Faith can't remember which one of them shoved the other out here, but there's a broken window above them and glass at their feet. The cold air only seems cool to her after the fight inside, and the sky is black and starless.
Buffy stares at her, all steel and vengeance, gripping a dagger she doesn't own and looking ready to use it. She's finally fighting without cute quips and sweatpants, and it suits her.
"That's mine," Faith snarls, feeling the rage rise and knowing that this is going to end with one or both of them dead.
"You're about to get it back," she replies through gritted teeth. Faith's sure she hurt her badly and is only sorry she didn't do worse.
She raises a makeshift weapon and so does Buffy, who throws a punch she dodges before flipping her onto some crates, blonde hair flying everywhere. Faith runs over to grab her by the shoulders and her plan to toss her off the building is shot to hell when her own arms are being gripped tightly.
They stare at each other for a moment, and they both know that the option of backing down is completely gone. This is to the death. Adrenaline rushes through her system and she realises that she can't remember the last time she had a fight this good. "Man, I've missed this!" Faith pants, exhilarated, and determined to share this moment with her.
Buffy's stare is cold where Faith's is passionate, and when she lets go, Faith is half a second away from throwing her off the building. That half-second is all it takes to be stabbed with her own dagger.
She pulls the dagger out, and Faith is in so much pain she can only gasp. A numb feeling is starting to settle into every one of her muscles. The only good thing about this is that she can't feel her wound much anymore, even though she can touch the startlingly hot blood and looks down at the dark patch spreading across her shirt. Buffy looks horrified in that quiet way that means she's a few seconds away from a total breakdown.
"You did it," Faith whispers, and she can't stop smiling. She's made Buffy into her. She had seen what kind of Slayer she could have been, all that rebellious energy, and it's finally complete. When she dies, her job is finished.
Buffy keeps staring at her like she's about to cry or scream or run away, and Faith punches her in the mouth. It knocks her flat on her back, and she doesn't try to get up.
Standing above her, holding her stomach, she shook her hair out of her face. "You killed me," Faith gasps, and she knows that she is the real victor here, even if she's the one trying to keep all her blood from draining out of her. Buffy can only look at her with those wide eyes.
She glances down at the ground she was planning to kill herself with, and notices a truck. If her timing is right, she could land on it.
Faith staggers up to the edge, and Buffy obviously knows what she's planning, but she doesn't move. There's no way she'll ever let a vampire drain her, and if Slayer's blood is the only cure to that poison arrow, Angel is dead too. "Still won't help your boy, though."
Shock begins to wear off, and Buffy's face turns into pure horror at what has happened and what will happen. Faith thinks distantly that if she could just get over herself, she could have something resembling fun. She can hear the truck now, and she only wishes that they'd been able to feel the same rush that came with killing. All Buffy seems to be able to do is stare.
"Should've been there, B," she says with a smile, standing on unsteady legs on the brink of something metaphorical or other. The truck will be gone soon, and of all the last words she could've chosen, she finishes with three.
"Quite a ride."
Faith falls through black, stagnant air and is unconscious before she lands.