet.

Sunday strollers meandered passed her as she walked, head down, eyes tearing up every time she noticed happy couples sharing a laugh or a hug. That used to be me; just yesterday, even, she though sadly, dashing away a couple of tears.

Buffy considered going to cry on Willow’s shoulder, but decided against it, not wanting to take the young woman away from her new love. Xander was out too, as Anya would probably turn her pity-me session into a farce. That left Giles and she immediately dismissed the idea of sharing anything of her personal life with her Watcher. Former Watcher, whatever. She kicked a rock out into the street angrily. I don’t even have the comfort of practicing, not with this bum arm! she thought unhappily.

Eventually she came to a quiet pond in the middle of a park. There was no one else around, so she sat down, gathered a few stones and began tossing them into the water.

***

Faith woke up in the bed of a pickup truck. She was neatly tucked into her sleeping bag and her backpack had been made into a pillow. She sat up and rubbed her eyes, then looked around. She was back at her old flat, but downstairs in the parking lot. The truck she had been sleeping in was a black, late model Dodge Ram and it was, as far as she could tell, sweet.

The slayer scrambled out of the sleeping bag and jumped over the side to examine the vehicle closer. She skimmed her fingers over the slick surface of the metallic paint job and whistled.

"That dealer was right, it is cool," she said softly. The keys were in her pocket, so she unlocked the door and climbed in, not quite believing it was hers. But it was, according to the paperwork sitting on the passenger seat. The title was in her name, as was the full coverage AAA insurance, paid in full for 10 years.

"Wow. This is a babe magnet if I ever saw one," Faith said, stroking the wheel and drooling over the in-dash CD system. The seats were a soft beige leather, almost as soft as her old jacket. She was still drooling over the truck when her eyes caught a flicker of something out the front window.

Faith looked up as a ghostly script formed. I’m glad you had a good night’s rest, Faith. Get something to eat and go patrolling later. Keep your ears open, I have a feeling you’ll be needed tonight. ~Gran.

"Now that’s just weird, Gran," Faith muttered, starting the truck’s engine, and smirking at the answering purr. "Oh yeah, I’m liking this." She put the vehicle in gear and pulled out of the parking space.

***

"Angel!" Cordelia pounded on his door. "Angel, wake up and take me out to eat, I’m starving!"

The door between their rooms was unlatched and opened. Angel stood before Cordy wearing just a pair of boxers. She blushed and turned away. "You wanted something, Cordy," he asked sleepily.

"Yeah," she said, "I’m hungry. Can we, I mean, can you take me somewhere for food?"

He looked at his watch. It was five o’clock. "After the sun goes down, sure. Until then, get something from room service," he yawned and turned to go back into his room.

"Yeah, right, with my luck they’ll bring me something gross like a dead rat," Cordy groused, walking over the mini fridge and pulling out a 7-Up. "No thanks, I’ll wait." She flopped onto the sofa and clicked on the TV.

Two long, boring hours later, Angel knocked on her door. "Ready?" he asked when she opened it.

"I’m so hungry, I could eat you," she said, then clamped her hand over her mouth. "I meant…"

"I know what you meant, Cordelia," he said, laughing. "Come one, I’ll buy you whatever you want."

"Really?" the receptionist asked, eyes lighting up.

"Sure, so long as it can be found in Sunnydale after dark."

"Just follow my lead, boss man," she sing-songed.

***

Dusk had fallen and Buffy stood up from where she had sat all day and wiped off her pants.

"Okay, Buff, you’ve done your mourning, time to get on with it. Move your ass home and get with the wiccagirls," she told herself resolutely. She started walking home, grimacing when her arm throbbed with every step she took. "That was not smart, Buff. Next time, grab the pills."

Laughter trickled into her ears. "I can tell you something else not smart, Slayer," a deep voice said.

Buffy pivoted on her heels and spotted a newly-risen vampire lurking in the shadows. She rolled her eyes. "Look, I do not have time for you today. Shoo! Go ‘way, I’ll play with you another day."

The vamp chuckled and edged out into the light. "I don’t think so. I’m gonna be famous. I’ll be Percival the Slayer’s Slayer. Chicks will really dig that!"

Buffy nearly choked on her own laughter. The vampire was the epitome of geekdom – pocket protector, taped glasses, suspenders, white shirt and grease slicked hair. "Your sire must have been starving," she said, lashing out with a kick, "because you don’t look like you made much of a meal."

He growled, doubled up his fists and swung at her, connecting hard with her casted arm. Buffy shrieked in pain, then jumped up and spin-kicked the vamp in the jaw. Bones shattered noisily and the creature spat out teeth. "You’ll pay for thath, sthlayer!" he drooled, rushing her.

She sidestepped his attack, but was brought down by a surprise elbow smash to the skull. They continued to tussle, rolling around on the ground trading blows. Her cast cracked and crumbled and shooting streamers of pain began racing up her arm, breaking her concentration. Percival got the slayer on her back and started hammering his fists into her face.

Buffy started to black out and for one, pitiful moment, she wanted to stop fighting and just let the damn vampire win. That’s when his weight vanished, leaving her gasping for breath. She opened her eyes and saw Angel kicking the snot out of the other vampire. Her ex-boyfriend executed a lovely flip-kick then flicked his wrists, causing two stakes to shoot out into his hands. Both of them were driven home into Percival’s heart and the vamp turned to dust.

Angel dropped the stakes and was by Buffy’s side instantly. Helping her stand, he said, "Are you okay, Buffy?" with such tenderness that the slayer burst into tears. Blinking in surprise, he gathered the distraught girl into his arms and began whispering soothing phrases into her ears.

Buffy cried for a few minutes, enjoying the feeling of Angel’s arms around her for what felt like the first time in decades, then she pulled away and wiped her eyes. "Thanks," she said, "I thought I had finished doing that earlier. Guess I was wrong."

"Wanna tell me about it?" he asked sympathetically.

She shrugged. "Not really, but I don’t have anyone else to talk to about it, so I guess you’ll have to do."

"I’m here for you Buffy, always," he said as they began walking back toward the park. He cast a quick glance over his shoulder and nodded to Cordelia, who just smiled and held up the to-go bag they’d gotten from some swanky dive. Satisfied that his other charge would be safe, he wrapped an arm around the slayer.

They walked around for a while in silence, then ended up back within earshot of Angel’s car. Cordy was still eating her dinner, barely looking up to wave at Angel as he nodded over to her.

Buffy exhaled a shuddering sigh. "Well, I told Riley about us," she finally said when they’d found a bench to sit on.

"He didn’t take it well?" Angel guessed.

"You could say that, and be up for the understatement of the century award," Buffy replied sardonically. She bowed her head and whispered, "He said I was disgusting, Angel. Because I slept with you… I ‘slept with the dead’. He hates me." The slayers shoulders seemed to collapse as she laid her head on the table and wept.

Angel turned away as his face morphed. For several minutes he fought to get his anger under control, then said, "Buffy, you - you’re not disgusting."

"Yes I am," she sobbed. "He wouldn’t even touch me, Angel. He treated me as if I were a day-glo orange pump."

Angel didn’t know what to say. What could he say? This was not something he’d ever had to deal with.

"You’re not disgusting," a new voice said. Buffy looked up. Faith walked up, finishing the remains of a burger, then tossing the wrapper into a nearby garbage can. "Look B, I know I’m the last person you want to see right now - or take advice from, for that matter - but let me be the first to clue you in; you are not disgusting. If anyone in this town has earned that title, it’s me."

"Thanks, Faith, I think," Buffy said softly.

"No, I mean it B. Love is never disgusting, no matter what form it comes in. If beefstick can’t understand that, then he’s not good enough for you anyway. You deserve the best, B," the other slayer finished, wiping her hands on her pants. "Anyway, I gotta blow. Patrol, and stuff. B, go back to Giles’ and have him look at that cast, it looks wicked tattered." Faith turned and walked away.

***

Cordelia Chase stared at her duck a l’orange and sighed. Damnit all, why did life have to constantly throw curve balls at her? First Xander, then her dad’s bankruptcy and now… Faith? The receptionist - actress, she told herself firmly, I am an actress! -- frowned. She’d heard everything Buffy, Angel and Faith had said. Everything. It sucked. Part of her wanted to agree with Faith - the dark-haired slayer had done some vicious and yes, disgusting things. But Cordelia also had to be honest and admit that the girl had also done some of the kindest things.

Like offering me her precious leather jacket - which I promptly ignored. God, I’m such an ass! The actress remembered. Or catching me all those times when I’d have a vision, and bringing me treats when I felt rotten. In fact, since the dark-haired slayer had put her feet on the path toward redemption, she’d been nothing but nice to Cordelia. At first, the actress had assumed that it was because Faith was trying to kiss up to her for all the hell she’d put Cordy and her friends through, but Faith’s niceness went way beyond the call of duty.

She likes me, it suddenly dawned on the actress. And I think I like her. Cordy started wigging a little.

"Oh God, I’m having an Ellen moment," she muttered to her plate.

"An Ellen moment?" Faith’s voice made the actress nearly leap straight up.

"Faith!" she squeaked, dropping her plate on her legs. Thankfully, it was mostly empty so only a little bit of the sticky stuff spattered Cordy’s leather miniskirt. "Don’t do that!" she remonstrated.

"Sorry, Queen C, I guess it’s just a Slayer thing," Faith shrugged, leaning on the hood of the car.

Cordelia rolled her eyes. "It’s always a ‘Slayer thing’, Faith. Why can’t it just be you, being a punk?"

"Okay, so it was me, being a punk," Faith grinned, and surprisingly, Cordelia answered with a grin of her own. "So, whatcha doin’ sitting out here in the dark like some vampire’s wet-dream come true?"

Cordy scrubbed at the sticky stuff ineffectually. "I was eating my dinner," she said.

"Oh yeah, I always eat with my eyes closed," Faith smirked.

The actress sighed exasperatedly. "Okay, so I was done eating. I was waiting for Buffy to stop whining about her oh-so horrible life," Cordy rolled her eyes. "As if! I mean, at least she doesn’t have to worry about a paycheck."

"Aw, give her a break, sweet cheeks, she just got dumped by soldier boy."

"I got that," Cordelia snapped. "I mean, it’s not as if I’m deaf, or anything," she added, then cocked her head to look at the dark-haired slayer. "Do you really think you’re that bad, Faith?"

Faith shrugged noncommittally. "Yeah, sure. I mean, I killed without remorse and all that. Blood on my hands, see," she held up a clean hand. "Well, maybe not, but I can. I can feel it, too," she added in a quiet tone. "It’s icy, and kinda slimy and it’s always there. So yeah, I’m pretty disgusting." Faith stood up and stuffed her hands in her back pockets. "Well, later."

"La – Faith, wait!" Cordelia said, unbuckling her seat belt and climbing out of the car. Faith waited for her, then started walking as soon as the actress was out. Cordy hurried to catch up. "Look, I - I may not have always been the nicest person to you Faith, and I know you’ve got some pretty heavy shit in your past that hurts, so… I just want you to know that I don’t think you're all that disgusting," she finished.

Faith cocked her head to one side and examined Cordelia’s face. When her gaze finally met the actress' eyes searchingly, Cordy smiled. Faith blushed a bit and turned away. "Thanks, sweet cheeks, that’s wicked nice, coming from you."

They continued to walk in silence for a bit, then Cordy asked, "So, why are you out here, anyway?"

"Patrol. B can’t do it so someone has to. Otherwise the nasties just might get the idea that they can rule this town," Faith said, stopping to reach into a shadowed area by a building, grab a vamp and stake him. The slayer brushed the vampdust off of her jacket and kept walking.

"I get that," Cordy said, coughing at the cloud of dust.

"Hey," Faith said, "Wanna see my new toy?"

The actress stopped and looked at Faith. "Is that some kind of weird pick-up line, Faith?"

Faith laughed, a rich, rolling sound that did interesting things to Cordelia’s stomach. "No! Why, do you want it to be?" the slayer waggled her eyebrows and Cordelia rolled her eyes. Faith held up her hands and said, "No, really. Honestly, it’s something Wilkins left me."

"The mayor? And you kept it because?"

Faith shrugged. "It’s cool, and… I wanted to. I mean, I know he was like evil and all, but he really cared about me, Cordelia. He made me feel special for the first time in my life. That’s not something a girl can forget real fast, y’know?"

"I guess. So what is it?"

"This," Faith said, stopping in front of her truck and patting the hood like the truck was some kind of well-trained terrier.

Cordy blinked and stared at the vehicle. "Wow," she finally said, "Some toy, Faith."

"Yeah, he left me a bunch of cash too, but I gave that to the sisters at St. Terry’s," Faith said nonchalantly. Or at least, that’s what Gran had done with it, since Faith had given her the whole wad at dinner the day before.

"Faith!" Cordelia squealed. "You gave away cash! And you didn’t save any for me?" The actress looked positively stricken.

"Well, yeah. I didn’t want his dirty money… but this truck is just rock, don’tcha think?"

The actress walked around the truck, stroking the sleek finish. "Well, it’s certainly butch, like you," she commented. "Bet you had all the guys drooling over it today."

"Eh, I wouldn’t have noticed. Not really my thing, y’know?" Faith shrugged, and stole a glance at the actress.

Cordy looked up from her inspection of the paint job and raised an eyebrow. "Weren’t you the one to ahem, relieve Xander of his pesky virginity?"

Faith shrugged, "Yup, but that wasn’t love, that was hormones – and that’s a whole ‘nother story," she finished, flashing the actress a huge grin. "O’course I don’t think I’m gonna be doing anything like that anytime soon. Just doesn’t seem to be the kosher thing to do, y’know?"

"So you’re like what, now, a nun?" Cordy asked as she waltzed around to the rear of the truck. She looked at the plate and snorted. TGR-GRL flashed at her in big blue letters. "Tiger Girl? Oh please!"

Faith grinned sheepishly. "Not my choice, sweet cheeks. I’ll get it changed as soon as I can think of something better."

"Good, because this is just so… 80’s!"

"Oh, heaven forbid!" Faith clutched her chest in mock-angst. "So, wanna go for a ride, sweet cheeks?"

"I thought you’d never ask," Cordelia said, walking up to the passenger door and climbing in. The actress snuggled down into the leather seats with a satisfied purr. "For a bad guy, the mayor sure had taste!"

Faith slid in and keyed the ignition. "Yeah," she said over the motor’s roar. "I dig it." She wiggled her eyebrows at Cordy. "Wanna shift my stick, sweet cheeks?"

Cordelia’s face reddened, but she raised an eyebrow in challenge. "You sure you can handle me touching it?"

"Try me," Faith said, dropping her voice an octave.

Cordy swallowed and slid her hand over the gear shift, gripping tightly. "Like this," she asked, looking at Faith. The slayer nodded and covered Cordelia’s hand with her own.

"Uh-huh, just like that," she said, squeezing their hands together and putting the truck into reverse. Faith backed the truck out of the space, then turned it around and headed back to where they’d left Buffy and Angel. "We… we should probably let Angel know where you are, Cordy," Faith said.

"Yeah," the actress agreed thickly, leaning back and closing her eyes. Faith’s hand twined in hers felt so wonderful! It was frightening and invigorating all at once. Kind of like getting on a roller coaster for the first time - and Cordy decided that she was starting to like the ride. "Yeah, that sounds like a great idea. You can buy me a mocha afterwards."

"Sounds good to me."

***

After Spike had been processed into the Initiative’s cell population, he quickly began passing Adam’s instructions to his fellow inmates. The cyborg’s directives were clear: cause as much chaos and havoc as possible, but do not harm the Slayer. Some of the demons grumbled about the orders, but quieted down when Spike offered to change their minds for them.

The soldiers and doctors paid little, if any attention to the demons, more concerned with gathering up the seeming plethora of hostiles that had suddenly appeared on the UC Sunnydale campus. Colonel MacNamera had ordered that the "animals" be gathered and penned until there weren’t any more to capture.

When Riley walked back into the compound, wearing the coldly unemotional mask of a true soldier, MacNamera had clapped him on the back and welcomed him home. Together, they disappeared into the colonel’s office to discuss the "Adam situation".

Spike grinned happily. "Looks like things are just peachy in the Slayer’s little world. What a rip… Too bad I’ll miss the jolly times. Ah well, duty calls." He pulled a smoke, lit it and began talking to the demons in the cell across from his.

***

"Finn, it’s a pleasure to have you back in the fold," MacNamera said as he sat down in his chair.

"Thank you, sir. It’s good to be back," Riley replied coldly.

"I don’t think I have to tell you exactly how pleased I am that you came to your senses about that Summers girl, do I?"

Something flickered over Riley’s face, but was gone before it could be identified as even an emotion. "No sir, you do not."

"Excellent. First things first, I’d like you take the men out for a little exercise. When you’ve done a clean and sweep of sector five, come back and talk to me."

Riley saluted. "Yes, sir!" He turned around and marched out of the room.

A portion of the office wall slid away to reveal a screen. A shadowy figure dressed in an expensive suit sat at a desk, looking at MacNamera. "Well, Colonel, it seems that our boy has returned to the fold after all. The project will commence as ordered. Activate Gamma team first, then the others. Save Finn for last – we may need him to hold off the Slayer. And Colonel, don’t mess this up. Adam is to be taken alive. Too much is riding on this operation to lose our best model."

MacNamera saluted the screen as it went dead.

***

"I can’t believe they put ginger in the biscotti!" Cordelia complained as she and Faith patrolled one of the many cemeteries in Sunnydale.

"I’m sorry about that, Cordy. I really didn’t know you were allergic to it. I should have just gotten you the chocolate chip cookies," Faith said, walking around to wait near a freshly dug grave.

"Why didn’t you, anyway?" the actress asked, rubbing her arms against the chill.

"Well, I uh, sorta thought you might be on a diet or …" Faith said, shrugging a little.

"Diet! Why? Do I look fat?" Cordy asked, showing off her perfectly lean body to the dark-haired slayer. The slayer ogled her for a minute, then smirked.

"Not at all! But don’t you actresses eat like birds anyway?" The dirt above the grave site began to vibrate and Faith readied her stake.

"Harumph! Not this actress! I eat whatever I like and just work off the extra calories. Demon slayage in L.A. keeps one fit, you know." She rubbed her arms again. "Brr, damn it! I hate Sunnydale. Less than an hour’s drive south and it’s balmy-city U.S.A. but not in this town. No," she drew out the word, "Here it’s freezing cold and the dead are rising!" Cordelia kicked a rock into the back of the headstone.

A pale hand clawed its way through the topsoil. Faith just waited, allowing the vampire to rise from the earth before kicking it in the shin and driving a stake through its back. When the dust settled she walked over to Cordy, pulling off her jacket.

"Here, I’m kinda warm so why don’t you wear this," she offered, almost shyly.

Cordelia, remembering how she’d refused the offer once before, silently accepted the slayer’s coat and slid the warm leather on. The jacket smelled like Faith of course. Cordy cuddled it to her, drinking in the left-over warmth of the slayer’s body heat.

"Thanks," she said softly as they continued their journey.

"My pleasure, sweet cheeks," Faith said, extending her arm for Cordy to take. Together, they continued the patrol.

***

Willow and Tara spent the day alternately studying, playing with Spaz and avoiding any serious conversation. Near nightfall, Willow put her books away and booted up her laptop, then began attempting to reconstruct the virus code she’d written while a captive of the cyborg Adam. After the fifteenth try to get the file to execute, she spun away from the desk and sighed.

"This isn’t working. I need to see what’s on that disk that Adam left behind. I’m going over to Giles’ and see if he still has it. Wanna come, or are you still busy with your homework?"

Tara looked up from working on a long report. "I-I’d better stay here, Willow. I have to turn this in this week."

"Okay, I’ll be back shortly. Love you," she leaned over and kissed the wiccan on the cheek.

Tara smiled and returned the embrace. "Love you too, now go before I decide to play hooky and come with you."

"I’m gone," Willow grinned and left.

Giles was home, working his way steadily through a bottle of good Irish whiskey when Willow’s knock brought him half-way to sobriety.

"Just a bloody moment," he hiccuped drunkenly as he stumbled over to answer the door.

The hacker pushed the door open herself and stopped in complete surprise at her mentor’s condition. "Giles!" she exclaimed. "Have you been drinking?"

"O-only a little, you know, because it goes down so smoo-smooth," Giles babbled.

Willow blinked. "All right, what happened?" she asked, gently wrapping an arm around the older man and guiding him to the couch.

"Oh, it’s just horrible, horrible really," Giles wailed, glad to have a sympathetic ear.

"Mmhmm, tell me about it," Willow said, going into the kitchen and starting a pot of coffee.

Giles lolled his head back and wailed, "Mr. Tibbons died!" then buried his head in his hands and began sobbing brokenly.

Willow was by his side instantly, handing him tissues and patting him on his back. "There, there, it’s all right. I’m sure Mr. Tibbons is in a better place," she soothed, wondering who "Mr. Tibbons" was and why his death so upset the watcher.

Giles cried harder, reaching for her and clinging on tight when she wrapped her arms around him. "I’ll never get to play toss-and-fetch with the jolly lad again!"

A dog? Giles is broken up over a dog? Willow wondered to herself, while she gently rocked the inebriated man until he fell into a fitful sleep. Once he was out, she made him comfortable on the couch, placing a cup of coffee close by on the table. The whiskey she poured out.

Looking around the small apartment produced not only the disk, but a letter that had obviously been read more than once. Torn between wanting to allow Giles his privacy and needing to know what had so deeply hurt him, Willow stared for a long time at the neatly folded scrap of paper before giving in and reading it.

When she was done, her own eyes were glazed with tears. Mr. Tibbons had been Giles’ family dog, whom he’d left in England with his parents. The dog had been killed when the family home had been broken in to by thieves. So had his parents. The letter was from Olivia, Giles’ sometime lover and friend. She suspected that the deed had been perpetrated by the Watcher’s Council, looking for some way to drive a wedge between Rupert and the Slayer, Buffy.

Olivia’s last words had been, "Ripper, I love you dearly, but I don’t think I can continue to allow myself to be more than just a friend. Your life is not what I want for my future. I wish you all the luck in the world and give you my deepest sympathies regarding your parent’s deaths."

Willow carefully refolded the note and left it where she’d found it. She went over and checked on Giles once more, covering him with a quilt. His glasses were slightly askew on his face so she gently removed them, folding them up and leaving them by the coffee. She also left a brief note saying that she’d been by and that she’d taken the disk. Then, she quietly left the apartment, locking the door behind her.

She nearly jumped out of her skin when she turned around to see an older woman sitting on the front steps. "Oh my gods, you scared me!" she exclaimed. "Are you lost?" she asked, cautiously approaching the woman.

"Oh no dearie, I’m just taking a rest. These old bones can’t handle all the activity they used to, after all," the woman said, looking up at Willow and smiling. There was something almost - familiar about her and Willow fought to remember where she’d seen the woman before, but just couldn’t place her.

"Oh, okay. Do you live around here?" the hacker asked, somehow wanting to stay and talk to the woman, though she didn’t know why. Perhaps it was the comforting scent of lavender that seemed the float around the older woman. Or maybe it was the warm blue eyes that seemed to smile at her, eyes that reminded her a bit of Tara’s.

"No, not really. I was just out for a bit of a stroll is all. It’s a wonderful night for a walk," the woman said. "How about you? You look like you might be one of those college students."

Willow smiled and said, "Yeah, I am. My name’s Willow Rosenberg," she held out a hand.

"Gran Murphy, or so everyone calls me," the woman responded, taking the hacker’s hand and shaking it firmly. "Ah good, a strong grip. There’s much to be said about the way a person’s hand takes another’s. I’m pleased to see such fire in you, young Willow." Gran looked into Willow’s eyes and the hacker began to feel slightly dizzy.

"Uh, thanks," she said, reaching out to steady herself on the concrete wall, then sitting down next to the woman when that didn’t work.

"That’s it, my dear, take a load off. There’s much I need to learn," Gran said softly, while gently rubbing Willow’s hand.

Willow nodded, swaying a bit, then her eyes rolled back in her head and she fell against the old woman’s side. Gran carefully lifted the hacker up, chanted a few soft words and stepped into a doorway that had appeared.

"Well now, let’s see what kind of woman my granddaughter has bonded with," Gran muttered as she walked through.

***

Willow woke up laying on a pile of lavender scented pillows. She rubbed her eyes and looked around. The room she was in was strange, almost unformed, with shapes that suggested ordinary things like a television and an overstuffed chair, yet these objects really didn’t seem to exist. From a distance off, she could what sounded like a woman humming an old song as she puttered around with pots and pans.

The hacker sat up, then wished she hadn’t as her bed sort of bubbled around her, then reshaped itself into a chair. A little queasy and more than a little confused, she called out, "H-hello?"

"Oh you’re awake, wonderful! Sorry about the little nap, Willow, but I thought it would be best if you made your first journey here as comfortably as you could," Gran Murphy’s voice floated out to her.

"Journey? Here? Where am I?" Willow asked, deciding not to wig out – yet. The older woman appeared, carrying a tray with a teapot and a plate of cookies on it.

"No where special, really. Just my home. Tea?" she said, laying the tray down on a rapidly forming table.

"Um, s-sure," Willow said.

"One lump, or two?"

"T-two," Willow replied, taking the cup of steaming tea after Gran had dropped two cubes of sugar in it.

"Ah, you have a sweet tooth. Yes, I can see how Tara would like that," Gran murmured while swirling a spoon around in the hot liquid of her own cup.

"Tara? How do you know about Tara?" Willow sat forward and set her cup down on the table.

Gran smiled. "You must relax, child. I won’t harm you. Really, I was just curious about certain things. Tara’s my granddaughter."

Willow blinked, then her jaw dropped. "What?" she managed to squeak out, mouth working around words that wanted to come tumbling out, but had no voice to sound them.

The old woman chuckled. "Yes, you are seeing a ghost my dear. Try not to be too frightened, I am here for a purpose, but it isn’t to interfere in your love life, not anymore," she gently assured the hacker.

"Oh, well, um, why are you here?" Willow asked, trying to make conversation and wondering how one went about talking to the ghosts of their girlfriend’s dead grandmothers. Gran’s statement finally registered and anger burned through her. "Wait a minute, anymore? Were you ever here to interfere in my love life?"

Gran busied herself with drinking her tea, sipping carefully at the hot liquid before replying, "Yes, at one time, I might have - gotten in the way of what was developing between you and Tara - but not anymore. I’ve come to accept this new path of Tara’s, even to the point of being thrilled by having you as an addition to the family," the older woman smiled gently.

Willow swallowed the lump that had risen in her throat. "Why?" she asked.

"Why what? Why interfere, or why have I accepted you?" Gran returned.

"Both," Willow replied, staring at the older woman curiously, all her fear and anger gone.

The old woman sighed and set her teacup down. "Well, originally Tara was supposed to have met this nice little witch, I think you might know her – Amy?" at Willow’s dazed nod, she continued, "and the two of them were going to fall in love and do all kinds of wonderful things. Then the Slayer came to Sunnydale and changed everyone’s destiny. I was so angry at first," Gran laughed, "Especially when she went and fell in love with Angel – Can you imagine a vampire and a slayer? I hadn’t. I had expected Buffy to fall in love with someone else."

"Who?" Willow asked curiously.

Gran cocked her head sideways and smiled, "Why you, child, who else?" Willow blinked and formed a silent "oh" and Gran continued. "But that didn’t happen. Things went on as they tend to do, and Amy ended up getting herself turned into a rat. By the way, you really should ask Tara to help you re-transform your friend - she could be a great asset to your ‘Scooby gang’."

Willow nodded, mesmerized by everything Gran was telling her. "Okay," she whispered, "I’ll do that."

"Excellent," Gran said, smiling. "Anyhow, without Amy, Tara was forced, or perhaps allowed, to choose her own destiny. She chose you. Did you know that, Willow? Tara chose you. She saw you on the very first day of college and gave her heart to you." Gran clasped her hands to her chest and sighed melodramatically. "That’s my girl, always the romantic."

"Yeah, romantic," Willow agreed, a bit dazed. Struggling to remember just when was the first time she’d noticed Tara, and coming up blank as her brain sent her "file not found" messages.

Gran laughed. "Oh dear, I do think I’ve gone and shocked you speechless. Well just you never mind about all this stuff, Willow child. It’s all maunderings in any case. What matters now is that I have finally met the woman that got my granddaughter to look up from the pavement!"

Willow blinked, then picked up her cup of cooling tea and sipped at it. "I-I hope I don’t disappoint you, Mrs. Murphy," she said politely.

"Nonsense! Call me Gran, everyone does. Now then, as to any disappointments, there are none, child. I’m very happy that my duckling has found her swan."

Willow grinned foolishly. "Yeah, so am I."

Gran stood up and rubbed her hands together. "Well, Willow, it was a pleasure meeting you. If you ever need anything, just call for me, I’ll come if I can." The old woman stretched out her hands and mumbled something and Willow felt an odd fuzzy sensation pass over her, then she woke up.

Willow wiped her eyes and stood up from the steps where she’d sat down to have a good cry on Giles’ behalf. She supposed she should have waited until she’d gotten back to Tara’s to cry, but the emotion had just overwhelmed her. The hacker stretched and calmly walked down to the bus stop and caught the next bus back to the campus.

***

Riley led Alpha squad through the park, looking for any possible HST activity. His scanner showed one blip sitting constant near the pond, so he gave several quiet orders, then forged ahead on point to scout out the situation. Through the cover of some thickly leafed bushes, he spotted what was making his scanner react - Angel. The vampire was sitting with Buffy at a picnic bench. The slayer had her head on his shoulder and she was crying. Riley noted that his ex-girlfriend’s cast looked a little busted up, but since the vamp didn’t appear to be the cause, he was about to let them go in peace when Angel looked over in his direction.

Even as far away as Riley knew they were, he felt Angel’s eyes seek his out. He met the even stare of the undead man with a calm demeanor. Angel glanced down to Buffy as if to say, "Well?" Riley looked away, closing his eyes. When next he looked, Angel had turned his back to the commando and was whispering something soothing to the slayer.

"Ry, is it a go?" Forrest’s voice crackled softly over his com unit.

Riley touched his throat and whispered back, "No go. Bug out, this one’s clean." Then he quietly crept back to his men and continued the patrol.

***

Angel brushed the tears from Buffy’s face and said, "Hey, it’s getting late, we’d better get you over to Giles’ so he can look at that cast." The vamp was glad that Faith had taken Cordy off his hands - it had given Buffy the time she’d needed to grieve.

Buffy sniffled and wiped her nose on her sleeve. "Yeah, you’re probably right. Can I get a ride?"

"Of course," he said, standing up and walking her to his car.

Buffy slid into the passenger seat and checked out the vehicle at the same time. "You never told me you had this," she commented as he started the car. The Bangles tape was still in the deck, but the volume had been turned down to something approaching normal. She raised her eyebrow at the musical selection. "Didn’t figured you for an 80’s freak, Ang."

He shrugged. "I never really needed it here in Sunnydale. It pretty much rotted in a garage until I moved to L.A, and the music is Doyle’s. Faith found it."

"Ah. Well, all in all, it’s not a bad little set of wheels, considering. Bet it drives Cordy batty though," she grinned.

"Oh yeah, Miss Chase feels that the car does not fit the image that Angel Investigations should establish with the clientele," Angel said with a laugh.

Buffy laughed with him and said, "You know, I would have never figured you as someone who could work closely with Cordelia Chase on a day-to-day basis, much less that arrogant ass Wesley."

"You’d be surprised at what those two are capable of, Buffy. They are loyal friends underneath their somewhat shallow exteriors," Angel commented, turning onto the street where Giles lived.

"Perhaps I would. I don’t know. Right now, I’m not sure I want to even try. My life’s kind of fallen into the ‘sucks to be me’ category and I’d hate to drag anyone else down."

"Just remember - you’ve got friends who care, Buffy," he said, parking the car. "Now, let’s go see what Giles says about that arm."

They walked up to the door and knocked. When the former librarian didn’t answer, Buffy reached into her pocket and withdrew a ring of keys. A couple of false tries later, she unlocked the door and stepped inside. "Giles?" she called out, looking around. The apartment was dim, and there was a definite odor of alcohol perfuming the air. Buffy furled her brow in consternation, "Giles? Are you okay?" she tried again, walking in cautiously. Angel was right behind her, flipping on the lights. Buffy blinked at the brightness, then laughed when she saw her watcher sprawled out on the couch. "Giles," she said, walking over and shaking him, "your bed is upstairs."

"Huh?" Giles moaned, waking slightly. "What is it? No, no, I don’t wish to have tea and crumpets right now Peter, I’m playing a bit of cribbage with mum and da."

"Whoa there, Mr. Dreamland, wakey-wakey." Buffy shook Giles again and this time he opened his eyes and sat up.

"Buffy?" he said, rubbing his eyes, then looking around for his glasses. Spotting them, he put them on and said, "What’s all the fuss? Has the world ended and I missed it?"

"Not hardly. Are you drunk, Giles?"

Angel lifted up an empty bottle of whiskey. "By the level of this bottle, I’d say that was a yes."

"I was having a bit of a bender, yes. Nothing to concern yourself with, Buffy," Giles said, standing up and heading off to the bathroom.

"Uh-huh. Watcher-weirdness. Great, just one more thing to add to my list of what’s wrong in Buffy’s world," the slayer said, sitting down on the recently vacated couch. She spotted Willow’s note, read it and smiled at the thoughtfulness of the hacker.

Angel set the bottle down and picked up the letter that was sitting by it. A quick scan told him everything he needed to know. "Buffy – I think you’d better see this," he said softly.

Buffy stood up and walked over to him. She looked the note over, eyes filling with tears as she read the sad contents.

"Anyway Buffy, what brings you here at this time of night?" Giles said as he exited the bathroom. The slayer quickly tried to put the letter down, but only succeeded in knocking the bottle of whiskey over. Angel caught it and set it down.

"Oh, nothing much, just ah, needed my pain pills. You know, for my arm?" she held out the battered cast. "Oh, and I kinda got into a little bit of a fight and Angel here thought maybe you should see the cast…"

Giles was looking at Buffy’s hands, which were still on the note. "You read the letter," he said without preamble.

Ashamed, Buffy looked way, unable to say anything.

"Well," he coughed uncomfortably, "now you know why I was drinking. It came as something of a shock to find myself suddenly without a family." The watcher pinched the bridge of his nose as more tears formed.

Angel looked away, but Buffy walked right over to Giles and hugged him. "No, that’s not true. You’ve got family. Right here. And I bet the rest of the gang would feel the same way, if you asked them," she said.

Giles didn’t respond, just held the slayer close to him and let a few more tears fall. Dear God, how much she has come to mean to me. They teach you everything about being a Watcher except how not to care, he thought.

After several minutes, Buffy pulled away. "Okay, sensitive moment done. I think I’ll just get my pills and go."

"Wait, let me see that cast," Giles said softly, taking her arm and examining the battered and broken fiber glass. "Oh, this will never do. You’re going to need a new one," he admonished.

"Oh no, not tonight. All I want to do tonight is go home and get some sleep," Buffy said with a commanding tone in her voice.

"At least let me wrap it," Giles bargained. The slayer rolled her eyes, but nodded. Rupert disappeared into his bathroom again, returning several minutes later with a rolled up bandage. He quickly reinforced the cast, then allowed Buffy to take her bottle of pills.

"Thanks, Giles. I’ll come by tomorrow and we can get the rest of the gang to meet up too," she said, then she and Angel left.

***

Faith and Cordelia had just reached UC Sunnydale when they heard a shout. "Stay here!" Faith yelled at Cordy as she jumped out of her truck and ran off toward the scream.

"Yeah-right!" Cordelia said, getting out and following. "No way am I going to be a meal ready to eat for some demon!"

Faith raced across the campus toward Stevenson Hall. She leaped over some bushes and onto the back of a vampire that had pinned a man down. The slayer rolled over and flung the female vamp across the grassy area, then reached down to help the dazed man up.

"Thank you," he said, face morphing, "she was kicking my ass."

"What the?" Faith said, ducking his fist. She looked over at the woman she’d attacked. It was Tara, Red’s woman. She was just standing up and shaking herself off. Faith could clearly see that the girl’s face was still morphed out, but the madness that lurked in every vampire’s eyes was absent from hers. Almost disinterestedly, she turned back to the male vamp and dodged his poorly aimed kick. "I don’t know what’s going on here, but you’re annoying," she said, catching his fist, swinging him around and burying a stake in his heart. When he’d scattered away to the winds, she turned to Tara, whose face was normal now. "You, on the other hand, are just plain confusing. You’re Red’s girl, right?"

"Y-yeah," Tara stammered.

"But you’re a vamp?" Faith gripped the stake tightly, just in case.

"N-not really, well, um, sort of? Look, I can explain, I really can, but I’ve got to find Willow. She’s been gone for hours and it’s after dark – "

"And we’re in Sunnydale, gotcha. Well, since you don’t set off my vampdar, I guess you’re cool. C’mon, let’s go look for Red." Cordy found them then. "Hey, I thought I told you to stay in the truck," Faith said, giving the actress a look.

"Yeah, and I said that I wasn’t gonna be some demon’s midnight snack," Cordy retorted. "So, where next?"

"We gotta find Red. Seems she’s gone missing."

"Oh, okay. Have you checked Oz’s place?"

Tara paled, but Cordelia seemed to miss it. Faith leaned over and stage-whispered, "Uh, sweet cheeks, Willow’s not um, playing fetch with Oz anymore."

Cordelia raised an eyebrow. "Oh, well then, I guess we could check the Bronze."

Faith laughed, "No, I don’t think we’ll find her there, either. Tara, where was she going?"

"She was headed over to Giles’ to get a disk," Tara said softly.

"Okay, so we check there first," the dark-haired slayer decided, heading toward her truck.

The three young women walked quietly. A bus stopped and let passengers off. "Tara?" one of them called out.

"Willow?" Tara turned around to see her hacker standing there with a goofy smile on her face.

"Tara, what are you and Faith and Cordy doing here?" Willow asked.

"I’m patrolling, Red. Cordy’s along for the ride. Tara here was looking for you," Faith drawled.

"Oh, well, here I am," Willow said, walking up to Tara and kissing her lightly. Cordy’s eyes bugged out. The actress had always suspected that the hacker was, well, that way, but to have it confirmed so casually, just when she was dealing with her own feelings for Faith… Why didn’t I know about this in High School? she thought mournfully, I might have gone for Will instead of Xander…

"What’s the matter, sweet cheeks, don’t like seein’ love in bloom?" Faith asked the actress softly.

Cordelia turned away and whispered harshly, "No, it’s not that."

Faith ran the tips of her fingers across Cordelia’s cheek. "What is it then?"

Cordy pulled away. "I-I can’t talk about it right now," she muttered.

"Okay, we’re five by five," Faith smiled. "Hey, why don’t Cordelia and I walk you back to your dorm," the slayer suggested.

"Okay," the two wiccans agreed, smiling.

***

They decided to stop first at Willow’s dorm so that the hacker could get a change of clothes and some textbooks. They got off the elevator in time to see Angel wish Buffy a good night. Cordy looked at Faith. "Do you have somewhere to stay tonight?"

Faith shrugged noncommittally. "Sort of. I crashed in my truck last night, was planning on doin’ it again tonight."

"You can stay with me," Cordy decided, making the statement firmly.

"Yes ma’am," Faith grinned. "Will you two be okay here?" she asked Willow and Tara, who nodded yes. "All right, we’re gone then. Hey V-boy," she greeted Angel, "see, I kept her in one piece," Faith nodded at Cordy, who stuck her tongue out at the slayer.

"I see that," Angel smiled, getting on the elevator. Faith and Cordelia joined him.

Willow and Tara went into Willow’s room. Buffy had already started pulling out her pj’s when the two wiccans walked in.

"Oh, hey you two. I wasn’t expecting you," Buffy said, smiling in greeting.

"Needed some stuff is all and what happened to your arm?" Willow asked, noting the newly wrapped cast.

"Ah, it’s nothing, just a bit of a scuffle is all. Giles had to reinforce the fiberglass," Buffy explained nonchalantly.

"I see. How did things with Riley go?"

Buffy’s face fell and she looked away. "Not so good," she admitted.

Willow walked up to her friend and put an arm around her shoulder. "Wanna talk about it?" she asked.

Tara looked at her lover, then at the door and raised her eyebrow and mouthed, "Do you want me to go?"

Willow shook her head and mouthed in return, "No, stay."

Tara nodded and sat down on Willow’s bed.

Buffy sighed. "Today has just all around sucked for everyone," she said, rubbing her eyes.

Willow nodded. "Yeah, I know, Giles lost his parents…" she trailed off, mentally kicking herself.

Buffy looked up. "You read the note too?"

Willow sheepishly admitted, "Yeah, I did."

"It’s all right. I was going to tell you anyhow. He was pretty broken up over it."

"The whiskey," Willow said.

"Yeah, the whiskey," the blonde slayer sighed. "I hope he doesn’t turn to the bottle every time things get tough though," she added.

"I think this was a special occasion," Willow said, then added, "but we’re going to talk about you now Buff. Spill."

Buffy sat down on her bed and Willow sat next to her. The slayer looked over at Tara, who waved a little, then purposefully reached over and took a book off of Willow’s nightstand and buried her nose in it. The slayer smiled and said, "You know what, Will? I really like your girlfriend."

Willow blushed. "Thanks, now, you… Riley… discussion. Let’s hear it."

Buffy proceeded to tell her friend all about what she and her ex-boyfriend had discussed and his not so favorable reaction. Willow gritted her teeth through it, held her friend when the tears threatened to fall again and had just one comment for Buffy when she was done. "He’s an ass, Buffy. I know you love him, but he’s an ass."

The slayer burst out laughing. "Thanks, Will. I needed that." She got up and started pacing around the room. "I loved him, Will. I trusted him with my secrets and he ripped my heart out. Why is it that all the men I date hurt me?"

"I don’t know, Buff. I kinda liked Riley too. That is, until he turned into Mr. Macho Military Dude," Willow said.

Buffy nodded sadly and returned to her bed. She rested her head on Willow’s shoulder. "Will, you think I’ll ever find real love?"

"Who says what you’ve had hasn’t been real?" Willow countered.

"Okay, real love that lasts forever, like in the fairy tales."

"I have no idea. I’m not even sure it exists," Willow said sadly.

"What about you and Tara? You two look pretty cozy… any happily ever afters there?"

Willow laughed. "I don’t know. We’ve just started our journey."

Buffy grinned. "Maybe I should start looking at the women instead of the men."

Willow’s heart skipped a beat. Oh Buffy, if you’d have said that to me three years ago… she thought, then looked over at Tara, who was studiously reading Fingaard’s Guide to Demon Heraldry and was overcome by a wash of love for the wiccan. I love you so much, Tara, she thought, smiling. Tara, perhaps sensing Willow’s thoughts, looked up from the book and smiled blindingly at her girlfriend.

"Woo, yeah, maybe I should look into the fairer sex if it creates reactions like that," Buffy said jokingly, letting go of Willow and pushing the girl onto her bed. Willow collapsed next to Tara, who caught and steadied her. "Okay, why don’t you get what you came for and run on back to Tara’s room. I’ll be okay."

"Are you sure?" Willow asked, standing up and heading over to her closet.

"Yup, I’m sure."

"Buffy, I-I’d like for Willow and I to do something for you before we go," Tara said, speaking for the first time.

"What’s that?" the slayer asked curiously.

"Heal your arm. I know the spell that can do it, and it won’t take long. Tomorrow, you can have the cast removed and be as good as new."

"I’m liking this idea. What’s the catch?"

Willow looked over at Tara and said, "Is this the spell I’m thinking of?" When Tara nodded, she said, "the catch is that it’s mighty painful. What she’s suggesting is a temporal hasting of the cells in your arm, Buffy."

"A whozawhatzis?" Buffy said confusedly.

Willow laughed and said, "Um, it’s kinda like pressing the fast-forward button for your cells."

"And this hurts?"

"Yes," Tara and Willow said simultaneously, and Tara added, "But I think because of your slayer abilities, you would be able to withstand it."

Buffy considered what they said for a few moments, then nodded. "Do it. Something tells me that I’m going to need both arms in perfect working order soon."

Tara stood up and went over to Willow. "Do you still have that book I loaned you?" she asked quietly.

"Yeah, it’s over there, on the desk. What about the doll’s eye? Don’t you need that to make the spell work? I sorta left it at your place…"

"Yeah, I do," Tara smiled, and took Willow’s hand. "Close your eyes," she said and when Willow did so, she began chanting softly. A soft pop exploded near Willow’s face and she jumped back, blinking her eyes open. The doll’s eye crystal sat on the top of her dresser.

"How… did… Did you just do a translocation spell?" she asked incredulously.

Tara nodded, "With your help, of course. I couldn’t have, without you."

Willow’s face went all gooey and she smiled. "Oh, well, that’s good then. Really good, right? I’ve never done that before and it was – neat," she said.

Tara leaned over and brushed her lips over the hacker’s cheek. "Love you, my babbler," she whispered.

The hacker’s smile spread until it appeared to consume her entire face. Buffy coughed loudly. "Um, guys, tired here. Can we do this?"

"Oh! Of course," Tara said, tearing her eyes away from Willow’s smile. "Why don’t you lay down, Buffy. It’ll be easier for you."

"Okay," Buffy said, laying down on her bed and getting comfortable. Tara picked up the crystal while Willow got the book, a couple of candles and a vial of oil. She placed the candles on the nightstands, lit them and then anointed Buffy’s forehead with the oil. Once she was done, Tara took the book and began chanting. The words made no sense, but the sound of them rose and fell like some odd birdsong. As Tara reached the end of the incantation, she reached for Willow’s hand, and together, they began chanting again. The third time through the spell, both wiccans reached for Buffy, laying their free hands on the slayer’s body.

A greenish-blue nimbus of energy gathered between the witches, rolling outward from their chests, down their arms and coalescing over Buffy’s prone form. As the final words of the chant were spoken, the energy melted into the slayer, then vanished. Willow and Tara broke apart and staggered to their knees.

"Um, guys? Nothing’s happen- oh my God!" Buffy screamed as the spell took effect. She grabbed her bed and started writhing around, whimpering in pain. Simultaneously, Willow and Tara reached for Buffy’s good hand. Tara beat Willow by just a fraction of an inch. Buffy clutched the wiccan’s hand while Willow raced to get a cold cloth to dab at the slayer’s now sweat-soaked brow.

"Hang on, Buffy," Willow whispered, stroking Buffy’s hair. "It won’t last long."

"This - is - worse than - neon orange mini skirts," Buffy said through gritted teeth. "I - should have said - no thanks," she added as she started trembling.

"Shh," the two wiccans soothed, lending Buffy their moral support.

"Easy for you to - say," Buffy panted. Suddenly, there was a loud pop, and Buffy bolted upright, tossing Willow and Tara aside like rag dolls. "Ow," she cried, tears bursting from her eyes. "Ow, ow, ow, oh ow, that hurt so bad, I can’t even scream about it."

Willow and Tara picked themselves up and crawled onto Buffy’s bed, taking the sobbing slayer into their arms for a group cuddle. "It’s all over," Tara said. "Tomorrow, we can cut the cast away."

"Oh good, I’d hate to think that was nothing more than you two trying your hand at S&M spells," Buffy quipped.

Willow turned crimson while Tara covered her mouth and giggled. "Buffy!" the hacker flicked her friend’s hair gently. "You’re so bad! That’s like not even me, or Tara!" Willow growled mock-menacingly.

Buffy smirked. "Oh? What about the wishverse you? I mean, we found out that the ‘kinda gay’ part was true, why not the rest?"

"Oh you!" Willow harrumphed, "If you weren’t all injury bearing Buffy, I’d have to challenge you to a tickle duel!"

"No, oh no! Not the dreaded tickle duel," Buffy mock-quivered, sitting up and drawing her knees up to her chest. "Anything but that!"

"Tickle duel? Sounds… intriguing," Tara said in a low, soft voice that made the hairs on Buffy’s neck stand up.

The slayer reached back and smoothed them down, then leaned over to whisper to a dumb struck Willow, "Y’know Will, I’m beginning to see what the attraction was."

"Uh-huh," Willow said, nodding, still staring at Tara.

The wiccan looked around, then said, "What? Have I suddenly sprouted a third eye?" and reached up to touch her face curiously.

Buffy laughed, "No, I don’t think that’s it at all, Tara. I think it has something to do with the oh-so-sexy vocal tones you reached a bit back."

Tara’s ears turned bright crimson and she clapped her hand over her mouth. Willow cocked her head to the side at that, then got up and walked around to where Tara was sitting and pulled the wiccan’s hand away from her mouth. "Don’t do that," she said.

A goofy smile perched on the corners of the wiccan’s mouth. "Why?" she asked softly.

"Because then I can’t do this," Willow said, kissing her. Then kissed her again, just for good measure.

Buffy stared at her friends for a moment before saying, "All right, I think we’ve reached the ‘get a room’ stage, ladies."

The two wiccans reluctantly parted, both surreptitiously wiping their mouths. "Um, sorry Buff. We’re going now. See, this is us, going," Willow said as she and Tara stood up and gathered a few things.

The slayer chuckled, "G’night ladies, and thank you, for the healing-thingy. I’m sure I’ll appreciate it more tomorrow."

"’Night, Buffy," Willow and Tara said, waving as they walked out the door.

***

"So, um, I guess um, this is my room," Cordelia said as she opened the door. Faith walked in and cased the room, casually opening the door to the bathroom and checking the lock on the door to Angel’s suite.

"Not bad," she said, after her inspection. "Safe enough, I guess," she added, with a smirk. "But I could get in, no problem," she bragged.

"Oh sure, it’d be oh so easy for you to just take out that eight foot mountain of muscle that calls itself a night watchman."

"Yeah, I could do it, easy," Faith said, hooking her thumbs into the belt loops of her jeans. "I’d just have to get a really big salt shaker."

Cordy was in the process of gathering her night clothes when Faith announced this. She turned around and looked the dark-haired slayer in the eye. "And that would accomplish, what, precisely? Besides giving you really high cholesterol."

Faith chuckled. "The night watchman’s a Stylogian demon. Salt’s pretty much the best way to handle ‘em."

"A what?"

"Big, giant slug," Faith summarized.

Cordelia, who was no stranger to childhood antics of salting slugs, grimaced. "Okay, ew. I’m sorry I asked."

Faith grinned and said, "Sorry sweet cheeks, I’ll try to remember your delicate stomach next time."

"Do that. I’m going to take a shower, and then, um, I guess I’m kinda tired so…"

Faith watched the actress as she struggled to speak, then decided that she’d tortured her enough. "I’ll take the couch, Cordy. Good night, and thanks," she said seriously, "for letting me stay. It means a lot to me."

Cordelia flushed slightly, then said, "Yeah, well, don’t get used to me being all nicey-nice just ‘cuz I let you spend the night."

"You got it, sweet cheeks," Faith replied, then stretched out on the couch and closed her eyes.

Cordy watch the slayer until the young woman’s breath started to fall into deep, even patterns. A lock of the slayer’s dark hair had drifted across her face and Cordelia wanted so badly to go over and just brush it out of the way. She took a few steps forward, then stopped herself.

"Snap out of it, Chase!" she muttered quietly, "It’s Faith, remember?"

After she’d gone into the bathroom, Faith opened her eyes and stared at the ceiling. So close… they’d been so close to … something. But what? she asked herself. You can’t actually think that she’d want to have a relationship with you, Faith. An inner voice that sounded too much like Mayor Wilkins’ jolly tone said.

The slayer rolled over and tucked her knees up against her chest. Yeah, I do… I really do, but I’m so scared…

***

Everyone gathered at Giles’ place the next day. Willow looked around at the various couples and noticed Buffy sitting alone on one of Giles’ barstools. The blonde slayer looked almost lost without the silent but strong presence of Riley behind her. Xander and Anya were sitting at the table, in the middle of a heated round of double solitaire. Giles and Joyce were in the kitchen, working on making lunch for the group. Buffy had called her mom the night before and told her about Giles’ parents, and Joyce had insisted in going right over to comfort him.

The watcher, while embarrassed at first, had been openly grateful at her presence when the entire gang had descended upon his apartment. Willow smiled, remembering how Mrs. Summers had handed Giles a towel and said, "Dry, I’ll wash," and tackled the dishes in the sink with a vengeance. Willow shifted, brushing her lips over Tara’s head, and sighed contentedly. She and Tara were snuggled up on one end of the couch while Cordelia and Faith sat precisely six inches apart on the other. Only Angel stood alone by the stairwell, looking at Buffy, an expression of deep sympathy on his face.

The blonde slayer sighed loudly, then said, "Okay, we’ve all sat around in our silent little worlds long enough. Will, didn’t you say that this," she tapped the battered cast lightly, "could come off today?"

"Oh yeah! Giles, do you have any razor blades?" Willow said.

"You aren’t gonna cut that off of with a razor blade, are you?" Faith asked, giving Willow a disbelieving look.

"No, it’s just a part of the spell. Actually, you’re going to break it off of her arm," Willow replied.

"What?" both slayers asked in unison.

"She’s gonna do what to my arm?" Buffy said nervously.

Willow grinned and stood up. "Relax, Buff. She’s just going to break the cast away."

"Um, why?" Faith asked, then added, "I mean, can’t you just wave a magic wand and make it go poof?"

The hacker raised an eyebrow at the dark-haired slayer and said, "No, I can’t. I need someone really strong to break it apart, and aside from Buffy, you’re the strongest person here."

"Oh, well, okay," Faith replied.

"It won’t hurt, will it? ‘Cuz after last night, I’m not looking forward to pain. Not that I ever did, look forward to pain that is, but last night really, really, and I mean, really hurt," Buffy said.

Giles stepped out of the kitchen while Joyce reached through the bar and gave Buffy’s hand a squeeze. "What ever did you do last night, Willow?"

"We cast a temporal acceleration spell to heal Buffy’s arm," Tara said, before Willow could reply. "I thought it would be best, because of Cordelia’s vision."

"Oh, well, I see. Yes, that would cause quite a bit of trauma, wouldn’t it?" Giles said, cupping his chin in his fingers. "Anyway, as to the razor blade, if you’ll just excuse me?" The watcher went into his bathroom and returned shortly with a doubled sided blade. Handing it to Willow he said, "Do be careful, it’s brand new and I’d hate for you to injure yourself."

The hacker cautiously took the blade from Giles, then went over to Buffy. Tara had already gotten up and taken some things out of a bag. Soon, there was a small brazier lit and producing a pungent, yet sweet smelling odor. Willow passed the blade through the smoke three times chanting, "Edge of steel, marked by fire, cut no flesh, yet break through stone."

"Nice, but it lacks true spark," Anya said, looking up from her game of solitaire.

"Everyone’s a critic," Willow retorted, drawing the edge of the blade down the side of Buffy’s cast. Amazingly, the thin metal cut right through the fiberglass, parting the material easily. "Okay, this part’s done, go ahead Faith."

The dark-haired slayer stepped up and put on hand on either side of the cut. "Wait," Buffy said, "Will, can’t you just cut through the other side, and you know, make it fall apart?"

Willow grinned sheepishly. "Sorry, Buff, no can do. The blade only works once." She held up the razor, which was now just barely a thin shard of metal.

"Well… make another!" Buffy blurted nervously, looking at Faith, who wore a confused expression.

"What’s the matter, B, don’tcha trust me?" Faith asked, trying to sound as though it didn’t matter.

"No, I mean, yes, I mean, I don’t know. Faith…" Buffy said, as the other slayer let go of Buffy’s cast and walked away. "I don’t know what to feel about you, I just don’t."

"Yeah, whatever B. I get it. Go ahead Red, make another one of those blade things and cut B out of that cast."

Willow cast a pleading glance at Giles, who apparently couldn’t make up his mind which slayer required his consoling more. Joyce continued to hold her daughter’s hand, while looking at Faith with knowing, concerned eyes. Xander slapped another card down and yelled, "Hah! Let’s see you get out of that one."

"Oh Xander, that’s so easy," Anya said, turning over three cards and finishing her pile out. The young man’s face fell and he buried his head in hands, mock crying. "There, there," Anya consoled. "You must remember that I’ve had about 100 years more practice at this than you." Xander let out more loud, fake sobs. Anya looked around and noticed the tension in the room. "Everyone’s uncomfortable, why? We’re just playing solitaire. It’s not like we decided to play strip poker or anything like that. Although, it is quite a fun game and Xander and I love to play," the former demon informed everyone gleefully. Xander moaned, this time for real.

Angel stepped forward and at the same time, Tara cleared her throat. Both of them said, "Buffy…" The vampire smiled and inclined his head to the witch.

Tara smiled, swallowed nervously and said, "Buffy, we understand your fear, but she won’t hurt you… it’s the last thing she’d ever want to do to you - or anyone here."

"And you know this because?" Buffy said, feeling quite irritable.

"I can feel it," Tara said softly, unable to meet the slayer’s eyes.

"She’s right, you know," Angel added.

"Oh, great, I’m supposed to trust the word of a vampire and a vamp hybrid? Wonderful!" Buffy snapped.

"Buffy!" Willow barked, giving her friend a hard stare. "Just what is your problem?"

The blonde slayer shook her head and stood up. "Nothing. Everything. I’m just feeling overwhelmed all of a sudden. I’m really sorry, everyone," she said contritely. She walked over to where Faith stood and put her good hand on the dark-haired slayer’s shoulder. "You too, Faith. I may not fully trust you - but I don’t distrust you either. I’ve got this weird, want-to-trust, but unsure-how-to trust thingy going on. Please, help me out of this damn cast, it’s driving me bonkers!"

Faith turned around and said, "You sure, B? ‘Cuz I don’t wanna get started and then have you chicken out on me."

Xander choked on his drink. "Oh you slayers with your double entendres!" he said, wiping his mouth, "You are so with the making Xander blush groove, aren’t you?"

Buffy and Faith both laughed, remembering past pranks they’d pulled on their friend. "But Xander, you’re just so easy to get to," Buffy said while Faith wrapped her hands around the cast.

"Yeah, and besides," Faith added, giving the fiberglass a sharp tug, "we wouldn’t do it if we didn’t love you."

"Oh, yeah, feeling the love here," Xander said as he watched the dark-haired slayer easily break the cast off of Buffy’s arm. The blonde slayer rubbed the freed limb gratefully.

"Thank you," she said softly as Faith tossed the fiberglass remains into a trash can.

"No problem, B," Faith replied, then lightly punched the other slayer’s arm. "See, I can do the nice stuff too." It was meant to be a joke, but it came out flat and everyone in the room sort of just coughed and nodded. "Um, yeah, I guess, when I’m not being Miss Evil Bitch of the Century, huh?" she added, laughing weakly.

"Give up, these people have no sense of humor," Anya advised. "They still haven’t gotten over the fact that I used to be a Vengeance demon." She sighed, "Those were the days. The diseases, the eviscerations, the beheadings… there was so much pain to cause and so few humans to work with."

"But you’re not going to do that anymore, are you Anya-my-sweet?" Xander asked nervously, wrapping his arm around her.

"Of course not!" she said, tilting her head up to kiss him.

"Oh good!" Xander replied, smiling happily.

"I’m not a demon anymore, how could I possibly do all that and still have time for sex with you?" she added, causing Xander to groan.

"Hey B, I think she’s got us beat in the blush department with the X-man," Faith said as she sat down next to Cordelia again.

"Yeah, I think you’re right. Guess we’ll just have to try a little harder next time," Buffy replied as she perched on a barstool. Xander paled and Anya patted him on the back consolingly.

"Well, just remember, he’s mine and you can’t have him," the former demon said as they sat back down on the floor.

"Gotcha," Faith said. "Anyway, okay B, what’s the plan? Do we just go in and do mass damage, or what?"

Shattering glass startled everyone into action. Buffy leaped for the weapons locker, Willow and Tara hit the floor, Giles pulled Joyce behind him, Xander hid behind Anya and Faith pulled Cordy down to the floor, covering the actress with her own body. Angel ducked into a shadow as daylight streamed in through a broken window. When nothing manifested, Buffy went to investigate.

Holding a battle axe, she bent over a brick that had a note tied around it. Opening it, she read the contents, then commented, "Well, I’ll say this for the demon – he’s not very original. It’s the old, ‘toss a brick through the window to tell the good guys where to have the final showdown routine’. God bless him for being dumb, I hate doing research."

She handed the note to Giles, who read it and then said, "Willow, would you happen to have that computer disk Adam gave to Tara?"

"Yeah, it’s right here," Willow said, helping Tara back up onto the couch, then reaching into her bag to pull out her laptop and a disk box. "I couldn’t read anything on it because it was encrypted – I was going to work on that after the meeting."

"I suggest you take a look at it again. Our friend Adam has encouraged us to utilize his ‘gift’ to Tara," Giles said.

Willow nodded and booted up her laptop, then put the disk in. She clicked on the floppy drive icon and the disk began to run. Encryption data spilled over the screen and a clock appeared. A countdown of 24 hours appeared, then files of information opened. The hacker let out a sigh. "You know, it’s just no fun when they decrypt themselves. I was looking forward to working on it, too!"

"Well now you’ve got some free time," Buffy said, flicking a glance at Tara. "I’m sure you can come up with something to occupy yourself?" the slayer added, smirking.

Tara turned bright pink, then busied herself with reading over Willow’s shoulder. "Look at that," she said, pointing to a map schematic that had just appeared, along with some kind of inventory listing.

"That looks like the Initiative headquarters," Buffy said, as she looked. "Yeah, there’s the Lowell House entrance… but, what’s this?" she pointed to a new access tunnel. Willow clicked on it and information about a secret lab was displayed. "Well, looks like Adam’s been right under our noses," the slayer groused. More maps appeared, including one of the university campus where an old forensic science lab was highlighted. It was the building where they’d rescued Willow from the other day. A crudely drawn in tunnel led from the university lab to the lab in the Initiative Bunker.

Faith looked it over, as well as the lists of demons that Adam had "studied" and said, "Well, looks like your cyborg is getting ready to go into production. Didn’t Riley mention that the Initiative’s cells were packed to capacity?"

"Yeah," Buffy said, catching on, "Demons plus Humans equals cyborg army." She rolled her eyes. "Typical. And here I thought Adam might be interested in more than mayhem. Guess I was wrong."

"Guess so," Faith nodded, agreeing. "So, I figure we go in here," Faith pointed to an access tunnel that led to a river, "and either knock out or recruit as many of the commando boys as we can, and then work our way to Adam’s little hidey hole, then put an end to the son of a bitch."

Buffy stood up and shook Faith’s hand. "Sounds like a plan to me," she said.

"Buffy, it’s a good plan and all," Willow said, looking up at her friend, "but just how exactly are you going to kill Adam? He’s got that uranium power supply and all…"

Buffy crossed her arms and cocked her head to the side, "Oh pooh! And here I was happy with the mass slayage idea. You were happy with that plan, weren’t you Faith?"

"Five by five, B, all the way," Faith nodded, "but Red’s got a point. I’ve done my fair share of slayage, but I’ve never had to deal with something that could turn Sunnydale into a radioactive crater."

"Something tells me that blowing him up isn’t the answer, either," Xander said while shuffling his cards. "Does anyone here miss the simple guys like the Master who died when you staked them?" Giles raised his hand sheepishly while everyone laughed.

"W-we could always do an immobilization spell s-so Buffy and F-faith could kick his a-ass," Tara suggested.

"See, I knew Willow’s new orgasm buddy would be useful," Anya said proudly.

"Isn’t that spell in Gaelic?" Willow asked.

Tara nodded, "B-but I know Gaelic, or at least, I know the spell. Gran taught it to me."

Giles was pacing, cradling his chin in his hand as he thought. "Yes, if we can somehow paralyze Adam, it might be possible for Buffy or Faith to remove the power source, and then we can open a small dimensional portal and teleport the device somewhere where it’ll do no harm," he finally said. "I think there’s a spell in Watnell’s Grimoire…"

"Finlay’s," Tara said softly, walking over to Giles’ bookshelf and pulling out an ancient and battered tome. "Watnell’s won’t work because it’s a mistranslation of Finlay to begin with."

"Oh yes, quite right, what was I thinking," Giles muttered, taking the book from Tara and absently flipping through the pages.

"Okay, who’s ready for some spaghetti?" Joyce chimed from the kitchen. Bodies raced to the table as plates were set down. Only Angel and Giles remained in the living room, reading through spell books and talking quietly about spell components.

***

That evening, Tara walked Willow back to her dorm. "I just think it’s better if I stay with Buffy tonight," Willow said, squeezing Tara’s hand tightly. "Not that I don’t want to be with you, no, of course not! I love you Tara," she said softly, leaning over and brushing her lips over the wiccan’s cheek.

Tara nodded, "I know, and you should be with Buffy tonight. She needs you."

Willow smiled happily. "I’m so glad you understand, thank you."

"I love you, too," Tara mumbled, squeezing Willow’s hand in return.

They walked through the doors of Stevenson Hall, and up the stairs to Willow’s door. "I guess this is my stop," Willow said, once they’d arrived.

"Yeah," Tara said, not releasing the hacker’s hand just yet. "I suppose this is where I um, kiss you good night?"

A goofy grin rippled across Willow’s face. "I think I’d like that, I mean, I’d love to invite you in…"

"No, that’s all right," Tara said, then closed the distance between them to gently kiss her girlfriend good-bye.

"Mmm," Willow said, "I liked that," then leaned up for another, longer kiss. They hugged, then Tara turned to go. Willow held on to Tara’s hand until their arms could no longer bridge the distance between them, then waved.

Buffy was sitting on her bed, rubbing the arm where the cast had been. She looked up when Willow walked in.

"Will? I wasn’t expecting you tonight," she said, noting the absence of Tara with a raised eyebrow. "How come you’re not snuggling your woman?"

Willow smiled and sat down on the bed next to her friend. "Because I’ve got a friend who needs me," she said, opening her arms wide. Buffy leaned over and hugged her.

"You didn’t have to, you know. I’m fine," the slayer said, blinking back tears.

Willow pulled back and looked her friend in the eye. "Buffy, see this?" she pointed to her face, "this is my ‘listening face’ and that’s what I’m here for, so talk."

Buffy chuckled and got up to change into her pajamas. Amy, their friend who’d accidentally turned herself into a rat, was snoring away in her cage and Buffy noted that she’d need to clean it out soon. Willow was also looking through her clothing for something to sleep in.

"Don’t do that, Will," Buffy chastised as the hacker pulled out an old tee-shirt and shorts to wear.

"Why? I’m not sleeping in my day clothes, because day clothes aren’t night clothes…"

"No, no, no," Buffy interrupted, walking over and taking the clothing from her friend, "You’re marching right over to Tara’s dorm and spending the night in her arms. I’ll - be - fine," she enunciated carefully, giving Willow her best "resolve face".

"Are you sure?" Willow asked, not wanting to leave, but also wanting to be with Tara at the same time.

Buffy hugged the hacker again and nodded. "Yes, I’m okay, got my crying all done and all that. I just need to sleep – build up that old Slayer strength for tomorrow."

Willow reluctantly put her clothes down. "Well," she said, walking toward the door, "If you’re sure…"

"I’m sure, go!" Buffy gave the hacker a little nudge. "Thanks, Will, I love you, you know that, right?"

Willow nodded and hugged Buffy tightly, "I love you too, you’re my best friend."

"Mine too," Buffy replied, then smacked Willow lightly on the butt, "Now go, and give your woman a big hug from me."

Willow smiled and said, "I will," then left. Buffy sat down on the bed and waited. Sure enough, two minutes later, the door opened again and Willow poked her head in. "Buffy, are you really, really sure?"

"Willow," she said warningly, tossing a stuffed animal at the door.

"I’m gone," Willow said, closing the door again. The slayer smiled. It was nice to know that her friend cared, but really, she needed some alone time. Time to think. Time to let go and time to cry. Buffy’s eyes misted over.

Amy the rat decided to wake up just then and started protesting the condition of her food bowl, which was empty. Buffy wiped her eyes and looked up at the cage, chuckling a little. "I guess no one’s thought to feed you recently, have they Amy?" she said, walking over and pulling the rat out of her cage and putting her on the bed.

The animal chittered gratefully, running around the expanse of bed for several minutes while Buffy cleaned out the cage. Amy finally tired and collapsed in a little furry heap in the center of Buffy’s bed. The slayer put the newly cleaned cage back on its shelf then opened their little refrigerator to see what kind of goodies they had. Some carrots and lettuce were quickly mixed up in a small dish and placed before the grateful rat, who chowed down like she hadn’t eaten in weeks.

Buffy sat next to Amy while she ate, gently stroking the rat from head to tail. "After this stuff with Adam is taken care of, I promise we’ll do something about getting you back, Amy," she whispered. The rat stopped eating long enough to turn her head around and look at the slayer, then went back to eating. When she was through, Buffy set the dish aside and laid down, while Amy crawled up onto her chest.

"Oh Amy," Buffy said, as tears trickled down the sides of her face, "I really liked Riley. I thought we’d be together forever. It was so perfect…"

The rat, not exactly understanding what was happening, but knowing that someone she cared for was upset, nudged her nose up under Buffy’s chin and curled up, hugging close to the slayer with all her ratly ability. Buffy wiped her face and laughed.

"Thanks, Amy," she said, petting the animal tenderly. "You’re a pretty good friend for a rat."

Amy just sighed and began to snore.

***

Spike was lying on the floor of his cell when the light flashed once, briefly. That was his signal from Adam that today was the day. He stood up and quietly starting passing the word to his cohorts.

"Today… it’s happening today," was whispered around the cell blocks as previously quiescent demons began bouncing off the walls. Spike himself just pulled out his second to last cigarette and struck a match, cocking his head to the side and puffing smoke rings as the chaos erupted around him.

"Now this is bloody more like it," he said as two of his cellmates – hellhounds – began circling each other and taking experimental jabs at the other’s hide.

From his headquarters, Adam concurred with Spike’s statement. "It begins," he said, shutting down his equipment and gathering those few of his henchmen he had left, including two very special additions that he had just recently added.

"Come, mother, father," he said to two grotesque parodies of humanity that once bore the names of Professor Maggie Walsh and Doctor Jonas Engleman. Both humans were now cyborgs, though their eyes were absolutely devoid of anything resembling conscious thought. Tubes carrying strangely colored liquids encased their bodies and they moved stiffly, as though some of their joints had frozen. "We have work to do."

Silently, the two demonoid drones followed their creator.

***

It was an anxious group that met the next evening at Giles’ place. Joyce Summers did her best to send the group off with a good meal, but most of them picked at the wonderful meal Buffy’s mother had prepared. Only Xander and Faith ate with any gusto, looking around at the rest, then sharing a look and a shrug that said, "well, if they aren’t gonna eat, then that’s all the more for us" and proceeded to dig in even deeper.

"Well, I see that my efforts weren’t completely wasted," Joyce commented, pushing her own meal around the plate with a fork. She sighed and laid the utensil down, then reached across the table to grab her daughter’s hand. "Buffy," she started to say, but the blonde slayer shook her head.

"Mom, don’t. Not now. I can’t afford to…" she rubbed her eyes with the back of her free hand and sighed. "Please?"

Joyce nodded and silently squeezed her hand. "I’m staying here," she announced, to the profound relief of the rest of the group. "I don’t have superpowers, I can’t fight worth a damn and I’m not that keen on becoming a target. So, I’m staying here and minding the fort. There will be hot chocolate and cookies for everyone when you get home," she stressed "when", giving the group a long look that told each person there that if they didn’t come home, she would hunt them down and haunt them.

Giles pulled off his glasses and wiped them, then cleared his throat. "Okay, here is our plan: Tara, Willow, Anya, Cordelia and myself will be the spell casters. Buffy, Faith, Angel and Xander will…"

"Kick major demon butt!" Xander enthused, waving his chosen weapon, a rebuilt blaster, in the air fervently.

"Yes, I think that’s quite apt," Giles agreed with a grimace.

Cordelia harumphed. "How’d I get lumped in with the wicca-chicks? I can’t speak Latin to save my E Purple-blue You-know," she said, tossing her hair back out of her face.

"We need five people to complete the pentacle," Tara said quietly, looking at Cordy and smiling faintly. "You won’t have to speak Latin, I’ve translated the spell to English. All you’ll have to do is chant your part."

"Think of it as reading for a really good movie role, sweet cheeks," Faith said.

"Oh! I can do that," Cordy brightened. "Do I get to look my script - I mean the spell - over?"

"We don’t have time, Cordelia," Giles said as he stood up. Everyone pushed themselves away from the table and exchanged uncomfortable glances.

"Let’s kick some butt," Buffy said, picking up her bag of weapons. "Anyone for a movie night later? I know I will be."

"Sounds great to me," Faith said as the others nodded in agreement.

They all walked outside to the various vehicles they’d arrived in. Xander took a moment to drool over Faith’s truck while Faith drooled over the motorcycle parked in front of it.

"Whose ride is this?" she asked, caressing the paint on the gas tank.

Tara held up a helmet as Willow strapped her own on. "It’s mine," the wiccan smiled.

"Rock on," Faith said, smirking at the two girls who easily mounted the bike and settled into a comfortable riding position. "Maybe you’ll let me ride it later?" she asked wistfully.

"Sure," Tara smiled.

"Awesome," Faith returned the smile, then got into her truck. Cordelia was waiting for her. "You’re not riding with Angel?" the dark-haired slayer asked.

"No way! Why would I want any part of my last hours on this earth to be spent with morose boy?" Cordy responded.

Faith raised her eyebrows. "Last hours? You planning on dying anytime soon?"

Cordelia shrugged. "Well, this is the big battle we’re all putting on our white hats and racing out to. Tradition does state that someone has to die, and since I’m the least important of our little Superfriends group, likely it’ll be me that bites it. I’m actually kind of relieved about it. I mean, at least then I won’t be stuck with all those darn vis-"

Faith had turned to look at Cordy as she spoke and suddenly she grabbed the actress and shook her. "Don’t - you - ever - say - that - again. You are so important, Cordelia Chase!" she nearly shouted.

"Faith!" Cordy squeaked, causing the slayer to let go of her.

"I’m sorry!" Faith said, turning her head away as tears threatened to overwhelm her hard-won control. "I just don’t want to hear you talk about dying. If anyone is going to die tonight, it’ll be me. I don’t deserve to live."

"Oh, right. Now who's the one who needs a good shaking?" Cordy said acidly. Faith sighed, but did not look at the actress, instead she turned the key and started the truck. That seemed to be a signal as the others also started their vehicles.

The strange procession moved slowly through the streets of Sunnydale, trying not to attract too much attention. When they got to the university campus, they all parked in different places, then met near Adam’s old headquarters. The lab was dark and abandoned looking, a theory that proved true when Buffy and Faith broke the chains holding the doors shut. Inside, the place looked as though it hadn’t been inhabited in years, instead of just hours.

Using a printout of the map on Adam’s disk, they found the entrance to the tunnel the cyborg had dug to the Initiative bunker. It had been completely sealed over. Buffy kicked the wall while Faith said, "Looks like we try plan B, B."

"There is no plan B, Faith," Buffy groused. They’d already checked the area marked on the map as a river access - it too was completely blocked off.

"There is now," the other slayer said with a smirk. "Why don’t we just march right in on Colonel What’s-his-name and tell him all about Adam’s little secret?"

"Oh, yeah, that’d work," Buffy replied sarcastically.

"It was just a suggestion," Faith said, holding up her hands defensively.

"I know a way in," Angel said in his quiet fashion. All eyes turned to the vampire. He nodded toward the floor. "Follow me."

The group followed him outside and to a sewer access. "I use the sewers in Los Angeles to get around during the day. Before coming back to Sunnydale," he said, lifting up a grill and climbing down, then waiting for the others to join him, "I looked up a few old blueprints. These tunnels should take us right under Lowell House, and probably to the bunker."

Buffy was the last one in, and when she jumped away from the ladder and landed lightly, with only a small splash into the ankle deep water, she wrinkled her nose. "I’m not liking the squishies between the toes this place gives me, Angel," she said in a tone of disgust.

"Sorry about that," Angel replied, but he didn’t sound it. The vampire looked around to orient himself, then nodded toward a tunnel. "It’s this way," he said, heading off quickly. The others followed.

A short time later, they came to a gate, behind which there was a ladder and presumably access to the Initiative. The gate was locked with some kind of sophisticated looking code box.

"Judging from the security measures," Faith said, tapping her finger on the plastic of the code box, "I’d say we found the place. Red, here’s where you get to shine," she smiled at the hacker and stepped away.

Willow grinned back nervously and walked up to the gate, pulling a penlight out of her pocket and turning it on for better light. The input pad was a standard ten key pad, with a few esoteric additions, one of which was a thumbprint reader. Silently, Willow waved Tara over. The wiccans conferred in quiet whispers before Willow reached into the waist pack that Tara wore and removed a band-aid, a pencil and a pen knife. With quick, efficient strokes Willow shaved some of the lead of the pencil over the scanning pad, smiling in satisfaction when the particles stuck. She used the adhesive portion of the band-aid to gently cover the lead.

Xander whistled at Willow’s actions. "Who’d have thought that our Will was MacGuyver in disguise," he whispered to Anya, who gave him a blank look. "Never mind," Xander said, turning to watch Willow’s next move.

The next thing Willow pulled out of Tara’s pack was a palmtop computer that had been a gift from Buffy on her last birthday. She’d been nearly prostrate with gratitude and curiosity over how Buffy could afford such a magnanimous gift when the slayer had casually informed her that she’d liberated the device from Professor Walsh’s inventory before she’d lost her clearance. The hacker pulled out two special leads and connected the palmtop to the code box and started her decryption software.

Numbers began to roll across the display portion of the unit and the gang held their breath for the two minutes it took for the computer to discover the five digit code. It beeped and Willow gently depressed the thumbscanner, hoping that the mock print would work. A soft click heralded her success.

***

Adam watched the gang enter the bunker through the bank of monitors while the cyborg Walsh and Engleman readied the surgical tables. Already he had several freezers full of demon parts, he just needed a few dead humans to complete his army.

"Just a little longer," he said, reaching down to pick up the shattered remains of a computer disk and study it. Pity that hadn’t worked out, he decided, he would have enjoyed adding the Rosenberg girl to his forces.

On another monitor, Riley and his team drilled until they were dripping with sweat. Adam reached over his instrument rack and flipped a switched. "It’s time you came home, Brother," he rumbled as Riley snapped up and blankly walked away from his team, completely ignoring their questions.

Colonel MacNamera looked up from his plans and barked something at the commando, but Riley never stopped, never looked back as he opened the door marked "314" and vanished inside.

A few minutes later, Adam turned around and said, "So glad you could make it, Brother."

"I’m here, what do you want?" Riley said defiantly, jaw clenching in undisguised anger.

"Be at ease, Brother. All shall be made clear to you in time," Adam said, standing up to walk over to Riley and examine him.

"I don’t feel very peaceful around Hostile Subterraneans," Riley grated, following Adam with his eyes, as his body decided not to function properly.

"I believe you would attack me, if you could," Adam said casually.

"You bet I would," Riley snapped.

"What good would that do, Brother? You cannot harm me. Mother made sure of that," Adam chided.

"You are not my brother," Riley said through clenched teeth.

"Are we not both products of Maggie Walsh’s design?" Adam said with a slight smile. When Riley didn’t reply, Adam smiled. "No matter. Sit, watch and learn."

Not of his own volition, Riley sat down on a nearby chair and watched as Adam walked over to a computer terminal and typed something out. One of the monitors switched over to follow Forrest as he exited the bunker to Lowell House with a small team of commandos. Riley was enough of a lip reader to figure out that his friend had gone searching for him when they hadn’t been able to find him in the 314 labs. Adam picked up a phone and made a soft call.

"Now we will wait," Adam said as Riley glared at him.

Fifteen minutes later a Pyros demon dragged in a kicking and struggling Forrest. Adam looked up and nodded. The demon let the commando go and Forrest sprang forward, seeing Riley only at the last minute.

"Riley! Back me up, man!" he yelled, firing his blaster at Adam. The cyborg grinned hugely as the energy pulsed through him.

"Thank you, I needed that," he said, extending his arm and willing the Polgara demon’s spike to extrude from it’s sheath, then grabbed the commando by the shoulder and skewered him through the heart. He then looked at Riley who was fighting for all he was worth to stand. "Now you will see the extent of my power, brother," Adam said as a door opened up to admit Walsh and Engleman. Walsh carried an impressive tray of tools while Engleman administered an injection to Forrest’s not yet cool body.

Adam hefted Forrest’s corpse onto a table while Walsh set up the tray of tools nearby. Riley watched in sick fascination as his friend was summarily carved up then put back together again with parts from various drawers around the lab. Sickened, he asked, "Is this what you plan to do to me?"

The demonoid looked up from a drawer of arms and said, "No Brother, you should know that you were meant for greater things. Come here and look at these," he ordered, and Riley had no choice but to obey.

"What have you done to me," he whispered as his legs jerkily carried him over to the cyborg.

"I did nothing, it was Mother who changed you. I only initiated your chip so that I could communicate with you. Now, which of these do you think should be integrated into Forrest?" he gestured to a pile of demonic body parts.

With an effort of will, Riley tore his eyes away from the gruesome collection at his feet to look at Adam. "I think you should have more respect for the dead, Brother," Riley spat the word.

Adam touched Riley’s chest briefly. "You have more spirit than I had originally thought, Brother. How wonderful. You will make a fine general in my army. You may return to your seat."

Stiffly, Riley turned around and walked back to the chair, where he sat and watched as Walsh and Engleman transformed Forrest.

***

Silently, Buffy’s group crept passed unused labs and headed toward the main portion of the Initiative bunker. Just as they rounded a corner to enter the door to 314 though, they were stopped by a group of blaster-armed commandos led by Colonel MacNamera.

"I cannot believe your arrogance in coming here, girl," he said walking up to Buffy and staring down at her.

"I go where the big bad goes, Colonel," Buffy said off-handedly, shrugging.

"Is that a fact?" he sneered, circling around the group and looking each of them up and down. "What a wonderful bunch of misfits you’ve gathered around yourself, Summers," he said, stopping in front of Angel. "An HST, Vampire Class. Bag him, boys," he nodded at Graham and his men, who moved in on the vampire.

"Do it and I will personally make sure that you never urinate properly again," Faith growled, stepping up.

"Ah, Faith, the other ‘Slayer’," MacNamera said, moving to stand in front of her. "Also a murderer. Arrest her boys, I believe I owe a the chief of police here a favor." None of his men moved as Faith cocked an eyebrow at them. Apparently, word had gotten out about her. MacNamera turned to look at his men. "Well, what are you, a bunch of women? Take them. They’re all under arrest."

"What are you going to do about Adam," Willow piped up.

"I will deal with the escapee in my own good time, young lady," he barked.

"Not if he deals with you first," Buffy said, putting her hands on her hips. "I have had just about enough of your less than military intelligent ways, Big Mac, so here’s the deal. Adam’s already here, and I am going to stop him and you can either help me, or get the hell out of my way."

"You go girl," Faith and Cordy said simultaneously, then looked at each other and blushed.

Colonel MacNamera’s face turned dark crimson as he suppressed his anger. "You will not speak to an officer of the United States Marine Corps that way young lady," he barked. "From now on, you will be silent, or I will have you silenced, is that understood? You’re on my territory now and what I say goes."

Buffy stepped up to the commando and met his eyes. "You’re so far away from ‘your territory’, Colonel, that I doubt you’ll ever find your way back," she said in a deathly silent voice. The lights went out.

Seconds later, a generator kicked on, illuminating the bunker in a soft bluish glow. MacNamera lifted up his com unit and barked, "Reynolds, what the hell is going on?"

Crackling fuzz was the only answer he got. "Form up and escort our prisoners to the control room, Graham," MacNamera ordered.

Minutes later, they were inside of a computer filled room. The men who were usually on duty were no where to be found. Two soldiers sat down and activated computer screens, calling up information. "Someone has cut the power, sir," one reported.

"We’re locked in, as well," reported the other, gesturing to a screen that displayed a map of the bunker. "All external locks are sealed."

A curious sound echoed throughout the bunker, then a roar of triumph followed it. "Dear God in heaven," MacNamera whispered as he watched the map on the screen go green in the holding block area. "You and you," he pointed to the two at the terminals, "Stay here and watch these people. They are prisoners. The rest of you are with me," he said unholstering his service sidearm and chambering a round.

"What happened," Willow whispered.

"All the internal doors were unlocked," Tara whispered back, eyes half shut as her senses picked up the unmistakable odor of fresh blood. She flicked a glance at Angel, whose nostrils were flaring. He could sense it too.

As soon as MacNamera left, Buffy and Faith quickly took out the two guards. "Okay Will, tell me what the what is."

Willow sat down at a terminal and began to type. A few minutes later, she said, "It looks like Adam has begun his little plan. All the demons have been freed and it’s a war zone out there."

"Great. Okay, that little secret lab of his, it’s somewhere near 314, right?"

"Yeah, I think the disk said that it was an offshoot of that lab," Willow said.

"All right, we’ll make for that area then. You guys can do your spell there while the rest of us duck in and start shooting."

Giles leaned down and relieved one of the unconscious soldiers of his blaster, while Buffy liberated a wicked looking axe from her duffel bag. Faith chose a stake and a short sword. The two soldiers were then hidden inside of a vent shaft. "Are we ready?" Buffy asked, at everyone’s nod, she said, "okay, let’s go!"

Single file, they exited the control room. Buffy took point, Faith took rear and Xander covered the middle. They ducked flying bodies, dodged bullets and explosions when they could. Buffy and Faith did more than their share of slaying of demons as they ran, and Giles and Xander got the rest. Even Cordelia took out a demon by the simple expediency of slipping and falling just as one was about to leap on her, causing it to miss and land wrong, breaking its neck.

"Cordelia!" Faith yelled, leaping to the actress’ side and helping her up tenderly.

"I’m okay, let’s just keep going," Cordy yelled over the fighting.

They continued on. A soldier on an overturned golf cart screamed and started wildly firing his M-16. "Willow!" Tara shouted, diving toward her girlfriend and taking her down as the fear-crazed commando fired at the hacker. Bullets strafed the ground as Tara’s momentum carried them out of the way. The wiccan winced as one caught her in the calf, but she kept them both down until the sound of gunfire faded off. Then she struggled to stand, grateful when Giles was there with a silent hand. "Thanks," she said, turning to assist Willow.

The hacker dragged herself upright, then noticed the blood that streaked down Tara’s leg. "You’re hurt," she said, pointing.

"It’s okay," Tara said, starting to follow Buffy, who’d stopped to wait for them.

"But…" Willow said, then stopped, understanding fully just what Tara was, and how different it truly made her.

"It still hurts," Angel said softly as he walked beside her, stepping out of the shadows. "We still feel the pain of the injury, we just don’t suffer the consequences."

Willow nodded, then raced to catch up to her girlfriend.

***

They made it to the lab behind door the door marked 314. Angel and Xander barricaded the door while Buffy and Faith searched for the secret entrance. Once they found, it, there was a silent round of good-byes as everyone hugged everyone else tightly.

"Okay, how long will it take for the paralyzation thingy to take effect," Buffy asked

"About five minutes after you’ve touched him," Tara said as she and Giles chalked out a pentacle on the floor. Willow dug out a sheaf of papers and handed one to Cordy, one to Anya, kept one for herself and laid the other two next to Giles and Tara. The wiccan pulled out a vial of some greenish oil and opened it, pouring out half the contents into Buffy’s hands and rubbing it in while chanting softly. Amazingly, the stuff was absorbed by Buffy’s skin. Next, she did Faith.

"What’s this stuff do?" Faith asked, watching in fascination as the almost jelly like oil vanished into her skin.

"It’s a receptor for the spell," Tara said, turning to sprinkle a dusting of herbs into the brazier that Giles had unpacked from Buffy’s duffel and had just lit. "You’ll notice a bit of a tingle when the spell has taken effect. Strike him then, if you can, the rest is up to the magick."

"Very cool," Faith said, then turned to Cordelia. "I guess I’ll see you later, sweet cheeks. How about dinner sometime?"

Cordy looked up from studying the paper she’d been given. She met the dark-haired slayer’s stormy brown eyes and smiled slightly. "It’ll have to be someplace really nice, Faith. I’m not someone who’s happy with McDonalds," she said by way of an answer.

"You got it, sweet cheeks," Faith smiled, then turned to look at Buffy. "Ready, B?"

"Oh yeah!" She and Faith moved a bookshelf that blocked the entrance to the secret labs out of the way and Angel opened the door. They stepped through and were just about to head toward Adam’s secret lab when a scream of agony was heard coming from another hallway. Buffy’s head snapped back toward the group they were leaving behind, but they were safe, getting into position to cast the spell. "Check it out," she ordered Xander and Angel, nodding toward another hallway that branched away.

"Right," Xander said, hefting the blaster and taking one last look at Anya. Angel looked long and hard into Buffy’s eyes, then, satisfied, he left, following Xander.

"Guess it’s just you and me, B," Faith said.

"That’s all it will take, Faith," Buffy said grimly as she made her way toward a hatch.

***

Walsh and Engleman had finished Forrest and were activating him when Riley came out of a strange euphoric sleep. Sometime during the operation, Adam had looked over at him and said, "Rest, Brother," and he’d closed his eyes and gone into a deep, dreamless sleep. They’d moved him while he slept. Now he was sitting in some kind of horrific parody of a barber’s chair, only instead of a neck rest, there was some kind of immobilizing contraption for his head.

Adam was no where to be seen. Riley watched with sad eyes as the woman he once knew as Maggie Walsh moved about the room in a pantomime of life, gathering whatever tools she needed to work on her latest project. Across the room, a bank of monitors showed the state of violence that had erupted inside of the Initiative compound.

Spike arrived just then, whistling a jaunty tune. "Right then, Adam? You around, Mr. Bits? I’m here for my chipectomy," he sing-songed cheerfully. "And the handy sunblock, if you’ve got it."

Adam walked in, frowning. "Spike," he said displeased. "I did not call for you just yet."

Spike shrugged and lit his last cigarette. "So what. I’m here, now pay up. I got you what you wanted."

"Not just yet. You must be patient," Adam rumbled. "Observe," he added, nodding to Walsh and Engleman, who did something to their patient.

Forrest sat up and blinked, then stood and stretched.

A single tear crept down Riley’s cheek. "Forrest," he whispered.

The newly awakened cyborg grinned and looked at Adam. "Father," he said, bowing low. "I live to serve you."

Adam smiled. "Excellent."

"Oh, I’m just choked up at this little family reunion," Spike said, touching his eye briefly. "I think I got a little tear in me eye," he smirked.

"Is this a private party," Faith’s voice cut into Spike’s sarcasm.

"Or can anyone come?" Buffy added, as the two slayers slid down a ladder into the lab.

"And now the gang’s all here," Spike said.

Adam shoved Spike at the two slayers and ducked out of the room while Forrest grinned. "I always wanted to go a few rounds with your woman, Riley. Looks like I’ll get that chance now," he said, flexing his arms. Spike took one look at the situation and bolted.

Riley strained to stand, to speak, anything. Buffy noticed him for the first time and looked over at her ex, sadness in her eyes. "Riley? What are you doing here?"

Forrest grinned, a malicious grimace that twisted his lips and revealed a double row of metallic teeth. "Soldier boy came a-running at his master’s call," he taunted, sauntering up to Buffy. "Adam’s gonna remake him in his image so that he’ll never question his world again."

"I’m sensing some issues here, B," Faith said casually, giving Forrest the once-over.

"Issues?" the newly made demonoid said. "I’ll show you issues," he growled, suddenly striking out at Buffy, catching her on the chin with a hard smack. "That’s for taking Riley away from his family," he said.

"Some family," Buffy retorted, kicking Forrest in the chest.

"Yeah, gives dysfunctional a whole new meaning," Faith added, rabbit punching the demonoid in the face and rocking him back. The dark-haired slayer flipped over him and looked at Riley. "Yo, Riley! Commando Boy! Get up and do the commando thing!" she snapped her fingers in his face. He didn’t even flinch. "Hey B, I think they drugged him or something," she said.

Buffy grunted something unintelligible in reply as Forrest and her traded blows around the lab. Faith looked up in time to see Walsh and Engleman approaching her with a syringe filled with some kind of yellowish liquid.

"Oh no, you ain’t sticking me with that thing," Faith said, kicking out at Engleman’s hand and sending the syringe flying. "I hate needles," she added, reaching out and tossing the doctor toward Forrest, who grunted when the other demonoid bounced off of him. She reached for Walsh and ripped the tubes that fed the former doctor life giving fluids out of her body. Walsh’s body trembled and jerked, then toppled over sideways.

Forrest used Buffy’s momentary distraction to grab the slayer and fling her down on a table. "You’re not so tough now, bitch, are you?" he growled as he slapped her around.

Faith dispatched Engleman quickly and was just reaching for Forrest when she heard a deep growl. Turning, she came face to face with a Pyros demon in full flame. A corona of brilliantly flickering fire encircled the seven foot tall demon’s head and his eyes glowed a fiery orange.

"Oh this is going to hurt," Faith said, ducking out of the way of the demon’s hands, knowing that if they connected with her flesh, they’d leave angry red burns.

***

Giles, Willow, Tara, Cordelia and Anya were gathered around the pentacle, each nervously fingering their papers, except for Tara, who gave everyone a gentle smile, then took a deep breath.

"Spirits of the realms, I summon thee here. In this time and in this place, bear witness to our conjuring. I beg thy aid; guard o’er us and keep us free from the maelstrom that rages without our haven. In return, I offer thee this sacrifice," she poured a libation of wine over the coals of the brazier, which spluttered and flared briefly, before settling down to a dull orange glow. A light breeze ruffled Tara’s hair was the only indication that the spirits she’d summoned had heard and complied. She nodded, then continued. "Spirit of Earth, this is my plea; let the one who walks this world as a man, a machine and a demon, the one called Adam become like your stillest stone. Lend your power to the hands of the chosen ones, the two who have stood against the tide of evil since the dawn of history."

Giles took up the chant, "Spirit of Air, this is my plea; let the one who walks this world as a man, a machine and a demon, the one called Adam draw no comforting breath from your life-supporting essence. Lend your power to the hands of the chosen ones, the two who have stood against the tide of evil since the dawn of history."

Two hazy balls of light began to dance over the brazier as the chant continued with Willow. "Spirit of Fire, this is my plea; let the one who walks this world as a man, a machine and a demon, the one called Adam lose connection to the fire of life. Lend your power to the hands of the chosen ones, the two who have stood against the tide of evil since the dawn of history."

A third, reddish tinged globe of energy drifted up from the brazier to join the others in their strange dance. Anya added her voice to the chant. "Spirit of Water, this is my plea; let the one who walks as a man, a machine and a demon, the one called Adam draw no succor from the water in his blood, let it evaporate his strength and sap his will. Lend your power to the hands of the chosen ones, the two who have stood against the tide of evil since the dawn of history."

A bright blue-green orb slowly rose out of the brazier and joined the aerial display of energy. Cordelia took a deep breath and looked down at her paper. "Great, why did I get the tough part?" she said, then began to chant, "Spirit of the void, guardian of the great mysteries that link the elements together, this is my plea; let the one who walks this world as a man, a machine and a demon, the one called Adam be disconnected from the comfort of the elemental cradle that is the basis for every living thing. Lend your power to the hands of the chosen ones, the two who have stood against the tide of evil since the dawn of history." Cordelia let out a relieved breath and looked at Tara. "How was that?"

The wiccan smiled and watched as a final, colorless ball of light emerged from the brazier. Together all five lights whirled around and around the five humans, then shot upward to join, then separate into two larger orbs of crackling multi-hued energy. As the balls danced, wind filled the room until the group was deafened. Above the howling, Tara chanted, "This is my call, this is my plea, heed me, oh spirits, and go!" The two orbs hovered near the wiccan for just a second, then vanished. As soon as it had come, the wind vanished, leaving the five humans drained. They fell to their knees, gasping for breath.

"And I thought the visions sucked," Cordy said as Willow dug around in the bag for the box of granola bars and bottles of sports drink she’d packed earlier. As soon as the words left her mouth, Cordy’s eyes fluttered shut and she choked out a scream, grabbing her head.

Images assaulted her mind; the main bay of the bunker overran with demons, killing everything that got in their path; dark hallways strewn with living and dead, including one that Cordy almost recognized; then finally, she saw Buffy fight Forrest as Faith battled the Pyros demon. Helpless, she watched as they fought their separate battles and Riley struggled to overcome some invisible force that held him motionless in his seat. A scalpel had landed near the commando’s hand during the fighting and slowly, ever so slowly, he reached for it, grasping it, then shoving it into his chest and cutting diagonally. Throwing aside the knife, he dug his fingers into his flesh until he found whatever he was seeking and pulled out a tangled mass of chips and wires. Blood soaked his olive green tee-shirt, but he didn’t care, he leaped out of the chair to assist Buffy against Forrest.

Faith and the Pyros demon went round and round the room. The dark-haired slayer had already removed one of the demon’s arms and was just about to drive the sword home in the monster’s chest when a crackling burst of energy came from no where and struck Faith in the back.

"Faith!" Cordy cried out, struggling to rise, but the actress was too weak. She could only topple forward and weep brokenly as her vision left her and a blinding headache took its place.

"Okay, this isn’t fun anymore," Anya said as Giles struggled to get to Cordelia’s side.

***

"Faith!" Buffy shouted, echoing Cordy’s cry. She and Riley spun to see Adam, cradling a blaster, looking at them contemptuously.

"Do you really expect to defeat me, mortal?" he asked, picking up the shattered disk that he’d recovered from their last battle. "Your best chance at confronting me successfully died when this disk was destroyed," he said with a slight grin. He glanced over at the monitors and inhaled satisfactorily. "Ah, chaos. How it feeds me."

Buffy bounced slightly on the balls of her feet and she smiled nonchalantly. "Ry, you got him?" she asked, nodding toward the Pyros demon who was hovering over Faith hungrily.

Riley made fists, cracking his knuckles. "You bet… and Buffy," he said, staring into her eyes, "I’m sorry."

"I know," Buffy said, nodding at the commando sadly. Then she turned to Adam. "Actually, you pathetic excuse for a cyberpunk reject, I know I can defeat you." With speed beyond any she’d ever shown before, the slayer jumped up and kicked away the blaster in Adam’s hand, then she grabbed him and flipped him against a bank of computers.

Dazed, Adam stood and charged Buffy and the fight began in earnest. Riley against the demon, Buffy against Adam.

***

Faith was floating. Hovering, really. It was kind of neat… almost like that falling sensation that happens sometimes when you’re so tired, that vertigo affects you even if you’re laying down. She watched the battle below her rage around her body and itched to help.

"Terrible turn of events, isn’t it?" a familiar voice said, as Gran appeared beside her.

Faith nodded sadly. "Yeah, I really wanna help, but I don’t think I’m gonna make it." She said it with mixed tones of relief and regret.

"Well, it’s not like you’re entirely helpless," Gran said, giving Faith a long look. "If you really want to help your friends, you can."

"How?" Faith asked pleadingly.

Gran cocked her head and said, "Would you die to help them?"

"In a heartbeat," Faith answered unflinchingly.

Gran smiled. "That’s good to know, but the real question is, will you live?"

Faith frowned, "What?"

"Think about it," Gran smiled, "the answer will come."

The dark-haired slayer turned away from the strange old woman to watch the events below her. Riley had just defeated the Pyros demon, grabbing her discarded sword and beheading it, and was turning to help Buffy. Adam, tired of being tossed around like a rag doll, had extended his spike and was about to skewer a dazed Buffy when Riley screamed, "No!" and leaped for Adam, landing on the cyborg.

***

The world slowed down. Buffy watched, helpless and stunned as Riley threw himself at Adam and the Polgara demon’s skewer emerged seconds later from his back. The commando grunted, but tore his body at right angles away from Adam’s, breaking the skewer off, then fell to the ground.

"Riley!" Buffy screamed, as her hands began to tingle and burn. A greenish glow settled over the slayer’s fists and she looked at Adam and growled, "Now I’m really pissed." The blonde slayer flew at the cyborg and double kidney punched him. Twin beams of light burst off of Buffy’s hands and were absorbed by the demonoid’s body and Adam staggered, then stood absolutely still.

"What… what have you done?" he gasped, trying to take a step forward.

"I’m recycling you for spare parts," Buffy said, picking up the sword and hacking into his chest.

***

Faith suddenly knew that Buffy was in great danger. Adam’s power source was too dangerous for her to touch, now that she’d lost the elemental spirit’s gifts. Only she still bore their strength. Only she could safely handle the uranium that fueled Adam. But if she were going to help, she would have to live. She would have to go back to her life of penance and guilt. She would have to go back to living each day feeling the weight of her past crush her soul. She would have to return to struggling with her inner demons for control of her very sanity.

"I’m in," she said, looking at Gran. "What do I have to do?"

"Just open your eyes, dear," Gran smiled, gently brushing her fingers over Faith’s cheek.

***

Faith opened her eyes and jumped up shouting, "Buffy don’t touch that," just as Buffy was about to reach for the glowing green power core of the immobilized demonoid.

Adam’s eyes flashed to her angrily, knowing that he’d been cheated of his revenge at the last minute. "I hate slayers," he wheezed.

"Yeah, yeah, and I love you too," Faith drawled, rolling up her sleeves and walking over to Buffy. "Please, allow me," she said, displaying her glowing green hands.

"By all means," Buffy said politely with a nod of her head toward the gaping wound in Adam’s chest.

Faith flashed her a grin, then reached in and ripped out the cylindrical rod. "Nighty-night Adam. Hope you rot in hell," she said, closing both hands over the power supply and crushing.

Cracks appeared in the rod and greenish energy escaped outward, but did not go beyond the nimbus of lighter energy that surrounded Faith’s hands. There was a loud pop as the rod vanished and Faith was thrown back into one of the steel tables and knocked unconscious.

Buffy was by her side, feeling her throat for a pulse. Weakly, she felt the slayer’s heart beat. "Buffy…" she heard Riley gasp out.

"Riley!" she cried, racing to his side and pulling his head in her lap. Blood was everywhere. The Polgara demon’s spike had pierced the commando’s left lung and every breath rattled wetly.

Riley reached up and touched a blood covered finger to Buffy’s face. "Hey there beautiful," he whispered.

"Hey yourself," Buffy replied, entwining her fingers in his.

Riley’s jaw clenched and he coughed painfully. "I was wrong, Buffy," he said, closing his eyes briefly. "You’re not disgusting. I’m so sorry. I love you, I always have."

"Shh, save it for later," Buffy said, tears streaking down her face.

Riley smiled. "It’s so bright, Buffy," he said softly.

"That’s good, Ry," Buffy said brokenly, stroking his face. "You-you go on toward that light, okay?’

The commando’s eyes fluttered shut as tears dripped onto his face. Riley’s chest heaved once more, then was still.

***

Tara cradled Willow’s head in her lap while the others recovered from the draining spell. Anya had toppled over against a cabinet and was carrying on a silent conversation with the ceiling while Giles tried to revive Cordelia, without much success. Outside, they could vaguely hear the sounds of battle, but none of them felt inclined to investigate further. Suddenly, the door burst open as Spike wrestled a demon to the floor, snapping its neck.

"Well," he said, wiping his hands. "Right then. Has anyone got a cig? I’m about dying for a smoke."

Giles rolled his eyes and continued to work on Cordy. Tara allowed her eyes to flick up to the bleach blonde vampire before drifting down to Willow’s pale face. Softly, she stroked her girlfriend’s cheek. "Honey," she whispered softly, "We’ve got company."

Willow sat up, clutching her head and groaning. "Tara, hon, next time warn me about the kick afterwards."

"Sorry," Tara grinned sheepishly. "I forgot how summoning the elements drains a person. Here, have some more Gatorade," she said, passing the nearly empty bottle to Willow.

The hacker gratefully drank, then passed it along to Giles who worked a couple of more sips into Cordelia. Spike looked around the room and shrugged.

"So, um, we’re done here and you’ll be telling the slayers that I was the good guy, right?" he asked, edging toward the door.

"You just don’t want to get staked," Willow said accusingly, half-heartedly glaring at the vampire.

"Hey now, that’s not the way to thank your savior," Spike said, furrowing his brows. "I risked me life to save you blokes."

"We’re touched, really," Giles said. "Considering you were most likely responsible for some of this in the first place." Spike didn’t answer and Giles gave him a tired look. "Go away, Spike. We’ve got work to do."

Anya turned her head to look at the vampire. "Oh look, it’s the boring dead guy. Hi boring dead guy, did you come to do boring dead guy things?" Willow and Tara covered their mouths to avoid laughing.

Cordelia finally opened her eyes, gasping, "Faith! We’ve got to find her!" and trying to stand up. Her legs were wobbly though, and it was only because Spike leaped over and steadied her that she was able to stand. "Thanks," she said honestly, then when she noticed her rescuer, tore her arm out of his hands. "But no thanks."

Spike rolled his eyes. "Bloody ungrateful mortals. Just because you’ve caused them mortal terror and all, sheesh." The group glared at him. "All right, all right, I know when I’m not wanted. Go find your slayers, children." The vamp turned and sauntered away.

Cordelia was already shoving away the bookcase that led to the secret lab. The others joined her, moving debris that must have been blown in front of the door during the spell. Once the entryway was clear, Cordy dove through, shouting, "Faith?"

Willow and Tara called out for Angel and Anya yelled for Xander while Giles called out for Buffy, but there was no response. They picked their way along through the hallway until they came to the hatchway that Buffy and Faith had gone through earlier, and opened it. They climbed down the ladder, and gasped at the wreckage below.

Buffy was kneeling with Riley’s head in her lap, tears and dirt staining her face as she blankly stared down at the dead commando. Faith was laying in a heap near one of the steel tables, motionless.

Anya took one look at the scene and said, "Well, doesn’t this look happy?"

Cordy whispered, "Faith," and collapsed at the dark-haired slayer’s side, shaking her. "Come on, Faith, wake up, damn you!" she yelled. There was no response. The actress gently blew a couple of breaths into Faith’s mouth, then checked her pulse. "Come on," she pleaded, "I know you’re in there, you stubborn excuse for a human being!" she yelled, breathing in more air.

Faith coughed and Cordy renewed her efforts. "Don’t you go dying on me now, Faith, not when I’ve just figured out that I’m falling in love with you!" the actress whispered.

"Do you mean that, sweet cheeks," Faith said softly, opening her eyes to look up at Cordelia.

"Faith!" Cordy shouted happily, dragging the young woman up and kissing her passionately. The dark-haired slayer cautiously slipped her hands into Cordy’s hair and returned the kiss fervently.

Giles and Willow had gone to Buffy’s side while Tara gently moved Riley’s head off of the blonde slayer’s lap. Willow pulled Buffy up into her arms, holding her fiercely until the slayer came back to reality. With one, giant heaving sob, Buffy flung her arms around Willow and wailed, an inarticulate sound of grief so terrible, that all in the room cried with her.

"He-he-he…" Buffy sobbed. He’s gone. He’s really gone, and I couldn’t save him, Buffy thought, unable to speak.

"I know," Willow soothed, rubbing her friend’s back. Giles wrapped his arms around both girls, a silent presence of support.

Buffy looked up to see Faith and Cordy kiss and a stony look descended upon her face. Why should she be happy and alive when he’s cold and dead? the slayer thought, anger burning like molten lava through her veins. "Faith," she snarled.

Cordy and Faith broke away from each other guiltily.

Buffy jerked out of Willow’s embrace and strode over to the dark-haired slayer, shoving Cordelia out of the way. Grabbing the other slayer’s shoulders, she screamed, "He’s dead! And you’re not! Damn you! You’re not! He’s dead, damn you!"

Faith’s head dropped down and tears speckled the floor. "I know. Buffy," she said, lifting her head to meet Buffy’s crazed stare, "If I could, I’d trade places with him." She sighed, looking away. "But I can’t. I have to live, I have to bear his blood along with all the rest." The dark-haired slayer’s shoulders sagged.

"Damn you," Buffy wept, cursing herself, more than Faith, then collapsing into Faith’s arms. Faith gently held Buffy while she cried, knowing that only she could truly understand the depth of Buffy’s sorrow.

***

Angel and Xander fought their way down hallways and corridors, killing demons as they went, dodging debris that rattled loose whenever one of the bits of machinery exploded in the main bunker.

"Angel, I think I see something this way," Xander said, pointing down a smoke-darkened hall.

"Right, I see it," Angel said, diving in, "Be careful Xander, it’s a slime demon," he added, getting knocked out by a grayish tentacle. "Don’t let this stuff touch your skin, if you can help it."

"Oh gross," Xander said as he ducked in and fired at the tentacular mass of writing flesh. Just beyond the demon, he could make out several humanoid forms sprawled along the corridor – the last guys who tried to stop the thing, no doubt.

Angel reached inside of his jacket and unlimbered a nasty looking sword and started swinging, chopping off bits and pieces of the demon, and yelled, "Xander, try to get to those people, I think they’re still alive!"

The two men battled the demon until Xander saw his opening and ducked below a flailing tentacle, yelping like a kicked puppy when some of the slime dripped onto his back. Quickly, he tore off his shirt and tossed it aside. "It’s acid!" he screamed, voice breaking.

"I did warn you," Angel yelled, slicing off another tentacle.

"I know, I know!" Xander yelled back as he inspected the pile of bodies. One of them moved, and Xander jumped back, letting out a surprised exclamation. "Hey, it’s Graham," he said, helping the dazed soldier up.

Graham shook himself and nodded gratefully at the civilian. Together, they rolled over the bodies in the hall to check for signs of life. Six men, six dead, but under the pile was the body of a hellhound, and it moved a little. Quickly, they moved the carcass and found a naked human male huddled up and shaking. Blood coated his skin but Xander unhesitatingly reached out to offer him a hand up. He looked up and Xander gasped.

"Oz?" he said, confused.

"Hey," the werewolf said, pulling himself upright.

"Oz!" Xander hugged the young man close, then quickly let him go, feeling very aware of the werewolf’s state of undress. Graham looked up from securing a blaster and noticed who they’d found and brought his blaster to bear on Oz.

"Step away from the Hostile, Civilian," he said to Xander, powering up the blaster.

"Whoa, hold it there buddy, this isn’t a hostile, this is my friend, Oz," Xander said, stepping in front of the naked werewolf.

"You are incorrect, that is Hostile 392. I brought him in myself," Graham said attempting to push Xander away, who wasn’t budging.

Xander grabbed the barrel of Graham’s blaster and shoved him back against the wall, growling, "You want to see hostile, huh, commando boy? I’ll show you Hostile 392!" he ripped the blaster from Graham’s surprised fingers and tossed it away. A sickening thud caused both men to look as Angel decapitated the slime demon. The vampire walked up with his blood and slime covered sword hanging away from him at an angle.

"Hi Oz," he said to the young man who was doing his best to cover himself.

"Hey," the red headed young man nodded at Angel.

Angel looked at Graham and said in a soft, commanding tone. "Get your men and get out of here. I won’t ask twice."

Graham and the vampire stared each other down, then Graham nodded. "Yes, sir," he said, bending over to pick up another blaster and starting to jog down a hall.

"You’ll find two of yours stuffed into the ventilation shaft in the control room," Xander shouted after Graham, who waved acknowledgment.

"Let’s go find you some clothes, Oz," Angel said, tossing aside his sword. He pulled off his jacket and offered it to the werewolf, who took it gratefully.

"I’m supporting that idea one hundred percent," Xander said, keeping his eyes off of Willow’s ex-boyfriend’s pale nude form. Oz slipped on the overlarge coat and tried to tie it shut.

As they walked Oz told them how he’d gotten inside of the bunker. He’d just come home from his quest to find a way to control the wolf when, while he was napping in his van, some guys in fatigues had broken open his door and grabbed him. They zapped him with a stun gun and the next thing he knew, he was laying strapped to a table while some doctors jabbed him with needles and other unpleasant things.

The werewolf’s eyes were haunted and he kept looking from side to side as if afraid that someone would come any minute to haul him back to the tiny cubicle they’d housed him in once they’d discovered his lycanthropy. Shortly, they found a storage room containing boxes of fatigues. Angel found a half-empty bottle of water and used it to rinse off Xander’s back, hissing in sympathy when three long, ragged burns were revealed under the dirt and grime.

"These are going to fester later. I’ve got a recipe for a poultice that will help, I’ll give it to Giles when we get back to his place," the vampire said handing the water over to Oz so that he could use what was left to clean himself before dressing in the borrowed clothing.

Xander nodded and said, "Thanks. Whew, those slime demons just suck, don’t they?"

Angel flashed the young man a half smile. "Something like that," he said, putting his jacket back on.

While Oz dressed, Xander examined the boxes in the storage room. He came upon a stack of locked trunks and waved Angel over to help him. Between them, the broke off the lock and discovered bricks of C-4, blasting caps and detonation cord. A huge grin spread across Xander’s face. "Angel, I’m thinking there’s about to be a terrible gas leak beneath Lowell House, what do you think?"

"I think you’re right," Angel said, locating a duffel bag and helping Xander load it up with explosives. "I just hope you remember how to do this correctly."

"Oh, don’t you worry about that, we Harris boys have always been good at blowin’ stuff up," Xander said, grinning madly. He hefted the bag up over his shoulder and together the three of them went to find Buffy and the rest of the gang.

On the way, Oz asked Xander, "So, has Willow," he shrugged a little, "um, met a new guy?"

Xander, a little distracted by his plans for laying out the plastic explosives, said, "Huh? Oh, no, no new guy. Willow’s definitely without the new guy."

Oz nodded and smiled slightly. "Cool," he said.

It didn’t take them long to find the rest of the gang. They were already back in the 314 lab, gearing up to go out and kick some more demon butt when Angel, Xander and Oz walked in.

"Hey guys," Buffy said, looking up briefly from choosing a weapon. "Hey Oz," she added, then, "Oz!"

"Oz?" Willow echoed weakly.

"Oz," Tara whispered, then moved over to help Anya pack up their spell supplies.

"Xander!" Anya jumped up and flew into her boyfriend’s arms, kissing him soundly. Then she slapped him on the chest. "You made me worry about you!" she accused.

Xander winced. "Ow. An, hey, I’m sorry, okay. I’m back now and I bring goodies."

"Goodies? What kind?" Anya jumped up and down excitedly.

"The kind that go ‘boom’," Xander said, pulling out a brick of explosive.

Anya frowned. "That’s not my idea of a fun thing, Xander. I want fun things, not ‘boom’ things," she pouted.

Buffy had jumped up to hug Angel hello and she looked over at Xander when he mentioned the explosives. "Boom things? You found dynamite?"

Xander laughed wickedly. "Oh no, my pretty little friend, I found plastique!" he drawled the word out, showing Buffy the gray clay-like explosive.

"Ooo, big boom!" Buffy laughed, liking where Xander’s mind was going. "But let’s get everyone out before we blow Lowell House to hell and back," she said.

"Agreed," Xander said.

Anya cuddled up to Xander. "Show me how to make a bomb, baby?" she asked, batting her eyelashes prettily.

"You bet, my sweet. See, all you do is make a little ball…" he began demonstrating.

"Oz… you’re back," Willow said, once she’d found her voice, to the werewolf. She gave him a perfunctory hug, which he returned, squeezing her close and inhaling the scent of her hair.

"Willow," he said softly, voice breaking a little.

"Not now, Oz," Willow said, just as quietly.

"I know, but - later - can we talk?" he asked, eyes pleading with hers.

Willow nodded, then let him go. Tara had moved over by Xander and Anya and was helping them by rolling out the balls of explosive while Anya pushed blasting caps into each ball. Angel, Buffy and Giles were huddled together, talking quietly. Angel had one arm draped around Buffy’s shoulders and she was leaning against him, crying softly. Giles reached into a pocket and produced a handkerchief, which he used to gently wipe her face. Buffy smiled at her watcher and caught his hand, giving it a tiny squeeze.

"Thank you," Buffy whispered. "I don’t know what I’d do without my friends around me right now."

"Buffy," Angel said, hugging her a bit, "we’ll always be here for you."

"I know, and I appreciate it, really," Buffy said, wiping her face again. She got up and looked at the gang. "Okay, are we ready?"

"Oh yeah!" Xander said, holding up a bag full of little balls of destructiveness.

"Good, grab a weapon and let’s go."

They left the relative protection of lab 314 and headed out into the chaos. As they went, Xander stuck bits of C-4 every so often into nooks and crannies. They made it to the main bunker, where the demons were mostly fighting each other, or lounging around. When they spotted Buffy and her friends, they rushed them.

Wild fighting broke out. Buffy went one direction with some of the gang, Faith went another. Twenty minutes later, they met near the elevator that led to Lowell House. Quickly, they boarded, then waited while it rose to the closet exit. Lowell House was empty, but Buffy and Faith both sniffed the air simultaneously.

"Run!" they both shouted, grabbing a person and dragging them out of the room and down the stairs. They all barely made it outside when they heard a whistling sound, followed by an explosion that sent them all flying.

***

"…And in today’s news, a broken gas line is being blamed for the destruction of Lowell House, a fraternity on the UC Sunnydale Campus. Casualties are not yet know at this point, but we at Channel Seven news will do our best to keep you updated. In other news, the campaign for Mayor has heated up…"

Xander reached over and clicked off Giles’ television set and groaned. The Scoobies had escaped the blast with only minor injuries. The burns on his back had been taken care of by a poultice that Angel and Giles had concocted, and the group was now lounging around the watcher’s apartment. "So much for reporting the truth," the young man said, laying his head back down in Anya’s lap.

"Well, it was kind of the truth," Buffy said from her barstool seat. Both she and Faith were working on chowing their way through huge plates of leftover spaghetti. "Remind me to thank Graham for that little surprise the next time I see him," she said to Faith, waving her fork around expansively.

"Will do," Faith said, then took a huge gulp from her glass of milk. Cordelia was standing as close as she could get to the dark-haired slayer and not be occupying the same flesh. The actress had her arms wrapped around Faith’s waist and her head was nestled against the slayer’s shoulder. Faith reached down and brushed her fingertips over the back of Cordy’s hand. "You know, sweet cheeks, I’m not going to vanish," she said casually.

"I know," Cordelia said softly, and tightened her grip. Faith only grinned when Buffy raised an eyebrow.

"She just wants to make sure no one steals her new orgasm buddy," Anya said, then leaned over and kissed Xander fiercely. "Like me," she added, giving everyone a look that dared them to nay-say her.

No one did. Joyce emerged from the kitchen and walked over to her daughter, giving her a big hug. "I’m very glad you came home in one piece dear, but did you have to blow up that nice old house?"

"We didn’t, mom, the Initiative did," Buffy replied, deigning not to mention the fact that the house had blown up so thoroughly because of the little nuggets of C-4 that Xander had left all over the bunker below the house.

"Oh, well, in that case, what a terrible shame! Where are all those nice boys going to stay next semester?"

"Somehow mom, I think they’ll find a place."

"Yeah, I’m sure the government has lots of undercover demon hunting operations they can send them to," Xander said with a derisive laugh.

Oz and Willow were sitting on the steps that led to Giles’ loft, talking softly. Tara had disappeared shortly after the explosion, and Willow hadn’t had time to go look for her girlfriend. She felt horrible, but Oz deserved an explanation.

"So Xander tells me that you don’t have a new boyfriend," Oz said, taking Willow’s hand in his and squeezing it gently.

"Well… that’s true," Willow said, hedging a little. She really didn’t want to have this conversation right now, or at least, not right here, in front of all her friends. "Um, why don’t we go for a walk? I’m feeling a little cooped up, you know?" she suggested casually.

"Okay, I’m game," Oz said, standing up and offering the hacker a hand up.

Willow got Buffy’s attention and said, "We’re going for a walk… I’ll call you later, all right?"

"Gotcha… and Willow, tell Tara thank you for everything, okay?"

Willow smiled, "I will, but you’ll get to tell her yourself, too."

"I know, now go on, go get some fresh air," Buffy made shooing motions, knowing full well that her friend needed some space to explain to Oz that Willow’s world had changed dramatically since he’d left Sunnydale.

***

The clearing was quiet tonight, Tara noted with deep relief as she settled down against her favorite tree. It was old, older than Sunnydale, and had withstood centuries of weathering and it was the perfect place for the young wiccan to come and cry out her sorrows. Silence wrapped the clearing, hidden deep within a park, yet close enough for her to walk from Lowell House to get to it. In the distance, Tara could hear the thin wails of sirens. Emergency vehicles responding to the disaster at the frat house, no doubt, but the real world seemed unable to penetrate the stillness of this clearing, this place where Tara had found solace before Willow had come into her life.

She hadn’t been here since she had begun spending all her free time with the red-haired hacker, yet this was the first place she thought to run to once she was able to extricate herself from the Scoobies. The wiccan knew it was silly, deep inside, she could still feel the core of warmth that was Willow’s love for her, but she couldn’t help but feel like someone had dumped a huge stone into the water that was her life when Oz had shown up. She had to go, had to allow Willow the peace to make her own choices, even if those choices shredded Tara’s heart.

Moonlight danced across the small clearing, illuminating dormant wildflowers and edging the grass in a pale green glow. Tara watched, entranced, as a shimmering luminescence ascended from the ground to spin in an ever-widening circumference around the trees. In her tear-blurred eyes the phenomena transformed into a Fairy dance as soft wind whispered in her ears, providing the first notes to a symphony that grew with cricket’s chirps, owl’s calls and the sounds of other nocturnal creatures sharing the night with her.

Closing her eyes, Tara leaned against her tree and wept silently, pouring out her fear and pain in silent, wrenching sobs that only the earth heard.

From the center of the clearing, Gran Murphy watched her only granddaughter cry herself to sleep and sighed. "Oh my precious child," the old woman said, "have faith in your chosen one."

***

"So, where’d you go?" Willow asked as she and Oz walked around, having no particular destination in mind.

"Here and there. Met some people who were really nice. Some of them taught me things - I can control the wolf now," he answered in his soft spoken way. "It’s why I came back. I know… I know I hurt you when I left before, but I had to go, I had to find a way to be the man you deserve and…I can be that man now."

They reached the park, and Willow sank down onto a bench with a heavy sigh. "Oh Oz," she said, throat tightening around the words. "I’m so happy for you," she reached out and the young man joyfully flowed into her arms. They hugged and Oz nuzzled her neck, then pulled back to gently kiss her on the lips.

"Willow," he whispered, bringing a hand up to caress her cheek, "I’ll never leave you again."

Willow closed her eyes and leaned into his touch momentarily, drawn like a moth to the flame that was her first love, then opened her eyes and shook her head. "Oz," she said, capturing his hand in hers and holding it to her chest, "I can’t. I can’t be your Willow anymore."

The werewolf pulled away and stood up. "You hate me," he said brokenly.

"No! Nothing like that," Willow replied, standing up and putting a hand on his shoulder. "Not anymore, at least. I mean, at first, I spent a lot of time cursing you, not literally of course, never that, no bad magic for this wicca," she babbled, floundering, unable to bring herself to say the words that would sever the bonds that linked her heart to Oz’s forever.

Oz smiled a little. "And this werewolf thanks you for that," he said quietly, then looked at her, really looked at her. "There’s someone else," he finally said.

She nodded, as tears welled up and spilled down her face. "Yeah," she said softly, a smile unlike any he’d seen before emerging on her face and brightening her eyes. Gently, the bonds parted, and Willow keenly felt their loss, shuddering a little as the night suddenly got just a little cooler. An image of Tara’s smiling face filled her mind, and the cold was driven back, replaced by a comforting warmth that seemed to cradle her very soul.

"But Xander said…" he tried to understand.

"Xander said there was no new guy, and he was right. He was probably too distracted to tell you everything. There is no new guy… because there’s a new girl," Willow said, biting her bottom lip and hoping that Oz understood.

The werewolf blinked, and thought back to the late night discussions they’d had after Willow’s wish-verse self had been vanquished. About how Willow had felt "those kind of feelings" for women, but just hadn’t acted upon them. Then he thought about the Scoobies, the group of friends he’d come back to that hadn’t changed, except for one person. "Tara," he said, trying not to spit out the name, even though it stung him deeply.

Willow nodded. "Tara," she confirmed, and the love in her voice was enough to kill any hopes that Oz might still carry of getting the hacker back.

He sighed sorrowfully and turned his head away, not wanting Willow to see him cry. "I guess… I guess it wasn’t the right time for me to come home, then."

"I’m so sorry," Willow whispered, wanting nothing more than to take her friend, for he was first and always that, into her arms and comfort him, but knowing that gesture would only hurt him further.

"So am I," he said quietly. Then, he turned to look at her, searching her eyes. "You’re happy?"

"Oh yes," there was no hesitation in her reply.

"Then I’m happy for you," he said, offering his hand. She took it, and he covered it with his other hand. "I will always love you, my wiccagirl," he said, "but I will never deny you your happiness."

"Thank you," she said, leaning in to brush a gentle kiss across his cheek. "What are you going to do now?"

He shrugged. "Find my van, fix it, maybe go on the road for a bit."

"When?" Willow asked, as they started walking again.

"Now seems like a good time," Oz replied as they rounded a corner. His van, doors still slightly ajar, sat unmolested where he’d parked it the first day he’d arrived in Sunnydale.

They walked up to it, amazed and laughing at the fickleness of fate. "Looks like luck was on your side tonight," Willow said, as Oz climbed inside to take a quick inventory.

"Yeah, looks like," he said, a bittersweet tone edging his words. His keys were where he’d left them, and a quick check proved that the old clunker still turned over and purred like a sickly kitten.

Willow closed the back door, then came around to the driver’s side. "I guess this is good-bye, again," she said softly, unable to meet his eyes.

"It is," he replied, "but not forever. I’ll be back, I promise."

"I know," Willow said, "someday, I’ll turn the corner, and there you’ll be, wearing your patented Oz smile with your hair some odd shade of blue or something."

Oz nodded, unable to speak as tears rolled unhindered down his cheeks. "Good-bye," he mouthed, reaching a hand out of the window.

Willow caught it, and kissed his knuckles, then said, "Good-bye, my friend."

He drove away, leaving the hacker to walk alone. She had only one goal in mind now and that was to find Tara and to tell her, with every word she knew and some she didn’t, just how much she loved her.

***

Something drew Willow deeper into the park, some indefinable scent that called to her, teasing her nostrils with a half-remembered smell. Dazedly, she followed the perfume through bushes and along abandoned paths until she broke through into a clearing that resonated with magickal energies.

As she stepped onto the dew-soaked grass, the power that coursed up from the earth into her own depleted reserves nearly caused her to topple over. Only one thing, one half-noticed sight kept her upright and forced her to put one foot in front of the other. Tara, huddled against a tree, looking ghostly pale in the waning moonlight. Slowly, Willow reached her beloved wiccan’s side, and collapsed to her knees.

"Tara," she said, voice hoarse from all the crying. She reached out and laid a gentle hand on the wiccan’s shoulder, but the young woman didn’t move. Tara’s skin was chilled, and Willow realized that she’d probably been there for quite some time.

Carefully, so as not to disturb the sleeping woman, she gathered Tara into her arms and hugged her frigid body close. Willow’s body heat slowly seeped into Tara’s cold flesh, warming her. Slowly, Tara fought her way to consciousness, aware first of a great warmth that seemed to be wrapped around her, drawing her in and comforting her. Then, the scent that was uniquely Willow’s touched her nose and she opened her eyes and looked up into pale green eyes that filled with undeniable love when they saw her.

"Willow," Tara said, sitting up a little.

"That’s my name, don’t wear it out," Willow said with a little smile, then ducked her head down to kiss Tara briefly. "I missed you," she said, when they parted.

Tara rested her head against the hacker’s chest, and sighed raggedly. "I-I didn’t know wha-what would happen, what you would decide…"

Willow laid her cheek against Tara’s pale blonde hair and hugged her close. "I know," she said simply, then, "It’s okay. I’m here and I’m not going anywhere. I love you."

Tara’s breath hitched and she wrapped her arms around Willow and clung to the hacker for dear life. "Thank you," she whispered, and Willow knew that the soft words weren’t meant just for her ears.

The sky’s color shifted, the dark blue graying out as the sun began to rise. Birdsong erupted as a colony of finches woke up and demanded their breakfast. Willow shifted a little, to settle Tara on her chest more.

"I had a choice to make, and you gave me the opportunity to make it in freedom. You’ll never know how much I appreciated it," Willow said, running her fingers through Tara’s hair.

"No one likes a prison, even one whose bars are made of love, and not iron," Tara replied, snuggling close.

"It’s been a hell of a couple of weeks," Willow said, thinking back to all that she, and her friends, had lived through.

Tara nodded. "But we made it through."

"Riley didn’t, neither did Forrest, and so many others," Willow said, sadness tingeing her voice.

"We should spend time with Buffy," Tara said, sitting up and hugging her knees to her chest. "She’s going to need you, most of all, Willow."

Willow half-smiled and reached a hand out to Tara, who took it. "I know, but that doesn’t mean I won’t be there for you, too. Besides, you’re one of us now, part of the family, and Buffy will need all of her family to help her get through this."

Tara smiled, "I haven’t had a family in a long time. Not since Gran died. Thank you, for letting me into yours."

"No problem. Now, what say we go back to Giles’ place and see what he’s got for breakfast? I’m starving!"

They stood up, brushed off their clothes, then, taking each other’s hands, headed toward the dawn.

fin

5-31-00

notes: the Author would like to add that Angie Aparo’s CD, "The American" had a huge influence over this story, as did the Buffy the Vampire Slayer soundtrack. 

The image at the top of this story is a bit of cover art I did at the story was written.  Mostly, it was just for me, but I figured that since I'm trying to share more, I'd put it out there.  I know it's not nearly the quality of my current work, but you may get some giggles seeing where I started.  I seem to recall that I made that image using a combination of photoshop 4.0 and paintshoppro.  Anyway, enjoy.  ~s 01/27/00

Her Little Secrets

The Rat's Tale