Je Me Souviens

By queenzulu

Part Four

Faith waited for another minute. Buffy didn't come back. Faith punched her pillow. This was a fucking head-trip. No one was going to tell her what was going on. She'd die of old age before Buffy decided to open up and share. She simply didn't trust her. Faith glared at the empty doorway. She wasn't going to sit around and wait. There had to be another way.

Faith slipped out of the guest bedroom. Buffy had gone downstairs, but she hadn't left yet. She was talking to Giles and Joyce in the kitchen. Faith stopped on the stairs. If she concentrated, she could hear what they were saying. She held her breath and listened.

"...so I'm going on a quick patrol, first."

"Are you sure that's wise? Adam is still at large, not to mention the fact that the Initiative is no longer friendly." Giles' voice was a low whisper, intense and concerned.

"If I see Adam, I'm gonna run," Buffy said. "I don't need my butt handed to me again. I just need to see how Willow's doing...on the encryption, and stuff."

Oh, this was excellent. The people she was staying with were all superspies. Encryption? Initiative? She'd woken up from her coma into an action movie.

"And Faith?" Giles' question seemed to imply more than he was asking. Faith wished she could see his face. He sounded like he was holding himself back from asking what he really wanted to know. There was a long pause. Buffy wasn't answering. Or, if she was, it was with a look Faith couldn't see.

"Faith will be fine here," Joyce said. "The poor girl, Rupert. She only got out of the hospital today. She doesn't even remember why you're all so angry with her."

"Yes, well, her memory may return, and that concerns me." A chair scraped across the floor. Giles started pacing, his voice coming closer, then retreating. "But more than that, it is the fact that she may discover her Slayer powers--and when she does, she'll only have more questions. The sooner we tell her, the more trust we'll gain."

There was that word again. Slayer. Faith bit her lip. Willow had used it in the hospital. Along with murderer. Was that what she had forgotten? That she'd killed someone? Faith stared at her hands. It had been so easy to make a fist, so easy to knock Buffy off her feet. She could have done something far worse. She could feel the potential for violence in her body every time she moved.

"So we gain her trust, and then what?" Buffy sounded bitter. "We turn around and trust her right back? For how long? Let her get her rocks off slaying until she goes wacko again?"

"Buffy. You know that if Wesley hadn't interfered, we might have saved Faith before things went so far. We still have this chance. We must reach out to her--"

More silence from Buffy. Faith ached to see what was passing across her face. Maybe Buffy had done all the reaching out she was prepared to do.

"Buffy..." Joyce's voice, cajoling. "You were so close to her before. What ever happened to make her turn on you...it has to be more than 'because she's evil'. You can't label people like that."

"On the Hellmouth you can." Buffy sighed. "Look, I said she could stay here. I want her to get better. I just don't want her to know about everything--not yet. Not until we're sure..."

"If you think that's best." Giles sounded doubtful.

"It's better then 'In every generation a Slayer is born'," Buffy said. "No offense, Giles. But it's a sucky way to find out about your destiny."

Okay. For real. These people were off their rockers. Destiny? Faith mouthed the word. It didn't sound like it applied to her. But then, nothing did. The three of them were being serious--unless they'd figured out she was listening and they were putting on some kind of show. Faith doubted that. They'd rather avoid her questions than tell her outright lies, if only to gain her trust. Yeah, right. Like she could have any confidence in people who eyed her like a criminal and discussed her destiny behind her back.

There were footsteps in the hall. Buffy was coming from the kitchen. Faith climbed the stairs and ducked back into the guest bedroom. She left the door open, hoping to hear more. No luck. Buffy and Giles put on their shoes and said goodbye to Joyce, then the front door closed behind them.

Joyce sighed and started up the stairs. Faith threw herself on the bed and waited. It wasn't hard to look bored and nervous when Joyce knocked on the open door. She crossed her arms and leaned against the doorframe.

"Faith? How are you doing?" she asked, with a concerned frown.

"Five by five," Faith said.

Joyce's eyes widened. Blue. Worried. "Really?"

Faith raised a hand and rubbed her temple. "Uh. Yeah. I meant, fine."

"Well, it's just the two of us now. If you need anything..." Joyce trailed off invitingly.

Like answers. That was the only thing she needed. "Nah," she said. "I guess I'm just gonna sleep."

"All right. I'll be here if you need me."

Faith nodded. "Thanks." None of this was Joyce's fault, as far as Faith could tell. She was the only remotely welcoming person Faith had met yet. "I appreciate you letting me stay with you guys," she added.

Joyce's eyebrows raised, but she smiled. "It's no bother. You were always welcome here."

Faith gave her a doubtful look. "Uh-huh."

Joyce had the grace to blush a bit, but she said, "I would never turn you out of this house, Faith."

Faith relaxed. She let go of the sarcasm and the doubt. Joyce was being straight with her. Even if she wasn't volunteering information, at least she wasn't lying. "Thank you," she said again, meaning it.

"You're welcome." Joyce stepped back into the hall. "I'm just down the hall..."

"Okay." Faith sat up and swung her legs over the edge of the bed. Joyce was nice, a real mom's Mom, but that didn't satisfy her. If she wanted to know what was really going on, she was going to have to go to the source.

Buffy.

So she hadn't been in a car crash. Buffy knew what had really happened, but Buffy wasn't telling. And now Buffy was heading out on a patrol, and talking to Willow about her spy stuff. Faith stripped off her old clothes and put on a pair of Buffy's sweats and a black t-shirt. The t-shirt was pretty tight across the chest, and the pants were a bit too short, but at least they were something different, something new. Faith didn't want to be the person Buffy had described to her. The skank. The murderer. She was going to be herself, and if that meant following Buffy to find out who she truly was, then that's how it would be.

Faith headed downstairs, quietly. It wouldn't do any good for Joyce to hear her sneaking out. She stamped into her heavy black boots and tied the laces quickly. She opened the door softly, holding her breath. She dialed up her super-hearing, but she didn't hear Joyce coming to investigate. She closed the door just as carefully, and went down the porch steps.

Now what?

Buffy lived on the university campus with Willow, so that would be the safest bet. If she could get directions from somebody...except the streets were deserted. It was only about nine o'clock, but there were zero people out and about. Maybe it was a small-town thing.

Faith had paid attention to enough of the car ride from the hospital to know the way to Sunnydale's single main street. There would probably be more people there. She headed in that direction.

But Buffy hadn't gone that way.

Faith looked over her shoulder. Down the block and across the street there was a line of tall bushes. She turned to face the hedge. That sense of Buffy's presence that she'd felt when Buffy was standing outside her door was back. It was like the hum of contact, but different, muted. She closed her eyes. This was more strangeness, but...she knew where Buffy was. Not in terms of distance, but direction.

Faith opened her eyes, glanced at the hedge, then towards downtown. She shivered and bounced on her toes a bit. Her pulse throbbed in her wrists. Adrenaline slid through her chest, her arms, her legs. The whole world was sharp and clear, never mind that it was dark. Okay. Chalk that up next to the hearing. Night vision. Some weird connection to Buffy.

And a sort of...excitement? Faith realized she was grinning. Her breath slid quickly between her teeth. She wanted--something. Her fingers curled easily into fists. She felt warm, energized. She laughed, and it sounded a bit manic, so she forced it down. She had to be quiet if she was going to stalk her prey...

This was part of what nobody wanted to tell her. Whatever she was feeling, it meant something.

Time to go find out what.

Faith followed her instincts, jogging down the block to the hedge. She found a convenient gap in the bushes and slipped through.

There was a cemetery on the other side. Headstones and graves checkered the lawn sloping away. The sight of them spiked Faith's excitement. This was familiar. She recognized this--moving softly among the tombs, sliding through the deeper shadows, hunting--

Her prey. Buffy. The light from a crescent moon shone on her hair. She looked like she belonged to the night. She stood the same way Faith had when Buffy's knock at the door had startled her. Balanced on the balls of her feet, leaning forward a bit, both hands up defensively. She was holding something in one hand, and she was talking to a group of guys standing in front of her. Faith glided closer.

"Come on, five against one, that's not very sportsmanlike," Buffy said. "Should I wait for you to call up a few friends?"

The guy at the front of the group laughed. "You're arrogant. I like that. It means you will die easily."

"Um, do you even know me?" Buffy circled the guys carefully as she spoke. "Killing demons professionally for five years running?"

"Every Slayer dies," the man said, and lunged.

Faith gasped. Buffy tossed the guy over her hip and met the charge of the four other men. She swept the legs out from underneath one and sent two more stumbling back with vicious punches. Faith heard bones crack, but none of the guys seemed fazed in the least. Faith's first instinct was to rush into the fray. She wanted to help Buffy. She wanted to fight. Instead, she gripped the side of the mausoleum she was hiding behind, and watched. Buffy closed with the last man. They spun around together, Buffy's foot snapping out in a sharp kick, the man grunting as he took the blow. Faith could see his face--it was deformed, with wrinkled ridges rising up over his forehead, and when he opened his mouth, Faith swore she could see fangs. Buffy launched herself on top of him and--

Faith blinked. She was sure there had been five guys. But now there were definitely only four, and Buffy was still fighting. And where did she get the skills to beat off four guys at once? Buffy moved like a dancer, all grace and flawless intent, like every move came from years of practice, of perfection. Faith gaped at the whole scene. Buffy hadn't shown anything like this before. She was a college student. A teenager. A normal person.

An amazingly beautiful woman.

Suddenly, there were only three guys. Faith saw it happen this time. Buffy plunged her hand down to the man's chest, and there was a poof, and then he turned to dust--skeleton and skin ripped away into nothingness. Buffy just kept going. She did this, and her friends called Faith a murderer? Two guys had just disappeared right in front of her! Faith felt dizzy. She realized she'd been holding her breath and let it out in a long, shaky sigh. Her muscles were twitching. She wanted to run out there--

Oh, God, she wanted more than that.

One of the guys was running away, and Buffy was too busy with the others to follow. It was quick, now, one puff of dust and then another, in the space of two heartbeats. Buffy stood still, panting slightly, looking in the direction of the man who'd fled. Faith couldn't stop staring at her.

Buffy tucked whatever weapon she'd used inside her leather jacket. She stayed motionless for another moment, then, slowly, she turned her head. She was looking in the direction of Faith's hiding spot. Faith saw a frown cross her face. Faith stopped breathing. The tingles had grown to a sizzle of sensation down her spine. Faith leaned against the stone wall of the mausoleum. She was wet, her pussy aching, her nipples hard and chafing inside her bra. And Buffy was still staring straight at her. Surely she couldn't see through walls?

"Faith?" It was only a whisper, but Faith could hear it. And Buffy would know she could. Faith peeked around the corner.

Buffy hadn't moved. Faith closed her eyes and didn't answer, didn't move, didn't think. She was keyed up, feverish, and most of all, bewildered. How could this happen? What did it mean, this whole Slayer business? What the fuck was between her and Buffy?

Who was she?

A long minute passed, then another. Faith heard when Buffy moved away, running across the graveyard as if she knew every inch of it, and wasn't afraid of tripping. Faith stepped out into the open.

Buffy was gone. The man who'd run away from her was back.

"Slayer," the deformed guy said--or, growled, really.

"What the fuck!" Faith yelled. "Is everyone in on the secret except me?"

The weirdo backed off a step. He growled again, confused, his frown making his forehead even uglier, if that was possible. He waited for a moment, obviously expecting something more from her than she was providing. Faith watched him. If he was like his buddies, he'd attack her as soon as she looked vulnerable. So. Look strong. Feel even stronger. Faith's right hand spasmed shut. She needed a weapon. Buffy's had looked like nothing more than a pointy stick.

So, okay. There were trees around. Faith sprinted for the nearest one. The guy was behind her immediately. Faith reached the tree and tugged on the first branch. Would she even be able to snap it off?

The branch splintered cleanly in her hand. Faith stared at it for a second, surprised. She hadn't even put that much effort into it.

There was no time to wonder any more. Mr. Forehead was almost on her, running as fast as he could, his yellow eyes eager and hungry.

Faith gasped and jabbed her branch at his chest, the way Buffy did. The guy couldn't stop himself on time. He was already mid-jump. He hit the pointy end of the stick. Faith felt it pierce his clothes, his skin--his heart...

There was a poof! and he was gone. Dust swirled on the breeze for a second. Faith closed her eyes and threw the branch down. She didn't know how the dusting worked, but that guy was dead. Was it that easy to kill a guy? Was that what made her a murderer?

Then why did it feel so good?

 

Part Five

Buffy unlocked the dorm room gingerly. Her hand shook. The key rattled in the lock. Buffy gripped the door knob and closed her eyes. Willow had been gone a lot lately, studying or practicing spells with someone from her Wicca group. Buffy had hoped she'd be out tonight, but through the door Buffy could hear the click of keys from Willow's laptop. It sounded like Willow was working on the encryption and getting nowhere fast. She wouldn't be going anywhere soon. Damn. Buffy opened the door and tiptoed in. After their argument this afternoon, the last thing she wanted to do was annoy Willow further.

Buffy sat on the end of her bed and lay back. Sweat trickled down her temples into her hair. She concentrated on her breathing, trying to calm down. The patrol had been intense. She'd felt--watched. Hunted. Ordinary vamps didn't have that effect. There was only one thing that did. One person. It couldn't have been Faith, though. Buffy had left her at home. There was no way it had been Faith out there. She was still weak. She didn't know she was the slayer, or that she was the One Girl In All The World. It was better that way. If Faith knew, she'd run away, or go crazy, or try to kill them all, or something.

Hell, she might do something crazy anyway. Faith wasn't the type to wait patiently for explanations. Even with amnesia, that was still clear. Buffy hated the look in Faith's eyes that said she thought everyone was against her. That she was alone, and helpless, and still trying to come out on top. The only thing Faith knew how to do was fight. And why? Because Faith had never known a time when she was safe, when she didn't have to fight.

Maybe last year. Maybe, one or two times, when Buffy was patrolling with her, Faith had seemed genuinely happy. She still talked incessantly about sex or dancing. She wasn't as cynical, though, and not as bitter. She would tease Buffy gently, without the sarcastic edge that was all Willow and Xander ever saw. Those patrols were the best Buffy could remember. The low-level awareness of Faith's presence, a more or less constant thing, would flare and shine with Faith's satisfaction. And she'd feel--

What she'd felt tonight in the cemetery. The quick blaze of excitement that came when she'd finished off those four vamps. One had gotten away. Buffy groaned a bit, wiggling on the bed. She should have had him. The feeling of being watched had distracted her just enough to let him go. She'd been left hanging. She wanted the kill. It was her fault she'd missed. Heat spilled through her, and she lost concentration. That warmth came from Faith. And Faith was back, that was all. Safely at home, but awake nonetheless. Hurt, and weak, but alive...

Oh, God, Faith was alive.

Alive. Buffy felt like she couldn't breathe and like a huge weight had been lifted off her chest at the same time. She wasn't a murderer--she hadn't become Faith after all. But Faith was back. With all the hurt and broken friendships Buffy had though she could forget forever. Faith had betrayed her, and how could she leave Faith alone with her mother? Faith the killer. Faith the psycho.

Faith, the girl she'd stabbed, the girl she'd almost killed. Faith, wounded and vulnerable and as open as she'd ever been because she didn't know any better, didn't know what was really going on. There was no way to keep everything from her. Faith would figure it out. And then what? Would they be enemies again?

If Faith went bad, Buffy knew she wouldn't be able to stop her. That fight, eight months ago--every move, every punch, every strategy was burned into her brain. Buffy couldn't do that again. She couldn't kill Faith, not again, not for real. And if she told Faith the truth, then that's what it would come to. Buffy had to change things, to make them better. How? Faith didn't trust her. Who would, after the way they'd all treated her today? There was simply no way out. Tell Faith the truth, and lose her forever. Keep her in the dark, and drive her away.

Buffy opened her eyes. Willow was still typing. She was ignoring Buffy as much as she could. She was used to these post-patrol rituals of Buffy's. Buffy shed her inner Slayer like she was taking off a coat, but it took concentration, effort. Every night she had to shove down those uncontrollable urges Faith had mentioned earlier.

The urges were always more uncontrollable when Faith was around. Tonight, slaying those vamps, Buffy had nearly melted from the sensation. God, why couldn't Willow be at her friend's place tonight? Buffy seriously needed to get rid of some tension.

She had to go back home soon. There'd be no relief then. Giles and Mom thought she was checking up with Willow on the Initiative after her patrol. She was actually escaping Faith. Buffy would never be able to touch herself when Faith was within sensing distance. Faith had never been shy about letting her know she'd fuck anything that walked on two legs. "As long as they're breathing," she'd told Buffy once, "which is a higher standard than you seem to have, so really, I don't know why everyone thinks I'm the naughty one here."

Buffy quickly shook that image out of her head. She sat up and sighed. Willow glanced over her shoulder.

"How's it going?" Buffy asked, waving vaguely at Willow's laptop. She didn't understand what Willow was trying to accomplish, at least, not beyond "Initiative computers bad, sneaking in good."

Willow twisted her face into an apologetic grimace. "It's going perfectly, if our plan was to see if my eyeballs really could turn into cubes," she said. She closed the laptop and twisted around to face Buffy, resting her chin on her chair back, pouting slightly at her failure. "How was patrol? Are there lots of little piles of dust out there getting together to organize a Buffy Kicks Butt convention?"

"Four, at least," Buffy said. "But I think the convention was called off when they found out the hotel double-booked them with vacuum salesmen."

Willow gave her a look that was nearly an eyeroll. Buffy sighed. So they hadn't moved past the Faith thing by avoiding each other all afternoon. That meant they still had to talk it out. Just wonderful.

Willow got up and started cleaning the room, straightening things on her desk that were already at right angles and tucking an overhanging sock all the way into the laundry basket. Buffy hugged her pillow and watched. She wanted a shower, but if she left the room now, Willow would probably go to bed so that they could avoid this talk for another day. Buffy frowned. When was the last time they had really talked? About stuff that was important, not just Scooby business? Never, really, since Willow had baked guilt-cookies, just after Oz left. Buffy had Riley, and Willow had magic.

And now there was Faith. Standing between them. Again. Still.

"White elephant," Buffy said. It was almost a sigh.

Willow glanced over from where she was tucking her sheets in so tightly she'd probably have to become two-dimensional if she wanted to get into bed. "Huh?"

"In the room. You know, the one we're not talking about?"

Willow plopped down on her bed. "We talked this afternoon."

Buffy winced. "Yeah, but maybe we didn't listen."

Willow snorted. "Are you gonna listen this time when I say Faith shouldn't be staying with you?"

"No...probably not." Buffy ran a hand through her hair. Ick. Really, shower should be higher on the list. But, first, Willow. "I know you don't think so, but I can handle her. It's more the why--not the 'she tried to kill us' why, you know, the other why--the why that was why before she tried to kill you."

Willow's lips tightened. She hugged her knees, frowning fiercely at her bedspread. "It's nothing."

"Will--"

"I don't want to talk about it."

"Then it's something. Can't we just--"

Willow flung herself down on her bed and curled up, facing the wall away from Buffy. "No."

Buffy opened her mouth, then closed it again. Willow sniffed--quietly, and normally Buffy would pretend she hadn't heard. But not over this. Buffy cautiously shifted her position. Silently, she moved across the room and sat down on Willow's bed. Willow tensed when she felt Buffy's weight on the mattress.

Buffy sat cross-legged and reached out a hand to stroke Willow's hair. "What did she do?" she asked.

"Nothing."

"Willow, if Faith did something to you..."

Silence. Buffy could see tears running over Willow's nose.

"She really doesn't remember," Buffy said. "Giles says she might get her memory back, but she might not. I don't know about you, but if I woke up and everybody around me hated me, I'd want to know why." She sighed. Her fingers combed through Willow's hair, over and over, soothing. "She's so...alone. Before, you know, she had me...sort of. I mean, I had you guys, but it's..." Different. Buffy tried to find words that wouldn't make Willow feel worse. No matter how much help Willow and Xander were, with research or getting donuts or magic or even as bait, they still didn't know what it was to be the superhero. It was lonely. And, for those few months with Faith, it...hadn't been. They argued and fought and disagreed, but Faith understood. Willow understood her, too, but not about the Slayer stuff. And not always about Angel, either--Faith always knew, and Faith always told the truth, even if it was awful. Even if it hurt. "Faith thought she only had me," Buffy said. "I guess I never got that before. But if she hurt you, Will, if she did something to you...you're my best friend, you know that, right?"

"Yeah." It came out shaky. Willow shifted a bit. "She didn't do anything. Not like--not like you think. It...it doesn't matter."

"It matters to me." Stroke. Stroke. Staring out the window. It was a full moon. Somewhere, out there, Oz was wolfing out. But he was gone. And maybe Willow was still hurting over that. When was the last time Buffy had checked to see how she was doing? Last year, it was the same thing. Buffy must have really missed a lot. So wrapped up in Angel that she didn't see whatever had caused this big crack between Willow and Faith. She knew Willow didn't like Faith. It was partly her fault, for getting caught up in that warm, tingly togetherness, the rightness of slaying with Faith. They were both jealous of any time Buffy spent with the other one. But she couldn't cut herself in half. She couldn't be that girl for everyone.

"Buffy..." Willow stumbled over her name. She was nervous. Buffy could feel a babble-fest coming.

"Yeah?" Quiet. Calm. Tell me what's wrong. Tell me where we lost each other.

"Have you ever had...um, like, feelings, the kind of feelings that are--feelingy, but you didn't know if they were the real feelingy or just, maybe, friendship, like good friends feelingy?" Willow looked up hopefully.

"I guess," Buffy said cautiously. Had Willow finally found someone after Oz?

"Maybe...they make you feel good, and when you look at them you think 'wow', but you know everybody's gonna think they're pretty much the wrongest person for you?"

"I haven't forgotten Parker yet, Will."

Willow squirmed. "Not that kind of wrong. The kind where you...I mean, have you ever felt--like that--about someone who was less than guy-like?"

Buffy's hand froze. She could hear Faith's voice, teasing and dark. "You ever get that good, down-low tickle?" Watching Faith pump her hips and grunt, Buffy's body had immediately provided her with a perfect example of the feeling in question. She blushed. Was this what had Willow so upset? "I am not attracted to Faith!" she protested.

Willow's eyes widened. "Not Faith--me!"

Buffy backed up. She nearly fell off Willow's bed. "I don't feel that way about you, either!" She stared at Willow in horror. "Oh, God, I'm so sorry."

"I'm not hitting on you, Buffy!" Willow sat up, anger burning bright colours on her cheeks. "I'm telling you why I was mad at Faith. And this is why--she said--you're acting just like--" She clamped her mouth shut. "I wanted you to meet somebody. Who I maybe...like. A lot. But if you're...going to be like this...I'm just, I can't. I don't want to talk about it."

Buffy stood up. "I'm not acting like anything."

"You're acting like I just told you I had leprosy." Willow spread her arms. "This is me! Lesion-covered Willow! Infectious and rotting!"

"I don't--you just, you caught me by surprise. I'm sorry." Buffy sat down on her own bed. Willow likes girls. No, Willow likes a girl. Buffy tried not to feel weird about it. It didn't work. She'd brought up the white elephant in the room and now it was stampeding through her brain. "And...Faith knew?" she asked. How awful with that? Willow was her best friend, and Faith knew while she didn't?

"Not exactly." Willow calmed down and sat across from her. "Faith told me."

"She...told you..." Buffy shook her head.

"She said, out of the blue one day, no reason, she just was in the library and she told me I didn't really love Oz. And I got upset and tried to leave and she just called after me, 'Trust me, when you find her, you'll know Wolfy was just about having a boyfriend in a band.' And...I hated her for that, because...it was Oz, you know?" Willow sniffled and pushed her tears back with the heel of her hand. "And now...I guess, she's right, and when I saw her today, and I was already thinking about telling you...it just. All came back." She glared at Buffy. "Plus I'm still not forgetting the holding-a-knife-to-my-throat thing, because being a hostage? Not the warm-fuzzy feeling you'd expect."

Buffy nodded. She didn't know what to say. Willow had shocked her, but it was wearing off. She wondered how Faith had known. What had Buffy missed seeing? Maybe it was just that Faith had been known to--again in her words--"scratch the itch" with whoever was handy. Faith knew, because Faith liked girls. Buffy thought again of Faith's teasing, Faith's flirting...but, that was so the wrong direction for her thoughts to be headed right now. "So," she said. "Who did you want me to meet?"

"From your Wicca group, Tara?"

"Yeah."

"Well...okay. Yes. I want to meet her. I want you to, um...follow your heart. But in a less Afterschool Special kind of way." Buffy smiled. "And, with Faith...can you be okay with her? I mean, if she recovers, and she...hates us...that's different. But, for now?"

Willow shrugged. She looked down for a minute. "It's not that I don't want to give her a chance, Buffy. I know she's sick, and hurt, and all that. But we've given her lots of chances, haven't we?"

"Maybe not." Buffy struggled with her words. She kept having to face this issue over again. But with Faith being memory-loss girl, it just kind of changed the way she saw it. "We never gave her a chance this time. Because she was meeting us for the first time and already the deck was stacked against her." Buffy sighed. "I don't know, Will. I just want her to understand. Maybe none of us can forgive each other if she doesn't know what she's done, but if she remembers, I want us to be able to."

Willow sent her a pained glance. "If she remembers--"

"Then she'll probably run," Buffy finished. "Or kill me. I know."

"I know you can handle her, Buffy. I do trust you that much."

I don't trust myself that much, Buffy thought, but she didn't say it. It would hurt so much if Scared Faith turned into Psycho Faith...if Buffy had to face her as an enemy. Again. "I'm going to take her shopping tomorrow, maybe get her used to...things," she said. "Did you want to--?"

"Join you? Buffy, I'm trying, okay, but that's a bit much. I'll try and talk to Xander, though." Willow climbed to her feet. "It's late. Riley called before, he said he'd drop by after his patrol. He'll probably be here soon."

Buffy wrinkled her nose. "And I'm all stinky."

"They say the course of true love never runs smooth," Willow said in her snootiest voice.

Buffy grinned. This was good. They'd talked, they hadn't wigged, and things were better. "Right. Shower for me." She tossed on her robe and grabbed her toiletries, then headed for the bathroom.

The hot water reminded her how tired she was. Buffy worked shampoo through her hair, feeling the pleasant ache in her muscles that told her she'd had a good patrol, a good fight. Stepping back under the spray, she stood there, feeling the needles of water heat her skin, rinsing the soap away. She cast her mind back to the cemetery. If only that one kick had connected...she could have snapped the fifth vampire's neck, maybe even decapitated him, if she'd been a hair quicker. Buffy reached for the conditioner. The slayage had been good, though. Better than good. Buffy squeezed the conditioner into her hair, rubbing at the small, tense knots in the back of her neck at the same time. She'd been on top of her game. Five at once was pretty steep odds, even for her. But she'd felt...smooth, practiced, perfect. In sync with the world. And--watched. Like she was in the Olympics, the way Faith had joked once. The world's eyes on her, admiring her, somehow in tune with her.

Buffy sighed and ran her hands down her body. The air was thick with steam, the shower almost too hot. The bath gel was slick on her skin. Her body was tingling again, the way it did when--

When Faith was watching her. When their Slayer connection flared up with Faith's attention, her appreciation.

Buffy's breath caught in her throat. Don't think about Faith. She didn't stop herself from bringing her hands up to her breasts, sliding her palms over her nipples. They were hard, slippery with the gel. God, this was what she needed, what her body had been demanding since the end of the slay...when the too-familiar feeling washed through her. The one she'd denied to Willow, packaged up and stored in the back of her mind where she didn't have to think about it.

I am not attracted to Faith!

Faith, stretched out on her bed, her shirt sliding up...showing her flat stomach dipping below her ribs, the flare of her hips under the too-loose pants. Her breasts moving up and down with every breath...

Buffy pinched her nipples, sighing. The electric feeling speared through her body. Her legs felt weak, her pussy throbbing. She reached down to touch her clit, the bath gel mixing with her own wetness. Buffy ran her finger up and down her slit, slow and hard, feeling her body twitch each time.

Shouldn't be thinking about Faith. Think about...Riley. Or Angel. Or even fucking Parker.

Buffy tipped her head forward and bit down on a moan. It was no good. Faith filled her mind, dancing, strutting, teasing her. Grinning, her full lips inviting Buffy to give in, go bad--

"Fuck!" Buffy yanked her hands away from herself and hit the wall of the shower stall. She was not going to come while thinking about Faith. Faith was just...on her mind. With the waking up and the returning to her life and the completely messing up her head.

Buffy wrenched the taps closed and toweled off quickly, trying to convince her body that it should be satisfied. She was flushed, her pulse throbbing on the surface of her skin. Her pussy ached, wanting to take up where she'd left off. It wouldn't happen.

Of course Riley was waiting for her when she got back to the room. Buffy blushed guiltily when she saw him, but she forced herself to smile and kiss him quickly. He grinned and ran his hand down over her ass, then stepped back. "I'll wait in the lounge," he said. "You're coming over, right?"

There were a thousand excuses at the tip of Buffy's tongue. She had a load of homework. She was exhausted. She had to get back home. She was worried about Faith.

Faith. Faith sleeping down the hall in the guest bedroom. Faith wearing Buffy's clothes...or, maybe, not wearing Buffy's clothes.

"Of course," Buffy told him. "I'll just be a minute."

Buffy dawdled over getting dressed, until Willow asked if she had lost something.

"No. I'm going. It's just--" There was no good way to explain. A single Really Big Conversation per night was plenty. "I wanted to know when I'm going to meet Tara."

Distracting Willow was that easy. She blushed. "Uh...tomorrow night? The Bronze?"

"Okay. Great. Well..." Buffy stared around the room. No more delays. "Great. See you then."

Riley held her hand as they walked through the dark campus to Lowell House. His meaty hand was sweating, and Buffy felt lost in his grip. When had this happened? She used to like his size--his broad shoulders, his chest, his farmboy grin. Now there was something claustrophobic in standing next to him. Buffy looked up at his smug smile and tried to figure out how she'd never noticed how tall he was.

"So," he said, smiling down at her, his eyes twinkling. Buffy realized he thought he'd just caught her checking him out. "Is everything settled at your place?"

Buffy gave an uncomfortable shrug. "We don't know. Faith still doesn't remember anything. I don't know how long she'll be there."

"Well, as long as you don't help her too much," Riley said. "Not that you shouldn't try to help, but don't forget about yourself. School. Patrolling."

"You?" Buffy asked drily.

Riley grinned. "Well. Yeah."

"Don't worry," Buffy said. "Faith is taken care of. She's under control."

"Good." Riley paused and bent down to kiss her. "Because I wouldn't want to lose you. You do so much as it is..."

"Yeah," Buffy said. At least his kiss was beginning to remind her why she'd come to Lowell with him.

As soon as they were in his room, he wrapped his arms around her. Buffy fought the urge to kick herself free. His mouth was rough where he hadn't shaved, his lips eager and sloppy. He tugged her by the hand towards his bed. He knew she was usually happy to go along with him after they'd both patrolled. Buffy kissed him back, trying to find a rhythm with his too-large body. He used his fingers and his mouth, and it felt good--to a point. Buffy rolled him over and got on top, which usually worked for her. She shifted, trying to find the angle that would make everything tip from pretty good to simply amazing. Riley was starting to get desperate, but he was trying to hold back and wait for her. Like a gentleman. Buffy could have cried in frustration. She wanted this. She needed this.

She wasn't getting any closer.

This was horrible.

Faith would probably laugh at her.

Faith would probably know what to do.

Faith would--

Faith--

Buffy gasped and came before she knew what was happening, burying her mouth against Riley's collarbone to stop herself from crying out anybody's name. Riley let go a second later. He snuggled up next to her afterwards, murmuring "I love you," into her hair.

Buffy stayed awake in the beefy trap of his arms, thought about Faith, and wondered what the hell was going on.

 

Part Six

Faith crept back into Buffy's house. The lights were out. Joyce must have believed Faith was safely asleep. Faith trudged upstairs to the guest bedroom. She turned her back on the watching African masks and skinned out of Buffy's clothes. The sheets were crisp and cool. Faith lay in bed, arms crossed behind her head. She'd spent eight months of her life asleep. After what she'd seen tonight, she didn't think she'd ever sleep again.

She had killed a man. It wasn't all her fault. He'd attacked her, apparently without reason. Maybe he was a criminal, maybe he was a complete wacko. It didn't matter. Faith had stabbed him. She'd watched how Buffy did it, and it looked so easy. When Faith jabbed the branch into the guy's chest, it felt like it was what she had been born to do.

Her destiny.

Buffy had said something about that, earlier, in the kitchen with Joyce and Giles. That Faith had a destiny. That she would get off on slaying.

Killing.

And Buffy did too. Faith didn't question that for a second. She could feel it through the shimmering contact of their bond. She saw Buffy's ragged breathing, that not just the fight could account for. Faith smelled it in the night air. That scent--Buffy's arousal--it was another teasing familiarity. Part of her memory itched to tell her what was going on. The harder she pushed, the further away the memories seemed. Faith felt blocked. Trapped.

She had thought it would be so easy to start fresh. She wanted to be someone new. Not the killer everyone accused her of being. Yet here she was, with blood on her hands. Sort of. Dust, anyway.

And if she could forget the killing for a minute, there was the fact that they guy had disappeared. Turned to dust and blown away. Faith couldn't ignore the freaky stuff anymore. Her sight, scent, hearing, strength--all of them were enhanced. This thing with Buffy. And the magic vanishing dead guy.

The moonlight moved across the artwork on the walls. Faith closed her eyes. All around her were the threads of a mystery. None of them was close enough to touch.

And at the center of it all was Buffy. Faith could feel the ghost of her touch even now. Buffy was lying to her, about so many things, but Faith felt like Buffy didn't want to be. As if there was something larger that she didn't dare reveal. There was so many things behind Buffy's eyes, half-hidden emotions that Faith didn't know what to do with. Somehow, Buffy reached into Faith's heart and triggered feelings that were almost memories. It was all so confusing, but Faith knew--she knew--that when she was watching Buffy fight, she loved what she saw.

Loved, and feared...

When Joyce called her for breakfast, Faith dragged herself out of a restless sleep. She rubbed her eyes and tried to hold on to the fragments of her dream. Something about Buffy...kissing her forehead, and whispering in her ear...

"Thank you, Faith. You saved me...and I'm so sorry..."

By the time Faith showered and hauled on a fresh set of Buffy's handmedowns, it was already fading. Joyce fixed her with a motherly eye when she slumped into the kitchen and sat at the island.

"How are you feeling today, Faith?" Joyce brought over a pot of coffee and set a mug in front of her. "Black, three sugars, right?"

Faith wrapped her hands around the mug while Joyce poured. "Sure. Whatever."

"Oh, I'm sorry. I guess I should let you remember on your own." Joyce sighed. She set the coffee down and ran a hand through Faith's hair.

"Not that that's working out so great," Faith muttered, trying not to sound too bitter. She took a drink of the coffee, fast enough to scald her tongue. The sugar was definitely a good idea.

"You just need to have a little patience," Joyce said, returning the pot to its place under the percolator. "You've already remembered more than you know." She turned around and leaned on the island opposite Faith, crossing her arms. She met Faith's eyes. "The doctors never expected you to wake up at all," she said. "You've beaten so many odds...if it takes a few days to get your memories back, it's not because they aren't coming."

Faith nodded. She traced a finger over the pattern on the coffee mug. "You really figure, huh?"

"Yes. I do."

Faith raised an eyebrow. "Then why won't you just tell me? Save the middleman or whatever."

Joyce tipped her head. "It's not my place. And, I don't know everything that you would want to know."

"So wait for Buffy to get over herself." Faith made a disgusted noise. "'Cause that's gonna happen sometime in the next century."

"Buffy has been my daughter for nearly nineteen years," Joyce said. "And if there's one thing I can say, it's that it might take a while, but usually, she can and does 'get over herself'." She smiled. "Now, how about breakfast? Today, I've got toast, and there's also...toast."

Faith snickered. "Good choices." She took another gulp of the searing coffee. "Can I help?"

"Plates are in that cupboard...jam is in the fridge."

Faith set herself a place. Joyce put the toast in front of her. Faith had just started digging in when the front door opened and closed. A moment later, Buffy walked into the kitchen. She snagged a piece of toast from the toaster and munched it dry.

Faith concentrated on spreading jam on her own slice. Buffy was wearing the same clothes that she was last night in the graveyard. Faith's nostrils twitched. The scent of dust and dry sweat was obviously too faint for Joyce to notice, but for her it was a huge sign screaming that everything that happened last night was real. Buffy had showered--Faith could smell soap, as well, and her hair was shining clean--but the clothes were steeped in last night's fight, last night's lust.

Faith bit into her toast. The awkward silence that started when Buffy came home kept growing. Joyce fiddled with the coffee maker, adding fresh grounds. Buffy stared at Faith whenever she thought Faith wasn't watching, but Faith kept catching her. She looked frightened.

Scared of me, Faith thought. How could Joyce even think that they were going to get back to being 'good friends' or whatever they had been before? Buffy not only been horribly hurt, somehow, by Faith, but now she didn't trust her as far as she could throw her. Although, considering how far Buffy had thrown a few of those thugs last night, maybe it was even less than that.

"Sorry I didn't call," Buffy said, wiping crumbs off her shirt, carefully not meeting either her mom's or Faith's eyes. "I thought you'd be okay. I stayed at Riley's."

"That's nice. How is he?" Joyce asked brightly.

"Fine," Buffy mumbled. "So...anyway, I don't have class today, so I thought Faith and I could go shopping. She needs..." Buffy waved a hand at Faith's too-tight t-shirt and too-short pants. "Well. Everything."

"That sounds good. I'll get you some money." Joyce headed out of the room. Faith tensed, wishing she still had the barrier of her presence. Buffy seemed even more tense than she had been last night, if that was possible. But maybe Joyce was right. If they could get past this tension, break the ice...maybe there was potential for so much more between them.

Faith watched Buffy pour some coffee for herself, adding milk and sugar. "Rambo?" she asked.

Buffy turned around. "What?"

"I'm guessing my nickname for you, remember?" Faith started jamming another piece of toast. Then, with a malicious smirk, she asked innocently, "Shorty?"

Buffy glared. "No."

Faith licked a bit of jam off her knife. "Mmm. Um. Sugarmuffin?"

"No!" Buffy's glare cracked, and her lips twitched into a smile. "Where did that one come from?"

"I don't know. I'm just, y'know, covering a broad spectrum."

"It wasn't anything like--"

Faith held up a hand. "No hints." She paused to consider. "Do I get something when I guess? A reward?"

"I don't think so." Buffy brought her coffee to the island and sat across from Faith. "Nope. That definitely wasn't established in the rules."

"There are rules now?" Faith grinned. "And here I was thinking I was a rebel, the kind who doesn't play by the rules, just a little dangerous..."

"Yeah," Buffy said softly. "Yeah, you are that."

Faith pointed the knife at her. "Not fair."

Buffy's eyes focused on the knife. "I know."

Faith looked at the knife. She felt a flash of her dream, of pain and falling. She dropped the knife on her plate with a clatter. Faith shook her head, trying to regain her balance. "Jesus...Buffy--"

Buffy circled the island in a flash. Too fast for any ordinary human to do it, of course, but Faith knew that. She knew that Buffy was a freak. Hell, they both were.

Buffy put a hand on her shoulder, steadying her. "Are you all right?"

"Dizzy..." Faith squeezed her eyes shut, then opened them again. "It's nothing."

"It's not nothing. You were in a coma. Nothing is nothing." Buffy pressed her shoulder. Faith took a deep breath, feeling excitement seep through their contact. The world steadied in her vision. Faith stayed stock still, trying to extend for as long as possible Buffy's touch.

Joyce came back from the other room.

Buffy jumped back from Faith's side. Faith heard the hitch in her breath. "Mom!" she said.

Joyce looked up from where she was rummaging through her purse. "What?"

"Nothing. Sorry. Just--lunch money, too, okay?"

Joyce gave Buffy a glare. "You know, a part-time job wouldn't kill you."

"The one I have just might," Buffy said sweetly. She flinched, then looked at Faith.

"Fine. Lunch." Joyce handed over some cash.

"All right. I'll just get changed." Buffy smiled uncertainly at Faith. "You'll be ready?"

Faith nodded. What choice did she have? "Yeah."

As it turned out, shopping with Buffy wasn't as painful as she'd feared. Buffy had conned the use of her mom's Jeep, so the trip to the mall was short. Store after store, bag after bag, Faith's arms filled with clothes that fit. Buffy let her choose whatever she wanted, but Faith stayed away from the slutty clothes. She was going to dress like someone new, anyway, even if the rest of her stayed the same.

Around lunchtime, Faith's growling stomach finally put an end to the shopping spree. Buffy smiled at her.

"Okay, Faith, I get the message. I've just got one more thing to get. Meet me in the food court?"

"Great," Faith said. She was starved. She picked out the sign at the edge of the food court that led to the washrooms. She pushed through some swinging doors with her bags of clothes. Beyond, there was a back service corridor with the washrooms at the end.

As she was coming out, hauling her bags and grumbling about Buffy's shopping stamina, she heard the scrape of feet in the hallway behind her.

"Slayer..."

Faith turned sharply at the sound of the deep, gravely voice. She was getting used to strangers calling her that. She glanced over her shoulder. The hallway was deserted. Faith peered into the shadows. Someone was standing there--huge, muscle-bound, and...green?

"What do you want?" Faith challenged.

"I have a gift...from a mutual friend."

Faith tensed. She shifted position. It was too subtle for most people to notice, but Faith was getting used to this too--sliding into the perfect fighting stance, fists loose and ready, feet balanced, prepared to defend any attack and lash out at the same time. "Yeah?" she asked. "And who would that be, exactly?"

The hulking figure in the shadows backed up a step, an instinctive response to Faith's aggressive pose. Faith could see more of him now. He wasn't just green, he was also covered with scales. Horns rimmed the top of his skull. His mouth was full of sharp teeth, and a forked tongue shot out to wet them before he spoke again. "The boss," he said. "Take it."

He moved, and Faith barely controlled her preemptive strike. A package, tied with brown paper and tape, sailed out of the dark. Without taking her eyes off the monster, Faith snatched it out of the air with her left hand. It was hard and rectangular, with a bulge on one side that rattled when she caught it. "What is it?"

A hissing laugh. "Find out."

"Faith?" Buffy's voice, from the entrance to the hallway. "Are you done yet?"

Faith wrenched around, her heart pounding. She didn't want Buffy to know about this. If Buffy was going to keep secrets from her, then Faith sure as hell wasn't going to tell her that guys looking like horny toads were giving her mysterious packages in dark hallways. "Coming," she called. She turned back to the monster, but he was gone. At the end of the hall, the exit door closed with a clang.

Faith backed up slowly, just in case the ugly dude had backup. She slipped the 'gift' into one of her bags filled with clothes, stuffing it underneath two tops and a pair of jeans. With a final look around the corridor, she turned around and joined Buffy back in the food court.

"I was beginning to think you'd fallen in." Buffy reached out a hand for a few of Faith's bags.

Faith shook her head. "I got it."

"Okay." Buffy snaked her way through the lunch crowd. "Found a table," she said over her shoulder.

Faith followed her. Her mind was more on the monster than on Buffy. She squeezed the handle of the bag that hid the package. Now what? Like she didn't have enough puzzles right now. A gift from 'the boss'. Someone she'd known eight months ago, another forgotten name, forgotten face. Maybe she shouldn't even try to dig up the past. She was bad news back then. She could toss the package in the garbage and never think about it again.

But if she did that, then her only link to the past outside of Buffy would be lost. And Buffy still wasn't talking. Faith frowned at Buffy's back. If Buffy wouldn't tell her what she wanted to know, then she'd have to find another way to get her memory back--and some weirdo had just provided her with an opportunity she'd be stupid to turn down.

If only Buffy had been willing to answer her questions. If only Buffy trusted her. Faith sighed. There were way too many 'if onlys' in her life. She needed the information. She would have to go behind Buffy's back. There was no use feeling guilty about it. As soon as she was alone, she'd open the package.

Buffy led her to one of the tiny tables with the moulded-plastic chairs. It was spread with more food than Faith thought they could eat in a week's worth of meals, let alone one lunch. Pulled back from her thoughts, she laughed. "You hungry or something, there, B?"

Buffy's eyes widened. "You did it!"

Faith paused, her burger halfway unwrapped. "Did what?"

"That's it. That's what you used to call me." Buffy's gaze was suspicious.

Faith squinted and thought back over their conversation. "B? That's it? That's the boringest nickname I ever heard." She shook her head. "You got that annoyed that I called you by your initial?"

"Well..." Buffy's face scrunched up uncertainly. Faith snickered. Buffy would probably whack her if she told her how cute she looked. "It was the way you said it."

"Uh-huh. Right. Well, I'll stick to Buffy if you want." Faith bit into her burger.

"No...it's okay." Buffy heaved a long-suffering sigh. "Whatever you want."

Faith laughed through her mouthful. "Fine. B it is."

Buffy blushed and smiled down at her own hamburger. Faith could hardly believe a simple nickname would affect her like that. Buffy's blush was absolutely adorable.

And where did she think she was going with thoughts like that? For one, Buffy had a boyfriend. She spent the night with him--it must be pretty hot and heavy. And besides that, they were not friends. Buffy didn't trust her. Faith was going to do an end-run around her and figure out what she wanted to know. She had the ability--and, apparently, she still had friends from before the coma. Mr. Green And Scaly might not be her first choice for a bosom buddy, but if he was going to tell her the truth, he had to be better than Buffy...

Except Faith wanted it to be Buffy.

If only.

Buffy pushed the remains of her hamburger aside. Faith realized she'd finished four while she was thinking. Obviously Buffy knew how much lunch to buy, after all.

She knew Faith so well.

Well, fuck her, if she didn't want to tell what she knew.

Buffy crumpled her garbage together and sat looking at the table for a minute. Faith could feel her nervousness. Her heart sped up, her hands felt cold. She dropped the last bite of her final burger. Buffy wanted to tell her something, but she didn't know how.

Maybe, at last...

"I got something for you," Buffy said. She smiled, like a sunrise, and Faith couldn't help but smile back. "Here."

Buffy slid a small black velvet box across the table. Jewelry? Faith held her breath. "What--?"

"Open it."

Faith bit her lip. Slowly, she lifted the box and clicked it open. On the silk bottom there lay a necklace with a silver cross hanging from it. Faith pulled it out of the box. "It's beautiful...but..."

"Here--let me put it on." Buffy leapt up and moved behind Faith. Faith felt her body warm as Buffy stood behind her. Obediently, she brushed her hair out of the way and gave the necklace to Buffy.

Buffy's fingers skimming over her neck made Faith shiver. The tiny hairs on the back of her neck stood up. She couldn't believe how much she was enjoying such a small touch. The necklace quickly warmed at the touch of her skin. Buffy fixed the clasp, then smoothed Faith's hair over it. Faith touched a finger to the cross. It fit in the hollow of her throat, just where her collarbones met. Buffy stood behind her for a moment longer before she abruptly moved back to her seat.

"It's..." Faith touched the cross again. "It's too much."

"No, it's, um...important," Buffy said. "I just--I wanted to--" She blushed. "Um, I wanted to get you something. Because, I'm sorry we've all been so..."

"Yeah." Faith felt her cheeks warm. Obviously the necklace wasn't just an apology. There was more to it than that. If Buffy didn't want to say...

Well, there was always the package. What Buffy didn't know about wouldn't hurt her.

Liar, Faith thought. She was hurt by what Buffy wasn't telling her.

"So, have you had enough shopping for one day?" Buffy asked.

"Are you kidding?" Faith tried to smile. It felt shaky. "I'm dead on my feet."

"Okay. Well, I have a lot of homework to do, so we can go home...you can hang out, watch movies, whatever, while I work. Then, tonight, I told Willow I'd meet her at the Bronze. It's a club. She's bringing a friend, and I thought maybe you'd want to go." Buffy hesitated, then added, "You love the Bronze."

"Sounds like a plan." Faith stood and grabbed her bags. "Let's go...B."

The ride home was quiet. Faith kept one hand on the bag that held her package. After Buffy pointed her to the living room and went upstairs to work, Faith took it out. The brown paper tore away easily. Inside, there was a video tape and a little metal gadget. It looked like a pair of scissors that someone had melted down and deformed, with too many finger-loops and a weird crystal thing in its centre. She fiddled with it, finding a way for it to fit over her left hand. The crystal bit went in the center of her palm, the loops around her fingers and thumb. Faith glanced towards the stairs, then put the video in Buffy's VCR. She turned on the television on with the volume down low.

On the screen, there appeared a friendly looking guy sitting behind a desk. The nameplate said "Mayor Richard Wilkins III."

Wilkins. This was her guardian. The man Nurse Owens had told her was dead. Faith leaned towards the television. She wanted to cry. This was the man who should have come for her when she woke up. He obviously didn't hate her. She tried to make sense of what he was saying, but mostly, she watched his eyes. Friendly. Believing in her.

Wilkins stepped out from behind the desk. "Now, Faith," he said, "As I record this message you're, uh...sleeping. And the doctors tell me that you might never wake up. I don't believe that. Sooner or later, you will wake up and when you do, you'll find the world has gone and changed on you."

"No shit," Faith breathed. She stared at the gizmo on her hand. This was supposed to make the world a better place for her?

Funny how she didn't really trust the messenger. Too many weird things had happened in the last two days. The green monster in the hallway had raised her hackles. Last night in the cemetery she'd had the same feeling. All her inner voices were urging her to kill him, screaming that he was the enemy. Buffy might not be truthful, but at least she didn't set Faith's interior alarm off. Faith wanted to trust her.

Anyway, what could this stupid doohickey do? Change the world? Yeah, right. She didn't even know what to do with it.

"And, hey, just because it's over for my Faith, doesn't mean she can't go out with a bang!" On screen, Wilkins chuckled. The scene faded. Faith sighed and started to take off the thing on her hand.

"Faith!"

Faith jumped. Buffy had crept up on her. "What?"

Buffy shook her head, unable to speak. Her green eyes filled with tears. "You--" she whispered. "You're still with him."

"With who?" Faith asked harshly. "I don't even know who he is--"

Rage filled Buffy's face. "I can't--I believed you didn't remember--and you were laughing at us, you played me--"

"No--Buffy, what the hell?"

"What is that?" Buffy made a grab for Faith's hand. Faith pulled away.

"It's nothing."

"A little parting gift from the Mayor? That's nothing?" Buffy's fists clenched. Without realizing what she was doing, Faith mirrored her, until they were staring at each other in the living room, both quivering on the edge of violence. "You bitch."

"You're so full of bullshit, Buffy!" Faith said. "You're a killer way more than I am! I saw you last night! Don't tell me that four guys disappearing is a regular night for you!"

"You followed me--"

"You didn't tell me anything! If this mayor guy will answer a few questions then I'm sure as hell going to listen--"

"I won't let you hurt my friends."

"Who said anything about--"

"Give it to me, Faith." Buffy held out her hand.

"What?" Faith took a step back. "No!" She'd beaten Buffy in the hospital...tossed her into a wall. She could do it again.

Buffy lunged for her. Faith tried to get out of the way, find a place to stand where she could pivot cleanly and send Buffy flying. Buffy was too fast. She grabbed Faith's hand to wrench the device away from her, and--

And there was a burst of light. Faith tried to gasp and couldn't breathe. She didn't have lungs. She didn't have a body. She was flying, dying, falling--just like all her dreams.

Part Seven

Buffy stared into her own face. She blinked, and her reflection blinked too, eyes wide with horror. "What...?" She couldn't finish the question. It was all too clear. Magic. Faith had lulled her into a false sense of security. Amnesia? Yeah, right. She should have known better than to think Faith would ever get over her hatred. Faith had always been jealous. She was still trying to steal Buffy's life. This time, literally.

Buffy yanked her hand back. It was the little device of the Mayor's that had done it. She grabbed Faith's wrist--that now looked exactly like her wrist--not bothering to hide her Slayer strength. She ripped the gadget off Faith's hand. She wanted to crush it out of existence. Just when she thought she could trust Faith again--just when she was almost ready to start over again--just when she had felt that there might be something between them...

"What the hell did you do to me?"

Buffy glanced up, startled. Even the voice was hers. How much damage had the spell done? Faith's face--her face--was white with shock. She looked terrified. She backed up a step, then another, as if Buffy was the monster here.

"I didn't do anything, Faith. Maybe next time you should read the instructions before you try to kill me!" Buffy clapped a hand over her mouth. Where the hell had that voice come from? Deep, husky, rough...almost a growl. She stared at her hand squeezing Faith's wrist. The skin was pale but still darker than it should be. Thin blue lines of veins showed beneath not enough flesh. The fingers were too long, gripping Faith's wrist tight enough to turn the knuckles white. Buffy could feel the hand, but it wasn't hers. She dropped Faith's arm like it was on fire.

"Oh, no. No. Tell me you didn't--" Buffy stopped talking in the voice that wasn't hers and settled for shaking her head mutely. She turned and ran for the bathroom. She slammed the door open and flicked on the light.

Faith gaped at her from the mirror. Her jaw hung open, anger and denial written on her features, her eyes dangerous and dark. Her mouth was forming the word "No" over and over again, but not making a sound. Buffy lifted her hands to touch her face...and the mirror-Faith copied her exactly. It was her reflection. Faith had switched their bodies.

Buffy started when her own face appeared in the mirror behind her. She whirled around, hands automatically curling into fists. "Undo it, Faith!"

Faith stared at her, then over her shoulder to the mirror. "You have got to be shitting me."

Buffy flinched away from hearing Faith's words in her voice. What had Faith done? How could she? And would they ever be able to undo it? Buffy pushed the fear down. "Whatever you did--" She held up the little twist of metal and crystal. She shoved it into Faith's chest, letting it drop between them. "--it's not going to work. Giles will figure it out--or Willow--" Buffy could hear her voice getting even rougher, desperation creeping into her tone, but she just pushed forward, shouldering Faith out of the bathroom. "I beat you once, and I'll do it again, I swear, if you don't fix this--"

Faith's eyes were getting wider and wider. Cords stood out in her neck, her shoulder. Muscles knotted in her shoulders, where her tank top left them bare. She coiled like a spring. When Buffy ran out of words to throw in her face, Faith exploded.

"Fuck you!" She launched herself at Buffy, slamming her face with an elbow and kicking her legs out from under her. Buffy felt her breath whoosh out of her as she hit the floor. Pain cracked the back of her head, flaring red and black across her vision. Buffy didn't even have time to gasp. Faith threw herself down on top of her. "Don't tell me what I did, don't fucking tell me what I'm like, I don't know, don't you fucking get it? I--don't--know!"

Buffy tried to get her knee between her body and Faith's. Faith fought like a wildcat. She wrestled Buffy to the ground. She didn't fight like the Slayer. There was nothing calculated or controlled in her assault. She punched randomly, not using the strength Buffy knew she had. She lashed out without a thought or a plan. Her face twisted. She looked crazy--psycho--

Seeing that look on her own face frightened Buffy more than the useless attack. She knew it was Faith, but those were her eyes, green and wide, her blonde hair streaming over her shoulders, her body struggling to pin Buffy down. Faith was crying like she didn't even know it was happening. Angry tears streamed down her face. She fought to control Buffy's arms, slapping them aside and trying to grip her wrists.

"Don't tell me, you bitch, you don't tell me anything..."

Buffy froze. Faith's words finally penetrated her anger. She could hear Faith's confusion, her desperation. Faith didn't know what was going on any more than Buffy did. She wasn't fighting for the sake of their grudges, but because Buffy had pushed her too hard--demanded too much. Buffy felt a lump settle in her throat, hard and painful. She'd let her suspicion take over and jumped to conclusions. No wonder Faith had attacked her. Buffy was lucky it hadn't happened sooner. With all the evasions and half-truths she'd tried to feed Faith, what could she expect?

Buffy had to turn this fight around. She twisted her arms inside Faith's and grabbed her forearms. Faith reared back. She wasn't fighting like a Slayer. She didn't really know what she was doing. Buffy did. With a sudden roll, she was on top, controlling Faith's kicks by wrapping their legs together. She panted, suddenly realizing how close their bodies were twined around each other. She could hardly tell which limbs were hers and which belonged to Faith.

"Stop...Faith...listen..." Buffy tried to sound reassuring, but Faith's voice just wasn't built for it. The words came out sounding almost seductive, both rough and soft, like broken velvet.

Faith stiffened in Buffy's hold. Buffy relaxed a fraction. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry..." Buffy whispered the apology, over and over. It felt incredibly good to say. She'd been holding the words back for so long that she'd been ready to explode if she didn't let them out. The truth, finally, the truth. "It's not your fault, I'm sorry..."

"What are you doing to me?" Faith's question was an incredulous murmur that Buffy only caught because of her Slayer hearing. Did she really sound like that? Was her voice so...whining, almost pleading? Or was that just Faith?

Faith had never sounded that way before, she was sure.

But this could no longer be about what Faith had been before.

"I'm going to let you up," she said. In Faith's voice, it sounded like a threat. "Please, Faith. Just...I'll explain. I promise."

Buffy backed off. It hurt to let Faith go. She hadn't allowed herself to feel their mutual Slayer tinglies at first. She couldn't trust herself to accept the warmth of them. Faith had called her on it in the hospital, and later, there had been the casual touches that came from living near each other. Buffy wouldn't let herself feel them. Not after last night. In the shower...Oh, God, she couldn't let Faith know what she did to her. Laying on top of Faith, Buffy felt the pleasure rush over her in a sudden wave. She had missed this...well, not this, but...training with Faith. Being able to touch her. In sparring sessions, and that sort of thing. Not like... Buffy shook her head to shut up her internal babble. She released Faith, hoping that she could control the face that wasn't hers. She had to hide what she felt.

She kept hold of Faith's hand, holding the Mayor's toy in the other. How could that bastard still cause so much trouble even after she'd blown him to boot leather? She'd have to keep the device to see if Willow or Giles could use it to reverse the spell. She wasn't about to go experimenting. Willow's accidental run-in with her vamp-twin had taught her that much.

Faith stood up slowly and glared at her. She shook her hand free, rejecting whatever Buffy had been offering her...not that Buffy knew what that was, herself. Comfort? Support? Something. Buffy wanted to cringe. Faith's expression on her face was so cold. The green eyes were like ice. No wonder people gave way before Buffy's anger. She never knew she could look so...forbidding.

"So? Spill." Faith crossed her arms, an eerily familiar gesture.

Buffy bit her lip. How was she supposed to start? The truth was way more difficult than it seemed at first, more complicated. She and Faith had always had an instinctive understanding. Even when they were enemies, they knew what the other one intended more often than not. It was what had made them such an amazing team. It was what had made that last fight on the rooftop so surprising. Buffy never would have thought Faith would jump...she never thought she could have stabbed Faith.

"In every generation a Slayer is born," she said. The words sounded wrong in Faith's voice, full of sarcasm. But maybe Giles' way was the best, after all.

"I know that much," Faith said, rolling her eyes. "So what the hell does it mean?"

"It means--what do you mean, you know?" Buffy frowned at her.

"I listened to you talking to Joyce and Giles. I followed you last night...the guy that got away from you called me that. And the ugly dude who gave me that thing." Faith waved at the gadget Buffy was holding.

Buffy stared at her. "That vampire came after you?"

Faith raised an eyebrow. "Vampire? What are you--"

"You must have slayed him, since you're...well, alive." Buffy's heart constricted at the thought of Faith facing a vamp without even knowing what he was. Faith was staring at her in disbelief. Buffy realized she'd have to explain. "You shoved a stake in his heart and he turned to dust, right?" she asked.

"Yeah," Faith said softly. "I killed him. So there you go. I just can't seem to shake the evil thing." She glanced up at Buffy, green eyes glimmering through the sooty fall of eyelashes. "I am a murderer."

"No! Faith, that's not...you're not evil." Buffy took a step towards her, but Faith flinched back. It was so weird, seeing fear on her own face...seeing how small and vulnerable her own body looked. And how did she look to Faith? The body she wore was overpowering at the best of times, brash and confident. She didn't know how to be herself in it. She shied away from Faith, trying not to overwhelm her. "He was a vampire. Like, fangs and bloodsucking and demony. Vampires are real. We are vampire slayers. We protect people. We're not evil. We're the heroes."

"Yeah. Right." Faith looked away. "I thought you were gonna be straight with me, B. For once."

Buffy tamped down her anger. Why couldn't Faith believe her, trust her?

Well, all the lying she'd done might be a clue.

"Listen, Faith, I know you've felt it," she said. She rubbed her hands together and started pacing, staring down at her arms, her legs...her chest. She blushed and tried to focus on the conversation. "Your hearing, your eyesight...all our senses are enhanced. And you're stronger than you know. And if you dusted that vampire, you must remember how to fight. It's an instinct, you can't not slay, I know. I didn't want to, for years, but even when I ran away from it I couldn't stop...it's too--"

"Good," Faith finished, when Buffy stopped. "It feels right."

Buffy tried to laugh, smoothing down the tiny hairs on her arms that stood up at attention when she talked about the slaying. Faith's body was so responsive. Did she feel this much all the time? No wonder she'd always needed one night stands to calm down. "It's destiny," she said, in that dark-as-smoke voice that made everything sound like a come-on.

"And this?" Faith waved at the two of them. "I swear I didn't know--"

"I know. I just thought...never mind." Buffy frowned. "Magic's real too, and that's what I think this is. A body switching spell."

"I barely got used to that body, and now we're stuck like this?" Faith asked. She flicked her fingers as if she didn't expect them to move the way she wanted. "No offense. I mean, you're hot and all, but I just think I'd rather be me...even a me I don't remember."

"You think I'm hot?"

Faith smirked at her, then down at the body she wore, grinning.

Buffy closed her eyes and cursed herself for blurting out that particular question. Especially after last night with Riley. Back up, don't think about it, that is so not the point of this conversation.

Fortunately, Faith wasn't making an issue of it. Still staring down at herself, she asked, "Are we gonna be able to switch back?"

Buffy shrugged. "I don't know. I don't know anything about it. Except the Mayor had something to do with it."

Faith glanced at the television. "He was my guardian. He was proud of me."

Buffy nodded. "He...he was evil, Faith. He was a demon."

"Fuck." Faith slid down to sit on the couch, staring at the dark screen. "That's what I did, isn't it? I helped him. I was evil."

Buffy circled the couch and sat beside her. Holding her breath, she dared to place a hand on Faith's back, staring at the cornsilk hair that should be hers. "You made a mistake."

Faith shrugged--not to push Buffy's hand away, but as if to say that there was no real difference.

"You saved me, in the end, when I had to fight him," Buffy said, stroking her hand down Faith's back. "I never got to thank you for that."

Faith leaned back, trapping Buffy's hand between her back and the couch. "Is that how I really got hurt? Because I know it was no car accident."

Buffy felt her blood turn to ice. "No," she said, surprised that she was able to get the word out without choking. Automatically, she glanced at Faith's stomach. Of course the scar wasn't there. It was on her body now. She slid her free hand under her t-shirt, over her flat stomach, feeling the rough ridge of tissue running in a ragged line just below her ribs. She shuddered as her body interpreted the touch way differently than she'd meant it. God, she couldn't control herself. She wanted to feel so much more. The Slayer connection wasn't confused by the body switch. She could feel it through her hand on Faith's back, and where their thighs were pressed together. Buffy bit back a sigh.

"I have this dream..." Faith said slowly, watching Buffy carefully. "Where I'm being hunted. Where I'm killed. It's the same knife, every time, except I can't see who's holding it." Faith's eyes dropped to Buffy's hand. Buffy jerked it away from the scar. "It was you, wasn't it."

It wasn't a question. Buffy stood up. She yanked free of Faith. If only her confusion could be shaken away that easily. This body reminded her too much of her past mistakes. She couldn't act right, couldn't think right, couldn't even look at herself or at Faith. There was so much that was wrong with the whole situation. Faith was being way too calm, for one. Buffy thought as soon as Faith knew that she was the reason Faith had lost eight months of her life, that she'd attack, go crazy, whatever. How could Faith just look at her like that? Sitting there, studying her, and using her expressions to do it with!

Buffy felt like she'd lost herself. Like there was nothing left to hang on to in her life, no place for her to stand and be herself.

This must be what it's like for Faith, she thought, not remembering anything. God, how selfish can you get? She's way worse off than you right now.

But she couldn't force herself to go back to the couch. Why did Faith have to come back? Things were good now. Faith only brought back emotions Buffy thought she'd forgotten. "We have to find a way to switch back," she said. She ignored Faith's accusation. They both knew it was true. She was more eager to get her body back than to dig into that history.

"No kidding. And you have a plan to do that how?" Faith tipped her head back on the couch, pouting.

Buffy smiled at the sight. Faith used to tease her endlessly about that pout. Seeing her do it made it...cuter.

Faith cocked an eyebrow at her, and Buffy realized she'd been staring. She ducked her head to hide her blush. "God, this is such a wig," she said. "Seeing you like that."

"Feeling's mutual." Faith held her hands out, staring at them. "What the hell do we do now? Just say abracadabra and hope something works?"

"Willow," Buffy said.

"You wanna go to her party tonight like this?" Faith asked. "Kinky."

"No--Willow's a witch. We have to tell her what happened. We'll give her the thingy to look at." Buffy winced. "She isn't going to be too happy about this. But Giles would be worse. When he's mad he makes this clicky sound in his throat..." She sighed and checked her watch, then realized it was on Faith's wrist now, not hers. She leaned over the couch and took Faith's arm. Faith raised her eyebrows and Buffy stepped back quickly, embarrassed. "We can go now. We might be early."

"What, like this?"

Buffy frowned at Faith. "What do you mean?"

Faith was starting to grin. It was a strange expression on Buffy's face--it looked almost as dangerous as when she had her own body. "You're telling me that magic is real. Your best friend's a magician--"

"Witch."

"Whatever. And you...we are, like...hot chicks with superpowers. We can't go like this!" Faith waved at their clothes. "Come on, B, find the fun a little. After Willow waves her wand, you're never gonna get a chance like this again...to be someone else for a while, right?"

Buffy rolled her eyes. "Barring other freaky spells? I really hope not."

"So let's do this right." Faith grabbed her bags of new clothes. She started up the stairs to Buffy's bedroom. She turned back when Buffy didn't follow her. She waggled her eyebrows, leering a little. "Don't tell me you don't want to find out what my body is capable of."

Heat washed through Buffy at Faith's words. She fought to keep control of her breathing. This was not happening. "You are not going to test drive my body, Faith!"

"We'll see about that," Faith said. "I'm gonna make you look so sexy..." She disappeared up the stairs.

Buffy glanced down at Faith's body. She'd never been so...that is, there was so much...Oh, hell. She ran her hands down her sides, over the soft cotton of the t-shirt. She shivered. Lightly, she trailed her fingers over the skin of her sides. Her stomach dipped in, the muscles quivering under her hands. She stroked her thighs, feeling the taut strength of her legs beneath the denim. She slid her hands upwards, ignoring her brain screaming that this was so very, very wrong. She palmed her breasts, feeling the soft, heavy weight of them. God, that was good. Her nipples hardened, and she wondered what they looked like beneath the shirt. Darker than hers, she imagined, and a bit larger, and...fuck. Faith was right. She did want to know exactly what this body could do.

But she wanted to find out while she was herself. This was just...weird.

And that thought was even weirder. She wanted...Faith. She wanted to--to touch her, like this, to give Faith the pleasure she was feeling now.

No. No. She couldn't be thinking that. Faith would regain her memories soon...already she was acting more and more like her old self. "Find the fun"? Not a good idea, not now. When Faith remembered--for real--she wasn't going to want to hang around Sunnydale longer than it took to get her revenge. Buffy couldn't want Faith...because all Faith would want was to run.

And what about Riley? Buffy jerked her mind away from the thought of him. Things hadn't been going well with him in a long time. It took Faith's awakening to remind her of why. He couldn't even get her off last night. Right now, looking at Faith's body in her own hands, she was closer than she'd been then...

Shit. She had to stop this.

What was Willow going to think when they showed up at the Bronze like this? Buffy had agreed to meet Tara. Showing up in Faith's body, and dragging Faith along in hers, was not the way the evening was supposed to go. Poor Willow. Every time Buffy tried to have best-friend time with her, something Hellmouthy had to happen to wreck it. Would Willow even be willing to help them fix this?

Would she even know how? Buffy bit her lip and forced herself not to think about what her life would be like if she was stuck like this forever. It couldn't happen. There had to be a reversal spell. Focus on that.

Oh, right. It was just that simple. And what was Faith doing with her body right now? If her own actions were anything to judge by, then Buffy really didn't want to be dwelling on that question either.

Buffy heard the sudden spray of water from the bathroom.

Question answered.

"Faith!" She ran for the stairs. "Get my body out of that shower!"

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