The two of them wait in a small, dusty room, dimly lit by a cobweb-coated window in a corner. Very prison-like. Very uncomfortable.

"I knew the slayer before you," Buffy cuts into the silence. "If you had told me five years ago that I'd live to see two generations of slayers I'd have called you out of your mind." She laughs.

"If I recall correctly, you died to see them."

Buffy shoots her a look, to which Faith just smirks. She pushes herself off the table to look get a better look at Buffy, sitting in the corner.

"This story got a point B? Or is this just gonna be some shitty trip down memory lane? Cause if that's the case, I'd rather go back to wallowing in my dread."

"Her name was Kendra," the blonde continues, ignoring the other girl's eye roll. "She was your polar opposite: calm, composed, completely dedicated to the slaying in a serious, business-like manner. And she didn't as much as talk to boys," she adds, eyeing Faith.

"She sounds stuffy as hell," Faith—who had resumed her original position on the creaky table—comments. After a brief pause, she continues in little more than a whisper.

"And like the kind of slayer everyone dreams of."

"She was," Buffy responds, watching the brunette's face. "I'll never stop regretting not being able to save her life."

"This is a real feel-good story B," Faith drolls.

"But…" Buffy can no longer look Faith in the eyes, "But if I had to do it all over again," she pauses, taking a raggedy breath, "I wouldn't change a thing."

Buffy finally steals a glance at Faith's impassive face. "I guess that makes me a pretty bad person." She forces a laugh. It feels hollow even to her own ears.

There's a long silence.

"You should hate me."

"I think so too," Buffy agrees.

"But you don't."

A pause. "No. No I don't."

Faith pulls a hand through her hair. "Jesus B, stop getting all sappy on me. Slayers die, life goes on; it's kind of in the job description." The brunette adopts her usual mocking tone, and Buffy sighs.

"Faith, all I'm saying is that whatever happens tonight—however things go down—I'm glad I got to be slayer with you." Buffy closes her eyes and leans against the wall. She knows Faith well enough to know she's not going to respond.

But she also knows her well enough to know that any lack of a snide comment from Faith is basically a full on thank you.

She smiles at this thought, and squirms to find a more comfortable position as they wait for night to fall and determine their fates.