"Price, Welsey Wyndom." Faith said into the telephone. She collapsed onto Hope's bed. Faith chuckled; his name was funky.

The operator transferred her to Welsey's apartment.



The phone rang.

Buffy lay on Wesley's leather couch, her eyes glued to the television.

Wesley ran from his office to the living room, answering the phone.

"Hello," He said. "This is Wesley."



"Hey Wes," Faith smiled. It was nice to hear his voice again. "Is uh, Buffy around, I really

need to, you know, chat."

"Ah, yes, girl talk."

"Exactly." She replied.

"Hold on," He put the phone down.

Faith eyed the photos on Hope's bedside table and picked up a framed one of a young brunette.

As she looked more closely, she saw herself.

Buffy grunted as Wesley pulled her off the couch from her drama.

"Hello?" Buffy asked.

"Hey, B!" Faith said. Buffy shot awake and alert.

"Faith, are you okay? where are you-"

"Buffy," Faith interrupted. "I'm fine. I just...need a little help. Actually, a lot."

"Yeah," Buffy nodded. With her shakey hands, she grabbed a pen and tore off a peice of

paper from one of Wesley's sketchbooks.

"You have to come to me, though. I can't leave here."

"Okay, Faith. Just tell me where you are."

"Fine, here's the address, I'll explain when you arrive."