The Scoobies crowded around the screen, staring at the black and white image of a teenager in a camouflage jacket. He peered in the window of the dress shop. "Is that a remote?" Xander asked. "Faith, did you see any little toy cars while you were stealing clothes?"

Glaring at the back of his head, Faith gritted out, "You know, X-Man…"

"Faith." Joyce put a restraining hand on her shoulder.

Pulling away, Faith stalked to the couch and sat down, glowering at the room. "You think he could have been there with that hound thing?"

Everyone slowly returned to their seats. "I suppose that's possible," Giles allowed. "But I can't see what reason he would have. A dress shop? It lacks something in the evil category."

"I don't know about the evil, but the thing certainly had good taste." Cordelia raised her eyebrows at the looks coming her way. "What? I mean, look. He went right by that girl in the ugly floral print and headed straight for the formal wear."

"Oh, that's right," Xander mocked. "He left behind his copy of Monsterswear Daily."

Brown eyes snapping, Cordelia stood up, arms crossed. "Laugh all you want, but look at the tape. That dress is strictly off the rack. The kid in front of the mirror? He's wearing a tailored wool tuxedo with very smooth lines…'til he was shredded."

"Perhaps we could return to the young man on the video?" Giles sounded exasperated at the constant bickering. "Do any of you recognize him?"

Five heads indicated a negative. "I have Buffy's yearbook. Would that help?" Joyce asked quietly.

"Yearbook? What does that…?" Giles started to ask.

Willow finished the sentence that had started to trail off. "Pictures!" She grinned at the group. "Yearbooks have pictures of all the students. Well, except Buffy 'cause she missed that day."

"Gee, thanks for the reminder, Wills," Buffy said drolly. Then she smiled, struggling to throw off her earlier mood. "Mom, nice save." Glancing at Faith, still seated next to her, she asked, "Wanna help me dig it out of the closet?" Not waiting for an answer, she grabbed the other Slayer's hand, dragging her bodily off the couch and pulling her up the stairs.

"Damn, B, I think you broke my fingers," Faith griped, wiggling her fingers. "What's with the togetherness?"

Buffy faced Faith, biting her lip. "I asked you earlier to stay and help with the Mayor." Waving a hand to halt the bitter protest, she continued, "I get that; I don't like it, but I understand, I think." She swallowed against the twisting in her stomach. "This thing with Angel, it's…I'm not…" Tears flooded her eyes.

"B?" Faith took a quick step forward, but stopped just out of reach, wanting to help, but not sure of her reception. "You're gonna be OK, you know. It'll just take some time. I mean, you loved him and all. That don't go away overnight." Hell, maybe I should take my own advice.

Slapping a hand over her mouth in an attempt to hold in the sobs, Buffy turned and walked to the window.

Faith watched, unsure what to do. Tears flooded her own eyes, and a sick feeling twisted her stomach. It was hard to breathe. "Come on, B." She cleared her throat as her voice rasped out. "Where's this book or whatever we're supposed to get?" Her hands balled into fists to keep from touching the obviously hurting Buffy.

"It's on the bookcase." Buffy's voice was flat again, and she gazed dispiritedly through the glass.

The book was easy to find, and Faith pulled it out, idly flicking through the pages. Her attention, however, was still on Buffy. "You planning on telling the gang about Fang?"

A shrug answered her question.

"Look, maybe I should go get Red. You can do that best friend thing." Tossing the book on the bed, Faith shoved her hands in her pockets, bouncing on her feet. The need to do something, to help in some way, pulled at her, but she had no idea what to do.

"Yeah. Whatever." The blonde head leaned tiredly against the glass.

Giving in, Faith slowly moved across the room. Half expecting Buffy to pummel her, she hesitantly laid her hands on the slumped shoulders. "Hey, damn it, B. You gotta get your head back in the game." Still tensed against attach, Faith dug her thumbs into the tight muscles, biting her lip. "What can I do to help, B? I've never seen you like this. Kinda scaring me, here."

Buffy turned around, tears streaking her face. Placing her hands over the ones on her shoulders, she looked into worried brown eyes. "Hold me?" Buffy's whisper echoed in the suddenly still room.

"Fuck." Faith shuddered, taking an involuntary step closer. This had to be a dream. As soon as she did as asked, Buffy would laugh or shove her away. Need warred with terror. Voice trembling noticeably, she choked out, "I…you sure you don't want me to get Red?"

Buffy's pony tail whipped from side to side as she shook her head.

Tentatively, Faith slid her hands down Buffy's back, pulling the shorter girl into a loose hug. Her eyes shot wide open when Buffy wrapped her arms around her back, squeezing tightly. "It really will be OK, B." Hell, I'm way more than OK right now. Faith inhaled slowly, dragging in the scent of Buffy's perfume. "The Scoobies have your back, and you'll find a guy with a pulse in no time." The thought of Buffy with a new boyfriend dimmed the thrill of having the blonde in her arms. She pushed it away and rested her head on Buffy's hair, stroking her back.

A watery chuckle drifted up. "Nice speech, Faith."

Embarrassed but determined not to show it, Faith fired back, "If you wanted sweetness and crap, you shoulda let me get Red." Tightening her hold on Buffy, she closed her eyes, lassitude flowing through her. They stayed that way for a few minutes before Faith reluctantly pulled away, shivering at the loss of contact. "Better, B?"

"Getting there, F." Buffy giggled slightly when Faith rolled her eyes at the nickname. "What? You call me B."

Dimples flashed. "Yeah, but I don't sound like a Valley Girl. You don't have that Southie attitude." Faith stepped back, reluctantly breaking their lingering contact. "Stick to cheers and pep talks, B. Leave the nicknames to me."

Buffy wiped her eyes and sniffed. "Damn. I hate crying."

"You look cute." Faith froze. What the hell? Scrambling, she smirked, "Red nose, blotchy skin. Kinda like Polka Dot Smurf."

"Oooh. Low blow." Buffy started to smile a little.

"Well, yeah. Smurfs are really short, just like you." Faith leaped out of the way of the smacking hand. "You all done with the big emotional scene now? Cause the gang's probably freaking out down there, thinking I'm up here showing you all my wicked skills."

Buffy grabbed the yearbook from the bed, giggling. "You'd run a mile if I ever took you up on that offer." She linked their hands for a minute. "Let's go get the info on this Hellhound owner." Buffy pulled slowly away,

They rejoined the gang sprawled in the living room. No one came out and asked what had taken so long, but Faith carefully avoided Willow's laser-like green eyes. Buffy dropped the book onto the coffee table and opened it to the student photos.

"There," Oz said, pointing to a thin, badly dressed teen. "Tucker Wells. He was in my chem lab."

Joyce peered over Buffy's shoulder. "Doesn't look like a murderer."

"Well, if you watch the news," Willow chirped, "they never do. I mean, all the profiles make them sound like quiet people who keep to themselves. When they interview neighbors and stuff, they always say they seem like nice people."

Oz smiled a little, holding Willow's hand. "He was, mostly. Something must have happened to him."

"What do we do now?" Faith ducked her head. "Hey, just a question." The stares made her uncomfortable so she wandered over to the mantle and started looking at the photos.

"Well, I can get into the school's computer in a heartbeat." Willow grinned and set up her laptop. Typing rapidly, she grew quiet.

Joyce stood up, brushing at her slacks. "I'm going to get a drink, anybody want anything?" Hands filled the air. "I'll take that as a yes. Soda OK?" Hands dropped while heads nodded. "Rupert, would you prefer tea?"

"Yes, thank you." Giles smiled slightly until he caught the glare Buffy threw his way. Clearing his throat, he returned to the book in his lap.

"Faith, can you give me a hand?" Joyce's voice was more order than question. Faith sighed and slunk after Buffy's mom. While she filled glasses and heated the kettle, Joyce watched Faith carefully. "I was surprised to find you here. Didn't you say something about leaving?"

Flinching slightly, Faith nervously rubbed her hands up and down the legs of her pants. "Yeah. Unfortunately, B and Fang were having a big farewell scene. Looked for a second like he was going to go all vampy again."

Joyce spun, eyes concerned. "What?" Her voice rang in the otherwise quiet room.

"He got himself under control, Mrs. S," Faith rushed to reassure. She hopped up to sit on the counter – and immediately climbed down at the arched eyebrow she received.

Stacking glasses on a couple of trays, Joyce handed one to Faith and picked up the other. "Are you staying then?" Joyce kept her attention balancing her cargo, but quietly offered. "We've got an extra room here if you need a place to sleep."

Ice cubes rattled, and soda sloshed from glasses. Eyes wide and shocked, Faith followed the older woman out to the living room. She felt lightheaded, and everything looked out of focus. Faith's voice was a mere whisper. "Mrs. S?" Joyce paused, head turned. "You really mean that?" Faith regarded Joyce fearfully. Buffy's mom must not know the whole story. If she did, surely…Her stomach churned as she pointed out the Mrs. Summers why sharing her home was a bad idea. "I don't…If the Mayor found out, he might send his boys after you."

"Honey, my daughter is a Slayer. I'm a target every time I go to work, or the store, or out to pick up the morning paper." She smiled warmly. "The offer's open. Just let me know when you make up your mind." Joyce continued into the living room, giving Faith space and a chance to maybe come to terms with the hand stretched out to her.

During their absence, Willow had managed to break into the school's computer. Voice high and excited, she said, "Listen to the message Tucker sent to this kid David Metz at school last week. 'The Sunnydale High lemmings have no idea what awaits them. Their big night will be their last night.'"

"Are we assuming the big night in question is the Prom and not Graduation?" Buffy asked. "I mean, why not two evil threats on the same day? It would certainly be different."

Listening to the planning session jerked Faith out of her fugue state. Striding into the room, she commented, "Lighten up, B." Faith plunked her tray down on the table and took a glass. "Let the Scoobs do their thing. I'm sure Red's already got it all figured out." She smirked and winked at the hacker.

Willow turned bright red. "Well, um, yeah, I think so," she stuttered.

"See? Don't know why you were freaking." Faith dropped cross-legged on the floor near Buffy's feet. "So, fill us in."

"If you think about it, it has to be the Prom." Willow waved her hands as she talked. "I mean, Hellhound plus the love of formal wear must equal the Prom. He's going to set the 'hound on us tonight at the dance."

"Wow. So we're all catching up now," Cordelia sniped.

"And once again," Oz mumbled laconically, "the Hellmouth puts the 'special' in 'special occasion.'"

Willow leaned against her boyfriend, twining her fingers with his. "I wonder if I can take my dress back?"

"Man, what the hell's wrong with you guys?" Faith stood and started pacing. "You just going to sit around until it gets dark and then go after this thing? You know who's training it. Why not go there, kill it now, and party all through the night, safe from the big bad dog?"

Giles smiled at her, eyes twinkling behind his glasses. "It's the Prom, Faith. For some reason, just the word turns them all into fashion kings and queens. I'm becoming an expert on taffeta and accessories after listening to the very important and detailed discussions going on while we were supposedly researching."

"B, you ready to rock and roll?" Faith ran her hands through her hair, energized.

Smiling at Faith's sudden enthusiasm, Buffy nodded. "Before I head off to track this thing down, we might want to divide and conquer. I think we need a plan." She smirked at Faith's groan. "That's what we do here, Faith. We gather facts, assess the situation, and come up with a air-tight plan." Her words garnered disbelieving looks and snorts of laughter. Ignoring them, Buffy went on, "Giles, can you and Cordy go to Tucker's house? He's probably not there, but it's worth a shot."

Faith watched in awe as Buffy rebounded from her breakup. This wasn't the broken teenager crying over her boyfriend. This was the Slayer, focused and poised for the hunt. A familiar feeling of inferiority snaked its way through Faith, and she bit her lip, eyes dropping to her shoes.

"Oz, take Will and talk to David Metz about the email. See if he knows anything or is involved. Xan?" When he looked up, Buffy continued. "Try the magic shop. See if anyone's been stocking up on supplies to raise a Hellhound."

"Alright. Everybody understand the assignments?" Buffy jumped up, clapping her hands. Receiving nods from her troops, she grinned fiercely. "Then let's do it. Today's mission: make sure that we have a chance for a nice, normal, non-demony dance."

"B?" Faith couldn't help the question. "What are you gonna be doing?"

"Not me, Faith. Us. You and me. We're going to visit the butcher shops. This thing eats brains. Gotta get those somewhere." Buffy cocked her head. "Ready to go?"