A/N: For Ruby. I'm sorry it took so long.

PART ONE

"Buffy?" Faith questions, throwing the word out like a lifeline. She doesn't know what makes her say it. What makes her voice crack just the slightest bit. What makes her want to use the other Slayer's full name instead of just her nickname. Faith can count on one hand the amount of times she's used Buffy's name, and none of them felt like this.

The ache in her chest is so fierce, she feels as though someone has reached in and ripped it straight out of her chest. Coming to Sunnydale had been a spur of the moment decision. Trusting Buffy had been a slow process. But it had happened. And Buffy - beautiful, smart, quick-witted Buffy - had let her down.

More than anything, Faith thinks the ache in her chest is her own damn fault. She shouldn't have trusted Buffy. Coming to Sunnydale, she'd wanted to meet Buffy, whisk her away and start a fun-filled life that consisted of them, vamps, and nothing else. Boy, what an idea that had been.

Now, Faith feels the all-too-familiar pain that she registers as being betrayal. She let someone in and they destroyed the fragile part of herself that she let them see. It's what's happened her entire life, so she's not sure exactly what makes this time so painful. What causes her heart to physically ache in her chest, and tears to prick at the backs of her eyes.

"What?" the blonde asks, the word a cross between a harsh snap and a curious question. Faith doesn't know which part to respond to, and her brain is already hitting panic stations. She can't let Buffy in again. It's only going to cause more pain.

Buffy lied about Angel.

Gwendolyn lied about being her watcher.

She's let too many people in lately. And it's destroying her.

Faith swallows around the lump that's somehow formed in her throat.

"Nothing."

Faith wants to shout so much. She wants to ask Buffy to stay. She wants to beg Buffy to welcome her back in. She wants to ask for help, to scream from the rooftops that she's so tired of doing this alone, that she's so lonely. But she swallows the words down before they even have the chance to form. She stops the pain before it's got a chance to bite her in the ass.

And so Buffy leaves.

Faith supposes she can't really blame her. She did practically push the other Slayer out the door. But it's for both of their own good, really. Faith heaves a sigh, trying to remember that. It's going to be better in the long run.

Faith doesn't hear the TV, doesn't pick up the magazine she's discarded, doesn't even move, for a solid fifteen minutes. Well, that's how long she assumes it is. She's too lost in thought and memory to really pay attention to petty things such as time.

Her stomach growls loudly, reminding her that food is a necessary thing. She slides out of bed, figuring she'll make a detour to the toilet on her way. As she's washing her hands, she notices the swollen jaw, the discolouration on her skin that's courtesy of her sister Slayer. Fury rises up inside her, cold and bitter, and she bites the inside of her cheek as she walks out into her main room. The pole she's covered with pillows has a small face drawn on it, and she punches it as hard as she can. Her knuckles, already sore from the earlier fight, protest loudly, but she ignores them. She pounds the pillowed pole until she's struggling to breath, tears are streaming down her cheeks and her whole body is aching. Her muscles are screaming from overuse, her limbs are crying out in pain, and her stomach is complaining loudly about its lack of food. Faith gives in to the aches that overwhelm her systems, shutting out everything that's not pain or hunger. It helps to take the focus away from the ache deep in her chest, the one that doesn't seem to go away no matter how many things she punches, no matter how many vamps she stakes, no matter how many hours she cries.

So she gives in to it all, lying with her arms outstretched on the worn carpet of her motel room, tears still leaking from her eyes and running down her temples.

God, sometimes Buffy Summers makes her want to die.

PART TWO

The music pulses loudly around them, and Faith grabs Buffy's hand as they dance, letting the beat flow from their feet to their fingertips. It's a song she doesn't recognise, something with a fast techno beat that causes her whole body to relax and re-energise at the same time. Dancing has always been a way to work off all that post-Slaying hype, and it's become her favourite energy release since arriving in Sunnydale. It helps that Buffy's here with her, dancing less than a foot away, hips swaying and hair flicking and fingers tightening in Faith's as they draw closer.

There are males around them, Faith's aware of that. Their hands glancing over her shoulders, her hips, her hair. But each of their touches pales in comparison to the death grip the other Slayer has on her hands, the heat of Buffy's palm against her own. Up until this point, her eyes have been shut, letting the music thrum in her veins and take over her being. Now, Faith allows her eyes to open, focusing on the girl in front of her.

Buffy happens to look up at the same time, and the eye contact sends a spark of electricity skittering down Faith's spine. The fingers wrapped around hers squeeze lightly, and draw her almost imperceptibly closer. Faith complies easily, stepping away from the guy that's decided to dance up against her back, her eyes never leaving Buffy's. They're drawing closer, closer, and Faith's breath catches in her chest.

It's not like she's downplayed her attraction to the blonde. Hell, if anything, she's tried to be pretty obvious about it. Buffy is gorgeous and smart and sassy and Faith's attraction to her has always been in the back of her mind. But she'd never expected Buffy to return it. Maybe it's the slaying, maybe it's the cutting class, maybe it's just being around Faith, but something's loosened inside of Buffy, and Faith can't find it in herself to be upset about that.

Despite the thumping music around them, and the dim chatter of the club's other occupants, she could swear that the volume of the entire world is turned down. There is only Buffy. Her fingers still twined in Faith's, her body swaying and sliding less than an inch from Faith's own. Each time Buffy lets out a raspy exhale, Faith feels the warm air caress her lips. Their bodies are drawn together like magnets, and every cell in Faith's body is humming with energy as their skin touches. Buffy's lips brush hers, once, twice, and then - through some miracle - they're kissing, and Faith doesn't know of anything better in the world.

Buffy's lips are hot and insistent on hers, her hands scraping up Faith's sides, one tangling in her hair and the other toying with the hem on her tank top. Faith is so in shock that she's sluggish to respond, and Buffy pulls away when she's clearly not showing enough enthusiasm.

"Faith?" the blonde's voice is strong, but questioning, and Faith can see the glimmer of uncertainty in her eyes. She's taken a chance, and she's worried that Faith isn't going to reciprocate. Oh, but that is where she is wrong.

Faith swoops down and captures the other Slayer's lips with her own, one hand slipping around the small of Buffy's back and drawing her close, pressing their bodies flush against each other. When Faith feels Buffy's hands seize her hips, gripping them so tightly she's sure they'll bruise, Faith slips her own hand under the skin of the other girl's tank top and presses her palm to the warm, tan skin she finds waiting there. By now, Buffy's tongue is in her mouth and it feels like every single one of Faith's nerve endings are on fire.

And in all her years, in all her fights and all her conquests, Faith is only sure of one thing.

That never ever in her life has she felt more alive.