It was just a letter.

Just one, stupid, could-be-random letter of the alphabet.

But it did things to Buffy – had always done crazy, insane things to Buffy. It wasn't like they were friends – hell, right now they were barely tolerating each other – but every time Faith called her by that stupid letter that just so happened to be the first in her name, and the second in the alphabet, Buffy saw so much potential in what they could be, and her heart broke at the reminder of what they were.

Faith had come back to help, and Buffy couldn't deny that without her, she and the rest of Sunnydale would have been screwed. The First was not a nemesis to be taken on alone, and the large crater that used to be Sunnydale attested to that.

But she and Faith's relationship was strained. There was no way that it couldn't be, after all that they had said and done to each other. There was so much between them; so much tension, so many words and apologies that went unheard, so much explanation and hurt and anger. There was so much water trying to flood between them that Buffy was sure trying to build a bridge over it would be impractical.

But Buffy wanted it.

Faith had always represented complication in her life. Contention. Pain. Heartbreak. Fear. Regret. But she wished so badly that they could be something else, because when she called her by that one, stupid, not-so-random letter of the alphabet –

"Ready for a pit stop, B?"

Buffy's insides burned with the fierce desire that had always lurked beneath the surface with Faith. She'd felt all kinds of disturbed by it at first, and all kinds of guilty for it later as she fought Faith's desperation, envy, and anger in that tragic battle that had sent Faith comatose for eight months. But now she was resigned to that lust, that freakish yearning she'd felt inside to be something… different, something more with Faith, something so much better to put their passion toward that didn't involve hateful words and flying fists.

And, being resigned to that feeling, Buffy had no choice but to… well, feel it. She called back an affirmative, shifting restlessly in her seat, feeling dirty, exhausted, and pathetically unable to think of anything but her darker counterpart.

Thoughts of their battle, of their losses, of the massive victory they'd just scored would come. She would make arrangements for all of the new slayers, help them train, figure out just what came next in their seemingly never-ending fight against evil. But right now, Faith was her distraction. Buffy would be fooling herself if she tried to call Faith anything else.

Seriously. Faith was built for distraction… Built, and toned, and all kinds of lean and sexy. She was like the epitome of sex.

But that was the problem, wasn't it? Even if she and Faith could manage to wade through some of the muck between them, Buffy wasn't stupid. She knew she could never be content with just sex, and Faith really didn't seem the type to want more. Buffy would grant that the girl had changed – that she had matured and seemed to be getting her ducks and appropriating them to their proper place in line – but that didn't change who Faith was.

Okay, maybe that wasn't fair. Buffy didn't know for certain just who Faith was, and she wasn't sure that she'd ever known, but that had always been Buffy's impression of Faith.

When the bus screeched to an unhappy stop, the girls filed out solemnly to use the bathroom and grab some dinner from the fast-food joint they'd pulled out in front of. Buffy followed after them, trying to smile a little reassuring smile at Dawn as her little sister passed by, gazing over at Buffy with concern.

She tried to enjoy the inhalation of fresh air as she descended the steps of the old bus, but when her eyes stuck on Faith, leaning casually against the corner of the building and out of the way, Buffy found there were much better things to enjoy than fresh air.

Because, really, who needs air when there's a hot chick shrouding herself in an irresistibly hazy swirl of smoke?

Buffy found herself walking toward the dark-haired beauty that was Faith, and didn't question it. She'd always been drawn to her; Buffy was sure that she always would be. She idly wondered if Faith could feel it, too, but didn't want to ask. She was sure that could lead nowhere good.

She watched a dark brow hitch upward as Faith grinned non-judgmentally and asked, "Tryin' to bum a smoke, B?"

Buffy smiled back tiredly and leaned against the wall beside her. "I wasn't," she began quietly, "but I might."

Faith's expression contorted to one of surprise as she looked Buffy over and took a puff of her cigarette before wordlessly offering it to the other slayer.

Buffy had never been much of a smoker. She'd only drunkenly tested it out once or twice at school. Generally, she found that her mouth tasted like an ashtray when she was finished, and she found it unpleasant. But that quick little high from the nicotine sounded… absolutely delicious right now, so Buffy stretched out her hand and accepted the offering, taking a long pull and exhaling it slowly.

Faith looked curious, and ready to explode with questions, but she also looked uncomfortable, and like she realized she wasn't in a good place to ask. Instead, she muttered, "Never woulda pegged you for a smoker."

Buffy shook her head. "Not usually, but…" She shrugged. "Let's call it an extenuating circumstance."

"Do what ya want," Faith offered with a different sort of smile than Buffy was used to from her. "Hell, you deserve a smoke and a good, hard fuck for what you did today, B. You were amazing."

Buffy blushed, an immediate picture of Faith taking every kind of liberty with Buffy's slightly smaller frame embedding itself in her mind.

Faith chuckled, and said, "Jesus, B, I didn't mean to break ya. I was just sayin'… You've been stressing out a lot and nothing cures tension like doin' the nasty."

Buffy idly connected Faith's line of thought to the similar one she'd had on the bus, but there was no way Buffy could tell her that the only person she wanted fucking her was standing right beside her. But she couldn't help herself from playing with Faith's words. Maybe it was to scope out Faith's feelings, or maybe it was just the 'harmless' flirting that she and Faith had always maintained, but it escaped her mouth before her brain had time to filter it out.

"Wish somebody had told us that before we resulted to kicking each other in the head. I love a good fight every now and then, but I'm pretty sure there were better things we could've done with all that… tension."

Faith laughed – a low, husky thing that spawned butterflies in Buffy's stomach. "Hey, if I'da known your boat floated in my direction, pretty sure we wouldn't have come to blows about much other than who got to be on top."

Buffy's brows rose quickly, and her heart thundered an uncomfortable rhythm in her chest.

"Don't tell me that surprised ya, B," Faith shook her head, the ends of a chuckle still tumbling from her lips. "We always had a thing, you and me – y'know, before I went and fucked it all up," she shrugged, like she'd accepted it as truth, and continued. "We were pretty tight once upon a time."

"We were," Buffy agreed gently, feeling something foreign creep up on her – some feeling that wasn't her own. She shifted edgily, and held her hand out for another puff of Faith's cigarette. "Pretty sure that's why I was so upset when things… changed."

Faith glanced downward at her shoes for a moment, then looked up at Buffy with sincere, vulnerable, weighted eyes. "I messed up, B. I know we didn't talk much about it before, with The First and the slayage and all the other stuff goin' on, but I am sorry, for all of it. I went too far. I got lost and tangled, and I made mistakes. I ain't justifying anything. Just sayin'," she said uncomfortably. "Thought you should know."

Buffy looked at her and could somehow feel the sincerity in Faith's words, calming the sudden bout of anger that threatened her control. Instead, she sighed tiredly and shook her head. "We all made mistakes, Faith."

"Not quite like mine," Faith snorted.

Buffy tilted her head curiously. "If you don't think you deserve forgiveness, then why did you apologize?"

"I didn't say I didn't deserve – " Faith tousled a hand in her ruffled hair, and Buffy instantly wished she was afforded the opportunity to do it, too. Faith shook her head and shrugged, "Like I said: thought you should know."

Buffy smiled uneasily, unsure of where this strange moment was coming from. "I already knew it, Faith," she said tenderly. "I've thought about it a lot, you know? You and me, and where we went all topsy-turvy. I think it mostly comes down to the fact that we were just kids, back then. Just stupid, impressionable, ruled-by-our-emotions kids, with some added superpowers that made us more dangerous than most. Especially together."

There was a pause between them, full of acceptance and chances and losses, but Buffy shrugged, and carefully said, "We weren't ready for each other yet, Faith."

"Think we're ready now?" Faith asked, smiling hesitantly, unsure of how she meant that herself.

Feeling that there was more to the question than just whether or not the two could tolerate to be in each others' presence, Buffy replied thoughtfully, "I think we could be."

"Ya think?" Faith prodded hopefully.

"We've got a lot of stuff between us, Faith, and that's not just going to go away. But I don't really know that I could stand to have you out of my life again like you were, either. I think we need each other, Faith. And I think we could be ready for each other if we both acknowledge it."

Faith nodded solemnly, crushing her cigarette with her boot and tucking her hands into her pockets.

They watched in silence as Giles began herding the girls back onto the bus, some of them whining, and some of them wisely taking the opportunity to squeeze in another stretch. The two slayers joined the rest of their fleet, and ignored the curious and questioning eyes as they sat themselves beside each other toward the back of the bus.

Something had changed. It wasn't a big thing, but Buffy could feel a shift within herself. There was hope. Maybe she and Faith couldn't completely salvage their friendship right away, but there was hope for… something.

And a niggling feeling that didn't belong to her was freakishly telling her that Faith was excited by that prospect as well.