A/N: Feedback? Anyone? Anyone?

Buffy had the vague idea that, from the front seat, Riley was saying something about some country he and Sam had just come from, some terrible demon they had just "bagged," some exciting mission or another. Faith wasn't listening, looking instead out the window. Buffy, next to her in the backseat, wondered whether that bullet had gone through her lung, then wondered if she still had lungs, then wondered what she could possibly have inside her if it wasn't still all the things that had been inside her before she died.

"Your Kevlar officially sucks, you know."

Riley stopped talking mid-sentence and turned around in the passenger seat to look back at Buffy, who seemed, he thought, even paler than before.

"Are you okay? It's not designed to handle shots from that close range—"

"I bet that's what you tell all your ex's."

"—and it's not really designed to handle the sort of firepower we can bring."

Buffy raised an eyebrow at him.

He continued, by way of explanation. "There was some concern that we be able to control any rogue agents."

A pause. "Your world is a scary one."

He raised an eyebrow right back at her. "No more than yours, apparently." She could tell he was still upset about her little withholding of information. And she could swear she saw his eyes flicker over to Faith. Out of the corner of her eye, she could tell the dark slayer was still staring into the early morning, but she could see the tenseness in her jaw. And underneath that jaw, the half-healed reminder of her own bite. Buffy shut her eyes. Riley went on. "Is it bad? We could try a hospital...."

"Then you can just drop me the fuck off first." This from Faith at the same time Sam said: "Riley, she's dead and she's been shot."

The young man furrowed his brow at the dark slayer before looking over at his wife, who caught the look and went on.

"I'm just saying that those conditions might provoke some attention we don't need."

"S'alright. No hospital for me. One way or the other I'll live. Relatively speaking." She looked at Faith, then out the window past her. "Besides, there's no time."

And, thankfully, they pulled into the drive.

Inside, Buffy hurried for the basement door, Faith at one side. Dawn took the other, stopping only long enough to give Riley an eyebrow and an "Agent Finn returns," before she left him to someone else's welcome wagon.

Riley introduced his own wife, shook hands with Xander.

"Hey, there's the man. Life taker, heartbreaker." A pause. "Gonna be me, you know. Us. The marriage thing, not the life-taker thing."

"Hey, congratulations, Xander! I know you're going to love it."

"Anya and me, tomorrow." His eyes opened wide. "Wow...tomorrow."

Riley clapped a hand on his shoulder. "Deep breaths."

"You must stay."

Riley looked over at Anya, then raised an eyebrow at Xander. "Um...."

"You and Sam are very all-American. That's the sort of thing we need in our pictures."

Xander put his arm around Anya's waist. "I don't know, honey. Our families might actually be more representative of America." He grinned at Riley. "Which is not to say you couldn't stay to help keep the peace."

Riley opened his mouth to say something, but was cut off by Willow coming down the stairs. "Will that be with or without the paramilitary costume?" The redhead quirked an eyebrow at him, but smiled as he pulled her into a hug. She frowned a little as she spotted Sam over his shoulder. "Uh oh, there's more. It must be serious. Did you leave the rest of your platoon on the porch?"

"Willow!" His greeting turned to shock as he saw the angry bruise on her chin, the fading finger marks around her throat. "What did this?"

"Faith." She waved him off. "Long story."

He frowned, looking over at Xander, whose own look was serious. "Well, um...anyway, this is Sam, my wife. And I'm afraid there is somewhat of a problem with a demon. I came for Buffy's help, but...." He looked over at Sam, whose face told him there would be more discussion about this. Willow caught the look.

"Well, we're all here to help. That's what we do—"

"Except when we hinder."

Willow shot Anya a glance, then turned back to Riley and then to Sam. "I'm going to go—" She pointed in the direction of the basement.

"Is there anything I can do to help? I think Sam's bullet went through and through, but—"

Willow looked, startled, over at the brunette, eyes flickering down to the weapon at her hip. From behind her, Xander grumbled that "apparently we aren't the only ones who hinder."

Anya looked up from the seating charts. "You know that a bullet won't—"

Sam cut in. "We have wooden ones. For vampires."

"Oh, well, in that case, you're just a bad shot." And the blonde went back to her arrangements.

"I still don't understand how I missed—"

Riley cut her off. "Sam."

She caught his tone. "Right."

Willow gave Sam one last look. "Guess I'll grab the first aid kit then. Nice to meet you." And then went down to find Buffy.

As she entered the basement, she walked into the middle of a discussion of Buffy's new furniture.

"Faith, it's a sleigh bed." Buffy was leveling a look at the brunette, incredulous. "I mean, it's really pretty and everything, but—"

"See, I tried to tell Xander it wasn't funny, but then he said it was and he started snickering and then the salesman was looking at us funny and I started snickering. And, anyway, here's your new bed." She spread her hands out as if to show it off, then dropped them back down to her thighs and stuffed them deep in her pockets.

The bed had been nestled into a corner of the room. Buffy suspected that Dawn was responsible for there being a rug underneath and a lamp providing softer light than the lone bare bulb of the room. They'd even moved a dresser full of her clothes down.

"Well, I think it's nice." Dawn was bouncing a little on the edge of it.

"So do I. I love it. Thank you, Faith. Really." She smiled at the other girl, seeing those brown eyes take it in. Then all of them turned to look back down at the bed. "And so many pillows."

"Okay, I'll take the blame for that one. You seemed like the pillow type. But I got in the department with the pillows and shit, and it was sort of scary, so I panicked." She shrugged. The bed was nearly eclipsed by them

Dawn smirked. "I'm so going to spread the word about this."

"Dawn." A warning from Buffy, who then turned back to Faith. "Pillows are of the good."

"So, I hear you're the girl I don't want to mess with in a pillow fight?"

Buffy, Faith, and Dawn all whirled to find Willow looking a little uncertain at the foot of the stairs.

Faith narrowed her eyes, then breezed past her up and out the basement door, saying she was "going for a smoke."

Willow watched her go, then looked back to see Buffy watching her go, and then Buffy meeting her eyes. Willow felt her mouth go a little dry. "I'm sorry I took your bed. It was just, you know, with Tara, and she'd rather, so I—"

Buffy gave a nod to her little sister, who caught the message and left the two old friends alone. Willow injected a little bounce in her step and came over with the first aid kit next to Buffy. The blonde moved gingerly to perch on the edge of the bed. "S'okay. I wasn't going to use it up there anyway." She met the redhead's eyes. "How are you and Tara?"

Willow's face sank a little. "She says she's angry. I'm trying to give her a little space." Then a glimmer of a smile. "But, oh, yesterday morning we made pancakes together for Dawn! There wasn't a lot of talking, but there was batter, and joint effort!" She tried to look hopeful, rushing on. "And speaking of relationships, I met Sam up there. I just want you to know, I'm prepared to hate this woman any way you want."

The blonde slayer frowned a little. "I don't want to seem petty."

"Buffy, she shot you."

The blonde grimaced, feeling the painful reminder of that as she pulled the black top over her head. "You're right. Go nuts."

"Oh, Buffy." Willow's words came with the exhale of breath as she saw the wounds on Buffy's torso. The bullet hole, the gash on her side, the smeared blood everywhere. The black of the turtleneck had hidden that, but Willow could feel the dried crust of blood as she tossed the garment in the direction of the laundry. She wet a washrag in the sink and started to wipe some of it away, forcing herself not to stare at the ghastly pale of the other girl's skin against the black lace bra. Buffy sucked on her bottom lip as Willow approached the wounds themselves.

"Why do you think it does that?"

"Huh?" The redhead looked up, reaching for a bandage. "Does what?"

The blonde nodded down at her arm, where it had been burned before, and only the faintest scarring remained. "Heals."

Willow just saw the wound she had made. "Oh, Buffy, I'm so sorry! There was Dawn and—"

"No, that's not...I just meant, why does it bother healing like I'm still alive?"

"Um...because you're undead, not dead? And that's no reason not to be pretty?" Willow tried a smile.

"Do you think it heals inside, too?" Buffy stared down at the . "Or am I like those things with the ants?"

Willow stared. "Things with the ants?" Venturing. "Um...ant farms?"

"Right, like with the trails inside all around."

The image snapped into the redhead's head. "Buffy, that's gross."

The blonde's shoulders slumped a little, then tensed again as Willow rubbed ointment around the bullet's entry.

"I just wanted to be normal. Riley knew me when I was normal. I mean, he knew me when I was a slayer, too, but he wanted to date be before that, right? And now he's all married and I'll never get married."

"What, you can't love anymore? Piffle!"

Buffy looked up, half-smiling. "Will, did you just say 'piffle' at me?"

"Did she say what?"

Both heads turned to find Tara watching them from the stairs. Willow couldn't keep the smile off her face.

"Tara!" But then her face darkened as something dawned on her. "Hey, I'm not doing anything. Look, I'm just helping. With gauze." She held up a roll. "See, there's gauze."

"Gauze is good." The blonde witch nodded. "But I just wanted to see how Buffy was after the hospital the other day...."

"Better, I guess." The blonde slayer rubbed her hand across her eyes, the black shadows there. "I was just so...I don't know, so crazy."

"See, that's what I told you!" The redhead's chin was set as she turned to Tara, but her eyes were also pleading.

Buffy looked between the two of them. "Will was right, Tara. I was out of control. I could have hurt you. Or someone else. She did what I would have done." A pause. "Okay, not exactly what I would have done, because I don't know how she knocked me out. But you get the point."

"But, Buffy, she—"

"Tara, please, don't blame her. Blame me. I'm the one you should be scared of."

"Oh, Buffy." Tara reached out and smoothed the unruly waves of the other girl's hair. Willow offered her one end of the gauze and she took it. Together they started to wrap it around the blonde slayer's middle.

"You know that could kill you."

Faith stayed where she was, leaning against the porch railing, a nearly spent cigarette in between her fingers. "Not really worried about a long life."

Xander leaned next to her, looking out in to the early morning. Neighbors going out to get their newspapers. "Thanks for finding her."

"Three people in uniforms and a host of demons. They woulda been hard to miss."

"Yeah, now see, I'm completely jealous...I'm supposed to be the one with the military know-how around here. And here they come all special-ops-y. How can a man compete with that?"

"Looks like they won B over anyway."

He glanced over at her. "Um, Faith? Didya miss the whole Sam shooting her thing?"

"Didn't miss the new style B was sportin'." Another drag. "Didn't miss that I couldn't find her last night."

This time he was full-on staring at the dark slayer. "Faith, you don't seriously think—"

"I don't think anything."

He sighed, knowing how remarkably uncommunicative she could be when she so chose. "Well, how did you convince her back here? I mean, she is down in the basement right now."

"She was all worried about hurtin' me. I said we were 'bout even on that score."

Xander furrowed his brows. "That sounds like a good strategy...if you're waging a cold war. But I'm not sure mutually assured destruction is the way you wanna go here for a relationship, Faith."

"We're not in a relationship."

"Don't hit me but...the hell you're not."

Faith looked over at him. The depths of those brown eyes almost took his breath away. And he wasn't even looking at the rest of her. She didn't say anything, and then turned back out to the street, dark locks falling around her face like a veil.

Xander plowed on. "Look, these things are scary. You think I'm not scared about marrying Anya?"

Faith suppressed a snort. "Hell, I'd be scared if I was marrying her."

"You have a point. But my point is that I know something about being with a difficult woman. And, no offense, but between you and Buffy, you guys amount to like ten difficult women." He sighed. "Look, everybody knows you guys can fight with each other. Everybody knows you can fight for each other. And I'm sure you have incredible, steamy, amazing—"

"Xander."

"Right. Anyway, the only thing nobody knows is whether you guys can actually talk to each other."

The dark slayer kept staring out into the street where cars now started to leave for work, reminding Xander he needed to do the same. So he did, leaving her to smoke in silence.

By the time Faith went down into the basement, much of the house was quiet, its exhausted residents finally grabbing some sleep. She found the blonde slayer alone, in the black cargo pants Riley had given her, a bra, and bandages, slowly moving through that Tai Chi routine Faith had shown her the other day. A few drained packets of blood lay on the floor next to the bed.

The first thing Faith did was open her mouth.

"I looked for you last night, you know."

Buffy stopped, looking over at her, not saying anything. The shadows under her eyes were deep and dark.

So Faith went on, glancing down at the other girl's pants, then back up to challenge those eyes. "Should I have looked for Riley instead?"

The blonde closed her eyes and ran a hand back through her hair. When she spoke, her voice was quiet. "Faith, if you want to know whether I had sex with him last night, just ask."

The dark slayer shrugged noncommittally. Buffy rolled her eyes.

"No, I didn't, to answer you. And to answer the next question you won't ask me, I don't want to."

"Then where—?"

"I was in a mausoleum. I slept in a corner, on the floor. Dawn was still picking leaves out of my hair earlier." She paused, walking closer to Faith until she was standing only a few inches from the other girl. She could feel her heat. She met those dark brown eyes. "I need to know...did you let me hurt you or make me hurt you?"

The hoarse voice told her "I don't know." Faith was trying to be honest. Buffy cocked her head for a moment, then reached out and pushed a strand of hair behind the other girl's ear. Faith almost closed her eyes, almost leaned into that touch.

Still quietly. "You're not crazy, Faith."

"B, you don't—"

"I do. I wouldn't be here if you were. You and I have been down that road." She leaned in and kissed Faith softly on the lips, then pulled away and looked in those wide brown eyes again. "You can't tell me that's where we are now."

Faith's voice almost broke. "What do you want from me?" There was no edge in it.

Buffy stepped closer, right up against her, laying her ear against the other girl's chest to hear the heartbeat there. "Hold me. Please."

Faith stiffened, her body having to shift from its accustomed response, unsure what to do with the blonde pressed into her. So she did what she was asked.