A/N: Another 'cause I'd love to hear what you think!
"Damn, B!"
The dark slayer reeled back, laughing, from the blow Buffy finally landed soundly on her jaw. Faith hadn't quite gotten her staff up in time to block. She'd gotten sloppy. Not surprising since, for the last hour, Buffy's own feints and parries had been haphazard, easy to defend against.
"I was beginning to think you didn't care." Faith rubbed at her chin, trying at a grin and a wink to pull the other girl off whatever planet she was on.
Well, she succeeded in getting her attention, anyway.
The blonde slayer had taken a step forward, her mouth open, reaching out to touch the blossoming bruise she'd inflicted. But, at Faith's words, her face instantly flushed. "You know I do." Faith almost lost the murmur of it as Buffy turned away, fiddling with one end of the bandage on her shoulder that had popped up, no longer sticky.
Neither of them had forgotten what Buffy had put out there earlier in the night. The blonde tossed her staff at Dawn so that she didn't have to face another awkward silence.
Her sister caught it just before it clattered to the floor, already half-out of her seat at the chance to physically abandon the book she'd already stopped looking at a while back.
"Oh! I get to try?"
Giles looked as though he might say no for a moment, then, shrugged, deciding that it couldn't hurt for Dawn to know how to protect herself, given that she lived in Sunnydale and her sister was the slayer. The opportunities for encountering danger were legion.
Faith stood behind them for a moment, silently cursing the mouth that ran ahead of her brain, knowing she should do or say something. God knows what. Which was precisely why she didn't do this sort of thing.
But that didn't change the blonde standing in front of her, the blonde who was keeping her eyes carefully on Dawn.
So Faith came up behind Buffy, feeling the familiar tingle of her proximity. She reached around, placing her staff in the smaller girl's hand. The small apology of a finger brushing against another finger in the exchange.
"You'll be needing this."
Buffy nodded in reply, closing her eyes for a moment before opening them again to find her sister standing at the ready, and Faith already back with her punching bag and her thoughts. The rest of the room was trying to pretend it was very interested in its research.
"Alright, Dawn, show me what you've got."
And for a while, there was only the clack of their weapons against each other, the huff of the younger Summers' breath, the footwork of Buffy's defensive dance. Stealing glances at them, their audience was thinking of the fact Dawn had been made from Buffy or that Spike had been teaching Dawn or some other fact that led them think that it was more of a fight than they had expected. Not the sparks of a slayer-on-slayer pairing, but enough to leave Buffy gritting her teeth to stay focused.
From the sidelines Giles coached Dawn. "Watch for the opening she's left you." and fighting and "There, one shot to the temple." and fighting and "More to the center. No, if you want to kill her, you're too far left." The last bit of advice a reminder that the heart isn't where most people think it is.
Buffy felt herself falling into the rhythm of the fight, these motions so familiar to the slayer and the vampire inside her that they itched for the freedom to carry them out. From behind her, the grim thwack of Faith's punches was the backdrop of a battle going on.
She started to throw up a block.
Her hand didn't move. It was bound to a bed.
"What the—!?!" Buffy thrashed against those leather straps and felt the soreness in her wrists that told her she'd been doing so for a while. She looked down at them as if they would tell her why and how.
"You don't have to fight here."
The voice startled her, then she turned to find it. A man in a doctor's coat looked over at her, waiting patiently for her eyes to find his before he began again.
"Buffy, can you hear me? Do you know where you are?"
Shouldn't this be the gimme question? "Sunnydale?"
His frown matched her own. "No, none of that's real. None of it." He saw her shake her head, and rushed on. "You're in a mental institution, Buffy. You've been with us for six years now."
She didn't even know how to fight against that and so stared at him instead, mouth falling open. There was a scream building inside her. If she screamed loud enough, would Faith, Dawn, someone hear?
Her block was holding, though Dawn tried her best, leaning close to throw her weight behind it. Buffy blinked at her sister's face so close to her own. She had a sense that her mouth was open and snapped it shut.
Then it was the doctor's instrument, then face, so close to hers. She was in the corner now. The bed and its restraints above her.
"Dawn?" Hoping.
He shook his head. She banged her own against the wall at her side. And again.
The doctor slipped a hand between her and the wall, turning to look behind him, then back to Buffy, smiling as if he had something for her.
"But I have some people here that I think you'd like to see."
Buffy dragged her eyes from him, squinted to focus, and then opened her eyes wide. Mom. Dad.
"We're here, honey. Everything's going to be okay."
One moment, Faith's hands were holding on to the punching bag, stopping it from the swing her blows had sent it on. She wanted at once to keep hitting it and to stop hitting. Not knowing which to do, she was holding on to the bag, resting her bruised jaw against its cool leather, her breath coming heavy in little blooms of humidity.
And the next moment she was looking down at a girl on the ground with a bruise on her face.
Her world started to crumble, and she sank to her knees, mouthing the words "no, no, no."
But this time, those dead eyes fluttered open to meet her own frantic ones. Sound, returning, came in a rush of Buffy's name and Dawn's shriek and shouts of "what happened?" Buffy's eyes unclouded and, for a split second, her face fell at the faces that were not there.
Then, seeing Faith's lips still mouthing their rejection of the situation, Buffy forced herself to blink quickly into focus. Amidst the uproar, she stayed fixated on Faith, holding that brown gaze even though it wanted to shy away or hide behind the darkness of eyelids.
"I'm okay, Faith. It'll be okay." The older slayer reached out to her lover and covered white knuckles with her hand.
But they couldn't ignore the rest for long.
"Buffy, are you alright?" Giles was pulling her away, helping her to her feet. Dawn had her other hand. Buffy looked down her sister's hand on hers.
"I didn't mean to...we were just...you were supposed to block!" Her sister had thrown down her staff. Tara wrapped an arm around her, trying to calm her down.
"I'm sorry, I must have been thinking about something else...let my mind slip. It's okay. You did what you were supposed to do, Dawn."
"But what if I'd—"
Everyone was crowding around, closing in. Buffy couldn't stop herself from flinching back. Xander tried to make space for her. Willow's worried gaze flickered from Buffy to Tara and back again. Giles stared at his charge for a moment, then down at Faith, still kneeling on the ground, now with her head in her hands.
"Buffy—" He started, then stopped and started again. "Faith, is there something you haven't told us about last night?"
And so they spent the next hour talking about that.
By the end of it, Faith was down to monosyllables. Buffy filled in most everything else: the fight, the shifting time, the dead girl, the police, Katrina. She hunched over, rubbing the tense muscles in her shoulders with her own hands. How long had it been since she'd slept? Giles noticed and stood up to clear the room for them.
"Well, it's clearly been a long night...and day for everyone. I suspect rest is what's needed now, for both of you."
Both slayers nodded wearily.
Looking at Faith, her hair a curtain over her face, he felt as though he ought to say more. "Thank you for sharing that with us, Faith. I can assure you, we will be expanding our research efforts to attempt to locate Warren and his compatriots as well." Then turning finally to Buffy. "And we'll still keep looking, of course, for the demon that wounded you. Do let me know if the shoulder gets worse."
Willow stayed behind to re-bandage Buffy's wound. The old one was now peeling off in all directions. The point of entry itself was angry. The blonde rubbed her hands over her eyes as the redhead worked, trying to smear away the blur in her vision.
"Don't even fuckin' think about it, Red."
At the dark slayer's words, Buffy raised her head in confusion. She was on a bed, but it wasn't the hospital. Faith and Willow were glaring at each other.
"I wasn't doing anything!"
"You had that look."
"What look? I didn't have a look...there was no look here."
"That look like you're about to damn near crawl right inside B's head."
"I did not have that look!"
"Callin' 'em like I see 'em." A pause to look square in the witch's eye. "And if you even fuckin' try it, I will smack you down."
"Oh, like you did to Katrina?"
The blonde's voice broke in sharply. "That's enough, Will. We've been through this. Faith didn't do anything."
The redhead kept her arms crossed across her chest and didn't take her eyes off of Faith. "Fine. Tried to, then. And I'd just like to see you try."
"Will...." Buffy's hoarse voice was a warning. But nobody was paying any attention.
"There's no Willow here, Buffy."
The blonde's eyes went wide at her mom's voice. "Mom?" She could hardly get the word out. "How are—? How can you—?" There were just too many questions to ask.
"Your dad and I have been right here by your side, and, honey, the doctor thinks you might finally be strong enough to pull out of this." With an eloquent gesture, the wave of her hand took in the room, the doctor, the restraints. "You've just got to stay here with us."
Back in the basement, Willow and Faith were still exchanging barbs.
"Red, you've fucked up just about everything you've tried to do with magic. You hurt people. You hurt Buffy."
Incredulous. "Like you don't?" Those hands were on her hips now. "At least I'm always trying to do the right thing."
"Will...Faith...." Buffy placed a hand against her forehead to keep it from spinning.
The dark slayer plowed forward, sneering. "Yeah, well there ain't a prize for tryin' and you make out like judge, jury, and executioner—"
"Which is the exactly what you and Buffy do every time you go out to slay!"
"There's a fuckin' line, Red. And it's right or wrong—" Faith wanted so badly to believe it.
"Please...help...." Buffy wasn't sure who she was talking to anymore.
"I know, baby. It's okay. We're here to help. The doctor says we can all work on this together." Joyce smoothed the hair back from Buffy's face, wiped away the blonde's tears with her thumb.
"Faith?" A pause. "Will?"
"No, Buffy, they're not here. They're not real."
From behind her mom, Buffy saw her dad leaning in. Her dad, with his hand on her mom's shoulder. "Honey, you know this. I know they used to be a comfort for you, but they aren't now, are they? Are these really your friends?"
"But Faith...."
"You've said it yourself that she's a killer."
The tears had never stopped. "No, that's not—she's not—!"
Willow was still talking. "Oh, so you're saying it was wrong for me to take care of that demon at Xander's wedding? The demon that wanted to ruin everything and then go and attack Anya because of some stupid grudge he was holding? So that was wrong?"
"Hell yeah! It's wrong when—"
Willow was too quick for her. "When it's not you or Buffy doing it?"
"Please!" It was almost a hoarse scream now. And both Faith and Willow were instantly at the blonde's side. Buffy kept her eyes squeezed shut, not sure who she would see, or who she should want to see when she opened them. "Please." A little softer now. "Can we just...not now?"
Faith glared over at Willow as if to say "you heard her." It was plain the dark slayer wasn't leaving. The redhead waited for some signal from her old friend, but Buffy said nothing, so she picked up the extra bandages.
With a last hand on Buffy's shoulder, a squeeze, she turned back towards the stairs. "Promise you'll let me know if you need anything?" Buffy nodded so, with one last glance at Faith, Willow left.
In the silence, Buffy felt hands easing her back onto the bed, unlacing her tennis shoes. The gentle pressure of Faith settling next to her. She dared to open her eyes and found the dark slayer's brown ones looking right back at her, the concern in them easy to read.
"Sorry, B. Red just—" She could feel the outrage creeping back into her voice and stopped to start again. "We got carried away." Faith took in Buffy's red-rimmed eyes, darting from Faith's face, to the bed, around the basement. "Are you okay, B? You seem a little...I dunno, spacey or somethin'." She brushed a fingertip across the bruise Dawn's blow had left on Buffy's temple. She wondered if she should say something about earlier. About what Buffy had told her. Maybe Buffy was feeling weird about it. Maybe she wanted to take it back.
"Faith, I just...." The blonde's voice snapped Faith out of her spiraling thoughts. "I just need you. Please don't leave me."
The brunette's brows knit at that. "Um, sure, B. Wasn't plannin' on it. But yeah okay, you just tell me—"
And her words were cut off by the blonde's insistent mouth, her desperate kiss that pulled Faith on top of her. That sweet, real weight that kept Buffy pinned to the bed, underneath. Buffy's own hands fumbled and grasped at to keep her there. And the energies that both slayers had held, pent up since the fight the night before, through the unsatisfying training and arguments and drama since then...they let them loose to come together. Faith's mouth could not drink in enough of Buffy, could not kiss enough. She could not smell enough of that skin, that smooth, cool skin that she knew like her own. Bruised and injured now. She was tender with those spots.
Buffy's own skin ached with her need for Faith, to touch more of her. Her hands were everywhere. Those beautiful breasts, hanging, pendulous, above her. She brought her mouth to the nipple of one and pulled on it, rolling it around on her tongue. Her groan hummed against Faith's skin, and Faith's own match it until both slayer's were fairly vibrating with their need for each other.
Faith pushed up Buffy's tank top, finding the breasts underneath and taking them into her own mouth, then ripping off the top altogether to see all of her. Buffy arched up into that gaze, whimpering at the hands pushing down her sweats, reaching in. She felt her being narrow down to that touch, to the finger on her clit, the fingers working their way inside her. Her awareness of everything else fading.
"Stay with us, honey. We're here for you."
Buffy opened her eyes to find her mom next to her, holding her close. The mother she thought she'd lost.
Pleading. "But Faith...."
"Buffy, from what you've told us, it just doesn't make any sense. Think about it. Why would you and Faith be together...after all the past you say you have, after you say that she hurt you so much before, hurt me.... Just think about it, honey. This, here, makes more sense. There's no hurt here. We love you, honey, we love you so much!"
Faith was focused on the touch of Buffy's fingers on her body, finding the spots that would make her cry out. Focused on the feeling of Buffy around her fingers, that quivering clench that held on, spasming as it reached for its release.
And then the words that finally drifted into Faith's consciousness, stopping her hands dead where they were as the blonde's head shook back and forth, her eyes squeezed shut.
"No, no, no, no...."
