I am seriously considering chaining my muse to my laptop so she can't take off on me again. Could be tricky, though. She's married to my poltergeist, and he could make things difficult if I resort to drastic measures with her.

Now, then, where were we before freakishly long essays and unruly muses so rudely interrupted? Ah, yes. Alternate "Enemies", and the Mayor just told Faith about his plans for Angel. Now fast forward until after she's killed the horned, bald demon bloke.

Faith felt strange. Dazed. She wanted to wash the blood off her hands—wanted to scrub until the skin was raw and red, but she couldn't. Not yet. It was part of the plan she'd worked out. But then, did she really want to wash it off? At a second glance, the sight of it made her feel powerful. It was proof that she had been stronger than her opponent. And what did it matter, anyway? It was just demon blood. Killing demons was what she was born to do, so that's what she had done. What difference did it make whose orders she did it on? And why was she even thinking about that now? She was about to do what she'd wanted to do for months. Angel. Never had she been more willing to follow orders. Sure, the point was to get him to lose his soul, but she was more than a little curious about meeting Angelus. Somehow, she thought he'd be a lot less preachy and a lot more fun. And she'd be able to take Saint Buffy down a few pegs while she was at it. Steal her man and add bonus injury to insult by bringing back her worst enemy all in one stroke. There was no part of this plan she didn't love. Maybe she wasn't completely down with the Mayor's intentions, but as far as she was concerned, all he was doing was giving her what she wanted. Lots of what she wanted.

Faith had been to the door of Angel's apartment when she went with Buffy to get him for patrol on those rare occasions that he hadn't found them first. She'd caught a brief glimpse of the inside, too, and she didn't understand why he wanted to stay in that gloomy little basement when he had that huge mansion. Maybe he was just "Spartan", or whatever, like her. But, hell, Spartan or not, if she had a choice like that, she'd take the upgrade—she had taken the upgrade, in fact. Definitely not a decision she'd be regretting any time soon, either.

When she reached the place, she pressed her ear against the door for a few seconds. This obviously wouldn't work if Buffy was inside. She couldn't hear a sound, though, so she quietly turned the knob and pushed the door open.

He was there, reading. He saw her, and she dragged back that horror she had felt the first time she looked at the blood on her hands, letting it fill her expression with fear and uncertainty. He was sympathetic, gentle, like she knew he would be. Part of her believed what she was saying to him—the part that wanted him to pull her back, to help her, make her stop. But that part wanted comfort too, and so did not stop her when she began her seduction. She sat beside him on the sofa and he hugged her when she threw her arms around him hysterically. The rest was pure instinct, and how would he be able to resist this opportunity to take advantage of her? She pulled slowly back, pressing her cheek against his all the way, until their lips were almost touching....

"Whoa," he said, and to her genuine surprise, he moved away. "Faith, I—look, I can be here for you, but not like that, alright? I'm with Buffy."

The disappointed longing of the lost, lonely little girl buried inside her was drowned almost immediately by the jealous anger of the hardened, selfish fighter she had been for so long, but she didn't allow any of it to show on her face. "Buffy, yeah," she said, looking away. "I didn't mean it like that." She looked back. "Maybe I did, but I wouldn't press it." Oh, yes she would—if it would work. "You love her, don't you?"

"I love her," he said, and the anger licked at Faith's insides like a flame to see the truth of those words so bright and tender in his eyes.

"Good for you," she said. "The two of you. You're lucky. We're friends?"

"We're friends."

"Then I'm lucky too."

[o]

Buffy couldn't keep the smile off her face as she walked the familiar route to Angel's apartment, her mind full of happy memories from last night's date. Lately, everything she did with him tended to leave her with warm fuzzies that lasted through the hours they had to be apart. It felt more and more like the heartache and anguish of the year before had healed as though they had never been. And tonight was going to be special. The thing she wanted to give him, which had cleaned out most of her savings and been much harder to find than she'd expected, was sitting in her pocket. She'd never given him a material possession before, and the anticipation was making her giddy.

She reached the outer door that led down to his basement apartment, but once she was through it, she saw that his door was already ajar. All kinds of horrible explanations occurred to her with every step she took down the stairs. Demons could have broken in and attacked him. Or maybe the Council had tracked him down and taken him away. Or he could be in there, so badly injured that he couldn't close the door behind him. She couldn't see any blood, though, or any demon bodies, or signs of a struggle, so maybe…but now, at the bottom of the stairs, she could hear voices. They were too low for her to understand, but she recognized them both immediately. Angel's, and Faith's.

Not really knowing why, Buffy crept as stealthily as possible to the door and cautiously peered in. What she saw seemed to drive an icy dagger through her heart. She couldn't actually see their lips from this angle, but it was obvious to her that there was kissing going on, that the amount of space between their bodies was negligible, and that he wasn't doing a thing to stop it. She felt the object in her pocket shift against her leg. Had she been a silly little girl for assuming so much? Had she been missing the signs all along? Could this have been going on behind her back for months, with the two of them laughing at her foolishness the whole time? Everything in her screamed no, but she couldn't deny what was before her eyes. A second later, Faith stepped away from him, and Buffy instinctively retreated from the doorway and melted into the deep shadows of the staircase. And not a moment too soon, for out came Faith. Buffy was surprised to see the furious expression on the other Slayer's face…could that scene have been something other than it seemed, then? She wanted to ask Angel, to scream, to demand the truth of him, but the possibility that it was all true true, that he and Faith….

Just when she had decided to take the coward's way out and flee, she heard his soft voice call her name. She looked up, startled, and realized that he must have seen her standing there when he came to shut the door. Darkness was no hindrance to his vision, after all. She felt cornered by his gaze, which was completely unfair; she wasn't the guilty one. The hopefully not guilty one.

"What's wrong?" he asked, moving forward. She tried to keep the same distance between them, but her back hit the wall before she had gone two steps. He stopped, looking even more concerned than before. "Buffy, what's wrong?" he repeated.

"You…F-Faith," she croaked, her vision blurring.

He stared at her in what looked like confusion for a second, and then the proverbial light bulb seemed to click on. His eyes widened and he shook his head. She wasn't even sure how it happened, but suddenly he was right there and his arms were around her. She couldn't stop herself from taking the comfort his embrace offered, even though a not-so-small part of her wanted to shove him away and forbid him from ever touching her again. Without a word, he led her inside the apartment and closed the door behind them. "Ask," he said.

She hadn't expected that, but did as he said. "Why was Faith here?"

"She killed a demon, and it reminded her of what happened with the Deputy Mayor." He looked troubled. "Maybe it was too soon for her to be out patrolling again. I talked to her, tried to help her, but it was almost like she had an ulterior motive. She came onto me—that might have been it, but I turned her down."

"And you thought a little kiss would be a good consolation prize?" asked Buffy in a cracked voice before she could stop herself. The hurt and confusion in her did not want to give up so easily.

"I didn't kiss her," said Angel calmly. "I don't want her. I love you, Buffy." He took both of her hands in his. "I've been yours since the first day I saw you, and I always will be."

"Really?" Her heart soared, until embarrassment brutally yanked it back down again. "I'm sorry," she mumbled to her toes. "I mean," she looked up and attempted a grateful, loving smile, but mostly only managed to look mortified, "I already knew all of that, but I still went all conclusion-jump-y on—" He interrupted her then with a kiss, and she could feel his amused grin against her lips. "…You," she finished weakly.

He moved in for another kiss. "Wait," she said, not nearly as firmly as she'd planned, but he obeyed anyway. "I, um, I've got something for you," she said. He tilted his head to the side in such an adorably puppy-like expression of curiosity that she almost forgot why she hadn't let him keep kissing her. Shaking herself mentally, she fished in her pocket and pulled out the silver ring to show him. "I know your old one is gone, so I thought—well, I have mine back, and…I tried to get one that looked as much as possible like the old one…."

She might have gone rambling on forever if she hadn't glanced up at his face. He was smiling and his eyes glistened with tears, just like the night on the docks when he gave her the ring she wore now. Wordlessly, he held out his left hand so she could slide the Claddagh ring on, heart pointing in.

Faith's failed seduction of Angel being staged at the apartment instead of the mansion makes it much harder for Buffy to slip away unnoticed. It's a logical alternative. ^_^