Faith took a cab to the warehouse where they'd been meeting every morning. They'd chosen this place because it was deserted and because it was adjacent to a sewer entrance, which Angel could use to come and go as he pleased. When she got to the room way at the back, she noticed that Angel was the first to arrive. She threw her duffel into a corner and plopped on the ground next to him.

"Wanna talk about it?" he asked. She shook her head.

"Want me to break his legs and beat him with them?" That earned him a small smile.

"I'm a fucking moron," she said bitterly. "I don't even know what happened."

She told him about the fight at the motel, and he wrapped an arm around her shoulders as she struggled not to choke on her own words. "I never thought I'd be one of those poor saps, sitting here with a broken heart."

Her own words stunned her. When had she let Lindsey get close enough to her heart to break it?

"You're tough, Faith. You've been though worse than this."

She nodded. She knew she'd survive a few harsh words from Lindsey McDonald, but the short-term lead ball in her chest still hurt like hell.

"Can I ask you a question?" Angel asked. "What possessed you to fall for him?"

"I suppose you've never slept with someone just because the thought of spending another night alone made you want to slit your own wrists and be done with it." She shook her head ruefully. "No, you wouldn't understand."

Angel offered her a thin-lipped smile that didn't quite reach his eyes. "I think I can imagine it," he said. "I assumed it was just good sex."

"No, it was GREAT sex," she corrected. He winced and turned away.

"I really did NOT need to hear that."

"You're the one who brought it up."

"So, that's why you're all mopey now? You miss a week of great sex?"

She stared intently at the lines in her hands. Yes, she missed the sex. She missed waking up to find his hand resting absently on her hip. She missed the mornings after -- full of tandem showers and breakfast at the diner across the street, where the waitress had called them a "cute couple." Once, during a break from the search, he'd even taken her bowling. She'd been surprised and humbled by how badly she'd gotten her ass kicked. Being the Slayer didn't mean she was good at games.

They'd rarely said much to each other. There had been an unspoken understanding between them that had resisted idle chitchat. Now that it was gone, Faith felt a disturbing void she hadn't know was there. It couldn't last -- she'd known that on a gut level. Nothing lasted forever, especially for a Slayer. Especially for her. But for one blessed week she'd managed to pretend that she was a normal woman living a normal life with someone she could love completely. There was no point in trying to explain the ache to Angel, she told herself. He was probably delighted by the turn of events. Besides, she wasn't even sure if she was mourning something she'd lost or something she'd never have.

She quickly wiped her eyes and pulled herself together when she heard the others begin to arrive. Within minutes, they were all settled in the empty room.

"Are we waiting for Lindsey?" Wes asked.

Faith gave them a firm 'no' and pretended not to see them toss questioning glances around the room. Apparently, Angel wasn't the only one with an idea of what had been going on between them.

At least Fred had some good news to report. As her red-rimmed eyes could attest, she'd stayed up all night calculating and comparing dates in the prophesy, and she'd come to the conclusion that Connor's ass-kicking buddy was safe, seeing as how he or she hadn't been born yet.

"So why are Wolfram & Hart freaking about it now?" Lorne asked. "Why not wait until the little tyke starts taking his first steps?"

Faith answered, "Because if they act now, their lives will be a lot easier later."

Angel's face turned grim. "They'll go after Connor as soon as they have an opening. We're not going to let that happen."