Watching Your Back (Part 3)

Previously ...

Faith has returned to Sunnydale, apparently intent on reconciliation with Buffy and her friends. This came as something of a shock to the Sunnydale crew, who believed Faith to have died in prison. On top of this, they had recently come to suspect that Spike has some secret scheme in motion.

Torn between suspicion of the other Slayer and her reluctance to kill a young woman who resolutely refused to fight back, Buffy has taken the risky step of trusting in Faith's apparent reform, going so far as to share her room at college with the other slayer.

Faith's return has not been met with joy in all quarters, however. Riley Finn suspects her of having more sinister motives than she claims, whilst no-one is quite ready to tell Joyce about Buffy's new room-mate ...

Chapter Seven

The offices of Wolfram & Hart were a gleaming tower of glass, cement and steel. The building personified wealth, power and pride. Spike drove straight past it.

He knew that many vampires thought highly of the law firm, but he preferred to do his own recruiting, on the streets. Desks and offices were not his preferred territory, and he would stick to what he knew. Besides, there was something about humans who worked for vampires that made his fangs ache. It's like having your burger tell you it wants to be mates.

About a mile further down the road he pulled into a side-street and parked. The buildings here were older and dirtier than the monolith of Wolfram & Hart. To his vampire senses, they smelled of time. He could sense the rot in the walls, the decay of the bricks and mortar and iron that comprised each structure. It was a good smell, familiar. It reminded him of blood.

To the average person, the building he entered looked little different from the others of the neighbourhood. Even inside, where he climbed a rusty iron stairwell to the third floor, it had little to distinguish it.

The bouncer blocked his path as he stepped onto the landing, the floor feeling slightly soft beneath his feet. Half-demon. Droggan, by the smell of him.

"Members only." The words were a surly challenge, the bouncer sure in his greater size and weight.

Spike smiled,

"I have an invitation right here, mate." He reached casually inside his coat, then suddenly lashed out with his fist, striking the bouncer in the throat. The half-demon reeled back and collapsed against the wall, knocking away some of the age softened plaster.

"Oops." Spike allowed himself a satisfied smile and walked along the landing to the battered door at the end. The black paint was faded and peeling, contributing further to the run-down atmosphere that pervaded the building.

He pushed the door open and stepped into the smoky room beyond. He smirked, remembering Harmony's disappointment the one time he'd bothered to bring her here. There was no grand surprise at the end of all the suspense, just a gloomy dive which specialised in catering to the sort of 'person' Spike was interested in hiring.

"William!" a thick, tobacco-roughened voice called out to him.

Spike half turned, seeking out the barrel-shaped body that went with that voice.

Paolo Wurth surged across the room, his squat, broad body enveloped in the usual cheap, ill-fitting suit. Spike smiled despite himself. They just didn't make clothes in Paolo's size any more. Not that they ever had.

"Paolo." He thrust out his hand and felt it engulfed in the other vampire's two-fisted grip.

"William! How good to see you! Come, join me!" Paolo gestured expansively at the table from which he had come. The buttons of his suit strained alarmingly at the action, his moving girth putting them under significant stress.

Spike followed Paolo back to the table, his eyes taking in the room as he did so. There would be no threats tonight, it seemed. No familiar faces, no-one looking too curious. Paolo had two girls at his table. Both attractive, in a hard, used-looking way. Junkies. There were some things even a vampire couldn't kick the taste for, and Paolo invariably knew where to get them.

"You have any trouble with the bouncer?" Paolo asked, a broad smile on his ugly, pugnacious face.

"Nope." Spike swung into one of the chairs at the table, favouring both of the women with an insincere smile, "He needs a bit of a lie down, though."

Paolo shot him an exasperated look,

"You didn't break him, did you?"

"Crushed his larynx." Spike shrugged, "He'll recover. Might take a few minutes though."

The heavy-set man shook his head,

"Why don't you just use your membership card?" he threw himself into a cushioned but faded armchair, which creaked audibly under his weight, "Far less trouble."

"Left it in my other jacket." Spike lied glibly, lighting a cigarette. "Who are your girlfriends?"

"Who cares?" Paolo chuckled, waving a hand dismissively at the two. They rose and walked away, only one of them bothering to give Spike a hostile stare. Junkies. Spike snorted. Idiots.

"So it's been what, William? A year? That must be the last time you were here. With that tasty little blonde?"

"'bout that." Spike agreed, "Hear from Dru at all?"

Paolo had the decency to look uncomfortable. Which he probably is.

"You know she doesn't like me talking to you about her." he kept his voice pitched low. When Spike didn't answer, he sighed, "She's running with the Jeneth Demons. Took up with one of their leaders about eight months ago."

"At least she's running with a better class of ugly, these days." Spike kept his voice neutral.

"You should let it go." Paolo urged, "Shack up with your little blonde."

Spike smirked,

"Don't worry about me, Paolo old mate." he blew smoke slowly through his nostrils, "I'm with Harm now. I just asked for politeness. Dru bein' your sire an' all."

Paolo grinned weakly. Fear. Good. He hasn't forgotten.

"Remember when we used to beat on those Mod wankers in Blackpool?" Spike grinned, "Dru took that one guy straight off his scooter. Christ, must be thirty years ago, now."

Paolo nodded and took a large gulp from the drink in front of him.

"Good times." he acknowledged, "But I'm sure you aren't here to talk about them, William. What can I do for you?"

Spike stubbed out his cigarette and lit another, taking his time before answering.

"Two things, both urgent." he said finally, "First, I need the eyes of a Taladar."

"No problem." Paolo smiled, "I know the locations of a few Taladarm. You just need the one pair?"

"Yeah." Spike didn't like Taladarm demons any more than the other vampire, but getting more would be a needless expense. "The second thing is a little more difficult, but I need it tonight. I need a spy. A good one, capable of moving around by day, amongst humans, whilst staying undetected."

Paolo frowned,

"I might know a guy. Great for what you want, but not much use in a fight."

"Good." Spike answered, "If his target wakes up to him, he's dead anyway. Being a bit of a pansy might encourage him to be careful."

"Hansard is always careful." Paolo answered, finishing his drink, "But he doesn't come cheaply, William. Particularly if you want him to watch the slayer."

"Lucky guess." Spike smirked, knowing full well it was not. Got to watch that with Paolo. He's a lot sharper than he lets on.

Paolo shrugged,

"Call it what you will. There is still the matter of price -"

This was a familiar pattern, and Spike leaned back in his chair, relaxing. It would take an hour or two to haggle a price. The fat bastard is still a black marketeer at heart, even after fifty years as a vampire. But if anyone could deliver what Spike wanted, it was Paolo Wurth.

Cordelia stepped in through her front door, turning on the lights as she did so, then turned and spread her arms like a game show hostess.

"Ta da!" she smiled proudly, "Mi casa."

Harmony hovered on the front door step, glancing inside. Catching up with the brunette had been fun. They'd window shopped, chatted about guys and clothes, even stopped in at a coffee shop. It was almost like High School again. Almost like being human. But the fun was over. For Cordelia, anyway. Coffee just wasn't very satisfying these days.

She put on a concerned look and stood at the front doorway as casually as she could, silently cursing the illogical rules which seemed to bind a vampire's existence.

"Uh, Cor." She said, "Are you sure you're okay with me coming in. I mean, tonight's been fun, but we haven't exactly been friends for a while …"

"Oh, nonsense." Cordelia waved a hand, "Come right in –"

The brunette abruptly slapped a hand to her forehead,

"I am so challenged!" she exclaimed, "Asking to come in is like a major vampire give-away and I just blew it straight off. You're gonna go all fang-y and chase me round the house now, aren't you?"

That had actually been exactly what Harmony was planning, but somehow all the attraction of the idea seemed deflated by the fact that Cordelia was expecting it. It's more fun to take them by surprise, and she's on her guard now. Besides which, Spike would be meeting with his repulsive friends for hours. An hour or two, he says. Right. It was six, last time. Talking to Cordelia would help pass the time. And there would be plenty of time to kill her, later.

"Geez, Cor. Relax. It's not like we're in Freakydale anymore." She stepped through the doorway, and was momentarily surprised at what felt like a weak resistance to her entry. It was nothing. Get a grip. "They, this place is great. It must cost you a fortune." That at least was true enough. She had not expected Cordelia to be doing so well for herself. Maybe after this I'll be able to get back to that dress shop.

"Thanks." Cordelia smiled, "But it's actually pretty cheap. This guy I know –" she paused, "This guy I knew got it for me at a special rate."

"Oh?" Harmony dropped into the couch and kicked her shoes off, then leaned forward, her elbows resting on her knees, "A special guy? You two still see one another?"

Cordelia frowned,

"We … well, we never really got it together. Things kept coming up at the wrong moment. Like the time his ex-wife showed up -"

"A divorcee? Geez Cor, were you looking for a sugar daddy?"

"No." Cordelia shook her head, "He was only a few years older than me."

"So what happened?" Harmony shifted through the magazines on Cordelia's coffee table. Cleo. Cosmo. Vogue. Vanity Fair. Ooh, Heath Ledger interview. I'll take this with me.

"He … left. What about you? Is there anyone hunky in your life?" To Harmony, Cordelia's cheerfulness seemed a little brittle. If she had still been human she probably wouldn't have noticed it, but her vampire senses were sharper, clearer. She could literally smell Cordelia's changing moods. The sorrow when she spoke about this man, the fear when she had thought that Harmony was a vampire. Both were intriguing scents.

"Not really." Harmony waved a hand dismissively, then reconsidered, "Well, there is some salty goodness in the picture, but he's still hung up on his Ex."

"Men." Cordelia sighed, "Why can't they ever think with their brains?"

"Beats me." Harmony sprawled back on the couch, "Say, you got any Coke?" Sugar isn't blood, but it will do as a fix for now.

"Some. Decaf Diet, I think." Cordelia nodded.

Harmony wrinkled her nose,

"Geez Cor, what's the point?"

"It's that or hips that need a wide load warning." Cordelia walked through to her kitchen, then called back over her shoulder, "How does coffee sound?"

"Good, as long as it isn't Decaf as well." Harmony stood and prowled the room quickly whilst Cordelia's attention was distracted. Her track record as a hunter was poor, and Spike liked to remind her of the fact. Every bit of preparation she could do would help, and it never hurt to know where someone might run.

"I bumped into Xander Harris a few weeks ago." She called out suddenly to the brunette. It was a whim, a sudden moment of malice, and for an instant she almost felt guilty about it. Then she shrugged mentally. It's not like Cordelia will have to live with the pain for very long.

The mention of her ex-boyfriend caused a momentary reaction in Cordelia, quickly smothered. Harmony sensed it only as a brief shift in the other girl's scent.

"Really?" Cordelia said, too casually.

"Yeah," Harmony edged around a cross that was hanging on the wall near one of the bedrooms. That's the third. This is not a friendly house. "He's hooked up with that exchange student. Anya, I think her name was?"

"Oh?" Cordelia's tone was politely disinterested, and Harmony reluctantly abandoned the subject.

"So how is the acting career going? Will your name be up in lights any time soon?"

"Oh, you know how it is." Cordelia called back, "Still looking for the right script. But I'm getting out and meeting people and –" she broke off suddenly.

"Cor?" Harmony moved to the entry of the kitchen, "You okay?"

The brunette was leaning against the counter with both hands, the utensils for drip filter coffee laid out before her. She looked up at Harmony and shrugged, then laughed softly.

"Actually it pretty much hasn't gone anywhere." She admitted, "I did get a couple of roles in plays, but I got his other job and it keeps me pretty busy. To be honest I don't even remember when it was that I last did an audition."

"Job?" Harmony leaned against the wall, "I never thought you'd be a nine to five girl, Cor."

The other girl pulled a face,

"It's not really what you'd call nine to five," she said, "in fact, it ends up being all kinds of hours. But we help a lot of people who don't have anyone else they can turn to."

Harmony struggled to keep the surprise off her face. Cordelia Chase, charity worker?

"Help people? What, did you join Red Cross or something?"

Cordelia shook her head as she spooned ground coffee into a filter paper,

"No. Actually I work for a private investigator. Which sounds majorly tacky, I know. But we only take cases where we can help people. Most of them can't even pay us."

Harmony moved to stand beside Cordelia, closing the gap between them.

"You want a hand with the coffee?" she asked, casually. As she spoke, she scanned the bench-top. No crosses. This might be the best place to do this.

"Sure. Could you grab the cups from the cupboard?" Cordelia gestured vaguely.

"So how does this P.I. of your's stay in business?" Harmony asked as she opened the cupboard and pulled out a pair of plain white mugs. "I mean, if he keeps taking charity cases?"

"There's this guy named David." Cordelia said, watching the coffee drip slowly into the pot, "he's made millions in computers or something. He pays for everything."

"So David's your boss?" Harmony was interested despite yourself, "And he has millions? Is he cute? Have you made a move?"

"Hardly." Cordelia snorted, "David's okay, but he's an A1, pocket-protector nerd. I had my fill of that with Xander Harris. He just puts up the money. We let him hang with us sometimes, because he likes to hear about our cases. But it's Angel who runs the place."

"Angel?" Harmony frowned. The name seemed familiar, but for a moment she couldn't place it.

# Angel and his cronies are in this town, and I don't want to get their attention. #

It was Spike's voice in her head, distant and half-remembered. He'd said it in the car, just before dropping her off at the dress shop.

Uh oh.

She placed the mugs on the bench, remaining half turned from Cordelia, and let the ridges of her vampire's face slowly form.

"Angel. Interesting name." She kept her tone neutral. "Spike doesn't like him."

"Yeah, well Spike doesn't li-" Cordelia cut off with a choking sound as her mind caught up with her mouth. "Oh god."

"I'm sorry, Cor. I didn't come here to hurt you." Harmony turned, letting the other girl see what she was, but keeping her tone calm, almost apologetic. The words were a lie, but people tended to struggle less if you played repentant. "But I can't have you telling Angel that I was here. It might get back to the slayer, and Spike wouldn't like that."

"Oh, no need to worry. I won't say a word." Cordelia smiled falsely and edged toward the door to the living room. Harmony moved smoothly to cut her off, narrowing the gap between them.

"I'd like to believe you, Cordelia." She smiled, showing her teeth, "but you always were one to gossip. Still, we were friends once. How does eternal life sound to you?"

"Thanks for the offer, but I'd rather be dead." Cordelia edged back toward the bench. Harmony moved with her.

"No problem." Harmony shrugged, "I can do that." She lunged toward the brunette -

- and reeled back as the scalding pot of coffee leapt from the bench and splashed across her face. A yelp; more of surprise than pain; escaped her lips.

"What the -" she glared at Cordelia. Dammit, coffee stains are the worst. I'll never get this outfit clean again.

To her surprise, the brunette's smile was back, still a bit shaky, but much more convincing than it had been a few moments before.

"Did I mention I had a ghost?" Cordelia said, as a drawer five feet away from them slid open. A sharpened stake rose slowly into the air. Harmony watched it with steadily widening eyes. "Harmony, this is Dennis. Dennis, this is Harmony."

For a second, it seemed as if a young man were standing there, the floating stake in his hand. Harmony heard Cordelia's gasp of surprise as clearly as her own. Then the image was gone, and the stake began drifting slowly nearer.

"You might want to leave now, Harm." Cordelia moved so that the stake was directly between them, "Dennis is very protective."

The blonde vampire snarled, trying to step around the stake, but it swung to block her from approaching Cordelia. The brunette herself was now fumbling in a drawer, trying to find something without looking away from Harmony.

"I just know I have some holy water in here." Cordelia said with mock cheer, hands still rummaging in the drawer.

Harmony ran. Vampire or not, she didn't like demons or ghosts, and being splashed with coffee had been bad enough. Holy water was a far more dangerous proposition.

Wrenching the door open, the plunged outside, terrified that the ghost might hurl the stake at her back. Only one coherent thought was in her mind as she ran. Spike will be pissed if he ever hears about this.

Well, he wouldn't hear it from her, that was for sure.

The phone rang shrilly in the darkened office.

Angel, who was sitting alone in the gloom, reached out slowly and lifted the receiver. It was late for a client to be calling.

"Angel Invest-"

"Angel!" the voice was raised, urgent.

"Cordelia." He answered calmly, reaching for a pen and paper, "Did you have a vision?"

"I wish." The brunette sounded brittle, upset. "I had a visit from a vampire."

"Who was it?" the words were blurted out before he could stop himself.

"Yes, I'm fine Angel. Thank you so much for asking." Cordelia's tone was heavy with sarcasm.

"I'm sorry." He ran a hand through his hair, "I'm glad to hear you're okay."

"Don't worry. It wasn't your little blonde friend." The sarcasm and agitation were gone, replaced by a kind of tired indulgence.

Despite himself, Angel felt a sense of relief.

"Do you want me to come over?" he asked, "We really need Wesley to do a spell of revoking, but I could wake him -"

"No need." Cordelia interrupted. "Dennis chased her off. Scared the hell out of her, in fact."

"Dennis?" he echoed, "Dennis the ghost?"

"Yeah. It was way brave." Cordelia said conspiratorially. "Though come to think of it, I guess as a dead guy he wouldn't have much to be afraid of. But he sure frightened Harmony. And get this, for a moment there I could actually see him. We both could. He's never done that before."

"Really?" Angel frowned. Harmony. The name seemed familiar. "I'm sure Wesley will have an explanation for that. This vampire … it was someone you knew?"

"From high school." Cordelia confirmed, "We used to be friends. Until Buffy came to town and I started dating that loser Harris."

"Did she just turn up on the doorstep?" he asked, picking up the pen and scrawling the vampire's name on it. A Sunnydale vampire suddenly comes to in LA. Not likely to be a coincidence.

"No, I bumped into her by accident … in a dress shop." Cordelia paused, "Jesus. I had a latté with a vampire."

"Cordelia, please try to remember what happened. Did she say why she was in town?"

"No. But she did say she knew Spike. Actually-" Cordelia paused, "I think she basically said she was dating him. Which is just way weird, if you ask me."

Angel's frown deepened.

"This girl is connected to Spike? Are you sure you don't want me to come by?"

He could feel Cordelia hesitate.

"No." she said slowly, "It should be okay. Spike can't come in just because I said his floozy could, right?"

"No." Angel agreed dryly, "It doesn't work that way."

"Well, no problem then." Cordelia said, with cheerfulness that sounded slightly forced. "But maybe you and Wes could come by tomorrow morning and do that revoking thing? Just to be safe?"

Angel opened his mouth, intending to insist that he and Wesley should do the spell immediately, but as he did so the office door swung slowly inward. She was standing there, her hair gleaming softly in the glow of the streetlights.

"Okay." He said slowly, "As long as you're sure." He nodded to his visitor, who did not speak, but glided slowly to a chair and settled herself into it.

"Yeah … yeah, I'm sure." Cordelia didn't really sound as if she was, but his attention was only half on her now, and he heard only the words, not the tone.

"I'll see you in the morning, then."

"Yeah. G'night, Angel."

"Bye." He put the receiver down slowly, watching the woman in the chair as he did so. I should call Buffy. From the sound of it, Spike might be here in LA, and that means he's up to something. The thought of calling the slayer was not entirely welcome. He didn't speak to Buffy very often any more, and the times they had talked were usually uncomfortable. Every conversation was a temptation to tell her of the prophecy that he would day be human again. And I can't tell her that. She has to live her own life, not wait for mine.

"A bit late for phone calls, isn't it?" his visitor asked, a slightly teasing smile on her lips, "Not another woman, I trust."

He glanced at the clock.

"It was work." It was late; almost midnight. Too late to call Buffy. Leave it to the morning. The excuse didn't sound all that convincing, even to himself, but it was a reason to put off a call he didn't want to make.

He stood and moved around the desk to stand in front of her, then held out his hand. She took it and rose to her feet. As she did, they drew close, and he felt the dull need of his body for hers.

Slowly, he raised her hand to his lips and kissed it. She laughed; softly but huskily; and leaned closer. Their lips met.

And all thoughts of phoning Buffy slipped from his mind. There would be more than enough time in the morning, after she was gone.

The vampire ran.

She pursued, a savage smile stretched across her face. This one seemed old, and cunning. It had begun tracking her as soon as she left the dorms, hanging back far enough that it should have been safe. Any other night, it would have been right. But tonight, the need for a hunt had filled her. Her senses were on fire, and she had somehow known it was there. The hunter had become the prey.

A tombstone loomed before her and she hurdled it without breaking stride, gaining another yard on the fleeing vampire. It glanced back at her, almost tripping as it did, losing more ground. She smiled, anticipating the battle to come.

But no, it was a trick. The creature suddenly turned, opening the gap between them as she struggled to match its change in direction. Her momentum carried her toward a mausoleum, and she thrust off against it with one leg, her boot flaking stonework from the structure as she did so.

She grunted from a mixture of effort and enjoyment, relishing the sense of strength that filled her body. Throwing herself forward again, she closed the gap to her quarry, a stake held white-knuckled in her right hand.

The vampire dodged around another tombstone, but she plunged onward. She leapt, her right boot landing on the top of the stone. It shifted very slightly from the impact, but by then she was already pushing off, hurling herself at her target.

Her shoulder crashed into the vampire's back, and they both fell heavily. The impact jarred the wind from her, but she rolled instinctively, sucking in air as she did so, then flipped to her feet.

The vampire was only a moment slower than her, but that moment meant it had no chance to run again. Instead, it attacked, the pronounced ridges and distortion of its face confirming its advanced age.

She blocked the first blow with her right hand and drove the heel of her left into the side of the vampire's face. It lurched backward, then recovered its balance and tried to circle to its left, where there was more room between the tombstones.

She smiled savagely. Even now, the creature sought escape. But she had no intention of allowing that. Two quick steps barred the vampire's path and backed it toward the more densely clustered headstones, where flight would be impossible.

With a snarl, the creature attacked again, using its size and speed to try and push past her, still seeking an avenue of escape. She snarled back at it, grappling its arm as it tried to push her aside. The collision swung them in a semicircle, and she used the momentum to drive her knee into the creature's back. It grunted in pain, then howled as she dropped the stake, braced her free hand against its shoulder and wrenched its captured arm backward. She felt and heard the vampire's shoulder-joint snap out its socket and allowed herself a smile of satisfaction.

Grabbing the vampire by the back of the neck, she hurled it against a nearby headstone, then smashed a roundhouse kick into the side of its face. It fell, then struggled to its feet.

She reached inside her jacket, grabbed the stake nestled there, and slammed it into the creature's chest. It stood silently for a moment, then collapsed into dust.

She stood silently for a moment, savouring the victory, then raised her head and let her senses reach out across the graveyard. Nothing. It seemed she would have to make do with just the one slaying tonight. It was not enough to sate her hunger, but there would be more to come. And she should return to the room before the other girl realised she was gone.

Chapter Eight

Joyce Summers stood at the sink, sipping her coffee and staring out of the window. After spending the last eight weeks with three teenage girls in the house, she found suddenly being the sole occupant once more a little hard to get used to. Really, it was too large a house for only one occupant. Perhaps I should consider getting a lodger while Buffy is at college. She could let out the spare bedroom, which would leave Buffy's room available for those rare occasions when her daughter decided to visit her during the semester.

The extra money a lodger would bring in would certainly be welcome. The gallery was performing quite well, but maintaining a teenage daughter and two lodgers had been a substantial burden. And of course, expenses would not fall now that the girls were back at college. Not least because Buffy's idea of cooking is phoning for the pizza herself.

Joyce sighed. There were times when she desperately wanted a normal, everyday daughter. One who knew more about baking than killing demons, and who could spend her evenings in some part time college job, rather than prowling cemeteries and looking for vampires to slay. On the other hand, she had meant every word she had said to Buffy in the gallery two days before. Every time she thought of the role her daughter played in the world, she felt a sense of pride. She just wished it wasn't always accompanied by a sense of utter terror.

The phone rang suddenly and she started, almost dropping her coffee. Placing the mug carefully on the bench, she walked over to the telephone and picked up the handset.

"Joyce Summers."

"Joyce, it's Angel. Is Buffy there?"

"No. She's moved back into her room at the college." Joyce was surprised. As far as she knew, Angel had not phoned Buffy for several weeks, perhaps months. Then she remembered what Buffy had said at the gallery. "Are you calling about Faith?"

"Faith?" the vampire sounded surprised, "No. Wesley told me about Buffy's decision. I was actually calling about Spike."

Buffy made a decision about Faith? For a moment, Joyce felt hurt that Buffy had not told her as much herself. Aloud, she said only,

"Did you want the number of her dorm room? I could look it up for you."

There was a moment of silence at the other end, and she sensed Angel's reluctance. Things are still painful between them, I suppose.

"Or I could stop by at the college on my way to work and give Buffy a message for you." She suggested, "It's on my way." The last wasn't really true, but she wanted to speak to her daughter about Faith. I knew there was something strange about her sudden decision to move, yesterday.

"Yes." There was an edge of relief in Angel's tone, "If you could do that, Joyce, I'd appreciate it."

"No problem." She flipped open the notepad next to the phone and picked up the pen beside it. Scribbling quickly to make sure the ball-point was working properly, she said, "OK. What do you need me to pass on?"

Buffy rolled onto her back and then sat up slowly in her bed. To her surprise, she felt a little stiff and sore. First night in a new bed, I guess. She also felt tired, but that was far less surprising. She glanced across at the other bed where Faith, still fully-dressed except for her boots, was sprawled on top of the rumpled covers. It had taken every ounce of nerve Buffy possessed to close her eyes the night before, knowing that the other slayer was in the room. She had laid there, every sense straining to keep track of what Faith was doing, for what felt like hours. It was only after the other girl's breathing had settled into the slow, regular pattern of deep sleep that Buffy herself had been able to drift into a disjointed, fitful doze. And even then I had bad dreams. It had been a difficult night, and despite her tiredness, she was glad to see morning.

The blonde slayer smiled ruefully. Given my room-mate, I guess I should be glad I'm alive to see the morning. But that was unfair. Faith had done nothing to justify such suspicion since her most recent return to Sunnydale. Of course, the things she had done in previous visits still hung between them, and possibly always would.

Buffy frowned thoughtfully, her fingers curling unconsciously into the blankets of her bed.

She seems different this time. When she looked into Faith's eyes, she could still see the pain and grief. But there was something else there now, or perhaps it was that something was missing. Whatever the case, the Faith who had emerged from prison was a different girl to the one she had fought before the Ascension. Different even from the girl who had confessed her crimes to the police only a few months before.

In a moment of decision, Buffy swung her legs out of bed, stood up, and leaned over to gently shake the brunette awake.

Faith moaned, half rolled in the bed, then slowly opened her dark eyes. For a moment, as she first looked up at Buffy, the blonde saw naked fear within them. Then the brunette seemed to recover herself, and she stretched sinuously. When she looked at Buffy again, the fear was gone.

But the blonde knew she had not imagined what she saw. The realisation stunned her. Faith is afraid of me. More afraid than I thought she could be of anything.

"Morning." She said, not sure how to process what she had learned, "Sleep well?"

"Not really." Faith sat up slowly and raked her fingers through her hair, "Bad dreams. You?"

"The same." Buffy admitted, massaging her shoulder where the muscle felt knotted and sore.

"So what time is it, anyway?" Faith peered past her at the digital alarm clock on the table between the beds, "Seven thirty? Jesus, B. You couldn't let a girl sleep in?"

Buffy smiled and shook her head,

"You're a college student now, Faith. They have an unfortunate habit of scheduling morning classes, too, so get used to it."

"Classes?" a look of horror came across the brunette's face, "You mean you actually want me to go to them?"

"It is an important part of the whole 'college student' concept." Buffy reminded her, "You know; 'student'; as in one-who-studies?"

"Yeah, but …" Faith looked down, "I kinds thought that it was just a cover, y'know? That Red would just work her magic at the end of the term and give me passing grades."

"This is Willow you're talking about," Buffy smiled, "You know how seriously she takes this academic stuff. She'd probably have a coronary at the mere suggestion of faking your results."

"Oh, God." Faith buried her face in her hands, "I'm really not ready for this, B."

"You'll be fine." Buffy assured her, fighting the urge to pat the other girl on the shoulder, "I felt totally overwhelmed for my first couple of weeks here, too."

Faith flopped back onto the bed and stared at the ceiling,

"But I'm enrolled in Business Computing." She wailed, "And I barely know how to turn the damn things on."

Despite herself, Buffy smirked,

"That'll teach you to pick subjects because you think they'll score you points with Willow." She teased. "But don't worry, I'm sure it's not that bad. And Will can give you pointers."

Faith merely moaned softly. Now Buffy did reach out and gently rest a hand on the other girl's arm,

"At least give classes a try." She asked gently, "It would mean a lot to me, and I think you can do it."

Faith was silent for a moment, then propped herself up on one elbow and looked Buffy in the face. There was a surprised, almost diffident look in her eyes,

"Okay, B." she said finally, "I'll give the classes a shot. But we don't have classes today, so what's with the early wake-up?"

It was Buffy's turn to look away as a sense of reluctance overcame her. No. No backing down. I have to do this.

"I wanted to talk about what went wrong between us." She said at last, almost having to drive the words out of her mouth by force of will, "Before the Mayor's Ascension, I mean."

"B," Faith sounded tired, "You know I'm no good at this heart to heart stuff. It took everything I had to ask you for another chance." She looked down and away from Buffy, her hands unconsciously rubbing back and forth on her jeans, "We both know that I screwed up before. Can't we just leave it at that? Do we have to go through every stupid mistake I made all over again?"

"I don't want to talk about your mistakes." Buffy mumbled, "I want to talk about mine."

Faith's head rose, a look of surprise evident on her face. She laughed softly, tentatively,

"Your mistakes? I think you got your wires crossed, B. I was the one who tried to help the wannabe demon, remember?"

"Yeah, but …" Buffy sighed and sat on the edge of Faith's bed. Wordlessly, the brunette slayer slid her legs up, giving the blonde more room, "After Allan Finch died, things between us seemed so out of control. I tried to help you, but you shut me out. Then you tried to make Angel evil again, and I guess from there I gave up trying. And for a long time, I blamed you for what that happened between us afterwards. I was so sure I'd done everything I could to give you a chance. In LA, I didn't want to believe that you could change. But now, you come to me from prison and everything I was so sure about comes crashing down. You were going to kill yourself to help me. To throw yourself off a building." She turned her head to look at the brunette, who had been silent throughout Buffy's explanation. "And I have to face the fact that someone did get through to you. That you could change. And that means that I failed you. I don't want that to happen again. So I need to know what I did wrong."

Faith looked at her silently for a long moment, then reached out and gently touched her hand,

"Jesus, Buffy." she said quietly, for once using the blonde's full name, "You want me to tell you that you screwed up two years ago? No problem. You did make mistakes. At the time, I hated you for not doing more to help me. But you were eighteen years old and I'd just killed someone. How were you supposed to know what to do to make things better? How was anyone?"

"But …" Buffy couldn't look at the other slayer, "Someone must have been able to help you. Angel helped you. But I didn't. I wouldn't."

Faith sighed,

"Look at me." She said quietly. Buffy did so, reluctantly. The brunette smiled and stroked some of Buffy's hair away from her face, "Yes, Angel helped me. But he's a two hundred year-old vampire. He has decades of experience of living with pain. You may be the slayer, but you're also a teenager. You can't be expected to get everything right, all the time. No matter how much you might want to."

Buffy returned the smile half-heartedly,

"When did you become such a wise woman?"

To her surprise, Faith's smile abruptly faded, and the brunette looked down, suddenly pensive. Buffy frowned in confusion,

"What's the matter?"

"I … met someone in prison."

"Met?" Buffy squeaked, "You mean like Willow and Tara 'met'?"

"No." Faith shook her head, "I mean … I liked Squirrel. But not that way. She was just … a good friend to me, I guess. We were cell-mates, and she taught me a lot about dealing with what I did. And about not blaming other people for things going wrong."

"Squirrel?"

Faith shrugged,

"Her real name was Sandra Dawson. But everybody called her Squirrel. She'd been in jail nearly sixteen years. I never thought I'd meet anyone like her inside. What I just said to you was something that she once told me."

"She sounds like she is a really good friend." Buffy said softly.

"She was." Faith said, looking down, "She died about a week ago. Someone stuck her full of bad drugs. I … I found her body. It's strange, B. I can slay vamps and demons and never feel a thing. I can even deal with seeing their victims. But seeing Squirrel … it tore me up. That was when I knew that there was no point in me staying alive if I was in jail. I couldn't even protect my own cell-mate, let alone anybody else. And Angel had told me what happened with you and Adam not long before that. I knew you were going to need help. Help I couldn't give you."

Faith fell silent. Buffy watched her for a moment, then spoke.

"But to kill yourself -"

"You haven't got it yet, have you, B." Faith sighed, "Being the slayer was what gave me a purpose. Without it, I was just another screw-up kid with no future. In jail, I couldn't be the slayer. And meanwhile you were saving the world again. My life had lost its purpose. But I knew that my death could have one."

Buffy swallowed. God. The stark clarity of the other girl's reasoning was deeply disturbing.

"Your life does have purpose." She said, quietly. "You're a slayer, Faith. And I'm going need a slayer to watch my back."

Faith smiled, and for a second Buffy could almost see the child the brunette had once been.

"Thanks, B." the words were said quietly, but with conviction, "You won't regret giving me this chance, I promise."

Buffy didn't answer, but as she looked at the other girl, she felt confident for the first time since Faith returned that she had made the right decision.

"So anyway." Faith swung her legs off the bed and stood up, "You got any food in the place?"

"There are some cookies in the cupboard," Buffy offered.

"Hardly the breakfast of champions." Faith remarked dryly, "We should buy some stuff today."

"Stuff?" Buffy asked, "You mean stuff we would then cook ourselves? Will and I basically used to order in, mostly. Cooking is not my strong point."

Faith tugged her rumpled t-shirt down and peered into the cupboards,

"Isn't that kinda expensive?" she asked, "I mean, I guess you and Will got allowances from your Moms or something, but I don't really have much cash myself. Angel said he'd fix me up if I needed it, but I don't want to rely on him y'know?"

Buffy frowned. The monetary problems of their arrangement hadn't occurred to her before Faith raised them. Way to plan, B.

"Did you say something?" Faith was twisted around, looking at Buffy over her shoulder.

The blonde started, then shook her head.

"No." At least, I didn't mean to. "I hadn't thought about the money side of things. Not too smart of me, I guess."

Faith shrugged,

"No problem, B. If I give you a crash course in cooking we'll be five by five in no time."

"You cook?" Buffy could hear the surprise in her own voice.

"B, you saw the dive I was living in the last time I was here. It wasn't exactly catered, and I never had the cash for much in the way of take-out. Hell, half the time I couldn't afford to use a laundry. So yeah, I cook. Nothing fancy, but I cook."

"Groceries. The excitement of being a vampire-fighting slayer duo just never stops, does it." Buffy rose and walked over to look in her wardrobe, which was filled to bursting with outfits of all kinds, as well as her trusty 'slayer's bag of tricks'. She felt a sudden twinge of guilt. Faith had about three outfits when she unpacked last night. Money really is going to be a problem.

"Wicked!" Faith exclaimed suddenly from where she had been rummaging through one of the remaining cardboard boxes, "Tea!"

Buffy grinned,

"Giles gave it to me before we left his place yesterday." She said, "But I forgot all about it. Sorry."

"Five by five, B." Faith said, setting up a small electric kettle.

"Where did you pick up a taste for tea, anyway?" Buffy couldn't help but ask.

To her surprise, Faith froze, and the muscles in her back tensed suddenly. The dark-haired girl half turned toward her, paused, and then said quietly,

"You probably don't want an answer to that."

"What?" Buffy frowned, then realised what the other girl meant, "Oh. Him."

"Yeah," Faith answered in a subdued voice, "the boss -" she broke off, "the mayor liked a cup first thing each morning. Said it was much healthier than coffee. I drank it at first just to humour him, but then I got to like it."

"I'm sorry. I shouldn't have asked." It was weird to think of the mayor doing normal, everyday things like drinking tea.

"It's okay, B. Those things happened, and we can't pretend they didn't, right?"

"Yeah, I guess you're right." However much we might want to.

Buffy dressed quickly, whilst Faith's attention was diverted with the tea. Oddly, she felt a little uncomfortable changing with the other slayer in the room, a feeling she had never had when sharing with Willow. It'll pass.

Faith moved back to her rumpled bed and lounged on it casually, a steaming mug of tea in her hand,

"So what's today's plan? You mentioned something about Spike, right?"

"Yeah." Buffy sat on the edge of her own bed, "Will thinks he's up to something sneaky. Which is almost certainly true. But we don't know what or where. We need to think of some way to find out what he is up to."

Faith opened her mouth to reply, but as she did, there was a knock at the door.

"Expecting someone?" the brunette asked.

"No." Buffy walked toward the door, "But we may as well find out who it is."

Riley managed a smile as the door swung open to reveal Buffy.

"Hey," he said quietly, his eyes straying to the brunette on the bed behind Buffy. So she went through with it, after all.

"Hi." Buffy sounded as subdued as he had, "you want to come in?"

"Yeah, thanks." He said nervously, half ducking his head as he stepped past her.

Faith stood slowly, and put a steaming mug down on the table next to the bed.

"I should split and leave you guys to talk," she said, wiping her hands on her jeans in a nervous gesture, "give you some privacy."

"It's okay, Faith." Buffy's words were addressed to the other slayer, but her eyes were on him. It was obviously a gesture of support for the other girl, and she was equally obviously gauging his reaction.

"It's not a problem." Faith grabbed her jacket from the back of a chair, "I can just wait in the hall."

"Actually Faith, I'd like you to stay." He said the words quietly, meeting Buffy's stare with a mild expression, "What I have to say affects you as well as Buffy."

Both slayers looked surprised by his words. Buffy closed the door slowly and leaned against it, whilst Faith returned to the bed and laid her jacket on her lap, then picked up the mug she had been drinking from when he arrived. The look on her face as she watched him was guarded. He resisted the urge to look at Buffy's face, trusting that she would be willing to hear him out.

"I'm sorry about yesterday." He began, moving to sit at one end of Buffy's bed. After a moment's hesitation, the blonde slayer moved over to join him, though she did not take his hand, something she normally would have done without thinking. "I over-reacted. The scene at Giles' was ugly enough without me storming out, and I want to apologise."

Now Buffy did put her hand in his. He watched Faith see this, and for a moment there was something in her eyes that surprised him. Jealousy? Don't be crazy. Mentally, he shook his head. It's no use trying to read someone like Faith. Who knows how she thinks?

"I'm not going to pretend that I'm happy to have you here, Faith." He said to the brunette, "You used me last time you were here. Worse, you used me to hurt Buffy. But if she can give you another chance, then I guess I should too."

He paused, then turned his head and directed his next words to Buffy, squeezing her hand gently as he did so,

"I don't want to risk what we have together. If you're willing to let Faith stay, then I'll learn to work with her. You're too important for me not to." He drew in a breath and gave her a half smile, "So I hope you can forgive me for what I did yesterday."

"Oh, Riley." Buffy breathed, then leaned over to hug him, "Thank you."

He put his arm around her and hugged her tightly. I'll always be there to protect you, Buffy.

Faith had turned her face away when they hugged, apparently ill at ease with the open display of affection. Now he spoke to her again, drawing her eyes back to him. There was no warmth in them, just as he felt none for her, but whatever he had caught a glimpse of before was also gone.

"What do you say, Faith?" he asked, keeping his tone mild despite his distrust. "Do you think we can work together?"

For a long moment, Faith did not answer, and he felt Buffy's nails dig into his palm.

"Sure." She shrugged at last, as if indifferent, "Any friend of B's, y'know?"

"Good." He said, without meaning it. At least now I'll be able to keep an eye on you.

There was an uncomfortable moment of silence after he spoke, and he was reminded of the early days of his relationship with Buffy, when neither of them had been able to say what they felt. He had thought those days were over, but Faith's presence seemed to have opened a distance between them again.

"We were going to do some shopping and then set up a meeting at Giles'." Buffy said at last, "Did you want to come with?"

"What?" he had been lost in his own thoughts, and only half-heard her words, "Oh. No, I can't. I have to prep some classes with Professor Verricker this morning. But I should be able to get to Giles'. What time is the meeting?"

Buffy glanced at Faith, who shrugged indifferently.

"Two?" the blonde suggested, "After lunch?"

He nodded,

"I should be finished with Professor Verricker by noon, so getting to Giles' place for two won't be a problem. You're going to call the others?"

"Xander and Will. They'll tell their Ess-Ohs."

He looked blank, and Buffy grinned,

"Significant Others."

"Right." He shook his head, "Well, I need to be at Professor Verricker's office by eight thirty, so I should get a move on. I'll see you at two."

"Great." Buffy smiled and accompanied him to the door. "See you this afternoon."

He leaned down slightly and they kissed slowly, her small frame seeming delicate in his arms. As he straightened, he glanced over at Faith to see her reaction, but her face was turned toward the window, away from them.

"Bye." He whispered.

"Bye." Buffy gave him one last quick kiss, "And thank you, Riley. For understanding."

"Anything for you." He put his hand on the door handle and took one last look at the black-clad brunette. Anything. I'll be watching you, Faith.

Spike lurched out of the car and stood, swaying slightly, in the cave where he kept it parked.

"I feel great." He announced, clumsily lighting a cigarette.

"That's because you're drunk." Harmony, who had rather more slowly emerged from the car, favoured him with a sour look, "And you almost got us killed twice on the way home."

"Fun, wasn't it?" Spike drew a lungful of smoke and blew it toward the blonde vampire. "And I had to beat the sun home, didn't I, pet?" Silly cow.

If anything, Harmony's look grew even frostier,

"That wouldn't have been an issue if you hadn't spent the whole night on one of your binges with that toad of a friend of yours."

"Hey!" Spike smirked, then felt himself sway and leaned against the car for support, "Paolo is a bloody good mate of mine."

"Whatever." Harmony sniffed, drawing out the first syllable.

Slowly, the back door of the car opened and the man Paolo had introduced as 'Hansard' emerged. He was of average height, with a slender build and thinning hair. His age was indeterminate; somewhere between thirty and sixty; and he wore an air of ordinariness like a grey cloak. It was difficult to look at him. It was not that it was painful, or even distressing. But the eye kept wandering off to more interesting things, and before you knew it, you'd forgotten he was there.

"That's a damn fine trick you got there, mate." Spike waggled his cigarette at the man, "I can see you'll prove to be a bloody good investment."

Hansard smiled thinly, but did not speak. Harmony frowned,

"What it is, is creepy." She muttered, "The guy's probably a pervert."

"I assure you, child, that I am nothing of the sort." Hansard's tone was mild, but Harmony still took a couple of quick steps away from him. Spike could see why. There was something about the man's voice. He sounded dead, in a way that no creature Spike had ever met had sounded.

"So you're sure you can handle the slayer, mate?" Spike realised his cigarette was exhausted and, cursing, lit a new one. "She's got a whole bagful of tricks, this one."

"Quite sure." Hansard turned his head to face the male vampire, "She has never met anyone like me, before. My people … do not mix with normals very often."

"I can see why, creepozoid."

"Harm." Spike sighed, "play nice, pet."

Harmony gave them both a dirty look,

"I'm going to go and see if there's any food." She announced in a surly voice, and began to walk toward the tunnel at the back of the cave.

"You should have picked up a snack in town, ducks." Spike grinned mirthlessly, "There were plenty available."

Harmony stopped suddenly and turned to look at him, then just as suddenly; and without saying a word; turned and stalked off again.

"I wonder what got up her backside." Spike took a drag of his cigarette and leaned inside the car for the last of the whisky.

"You taunt her unnecessarily." Hansard observed. Despite himself, Spike started. Unobserved, the man had moved to stand beside him. Hansard's thin smile returned at Spike's discomfort, "You see." He said quietly, "The slayer will be as oblivious to me as you."

"I'm beginning to believe it." Spike admitted, "But those slayer powers of hers can be damn annoying. She's got an instinct for demons like you wouldn't believe."

"That will not help her." Hansard assured Spike in his quiet, dead voice, "I am not a demon."

Spike blew smoke lazily and took a swig of the whisky,

"I don't care if you're poached haddock, mate." He paused to belch, "So long as you keep her under tabs for me."

"I shall begin immediately." Hansard's reply came from the mouth of the cave, and Spike span to face in that direction. The nondescript man was already walking into the sunshine, a good twenty feet from where Spike had been sure he was standing.

"Eerie bastard." He muttered, with grudging respect. But money well spent. Paolo still delivers the goods.

Draining the last of the whisky, he tossed the bottle into the back seat and slammed the door shut. He really was feeling good, better than he had in months. Even better than when I realised that damn chip wasn't working anymore. It was the thrill of the hunt, back at last. He would make them all dance to his tune. The slayer and her fan club. Harmony. Every vampire in Sunnydale. But more than any of them, he would reclaim the only thing that mattered.

He smiled cruelly as he walked toward the tunnel from the cave, feeling the weight of the Taladar's eyes in his trench-coat pocket. It's almost time to begin.

Buffy left the door half ajar as she turned to look at Faith. To her surprise, the answering look from the other slayer was subdued and thoughtful.

"What's the matter?" she asked, feeling a twinge of annoyance. Riley comes here to offer an olive branch and she's still not happy?

Faith opened her mouth to answer, but as she did so they both caught the faint sound of Riley's voice from some distance down the hall.

"Hi, Mrs Summers."

"Good morning, Riley. Is Buffy in?"

"Yes. They both are."

The subdued look on Faith's face changed so suddenly to utter horror that it would have been comical if Buffy wasn't sure that her own expression was much the same.

The brunette took two quick steps to the window,

"I should go." She offered, hand on the latch.

Buffy shook her head,

"No point." What's Mom doing here?

"Buffy?" They could both hear Joyce's footsteps near the door. Faith looked ready to go out the window regardless of what Buffy said. Not knowing how else to stop her, the blonde quickly moved over and grabbed her hand.

"We have to do this eventually, Faith." She said quietly, but with as much conviction as she could muster.

"We couldn't wait for a better time?" Faith tried half-heartedly to free her hand, but Buffy held on doggedly.

"Will there ever be one?" It was the critical question, and they both knew the answer. Faith's shoulders slumped and she swallowed.

"Guess not." She mumbled, sinking onto her bed, eyes focussed on the ground.

Abruptly realising she still held the other girl's hand, Buffy released it and moved toward the door.

"Coming, Mom." She almost blushed at the quiver in her voice. Demons and vampires are no problem. But hit me with a soon-to-be-wigginned Mom and I'm a mess.

At the last moment, she lost the courage to swing the door open and instead stepped up to peer through the opening, her fingers resting lightly on the handle.

"Hi, honey." Her mother smiled, then dropped her voice conspiratorially, "Riley said something about your room-mate being here, and I need to give you a message from Angel. Is there somewhere private we can go?"

A message from Angel? Why didn't he call me himself?

The temptation to agree to her mother's suggestion was very strong. It would avoid so many complications. Unsure, Buffy twisted her head to look at Faith. The other slayer had bounced to her feet and was vigorously gesturing for the blonde to leave, a look of relief on her face. Buffy frowned and bit her lip. I don't want to lie to Mom. The longer we leave this, the worse it gets.

Faith must have seen something in her expression, because the brunette suddenly began waving her hands across her body, silently mouthing the word "No" repeatedly. It was the most vocal display of silence that Buffy had ever witnessed.

"Buffy?" her mother said from behind her, in a slightly worried tone.

"Just a sec, Mom." Buffy kept her eyes on Faith and put on her best beseeching look, mouthing the word "Please", just once.

For a second, she thought Faith would continue to argue, but a look of resignation abruptly came over the other slayer's face, and she shrugged, then crossed her arms protectively across herself, her gaze wavering between Buffy and the floor. The blonde had only seen Faith look so vulnerable once before; on that painful night at Angel's.

Giving Faith the most reassuring smile she could muster, and a silent "Thank You.", Buffy turned back to face her mother.

"Actually Mom, my room-mate already knows about Angel. So … " Buffy stopped and swallowed, "… so you should just come in. But try not to freak out, okay?"

Joyce looked confused as Buffy slowly began to open the door.

"What's the matter, honey? Why would I -" she stopped with a soft, strangled sound from deep in her throat. For a moment, she seemed to be struggling to speak at all, before finally forcing out one incredulous word, "Faith?"

"Hi, Mrs S." Faith mumbled, eyes fixed on the floor, her posture hunched and defensive.

Joyce turned to Buffy, her expression one of frozen shock,

"What … how … " seemingly unable to articulate what she was feeling, Joyce lapsed into silence.

Gently, Buffy took her mother by the arm,

"It's okay, Mom." She said quietly, "Really. Come inside and we'll explain. Please?"

"Does -" Joyce paused, then began again, in a slightly less shaken voice, "does Mr Giles know that Faith is here?"

Buffy blushed deeply, fighting the urge to stare at the floor in the same way as Faith was doing,

"Yeah." She admitted quietly, "We told him last night. We were going to tell you, but -"

Joyce turned and ran.

"Mom?" Buffy lunged into the hallway and called after her mother, stunned and confused. Oh God. I knew she would be upset, but nothing like this.

"Christ." Faith was at the doorway, her expression as stunned as Buffy's own.

"Do you think I should go after her?" Buffy asked, torn by indecision.

"You're asking me?" Faith smiled without humour, then sighed. "Look, B. Maybe this whole deal was a bad idea. I mean, Riley, Xander and your mom have made it pretty clear I'm not welcome. And Red's only putting up with it because you want her to. I could go back to Angel's. He can use the help as much as you, and I don't want to wreck your life."

Gently, Buffy laid a hand on Faith's arm,

"If you'd said that last night, I'd probably have agreed with you." She admitted, "But after our conversation this morning, I want you to stay here. You were willing to give up everything for me, and I … I guess I need to show you that I'm willing to risk just as much as that. Mom will calm down after a while. When she does, I'll try to talk to her again."

Faith's expression was half hope, half doubt,

"How can you be so good to me, B?" she said, in a voice so quiet it was little more than a breath.

The blonde slayer gently guided the brunette back into her room. No. Our room, not mine.

"Someone has to be." She meant it as a flippant remark, to lighten the mood, but it didn't come out sounding that way, and Buffy paused, then spoke again, "Besides, would things be any less difficult in LA?"

"Maybe." Faith walked over to the window and stared out of it. She does that a lot, since she came back. "Cordelia wouldn't be too happy to see me, but Wesley and Angel have done more to help me than I ever deserved."

Buffy frowned slightly,

"I have to ask you about that, Faith." She said slowly, not wanting to upset the other girl, "Wesley, I mean. He seems to really trust in you. How did that happen? I mean … after what you did…" her voice trailed off as she inwardly berated herself. Great going. Could you have brought up a worse subject?

She expected the other slayer to close up after her clumsy question. But to her surprise, Faith's expression became saddened, rather than defensive.

"I've been asking myself the same question about you, B." the brunette confessed, her voice not quite steady, "I did worse to you than I ever did to Wesley. How can you trust me?"

For a moment, Buffy was speechless. It was a question she had been asking herself ever since she learned that Faith was back in Sunnydale. She hadn't been able to answer herself, but now she found the answer for Faith.

"Because I want to." She said quietly. "When I heard you had died in prison I was seriously wigged. I didn't want that night at Angel's to be the last thing between us. I felt like we'd both been robbed of something." She sighed, "I felt like I'd let things get out of control."

Faith looked down,

"And you can't stand that, can you?" her voice was soft, but they both heard the echo of that night on the roof at Angel's.

"The fact is, I haven't been in control since the day I met you."

"Yes. You have." Faith turned, actually looking at her for the first time in the conversation.

Buffy paused. I'm not even sure we're having the same conversation any more. There was something about the other girl's words that unnerved her a little, but she couldn't tell what it was.

"So … Wesley?" the change of subject sounded weak to her, but she didn't know what else to say.

"Yeah," Faith rubbed her hair back slowly, "for the first two months I was in jail, Angel came to see me every week. God knows how he did it, given that visiting hours weren't exactly scheduled to be vampire-friendly. But he came. And it meant a lot to me. I played it down, of course. Like I didn't care." She shrugged, "But I didn't fool him. I never could. And he kept coming back."

Buffy slowly sat down on her bed. After a moment, Faith sat opposite her, continuing her tale.

"Then one day at lunch I looked up from my plate and right into the eyes of a guard. And I saw the demon inside her." Faith's voice shook slightly, "It scared the hell out of me, B. I was the only could see what she was, but there wasn't a damn thing I could do about it. I mean, I could have killed her. But I never would have got outside of a jail again. And you don't want to know what they do to cons who kill guards."

Buffy nodded slowly. She could sense the other slayer's frustration even now, months after the events being described.

"What happened?"

"I did the only thing I could." Faith stared at her hands, "I kept my head down and waited for Angel. He was due to come two days later. I had to watch for two days whilst this demon singled out the weak or stupid and … toyed with them." she hunched over slightly, rocking gently back and forward as she continued, "And then Angel didn't come. I almost snapped. If Squirrel hadn't been there, I would have gone after the demon myself, and screw what happened to me."

"She knew about the demon?"

Faith shook her head,

"She just knew I had a problem with the guard. She kept me away from her for three days, all the while trying to find out what was wrong. And of course I couldn't tell her." The brunette sighed, "In the end, I phoned Angel's office. I don't know what the hell I thought I was doing. Wesley answered. I should have expected it wouldn't be Angel. I froze. I couldn't even say a word. I just kept listening to him say 'Hello?' over and over into the phone."

Buffy shivered slightly. The pain in the other girl's voice was still raw and new.

"Maybe I shouldn't have asked you about this." She suggested gently.

Faith grimaced,

"Doesn't work like that, B." she mumbled, "I tried running away from what I did before. If I can't do better than that this time, then you really should have killed me back in the motel room, because I'll just screw things up again."

"No. You won't." Buffy shook her head, "But this is hurting you –"

"Yeah. But that's the point." Faith cut in, "It's self-inflicted, B. The pain I caused to others is coming back on me."

"Who told you that?" Buffy knew the answer even as she asked the question. She could almost hear his voice in Faith's as she said the words.

"You know who. And you know he's right –"

"No, he isn't." Buffy shook her head. "You aren't him. He can't heal. That's the whole point of his curse. But people can. You can. You have to, or you'll break."

"I'm strong enough, B."

"No one is that strong." Buffy leaned forward suddenly and brought her face close to Faith's, "I've run from my problems before, and I learned that it doesn't give you any answers. But neither does punishing yourself. I've learned that, too."

Faith did not look up,

"But it's all I know how to do, B." she said, finally, "Run, or fight. It's all I've done my whole life."

"That's okay. I'm just going to show you a new way to fight."

Chapter Nine

Dressed only in an over-sized shirt that stretched to her knees, Willow knuckled sleep from her eyes with one hand while answering the shrilling telephone with the other.

"Hello?" she mumbled sleepily.

"Hey Will, it's me." Buffy sounded anxious, "Did I wake you?"

"Not really." Willow said, not lying exactly. "Tara and I were just up late last night doing spell stuff. Still a bit bleary this morning. What's up?"

"My mom found out about Faith."

"Oh." Willow fumbled for the chair next to the phone and sat down heavily, "How did she take it?"

"Not well. She just took off on me."

"She what?"

"Yeah." Buffy sounded as disbelieving as Willow herself felt, "I don't know where she's gone, but I'm going to give her some time to cool down and then go home to talk to her."

"You want me to come over?"

"What? No." Buffy paused, "Before mom realised Faith was here, she mentioned something about a message from Angel. I guess he didn't want to talk to me himself –"

"You want me to be research gal?"

"Yeah, thanks." Willow could hear the relief in Buffy's voice. "Could you call Cordelia and find out what Angel wanted to tell me, then see what you can track down that might be related to Spike?"

"Sure." Willow answered. As she did, the bedroom door opened and Tara stuck her head out. Willow gave her a wave, then continued, "We meeting at Giles' today?"

"Yeah. Two o'clock."

"Okay. Tara and I will be there." Willow beckoned to Tara and the blonde witch emerged from the bedroom. She was wearing Willow's flannel dressing gown. "How are things with Faith?"

"They're good." The confidence of Buffy's reply surprised the redhead. "Except for mom, I mean."

"Okay." Willow leaned forward slightly as Tara started to gently caress the side of her neck, "I hope you work things out with your mom. And we'll see you at two, okay?"

"Yeah. See you then."

"Bye." Willow slowly put the handset down.

"Buffy?" asked Tara quietly.

"Uh huh." The redhead stood and slid her arms around her blonde lover's waist. "I have to call Cordelia and find out what Angel wanted, then we need to research."

"Won't you need a free h-hand for that?" Tara asked softly, her breath hitching as Willow's lips moved closer to her own.

"I guess." Willow kissed her lightly, "But I wanted to say good morning, first."

Slowly, Tara lifted her hand and stroked the back of it across Willow's cheek. There was a distant look in her eyes. Almost, but not quite, like sadness.

"What's the matter?" Willow asked, worriedly.

"I love you."

"I know." Willow hugged Tara tighter, "I love you, too."

The blonde witch smiled gently,

"I just wanted to tell you. Now, you'd better make that phone call." She gently slid out of Willow's arms and walked away, into the kitchen.

The redhead watched her go, totally oblivious to the broad smile on her own face.

"I can't believe you didn't tell me, Rupert!"

Surprised, Giles stepped back from his front door. Joyce Summers stormed past him and into the apartment, a furious expression on her face.

Oh dear. He closed the door slowly.

"I assume you have spoken to Buffy?" he said quietly, without turning around.

"I went to see her." Joyce's voice shook with suppressed anger, "She told me Faith was staying with her. How could you let my daughter take a risk like that? How could you not tell me?"

"Joyce," he turned around slowly, speaking quietly and gently, "Buffy –"

The phone rang, interrupting him. He looked at it for a moment, not sure if he should answer. Whilst he did, Joyce snatched up the receiver,

"Call back later." She snapped, and slammed the handset back down.

Giles rubbed the side of his neck slowly as Joyce glared at him. For several moments, neither of them spoke. As the silence stretched out, the anger in Joyce's expression began to crumble into worry and stress.

"How could you not tell me?" she asked again, her voice now plaintive, rather than furious.

"Buffy wanted to tell you herself." He walked over to her and gently laid a hand on her arm, "She asked me not to say anything until she could explain things to you."

"Things didn't quite go to plan, then." Joyce replied with a slight hint of bitterness, "For once she wasn't able to keep me in the dark."

"She only does that because she loves you." Giles guided Joyce to the couch.

"What?"

"Joyce, every night of her life, Buffy is in danger. It's an unavoidable part of being the slayer. She tries to protect you from that as much as she can."

"She's my daughter. I'm supposed to protect her."

"The rules change when your daughter is the slayer." Giles sat beside Joyce on the couch, holding her hands between his. "I … care for Buffy a great deal. It … sending her out to fight demons and vampires … it's hard. Every time, I wonder if she'll meet something she can't defeat."

"Then how can you do it?" Joyce whispered, "How can you let her risk her life like that? And don't tell me it's because she's the 'chosen one'. That's not a good enough reason."

"I do it because fear isn't the only thing I feel. There's also pride. Pride and admiration." He paused, collecting his thoughts, "Buffy doesn't fight vampires because she is the 'chosen one'. She fights vampires because she knows that they need to be fought. Knowing Buffy and her friends is the one worthwhile thing that being a Watcher has given me."

Joyce looked at him silently for a long moment, and then said quietly,

"You love her, don't you?"

"Like she was my own." He admitted, nodding slowly.

Joyce kissed him then, gently but firmly, her lips warm where they touched his own.

"Oh my." He said weakly, when their lips parted. "That was unexpected."

Joyce smiled slightly,

"I've been waiting for weeks for it to happen. It seemed to be time to take matters into my own hands."

"Yes. Well." Giles coughed lightly, "I wanted to sure it wasn't too soon. Our last … courtship … was rather … precipitous."

Joyce's smile broadened as a blush spread across her cheeks. Then each slowly faded as she became more serious,

"What about Faith, Rupert?" she asked, "I'm still upset that Buffy didn't tell me about her decision, but more importantly, is she in any danger? Can we trust Faith?"

"Yes, I think we can." Giles said slowly, "When Buffy first told me Faith was back in Sunnydale, I admit I assumed the worst. But having seen her last night … I believe she is truly sorry for what occurred before. She wouldn't put herself through all this pain if she wasn't."

"Pain?" Joyce's eyes widened slightly, "What happened?"

"It was … very emotional." Giles said, uncomfortably. "Faith and Buffy were under a lot of pressure. And suspicion, in Faith's case. Both of them were very … distraught … by the end. It seemed easier if they waited a few days to speak to you."

"I just wish she had told me." Joyce admitted, "I would have supported her."

Giles looked down at their clasped hands,

"Perhaps there are things that Buffy would wish you had told her." He suggested quietly.

For a moment, Joyce looked confused, and then slowly comprehension dawned,

"You mean us."

"Yes." Giles agreed, although it had not been a question. "Buffy asked me recently if I was hiding anything from her. I … evaded … the question. But perhaps, if you want her to tell you more about her life, you should share more of yours."

He fell silent, hoping his words had not sounded too judgemental.

Joyce did not answer at first, but then she slowly nodded,

"You're right." She admitted, "It is a bit hypocritical of me, isn't it?"

Giles did not reply. There was no right answer to a question like that.

"Are you happy here?" Joyce asked suddenly.

"Pardon?" he blinked in surprise, wondering what had prompted the question.

"It's just…" Joyce trailed off, then spoke again, "You're alone in this apartment. I'm alone in my house. And I have a spare room. I was thinking of letting it out." She looked at him with a calm expression, but he could feel the tension in her hands.

"And you'd like me to move in?" he asked slowly, unsure of what was being suggested.

"I could use the help with expenses." Joyce explained, "And it would be nice not to sneak around like we have been. I'm not sixteen anymore, and it feels more tiresome than exciting. Besides, this way I would probably see more of Buffy."

Giles smiled slightly,

"How do you think she would react to it?" he asked softly, "Even if I am only renting the spare room, Buffy knows what happened between us before."

A smile spread over Joyce's face, and for a moment Giles was sure he saw a glint of mischief in her eyes,

"My daughter seems to feel free to choose her own room mates." She said lightly, "I don't see how she could object to me exercising the same right."

Giles felt an answering smile tug at his own lips.

"My lease has another month to run." He said, "But if the offer were still open then, I would be glad to accept it."

"It will still be open." Joyce promised, leaning slightly toward him. He released her hands and they drew together, sinking into a long, slow kiss.

Five minutes passed in near silence, as the kiss deepened, ended, and began again. Shoes were kicked off, forgotten as Joyce lay back across the couch, Giles kissing her throat, their fingers entwined.

And then the phone rang again.

Faith watched as Buffy stared in confusion at the phone handset, then slowly put it down.

"What's up, B?" she asked, lacing up her boots, "Giles not in?"

"Mom answered." Buffy said softly, a confused expression on her face. "She said 'phone back later' and hung up. What was she doing at Giles'?"

Faith shrugged,

"Didn't you say something about her and the G-man getting into lip-lock one time? Maybe she was looking for a repeat performance."

"Eww, Faith." Buffy pulled a face. "Once was bad enough."

"Can you think of a better explanation?" Faith grinned. "I mean, Giles is pretty cute, y'know. And your Mom's a woman with needs, same as the rest of us."

Buffy's only response was an inarticulate mewl of horror.

"Chill, B. I was just messin' with your head." Faith fibbed, then spat on her fingers and rubbed the toe of her left boot. Jesus, talk about repressed. How'd she ever cope with Red switching teams?

Buffy stood watching the brunette for a few moments, then suddenly dropped down onto her bed.

"No you weren't. Were you?" she said quietly. "Willow told me that, when you were … in my body … you could tell that she and Tara were –"

"Gay?"

"I was going to say 'together'."

Faith shrugged,

"It was obvious from the way blondie looked at Red. I haven't seen your mom and Giles together, so I could be way off base, but the thing between them after they ate that candy had to come from somewhere, right?"

"Oh my god." Buffy raised a hand to her lips, "Bagels."

"That mean something to you, B? Because I'm flyin' blind."

"Giles … a couple of days ago he had … bagels … and then Mom did, too. And … ohmygod I ate my Mom and Giles' date food!" Buffy wailed, her voice rising.

Cool. Way to go, G-man. Faith spread her hands,

"What's the big, B?" she asked, "Can you think of a better guy for your Mom to hook up with?"

Buffy didn't answer, her gaze on the floor.

"Oh. I get it. Your dad."

"Yeah." The blonde's voice sounded very small. "If Mom is with Giles, it means my folks are never going to get back together."

"I don't want to sound harsh, B." Faith said gently, "But if your folks were going to get together again, it would have happened by now. Whatever was between them is over now. Not everyone can be like you and Angel."

Buffy's head snapped up.

"What do you mean?"

"Come on, B." Faith leaned forward, "You gotta know he still wants you."

"But I'm with Riley now." Buffy protested.

"Rebound guy?" Faith snorted. "Come on, B. I mean, he's obviously stuck on you, but could you have chosen anyone more obviously the anti-Angel?"

"What's that got to do with it?" Buffy asked defensively, "I just wanted to find a nice, normal guy for a change."

"Nice and normal? B, the guy is the Stepford wife of boyfriends." Seeing Buffy's blank look, Faith sighed, "We'll rent the video sometime. And don't tell me you don't still love Angel."

"It doesn't matter, Faith. Angel left me, not the other way around. Besides, a slayer and a vampire? It could never work out."

"Yeah, but –" Faith broke off in realisation. Oh Jesus, he never told her.

"But what?" Buffy demanded, "How is it ever going to work, Faith?"

"I guess it wouldn't." Faith shrugged, not looking at the blonde. In a sad kind of way, it made sense. Angel would want Buffy to be able to go on with her life. To be with other people without feeling like she was betraying him. So naturally he would never tell her about the prophecy. God, sometimes he's so self-sacrificing I just want to stake him.

For a moment, she thought Buffy had accepted her response. Then the blonde slayer said,

"There's something you're not telling me, isn't there?"

I could try to bluff it out. Faith sneaked a glance at Buffy's face, trying to judge the blonde's mood. Or maybe not.

"Yeah." She admitted. "And you probably shouldn't ask. If Angel thought you should know –"

"He would tell me himself?" Buffy folded her arms, "God, I hate it when he does that."

Faith rubbed her hands on her thighs,

"How did you know I knew something?" B never used to be able to read me like that.

"I…" Buffy paused. "I don't know. I just did. But have you noticed how that's been happening since you came back? Like last night, at Giles' place?"

"Yeah." Faith admitted. And it makes me damn uncomfortable.

"Do you think it has something to do with when we swapped bodies?"

"Maybe." Faith replied, "But I'm not much on the magical theory, B. That's more Red and Giles' turf. To be honest, the whole thing has me seriously wigged."

There was a moment of silence. Then Buffy cleared her throat,

"Did you, uh, just say 'wigged'?"

"I hope not." Faith buried her face in her hands. "But I think you'd better call Giles again."

The females named Faith and Buffy sat side by side on the couch, facing an older couple. The woman was seated in a chair, whilst the man named Giles stood just to her left. Hansard stood silently in a secluded corner, watching. He had simply followed the two girls inside when they came to this apartment. As he had promised the vampire 'Spike', none of the four displayed any inkling of his presence.

Humans. He had sensed magical wards on the building when he entered, but discounted them without a second thought. They would not detect one of his kind. Now, he turned his attention to the conversation between the four. The male was speaking,

"-fy, you said that you and Faith had some things you wished to discuss with your mother and I?"

"Yeah," said the blonde quietly, looking into the glass of juice she was holding.

"B." the brunette interrupted gently, "Can I?"

Buffy glanced at the other girl in surprise, then shook her head.

"No." She said, a small but grateful smile on her lips. "But thanks."

The brunette nodded in acceptance, then rubbed her hands on her thighs in what was fast becoming a familiar gesture of nervousness. Hansard catalogued this fact in his mind for passing on to Spike.

"Mom …" the blonde said diffidently, "Faith and I … we're sorry we didn't tell you what was going on. I'm sorry. We were going to tell you, but things got pretty crazy last night –"

"It's okay, Buffy." The woman who was evidently her mother broke in, "Rupert explained to me what happened last night. I do wish you had told me, but I understand why you didn't. And I have to admit that you aren't the only one who has been keeping secrets."

"You mean about you and Giles being an item?" Buffy smiled slightly at the older couple's startled expressions, "Oh I've known about that for positively minutes."

"How?" Giles asked in a slightly strangled voice. Hansard suppressed the urge to sigh at human foolishness. As if it wasn't painfully obvious from the protective way the man was hovering beside the woman.

"Well …" Buffy blushed, "Faith told me, actually."

"Faith?" the older woman stared at the dark-haired girl in surprise.

The one named Faith grinned in a lazy, self-satisfied way.

"It was pretty obvious, guys. You had the sparks going every time I saw you together. Kinda like B when she was with –" she stopped suddenly.

This time Hansard did sigh. It was safe enough to do so, and the pathetic romances of humans really were extremely tiresome.

There was an uncomfortable silence for a few moments, and then the older woman spoke again,

"Since you already know that Giles and I are seeing one another, I suppose I should tell you that he will be renting the spare room at home when his lease here expires."

Buffy, who had been in the midst of sipping her drink, choked suddenly, juice splashing on her cheeks and chin.

Wordlessly, Giles offered her a handkerchief, and the blonde wiped her face hurriedly, her eyes wide and slightly shocked.

"He's moving in?" she squeaked at last, as the brunette beside her tried; not too hard; to conceal the broad smirk on her face.

"To the spare room." Giles reminded her. "This apartment has become somewhat of a financial burden, and Joyce was thinking about getting a lodger anyway."

"And it will nice to have some company." Buffy's mother admitted, "the house seems pretty empty now that you are back at college."

"But what will we do about Scooby meetings?" Buffy frowned, "We won't have a place –"

"What's wrong with the house?" Joyce interrupted. "I know you mean well when you shield me from what happens in your life, Buffy, but I'd really prefer that you didn't. In some ways, not knowing can be just as bad."

"Sounds like a sweet deal to me, B." Faith told the blonde, "Giles' place is cosy, but it ain't much for catering. Your mom keeps a killer fridge."

Buffy smiled is a resigned fashion,

"Who am I to argue with logic like that?" she asked rhetorically, "Heck … if you guys need any help with moving, let us know."

"Yeah." Faith grinned, "Our slayer powers also offer us a great career as furniture removalists."

"Quite." Giles agreed, not entirely enthusiastically. "Now Buffy, on the phone you said something about a strange … connection … that seemed to have formed between you and Faith?"

"Connection?" Joyce asked, her expression worried.

"We're not sure what it is, exactly." Buffy said, with a slight shrug.

"You remember last night, Giles?" Faith asked, "When we seemed to know what each other was going to say?"

"Yes." Giles said dryly, "I seem to remember something of the sort."

"Well it keeps happening." Faith looked worried, "Not all the time, but … now and then –"

"Intermittently?" Giles suggested.

"Yeah." Faith flashed a quick grin at the man, "And that's not all. Earlier I said 'wigged'."

"What's the matter with that?" Joyce asked in surprise, "Buffy and Willow say it all the time."

"Faith never says 'wigged'." Buffy explained, "It would be like me saying 'five by five' –"

"Only much dorkier." Faith grumbled, earning a playful punch from the blonde.

"So you're thinking you may have some sort of telepathic bond?" Giles said thoughtfully, moving to his bookshelf and scanning the titles.

"Not that strong." Buffy clarified, "I don't hear Faith's thoughts. Not most of the time, at least. But I can sense things about her mood –"

"And sometimes we do hear thoughts." Faith interjected, "Or at least, I think I did, earlier today."

"Interesting." Giles pulled a book from the shelf, considered the front cover for a few moments, then put it back in its place. "Have you had any similar experiences to Faith, Buffy? Using words that you normally wouldn't, that sort of thing?"

Buffy frowned in thought, then nodded suddenly,

"Just before I killed those four newborn vamps. I referred of myself as 'B'. I don't remember ever doing that before."

"Well we already knew that there was some sort of bond between you." Giles mused, "There was that dream you shared just before graduation, for instance."

"And we both had bad dreams last night." Buffy said thoughtfully.

"Really?" Giles pushed his glasses back onto the bridge of his nose, "Do you remember what you dreamed about?"

"The usual. Vampires and monsters. But I don't remember much of it."

"Faith?" Giles addressed the brunette girl, who hadn't answered. She glanced up at him and swallowed, then said in a small voice:

"Prison." There was a note of pain in her voice.

"We were thinking it might have something to do with when we swapped bodies." Buffy said, evidently deciding that any subject was better than lingering on Faith's dream.

"Possibly." Giles did not sound very confident, "But this is not the first time you have seen one another since then. Did you experience anything similar when you were in Los Angeles, Buffy?"

"No." the blonde answered, her expression slightly melancholy.

"Faith?"

"Nothing." the brunette shook her head.

"It doesn't seem very likely, then." Giles rubbed his chin, then snapped his fingers suddenly, "Of course! I think I have it!"

"So fill us in already, Giles." Buffy leaned forward.

"When you fought Adam, you drew on the power of the slayer throughout the ages." Giles enthused, "All the way down from the first … to the current holder of the powers."

"I don't get it." Faith admitted.

"I do." Buffy looked thoughtful, "You're saying that, when we cast the spell, we tapped into Faith's powers –"

"And the link that already existed between you was somehow strengthened. I did warn you that the spell could have serious repercussions, remember."

"I had hoped that visit from the first slayer would be enough." Buffy said dryly, "But why didn't we notice the connection before this?"

"It could be linked to your proximity." Giles suggested, "So whilst Faith was in Los Angeles and you were here, it was basically inert."

"So if you tapped into my powers to kill Adam, that means I helped defeat him." The brunette was apparently a few steps behind the rest of the conversation, "That's pretty cool!"

The blonde smiled,

"Thanks for the assist, Faith. I couldn't have done it without you."

"Cute. Stealing my line." The brunette grinned, then abruptly grew more serious, "Giles … could the link between us just have been less obvious when I was in LA? Not, uh … 'inert' … but more subtle?"

"It's possible." The man agreed, "Although this is all conjecture, remember."

"Well here's some conjecture for you." The brunette appeared torn between anger and fear. "What if I'm still the same psycho I always was, and it's just Buffy's connection with me that makes me seem okay now? What then?"

For several seconds, no-one seemed to have an answer, and then the blonde gently laid a hand on the arm of the brunette.

"That isn't what's happening." She insisted, "You gave your confession to the police long before we cast the spell. That was when you began to reform. That was you, not anybody else."

"Maybe." The brunette appeared unconvinced.

Hansard observed silently. As usual, the humans saw little and understood less.

The phone rang, breaking another uncomfortable silence that had arisen between the humans. The older woman, Joyce, answered it on the second ring.

"Hello? Oh, hello Willow. No, you dialled Giles' number. I'll just get him for you."

The woman passed the handset to the man and returned to her seat.

"We were talking. Buffy and Faith are also here." The man said in patient tones. "Yes, they seem to be. What did you call about? Oh. Is she all right? Good. Just a moment."

Giles turned to the others in the room,

"Willow spoke to Angel. It seems that Spike was probably in Los Angeles last night. Angel thought we should know. He told Willow that the most likely reason for Spike to be in town would be recruitment."

"Spike's not exactly a polite guest." Buffy said, "There's a good chance he left a trail. Can you ask Willow to try and get into the LAPD case files? See if anything odd came up last night? Maybe we can trace his movements."

"Good idea." Giles relayed the request. "Yes, two o'clock. I don't know. See you then."

He hung up.

"Willow said she would bring anything they found to the meeting." He explained, "She asked if you would be there, Joyce."

"No, I need to be at the gallery then." The woman answered, "In fact, I really ought to be there now." She rose and picked up her bag, then kissed Giles a little awkwardly, obviously unsettled by her daughter's presence.

Hansard moved so that he was beside the front door as the humans said their goodbyes. He would need to report this to Spike immediately. There would be plenty of time to return for the meeting in the afternoon.

As Giles opened the door, Hansard slipped out, heading directly for the vampire's lair.

Spike's good mood had evaporated.

"When was the last time anyone saw him?" he demanded of the female vampire who had brought him the news.

The female cringed, a sight that usually would have pleased Spike, but now just irritated him.

"Thomas went out at sundown, as instructed." She whined, "He has not been seen since."

Spike swore. Thomas was smart, and careful. That was why he had been chosen to keep the nightly watch on the slayer. If he hadn't returned, it could only be bad news. He's probably dust. There was a small chance that Thomas had simply been caught too far from the lair to return before sunrise, but Sunnydale's extensive sewer-system made that unlikely.

"Fetch Aleister." He snapped, "Tell him I have the item he needed."

The female scurried to do as instructed.

"They fear you." The dead voice came from about ten feet behind him, and Spike was forced to bite down on a cry of surprise.

"So they bloody should." He answered, turning to face Hansard. "Didn't expect you back so soon. Slayer too much for you?"

"Quite the opposite. Watching her is childishly easy." The reply was flat and unemotional, despite the obvious baiting of Spike's remark. "I have news that I thought you should receive immediately."

"Yeah?" Spike lit a cigarette, confident that anything so urgent could not be good news.

"There are two slayers. The second one is named 'Faith'."

"Old news, mate." Spike smirked, "But we don't need to worry about her. The two of 'em hate one another, and she's locked up in LA, anyway."

"Incorrect." Hansard responded calmly, "Faith is in Sunnydale. She and the other slayer have reconciled their differences."

Spike swore. I just can't catch a break.

"Great." He muttered, "Two slayers. As if one wasn't bad enough."

"They have weaknesses. Both allow emotion to influence them. And the one named Faith lacks self-confidence."

"Yeah, thanks for that." Spike said sarcastically, "Got any other news for me?"

"Someone called Angel has warned them that you were in Los Angeles last night. They have begun to try and trace your movements. Whatever you are looking for, I recommend that you find it soon."

Spike spat out the half-finished cigarette.

"Shit. How did that son of a bitch find out?" he paused, and his eyes narrowed, "And how did you know I was looking for something?"

"You purchased the eyes of a Taladar from Mr Wurth. Taladarm eyes have only one mystical value: the location of objects through magic."

"You're bloody well informed." Spike admitted grudgingly, "Are you up to lending a hand with the spell? I'll put in an extra five thousand."

The strange, dead-voiced man shook his head.

"I have an extensive understanding of mystical matters." He acknowledged, "But the laws of our people prohibit us from employing your magic."

"You're telling me you do that disappearing act of yours without magic?" Spike didn't bother to conceal his disbelief.

"We have our own rituals." Hansard clarified, "They are very different from yours."

Spike shrugged. The offer had been a whim, nothing more.

"Right. That all you got for me?"

"All that was urgent." Hansard replied, "The rest can wait. I shall return to observing the slayer now, unless you have other instructions."

"Go ahead." Spike could hear the approach of a lone vampire. Aleister.

Hansard paused,

"If I may inquire," he said, "what is it you seek?"

For a moment, Spike considered his answer. Then he shrugged. It'll all be in the open soon enough.

"The Gem of Fey'R. I think it's somewhere in Sunnydale."

For a moment, he almost thought he saw a reaction in the other man's face, but Hansard's voice was as emotionless as ever when he replied,

"You realise that if you do find the Gem, this town will become a magnet for every Jeneth demon in the mortal world?"

Spike smirked,

"I'm counting on it, mate."