Narnia: Interlude

by Brenna's Urbangirl Projects

Buffy has returned from Narnia pregnant with Peter's child and her life will never be the same again.

10. Chapter 10: Doublemeat Palace

Chapter 10: Doublemeat Palace

January 15, 2002 – Tuesday

Summers Home

Buffy sat nestled among her friends, her brow furrowed in concern as they delved into the latest developments. The intensity of their conversation hung in the air, charged with a mixture of frustration and determination.

"I get Warren being a supervillainy type," Xander's voice broke through the tension, his tone laced with disbelief. "But I thought Jonathan completely learned that lesson. And I never even heard of this other guy."

Willow leaned forward, her eyes shining with a mix of apprehension and determination. "You should of seen their headquarters, it was like, the nerd natural habitat," she interjected, her words flowing with a hint of awe and unease.

Anya's voice cut in, sharp and direct as always, her concern palpable. "We know where they are? Shouldn't we do something?" she questioned; her gaze fixed on Buffy.

"Faith and I tried," Buffy responded somberly, her voice carrying the weight of past battles and missed opportunities. "But they were long gone. We brought back what was left."

"Spell books and parchments," Willow added, her tone tinged with regret as she recounted their findings. "Couple rare things, charmed objects. And a conjuror's flute. Amy had one of those, but I never did—" She halted abruptly, a flicker of discomfort crossing her features. "Which is good - never gonna need that. Plus, there were, you know, razor scooters and pictures of the Vulcan woman on Enterprise."

"Ooh," Xander's eyes lit up with a spark of enthusiasm at the mention of the actress who portrayed T'Pol. Then, as if catching himself in the act of revealing his inner fanboy, he quickly shifted gears. "I mean, pff, nerds."

Anya, never one to miss an opportunity to voice her unique perspective, jumped into the conversation with her trademark blunt honesty. "Okay, ya know what? This is why demons are better than people," she declared, her tone laced with a mix of exasperation and conviction.

Buffy couldn't help but roll her eyes at the unexpected turn the conversation had taken. "Interesting turn," she remarked dryly, her voice tinged with amusement.

"When I was a vengeance demon, I caused pain and mayhem, certainly, but I put in a very full day's work doing it! And I got compensated appropriately!" Anya defended her previous occupation with a hint of nostalgia, her words carrying a faint trace of longing for the simplicity of her demon days.

Xander glanced at Buffy and Willow, a knowing look passing between them as they exchanged amused glances. "Welcome to today's episode of 'Go Money Go.' I hear it every day," he quipped, a hint of resignation in his tone.

"Right," Willow chimed in, nodding in agreement. "For the rest of your life." Her words hung in the air, a sobering reminder of the lingering consequences of their choices and actions.

Xander's reaction was palpable as he absorbed the truth in Willow's words, a flicker of realization dawning in his eyes as he grappled with the weight of his and Anya's impending wedding.

"But supervillains want reward without labor! To make things come easy. It's wrong! Without labor, there can be no payment and vice versa! The country cannot progress! Workers are the tools that shape America!" Anya's impassioned words echoed through the room, her conviction shining brightly as she stood firm in her beliefs.

"Good to know," Faith's voice cut through the intensity of the moment as she sauntered into the room, clad in a fast-food uniform that clashed spectacularly with her usual badass demeanor. The orange polyester adorned with cow spots and the matching orange paper hat seemed out of place on the usually fierce Slayer.

"Baby, you look ridiculous," Buffy couldn't help but tease gently, her gaze softening as she took in Faith's unconventional attire.

"I feel like a tool, babe," Faith responded with a wry grin, her eyes flickering down to the uniform as she shrugged in mock defeat.

"Faith, you don't have to do this," Buffy's voice was gentle, a mixture of concern and gratitude as she tenderly rubbed her pregnant belly. "I can get a job after I have my baby."

"I know, Buffy. But what kind of girlfriend would I be if I didn't help my girl out in her time of need?" Faith's response was unwavering, her words infused with a fierce loyalty and unwavering commitment to Buffy and their growing family. There was a quiet strength in her resolve, a testament to the depth of her love and devotion.

Buffy's heart swelled with emotion as she gazed at Faith, her eyes shimmering with unshed tears of gratitude. In that moment, she was overwhelmed by the enormity of Faith's sacrifice.

Doublemeat Palace

In the cramped and dingy office of the Doublemeat Palace, Faith, clad in her polyester uniform, sat alone, her expression a mix of resignation and determination as she watched the outdated orientation video. The flickering screen displayed scenes of the restaurant's exterior, complete with the drive-thru lane, accompanied by the upbeat voice of the narrator.

"You've seen us in your city or small town across the American west..." the narrator's voice filled the room, its cheeriness in stark contrast to the worn-out appearance of the footage. Faith couldn't help but notice the yellowed and dated-looking images flashing before her eyes.

"You've ordered our delicious food from our happy employees!" the narrator continued, the image shifting to reveal a smiling Doublemeat worker behind the counter, their hairstyle clearly belonging to a bygone era. Faith's lips twitched in a faint smirk at the incongruity of it all.

"But now, you're seeing it all in a new way! You're seeing it from behind the counter!" the narrator declared enthusiastically as the perspective shifted to show the view from behind the counter, capturing the bustling activity of customers. Faith sighed softly, steeling herself for the challenges that lay ahead.

"Because you've just become Part of the Doublemeat Experience!" the narrator continued, the words hanging in the air like a proclamation. Faith's gaze remained fixed on the screen, her mind racing with a mixture of apprehension and determination.

Suddenly, jarringly, the static images morphed into actual video clips, each frame showcasing either under- or over-lit employees looking uncomfortably staged and sounding painfully rehearsed:

"I'm a part of it!" declared a pimply teen, their voice tinged with a mix of excitement and uncertainty as they tried to muster enthusiasm for their newfound role.

"I'm a part of it!" echoed a housewife, her smile strained as she attempted to convey enthusiasm while balancing the demands of her daily life.

"I'm a part of it, too!" chimed in an elderly man, his voice carrying a hint of pride and defiance despite the weariness etched into his features.

The abrupt transition left Faith feeling disoriented, the artificiality of the scenes contrasting sharply with the reality of her surroundings. She exchanged a bemused glance with herself as she tried to make sense of the surreal spectacle unfolding before her.

Then, without warning, the screen abruptly shifted to close-ups of a cow and a chicken, their bewildered expressions captured in startling detail.

"This cow and this chicken don't know it yet, but they're destined to become part of it as well," the narrator intoned ominously, his words hanging in the air with an unsettling weight. Faith couldn't help but feel a shiver run down her spine at the eerie implications of the narrator's cryptic statement.

"So, what happens when a cow and a chicken get together?" the narrator posed the question with an air of ominous anticipation, leaving Faith to ponder the unsettling implications of the Doublemeat Experience.

In a tacky-looking special effect that seemed more fitting for a B-movie than a corporate training video, the cow and chicken swirled together in an almost surreal dance, their images merging seamlessly to be replaced by a still photo of a hamburger, ominously labeled as the Doublemeat Medley.

"Why, that's a Doublemeat Medley!" exclaimed the Narrator, his voice oozing with a bizarre blend of enthusiasm and detachment that sent a shiver down Faith's spine. The sudden shift in tone only added to the surreal nature of the experience, leaving Faith feeling increasingly uneasy.

"Let's take a look now at the process of 'harvesting' these two special meats," the Narrator continued, his words laced with a chilling sense of detachment as if the lives of the animals were nothing more than a commodity to be processed and consumed.

Faith blinked in disbelief at what she was witnessing on the screen, her mind struggling to reconcile the cheerful facade of the orientation video with the disturbing reality it depicted. The juxtaposition of the vibrant colors and upbeat music with the stark imagery of animal slaughter left her feeling nauseated and profoundly unsettled.

As the video continued to play, Faith couldn't shake the feeling of unease that gnawed at her insides.

"...washing your hands thoroughly after each visit to the restroom. Follow these rules and you'll be a happy part of the Doublemeat family for a long time!" the narrator finally concluded as the video ended, leaving a lingering sense of obligation and compliance in its wake.

Manny, the manager, stepped forward and with a flick of his hand, turned off the television, breaking the eerie silence that had settled over the room. "Interesting, isn't it?" he remarked, his voice carrying a note of curiosity as he glanced at Faith.

Faith looked up at him, taking in his appearance with a critical eye. She had pegged him to be in his thirties, a conclusion supported by the thick heavy-rimmed glasses perched on his nose and the name tag proudly declaring his title: "Manny Rocha: MANAGER," accompanied by a pin indicating his tenure of "10 years."

"Yeah," Faith replied with a hint of skepticism, her tone laden with understated sarcasm. "That's one way of putting it. Not the way I would've put it, but it is one way of putting it."

Manny regarded her with a serious expression, his brow furrowing slightly as he processed her response. "Okay... I'm Manny, the Manager. It's not a joke, it's just my name," he clarified, his tone tinged with a hint of frustration at the recurring misunderstanding.

Faith couldn't help but roll her eyes at his earnest explanation. "You mentioned that several times already," she remarked dryly, a flicker of amusement dancing in her eyes as she observed Manny's earnest attempt at establishing authority.

Absently, Manny sucked in his stomach and hoisted up his pants, a subconscious gesture of self-consciousness that betrayed a hint of discomfort beneath his professional demeanor. His eyes flicked over to Faith, curiosity gleaming behind his thick-rimmed glasses as he posed his question.

"Why do you want to work here, Faith? You seem like a sharp young woman, and there are a lot of other jobs," Manny inquired, his tone a mixture of genuine curiosity and a touch of skepticism.

"Well, my girl is pregnant, who is also supporting her younger sister. Well, I wanted to help her out," Faith replied honestly, her voice tinged with a sense of determination and responsibility that belied her tough exterior.

Manny's blank expression remained unchanged, leaving Faith to wonder if he truly understood the weight of her words. Sensing his confusion, she couldn't help but roll her eyes in exasperation before offering a more palatable response.

"I... want to be part of the Doublemeat experience?" Faith ventured tentatively; her tone laced with a hint of uncertainty as she searched for the right words to appease Manny's expectations.

Manny nodded, seemingly satisfied with Faith's revised answer. "You have motivation, don't you? You're a motivated worker," he observed, his tone carrying a note of approval as he assessed Faith's potential contribution to the team.

"I guess," Faith conceded with a shrug, her response tinged with a hint of resignation as she contemplated the reality of her situation.

"C'mon. Let's give you a tour," Manny suggested, breaking the tension with a warm smile as he motioned for Faith to follow him out of the cramped office and into the bustling back room, which doubled as the break room for the Doublemeat Palace staff.

Faith's gaze swept over the sparse surroundings of the break room, taking in the worn-out table, the outdated pay phone, and the row of battered lockers against one wall. Two employees sat at the lone table, their vacant stares fixed on imaginary points on the wall, their expressions betraying a sense of detachment as if they were lost in a daze.

Surveying the walls adorned with posters featuring idyllic scenes of nature – trees, sunsets, and forests – Faith couldn't help but feel a pang of unease at the juxtaposition of the serene imagery with the oppressive atmosphere of the room. Each poster bore a bold caption – "DEDICATION," "PRODUCTIVITY," "COOPERATION" – serving as a constant reminder of the expectations placed upon the Doublemeat Palace employees.

"You can take breaks in here. But if you're eating, do it out front," Manny's voice broke through the silence, his words punctuated by a hint of authority as he outlined the rules of the break room. "We want people to see we eat our food."

Faith couldn't suppress a skeptical roll of her eyes at Manny's directive. "So, I take it no outside food?" she quipped, her tone laced with sarcasm.

"No," Manny affirmed, his tone leaving no room for negotiation. "You'll be eating our food." He then turned his attention to the two employees seated at the table. "Phillip, Timothy, this is Faith. She's going to work the counter."

Timothy remained fixated on the poster; his gaze unwavering as he continued to stare blankly at the word "PRODUCTIVITY." Phillip, on the other hand, slowly redirected his focus to Manny, his eyes never once meeting Faith's.

"What happened to the other one? Catherine," Phillip inquired, his voice tinged with a hint of curiosity.

"Emily?" Manny corrected gently, his brow furrowing in concern.

"Yeah," Phillip affirmed, his gaze shifting uncomfortably.

Creepily, Timothy interjected without ever moving his eyes from the poster, his monotone voice cutting through the silence like a knife. "She's gone."

'Must have got out of here as quick as she could,' Faith thought to herself, a fleeting sense of empathy stirring within her as she considered the possibility of Emily's abrupt departure. 'If it hadn't been for the fact, I'm an ex-con, I wouldn't have settled for fast food, myself.'

Manny's movements drew Faith's attention away from her thoughts as he made his way to the wall of lockers, his actions methodical as he located an available one labeled "Vacant." "You can use this one," he informed Faith, his voice devoid of any hint of sentimentality.

Faith couldn't help but notice the presence of someone else's belongings inside the locker, a silent testament to the transitory nature of employment at the Doublemeat Palace. "There's someone's stuff," she pointed out to Manny, her tone tinged with a hint of curiosity.

"They must have left it," Manny replied matter-of-factly, his nonchalance bordering on indifference. "You can toss it or keep what you want. Don't worry about it."

"No skin off my back, I don't mind free clothes," Faith quipped with a smirk, her words betraying a hint of defiance as she contemplated the possibility of acquiring some unexpected perks from her new job.

"By the way, we all share this room, so put up a sign when you're changing. That's what a lady does," Manny instructed, his words carrying a subtle undertone of expectation as he emphasized the need for decorum in the shared space.

"I'm as far removed from being a lady as you can get," Faith declared defiantly, her words laced with a hint of rebellion as she rejected Manny's suggestion of conformity. "I have no problem if someone wants to see me in my underwear."

Manny regarded Faith with a measured gaze, his expression unreadable as he absorbed her bold assertion. After a moment of contemplation, he turned and gestured for Faith to follow him, leading her toward the back door where the time clock awaited.

"Watch these two," Manny instructed, nodding toward Phillip and Timothy as they sat motionless at the table. "Follow their example and you won't go wrong. They're lifers."

"Lifers?" Faith echoed, her brow furrowing in confusion as she tried to grasp the meaning behind Manny's cryptic term.

"In it for life. Like me," Manny clarified, his tone carrying a mixture of resignation and determination. "You want to get something out of this, Faith, you'll do the same. You put in the work and ten years from now, you'll be where I am, I promise you."

As they reached the time clock, Manny retrieved a time card and punched it with practiced efficiency before handing it to Faith. "Congratulations. You're on the clock," he announced, the weight of his words lingering in the air like a silent challenge to Faith's resolve.

0 – 0 – 0 – 0 – 0

Manny led Faith through the bustling kitchen, the air thick with the aroma of sizzling meat and the rhythmic clatter of kitchen utensils. "This is the kitchen. The beating heart of the Doublemeat Palace," he declared proudly, his voice filled with a sense of reverence for the culinary hub of the establishment.

Faith's eyes darted around the kitchen, taking in the flurry of activity as other employees worked diligently at their various kitchen duties. Her gaze lingered on the slicer, its sharp blade slicing effortlessly through pressed chicken meat, each cut precise and uniform. The repetitive motion of the machine was hypnotic, creating a mesmerizing rhythm that filled the air.

As Faith turned her attention to the drive-thru station, she overheard the employee taking an order, their voice strained with the pressure of the fast-paced environment. "...Medley Meal number two and double size it… and a shake…" they recited; their words punctuated by the occasional beep of the order console.

"Drive-thru station's over there," Manny remarked, following Faith's gaze and pointing towards the bustling area. "High-pressure job. You won't need to go in there. Over there's the grill, the fryers, the walk-in freezer — you don't need to go in there either — the dehydrated pickle storage—"

Faith's curiosity piqued as she glanced toward the cupboards beneath the food-prep tables. "What's in there?" she inquired; her tone tinged with intrigue.

"Those are locked. Now, I want to show you this. Look," Manny interrupted, his attention shifting to a wrapped Doublemeat Medley tucked under the heat lamp. With practiced ease, he unwrapped the package, revealing the infamous burger within.

"The Doublemeat Medley," Manny announced proudly, holding up the burger for Faith to see.

"Yeah, I recognize it from the video," Faith remarked casually, her tone betraying a hint of skepticism as she recalled the surreal images from the orientation video.

"A classic double-decker with a twist," Manny declared proudly, his voice brimming with enthusiasm as he presented the Doublemeat Medley to Faith. "A pure beefy patty above the mid-bun and a slice of processed chicken product below the mid-bun. Plus, pickles and the secret ingredient. Eat it," he urged, handing the hamburger over to Faith with a sense of ceremony.

"Free food," Faith remarked nonchalantly as she accepted the burger, her hunger outweighing any reservations she may have had about the mysterious concoction. With a shrug, she took a hearty bite, savoring the familiar flavors of fast food. "So, what's the secret ingredient?" she inquired between mouthfuls, her curiosity piqued by Manny's cryptic description of the burger.

"It's a meat process," Manny replied evasively, his response doing little to satisfy Faith's curiosity. With a knowing smile, he changed the subject, shifting the focus back to the task at hand. "Now I think it's time to start earning your money, don't you, Faith?" he suggested, his tone carrying a hint of expectation as he gestured toward the bustling kitchen around them.

The Magic Box

Buffy stood at the edge of the training area, her arms folded across her chest as she watched Dawn practice with a sword against a training dummy. The late afternoon sun cast long shadows across the courtyard, illuminating Dawn's determined expression as she wielded the blade with a mix of concentration and enthusiasm.

With each strike, Dawn's movements grew more fluid, her technique steadily improving under Buffy's watchful gaze. Buffy couldn't help but feel a swell of pride in her younger sister's progress, marveling at the resilience and determination that had become synonymous with Dawn's character.

As Dawn landed a particularly precise blow, Buffy's lips curved into a proud smile, her heart swelling with admiration for the young woman standing before her.

Doublemeat Palace

Faith leaned casually against the counter, her eyes following Gary's every move as he deftly handled the tasks of taking orders and assembling meals. She observed as he efficiently completed a transaction with an overweight customer, his movements quick and precise as he placed the money in the till and swiftly prepared the customer's order.

As Gary bustled about, Faith trailed behind him. "So, what's the deal with Manny the Manager?" she wondered aloud, her voice tinged with a hint of skepticism.

Gary didn't immediately respond to her question, instead, he handed Faith a drink cup and instructed her to fill it while he retrieved the fries. Faith glanced down at the cup, her lips curling into a mischievous grin. "Fill this? I didn't know there was gonna be drug-testing," she quipped, unable to resist the opportunity for a joke.

Gary chuckled at her remark, his smile genuine as he glanced over his shoulder while gathering the fries. "You're funny!" he complimented, his tone light and playful. But then, his expression turned serious, a hint of concern creeping into his voice. "You better stop that."

Surprised by his sudden change in demeanor, Faith furrowed her brow in confusion. "What? Why?" she questioned, her curiosity piqued by Gary's cryptic warning.

"Productivity," Gary replied solemnly, his tone carrying a weight of authority as he echoed one of Manny's oft-repeated watchwords. "'Levity is a time-thief that picks the pocket of the company.'"

Faith couldn't resist a smirk at Gary's nervous demeanor, her rebellious spirit refusing to be silenced by the oppressive atmosphere of the fast-food establishment. "I prefer the one that goes 'Manny's a humorless dolt that picks the pocket of he should bite me,'" she quipped once again, her tone dripping with sarcasm as she challenged the status quo.

Gary shot her a warning glance, his eyes darting around nervously as if afraid of being overheard. "You really better be quiet with that," he cautioned, his voice low and urgent.

As the completed order was handed off to the customer, Faith observed the exchange with a sense of detachment, her mind already moving on to the next interaction. An older lady, her obvious wig perched atop her head, stepped up to the counter, her request simple and straightforward.

"I'd like a small coffee and a cherry pie," the older lady stated, her voice soft yet determined.

"That's a dollar ninety-two, ma'am," Gary replied, his tone polite and professional as he rang up the order.

The older lady painstakingly counted out the change, her movements slow and deliberate. Faith couldn't help but admire Gary's calm demeanor as he patiently waited for the transaction to be completed.

"Have to admit, you make things look easy," Faith remarked, her voice tinged with genuine admiration as she observed Gary's efficiency.

"It is easy," Gary replied modestly, his confidence evident as he explained the simple process of operating the cash register. "Look, there's pictures of the food on the buttons. I hit the 'coffee' button, then I hit the 'small' button. Then 'cherry pie' — there's a picture of a little fried pie," he continued, his words punctuated by the sound of the cash register opening and closing. "Then I hit the 'total' button. Then I put the money in the drawer, close it, and it resets the system. A cocker spaniel could do it. Here, you take the next one, the family. They're regulars," he instructed, handing over the reins to Faith with a reassuring smile.

As Gary stepped aside to fulfill the older lady's order, Faith smoothly took his place behind the register, ready to assist the next customer in line. The older lady smiled at Faith with a warmth that bordered on intensity, her eyes holding a glimmer of familiarity.

"Hey," Faith greeted the older lady casually, her tone friendly yet detached.

"I come here every day," the older lady remarked, her voice tinged with a hint of nostalgia.

Faith couldn't help but roll her eyes at the older lady's admission, her skepticism evident in her response. "That's nice," she replied, her tone lacking any genuine interest.

"You might just make it, dear. Not like some of them, where suddenly you never see them again. I could see you being here a long time," the older lady commented cryptically, her words carrying a weight of wisdom born from years of observation.

As Gary returned with the coffee and cherry pie, the older lady graciously accepted the items and offered her thanks before making her way to a nearby table, her presence fading into the background of the bustling restaurant.

"Welcome to the Doublemeat Palace," Faith recited mechanically, her attention shifting to the next customer in line.

"Yeah," the father said, his voice tinged with impatience as he rattled off his order. "We need two number 4 Medley Meals, a junior Medley, a Fisherman's Medley with bacon, and a kid's meal. Plus, three fries, a chocolatey shake and extra pickles on one of the Medleys."

Faith's eyes scanned the array of buttons on the register, each adorned with pictures of food that appeared largely identical to one another. Despite the overwhelming number of options, Faith remained unfazed, her fingers poised to input the complex order with practiced efficiency.

0 – 0 – 0 – 0 – 0

Later during her break, Faith found a moment of solitude amid the bustling crowd of customers. Seated alone at a small table in the corner of the fast-food restaurant, she unwrapped a Doublemeat Medley, the familiar scent of greasy food mingling with the stale air of the establishment. With practiced movements, she took a bite of the burger, the taste oddly comforting in its familiarity.

As she chewed thoughtfully, Faith's gaze drifted aimlessly across the crowded dining area, her mind lost in a maze of swirling thoughts and emotions. The din of voices and the clatter of trays faded into the background as she retreated into her own world, her expression unreadable as she stared into space.

The minutes stretched on, marked only by the occasional sound of laughter or the soft hum of conversation. But for Faith, time seemed to stand still, suspended in the hazy limbo of her thoughts. In that fleeting moment of solitude, amid the chaos of the Doublemeat Palace, Faith found a fleeting sense of peace, a temporary respite from the relentless pace the day so far.

0 – 0 – 0 – 0 – 0

Faith navigated her way through the bustling kitchen, her footsteps echoing against the tiled floor as she made her way toward the time clock to clock back in from her break. As she neared the door to the walk-in freezer, a fleeting sense of curiosity tugged at her, prompting her to hesitate for a moment.

Glancing around to ensure that no one was watching, Faith quietly pushed open the door and peered inside, her eyes scanning the dimly lit interior. Stacked boxes filled the shelves, their contents shrouded in shadows.

Just as she closed the door behind her, she found Manny standing on the other side, his expression unreadable. "You don't need to be in there," he stated matter-of-factly, his tone carrying a hint of disapproval.

Faith shrugged nonchalantly; her demeanor unapologetic. "Just trying to get the lay of the land," she explained, her words laced with a touch of defiance. "You know, in case anyone ever asks me to get something. I can get it without asking for help."

Manny regarded her with a skeptical glance before simply stating, "There is little reason for anyone to ask you to get anything," his words carrying a subtle warning as he turned and walked away, leaving Faith to ponder the implications of his statement in the chilly silence of the freezer.

Later, amidst the monotony of her duties, Faith pushed a tray filled with food toward a waiting customer, her movements practiced and efficient. As the customer gratefully accepted the tray and walked away, a familiar group caught Faith's eye. Buffy, Dawn, Willow, Xander, and Anya stood together, their smiles warm and encouraging.

"Hey, Faith!" Dawn greeted enthusiastically, her voice cutting through the din of the restaurant.

Buffy leaned over the counter; her affection evident as she planted a quick kiss on Faith's cheek. "Hey, baby," she murmured, her words carrying a comforting reassurance.

"We were gonna all yell 'good luck on the new job,' but we don't have the timing that kind of thing requires," Xander quipped with a smirk, his tone laced with playful sarcasm.

"We're here to support your subsistence-level employment! Bravo," Anya chimed in, her words ringing with a strange blend of sincerity and bluntness.

Faith couldn't help but chuckle at Anya's candid remark, her gaze meeting the former vengeance demon with a mixture of amusement and appreciation. "Coming from you, Anya, all I can say is wow," she replied, her tone filled with genuine admiration for her unique brand of honesty.

Willow approached Dawn; her movements tentative as she sought to mend the rift that had formed between them. "Dawnie, you want a burger or anything? I could get you whatever you want," she offered, her voice gentle and conciliatory.

Dawn's response was polite but cool, her demeanor guarded as she declined Willow's offer. "That's okay," she replied, her tone tinged with a hint of aloofness. "I don't need anything. I'm just here for Faith." She cast a quick glance at Buffy before adding, "Get me a soda?"

"Sure," Buffy agreed readily, her tone masking any disappointment as she watched Dawn make her way toward a nearby table.

As Dawn walked away, Faith turned to Willow with a furrowed brow, her curiosity evident in her expression. "She's still holding a grudge?" she inquired, her voice tinged with concern.

Willow let out a sigh, her shoulders sagging under the weight of unresolved tension. "Yeah," she admitted with a hint of resignation. "I know she said we'd take it one day at a time. But it's been a week."

"I'll talk to her later, Will," Buffy interjected, her voice firm with determination as she vowed to address the lingering issue between Dawn and Willow.

"So, Faith, how's it going?" Xander inquired, his voice breaking the silence that had settled over the group.

"It's going," Faith replied with a nonchalant shrug, her tone betraying a hint of uncertainty. As she glanced around the table, she couldn't help but notice the distracted expression on Willow's face, the redhead absentmindedly drumming her fingers against the tabletop. "Red? You okay?" Faith asked, her concern evident in her voice as she addressed Willow directly.

Willow blinked, momentarily snapping out of her reverie. "Oh, sorry, just... I thought I was listening," she admitted sheepishly, her gaze darting between her friends. "Is something wrong?"

Faith hesitated for a moment before leaning forward, her voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. "Now that you mention it," she began, her eyes darting around the room as if to ensure no one was eavesdropping. "The manager guy who runs this place is all secretive. There's this secret ingredient that no one seems to know what it is. And then there's the people that work here. They're strange. Even for me, that's saying something. They sort of... stare into space, plus they disappear..."

"Disappear poof?" Anya interjected; her curiosity piqued by Faith's cryptic description.

"I don't know," Faith admitted with a shrug, her expression reflecting her uncertainty as she reached for a bag hidden beneath the counter. Retrieving it, she handed it over to Buffy, who peered inside with a furrowed brow.

"Clothes?" Buffy remarked, her confusion evident as she inspected the contents of the bag.

"The locker I was given had that in it," Faith explained, her voice tinged with unease. "The manager was like I could keep it or toss it. That they weren't coming back for it. Which is weird. Who wouldn't come back for their clothes?" she questioned, the unsettling realization sinking in as she voiced her thoughts aloud.

"It's fast food," Xander asserted, his tone pragmatic as he attempted to rationalize the peculiarities Faith had observed. "I have swum in these murky waters, my friend. There is assorted creepiness, there is staring, there is the enthusiastic not-showing-up-at-all. I think you're seeing demons where there's just, life."

Faith turned to Xander; her expression thoughtful as she considered his words. "I didn't say 'demons.' I don't know how to describe it, Xan," she clarified, her voice tinged with uncertainty.

"You're getting a vibe?" Buffy offered; her brows furrowed in concern as she searched Faith's face for signs of distress.

"Something like that, B," Faith confirmed, her eyes scanning the room as if searching for invisible threads connecting the disparate pieces of the puzzle. "Then there's the manager."

"Isn't that him over there? Getting the pickles wet?" Anya interjected, her observation drawing everyone's attention to Manny, who was indeed engaged in an unusual activity.

Following Anya's gaze, the group turned to see Manny dumping dehydrated pickle chips into a fryer, his actions eliciting a collective furrow of confusion from the onlookers.

"Yeah, with the wing-tips," Xander confirmed, his voice laced with skepticism as he noted Manny's distinctive attire.

"And the glasses," Willow added, her eyes narrowing as she scrutinized Manny's appearance from across the room.

"You guys could be right, it could be nothing," Faith conceded, her tone reflecting a mixture of uncertainty and resignation. "Why don't I get you guys all something, on me."

"Make me hungry, why don't you?" Xander quipped with a grin, his playful banter breaking through the tension that had settled over the group. "How about one of those delicious Medley meals?"

"You got it, Xan," Faith replied with a smirk, her determination to lighten the mood evident as she made her way to retrieve the requested food. Glancing over her shoulder at Buffy, she sought input on Dawn's beverage choice. "What does Little D want to drink?"

"Dr. Pepper?" Buffy suggested, her voice tinged with uncertainty as she deferred to Dawn's usual preference.

Faith nodded in acknowledgment before continuing on her way to fulfill the order, her steps quick and purposeful as she navigated the crowded kitchen.

"She'll be fine when she settles into the routine," Xander reassured Buffy, his gaze shifting to meet hers as they shared a brief moment of solidarity.

"By ordering, I'm helping," Xander added with a hint of self-satisfaction, a small smile playing at the corners of his lips.

Buffy couldn't help but chuckle at Xander's candid admission, her amusement evident as she teased her friend. "And getting a free meal," she pointed out teasingly.

"Well, yeah," Xander admitted with a shrug, his grin widening as he accepted the playful ribbing from Buffy.

"Do you like this food, honey? Maybe we should have it at the reception," Anya suggested, her tone eager as she glanced at Xander, seeking validation for her idea.

"You're serving burgers?" Dawn piped up from where she sat at the nearby table, her interest piqued by the prospect.

"Well, time is getting very short," Anya explained, her voice tinged with a note of urgency. "After Willow did the, whoosh, instant engagement party, I got slack on the planning, 'cause I figured she'd help. But now that's all blown to hell."

"Standing right here. Standing right exactly here," Willow interjected, her gaze fixed on Anya as she shot her a pointed glare, her frustration evident in her expression.

"Sorry, didn't mean to tempt you," Anya offered a hasty apology before redirecting her attention to Xander. "Everyone's so delicate," she remarked with a hint of exasperation.

Returning her focus to the group, Anya continued, "Anyway, I still have to select the bridesmaid dresses, plus there's the out-of-town guests and the ones from the demon realm. You wouldn't believe how many of them are not letting us know either way."

"Talking about bridesmaids dresses," Buffy interjected, her voice tinged with excitement. "My OB/GYN said I'm going to be having a girl. Would it be possible to get me and her matching dresses?"

Anya's eyes lit up with enthusiasm at the prospect, her excitement palpable as she considered the idea. "It'll be a rush to get her fitted and everything since your due date is around a month before the wedding. But I think it would look adorable for you two to have matching dresses," she gushed, her mind already racing with ideas for coordinating the perfect ensembles for mother and daughter.

It was then that Faith returned with Xander's food and Dawn's drink, setting them down on the table with a flourish. "Here you go. One Medley Meal. Plus, I double sized your fries…" Faith announced as Xander eagerly tore into the burger, taking a nice big bite. "…and cut way back on the cat," she added with a mischievous twinkle in her eye.

"Kmmmph?" Xander mumbled through a mouthful of food, his expression a mixture of confusion and surprise as he glanced up at Faith.

"Faith's kidding," Buffy chimed in, her voice tinged with amusement as she exchanged a knowing glance with her girlfriend. "Probably," she added with a playful grin, unable to contain her laughter at Faith's impromptu joke.

Summers Home

"Dawn," Buffy said, stepping into the doorway of Dawn's room, her voice carrying the weight of unresolved tension. "We need to talk."

Dawn looked up from her desk where she had been doing her homework, her expression guarded. "About?"

"You and Willow," Buffy replied, her voice laced with concern, each word heavy with the burden of their fractured relationship. "How long are you going to let this rift last? It's been a week since you told her you would take it one day at a time. Isn't it time that you forgive her?"

Dawn sighed heavily, her gaze dropping to her arm, the physical reminder of the pain caused by Willow's unchecked magic addiction. "I want to, Buffy. But it's just hard."

"Well, you are the sister of the High Queen of Narnia," Buffy reminded her gently, her words tinged with a hint of pleading. "And even though we are not in Narnia, that still brings certain expectations. You need to forgive Willow."

"If this had happened before you went to Narnia, would you have forgiven her?" Dawn asked, her voice trembling with uncertainty, revealing the depth of her internal struggle.

"Yes, I would," Buffy said without hesitation, her tone firm, an unwavering resolve in her voice. "I'm not saying I wouldn't have been ticked off. But, yes, I would have forgiven her. You need to forgive her, Dawn. Not just for her, but for yourself. Keeping this grudge is not helping you any."

Dawn remained silent for a moment, wrestling with her emotions as memories of the past weeks flooded her mind. The pain of betrayal mingled with the desire for reconciliation, creating a tumultuous storm within her. "I know," she finally whispered, her voice barely audible, laden with the weight of her conflicted feelings. "But every time I look at my arm, I can't help but remember..."

Buffy crossed the room and sat beside her, placing a comforting hand on Dawn's shoulder. "I understand, Dawn. But holding onto this resentment won't erase what happened. It will only keep you trapped in the past, unable to move forward."

Tears welled up in Dawn's eyes as she struggled to articulate the turmoil consuming her. "I'm scared, Buffy. Scared that if I forgive her, it will happen again. Scared that I'll never be able to trust her the same way."

Buffy enveloped Dawn in a warm embrace, offering solace in her arms. "I know it's terrifying, but forgiveness isn't about forgetting or condoning what happened. It's about freeing yourself from the pain and giving yourself the chance to heal. Trust takes time to rebuild, but it's worth fighting for."

Doublemeat Palace

Faith stood with Gina, another cashier, surveying the sparse crowd of customers scattered throughout the dining area. "Slow night," Faith remarked, her observation met with a resounding silence from Gina, who seemed lost in her own thoughts. Concerned by Gina's distant demeanor, Faith gently touched her arm to draw her attention. "Gina?" she called out softly, hoping to rouse her from her reverie.

Slowly, almost hesitantly, Gina turned to face Faith, her movements sluggish as if she were moving through molasses rather than air. "Since it's slow, you think they'd let me take an extra break?" Faith inquired; her voice laced with a hint of hopeful anticipation.

"We're not allowed. Down time robs us all," Gina responded mechanically, her words devoid of emotion as she echoed the familiar mantra enforced by their manager.

Faith couldn't help but roll her eyes in exasperation at Gina's adherence to the rules. "Yeah, you're just parroting what Manny would say. But there is no one here!" she protested, gesturing to the empty restaurant around them in frustration.

"Sure, there is, look," Gina insisted, her gaze fixed on a figure standing at the register.

Curious, Faith followed Gina's line of sight and spotted Spike, the bleach-blond vampire, standing at the counter, his posture casual as he scrutinized the menu board above him. "Spike," Faith greeted him, her tone a mixture of surprise and amusement at the unexpected encounter.

"What's in the Doublemeat Nuggets?" Spike inquired, his expression one of genuine curiosity.

"No idea, Spike," Faith replied with a shrug, her expression reflecting the mystery surrounding the ingredients of the Doublemeat Nuggets. "They like to keep anything beyond the beef and chicken into their food a secret."

Spike nodded in understanding, his laughter subsiding as he regarded Faith with newfound interest. "Never pictured you for the kind that would work in a consumer service profession," he remarked, a hint of amusement lingering in his voice.

"I'm doing it to help out, B," Faith explained, her tone earnest as she reminded Spike of her motivations. "Or did you forget she's pregnant?"

"I didn't forget," Spike acknowledged, his gaze softening with empathy as he considered Buffy's situation. "Still, I would have thought you would have gotten a job as a bouncer at the Bronze or something."

Faith scoffed at the suggestion; her expression incredulous as she shook her head. "With the fact that I'm an ex-con, do you think the people at the Bronze would hire me?" she retorted. "I got this job because the manager didn't ask too many questions. Like did I kill people."

"Point taken," Spike conceded with a nod, acknowledging Faith's perspective.

"So, are you going to order something?" Faith inquired; her tone casual as she gestured towards the menu board.

Spike's gaze returned to the menu board, his brows furrowing slightly as he contemplated his options. "Give a bloke a chance for his eyes to adjust. Damn fluorescent lights. Plus, they make me look dead…" he remarked, though Faith remained impassive to his banter. "Some demons love 'em. The way they vibrate, makes their skin twitch. That the kind of demon you are, Slayer?"

Faith rolled her eyes at Spike's attempt to provoke a reaction. "I'm not a demon," she asserted firmly.

"Yet, as you just pointed out, you killed people," Spike reminded her, his tone laced with a hint of mockery.

"Yeah, well, I'm trying to put that behind me," Faith retorted, her expression reflecting her determination to move forward from her troubled past.

"That why you took this job?" Spike probed further, his eyes gleaming with curiosity. "Prove something to yourself? Or more importantly, prove yourself to Buffy?" He flashed her a knowing smile. "I saw you two back in November getting it on in that abandoned house. Never thought she swung that way."

Faith's jaw tightened at Spike's words, her expression darkening with a mixture of annoyance and frustration. She shot him a steely glare, her eyes narrowing as she resisted the urge to lash out in anger.

"Mind your own business, Spike," Faith retorted sharply, her tone clipped and cold. She shifted uncomfortably, a surge of resentment coursing through her veins at the intrusion into her personal life. Despite her efforts to maintain her composure, she couldn't shake the feeling of vulnerability that Spike's words had stirred within her.

Spike's words hung in the air, his gaze piercing as he observed the bustling activity around them in the Doublemeat Palace. "Hey, look, if you and Buffy want to shack up, who am I to say anything," he remarked casually, his attention momentarily diverted by the sight of someone tending to the grill. "In fact, I've been debating of recent trying to make amends to your girl."

Faith met Spike's gaze; her expression guarded yet curious. "You're not happy here," he observed, his voice carrying a note of genuine concern.

"You're right," Faith admitted with a sigh, her shoulders slumping slightly under the weight of her confession. "There are only two places I am happiest. One is with Buffy. The other is out there fighting your kind. But like I said, I am doing this to help Buffy out. With her baby on the way within the next month, she could use the extra money."

Spike nodded in understanding, his features softening with empathy. "Maybe so, but this still isn't you," he insisted gently. "Let me ask you something. When you first came to Sunnydale, how did you get by in that fleabag motel?"

A shadow passed over Faith's features as she recalled her tumultuous past. "When the Prof died, I, well, I took some of her money. That got me here. But when that ran out, well, I worked the streets," she confessed, her voice tinged with a hint of regret. "It surprises me I've never gotten an STD."

"See, you could be doing anything to make money that you wanted," Spike pointed out, his tone thoughtful.

"Yeah, I could do that again, but not only could that get me landed in jail again, but also could kill me," Faith countered, her voice tinged with resignation. "Look, Spike, I appreciate the concern. But I think I will stick with this as lousy as it is."

With a determined nod, Faith reaffirmed her commitment to her current path, despite the challenges it presented. Though Spike's words had stirred a flicker of doubt within her, she remained steadfast in her resolve to support Buffy and carve out a better future for herself, one step at a time.

January 30, 2002 – Wednesday

Doublemeat Palace

The next day dawned much like any other, Faith stood in line, just behind Phillip and Timothy, waiting her turn to punch the time clock. Despite the routine, a sense of déjà vu washed over her, prompting a casual remark to break the monotony. "Feels like I just left, ya know?" she quipped, a half-hearted attempt to lighten the mood.

Timothy turned slowly to look at her, his expression inscrutable. "You came back," he said matter-of-factly as he punched in his time.

"Yeah, I came back," Faith replied, her voice tinged with a hint of resignation, her gaze following Timothy as he walked away without a backward glance. She turned to the time clock and punched her card, the mechanical click echoing in the quiet corridor.

As she turned away from the time clock, she found herself face to face with Manny, his expression grave and eyes filled with concern.

"Gary's gone," Manny said solemnly, his words hanging heavy in the air.

"Gary? The counter guy that helped me out?" Faith's brows furrowed in confusion, trying to grasp the gravity of Manny's words. "What do you mean?"

"He didn't show up this morning," Manny explained, his voice edged with worry.

"But the shift is just starting," Faith exclaimed, a flicker of disbelief crossing her features as she glanced over her shoulder at the time clock, the digits coldly displaying 9:01 a.m.

"He was supposed to unlock early this morning," Manny said, his voice carrying a sense of urgency. "Didn't show. Pull his card."

Faith's brows furrowed in concern as she searched through the time cards until she found Gary's. With a sense of foreboding, she handed it to Manny, watching as he solemnly placed it in a box labeled 'Gone', joining a somber collection of other abandoned cards.

"He must just be late," Faith interjected, her voice wavering with uncertainty. "He didn't seem like he was going anywhere."

"I'm moving Timothy to counter," Manny announced, his tone decisive as he shifted his focus to reorganizing the day's tasks. "You're on grill."

"Me?" Faith's eyes widened in disbelief, her mind racing as she processed the unexpected assignment. Cooking had never been her forte, and the mere thought of operating a grill filled her with trepidation.

"I've been watching you," Manny reassured her, his voice gentle yet firm. "You're more capable than you realize."

"But I don't know how to grill," Faith confessed, her insecurities bubbling to the surface.

Manny's smile was warm, imbued with a quiet confidence that ignited a spark of determination within Faith. "Just think," he encouraged, his words infused with a sense of possibility. "This is the last day you'll ever be able to say that."

0 – 0 – 0 – 0 – 0

Faith and Phillip stood side by side at the grill, their movements synchronized as they navigated the assembly line of the Doublemeat Palace. Faith's gaze briefly flickered up to the big sign above the grill, its bold letters proclaiming, "You're Part of the Doublemeat Experience!"

Phillip spoke with a monotone voice, his attention fixated on the sizzling grill before him, his words devoid of enthusiasm. "You put the beef on the grill. You hit the button. Then it beeps. You flip the beef and hit this other button. Then it beeps. You put it on the bun. There's not a button for that. Then you put more beef on the grill."

"Repeat until insane," Faith quipped sarcastically, a wry smile playing at the corners of her lips as she echoed the monotony of their tasks.

"It eliminates variation. Every burger at every Doublemeat Palace is the same. People don't like variation," Phillip explained matter-of-factly, his hands moving with practiced efficiency as he loaded the grill with another set of beef patties before deftly hitting a button.

Faith and Phillip fell into a silence, the only sound the rhythmic sizzle of meat cooking on the grill. Faith broke the stillness, her voice cutting through the monotony of their surroundings. "What's the secret ingredient?" she asked, curiosity piqued by the mystery shrouding the infamous Doublemeat Palace.

"It's a meat process," Phillip replied cryptically, his tone offering no further insight into the enigma that surrounded the fast-food establishment's burgers.

"What does that mean?" Faith asked, her curiosity piqued by Phillip's cryptic response.

"It's a process. That they do to the meat," Phillip reiterated, his tone conveying a sense of finality that left Faith feeling frustrated and unsatisfied.

Faith couldn't help but roll her eyes in exasperation, realizing she wasn't going to find out what the secret ingredient truly was. The secrecy surrounding it only fueled her curiosity further, leaving her to wonder why such a mundane detail was shrouded in such mystery.

Just then, the shrill beep of the grill interrupted their conversation, and Phillip handed Faith the spatula, prompting her to flip the sizzling patties. "Guess we'll get kinda greasy," she remarked, resigned to the inevitability of their oily fate.

"Skin, hair, eyelashes, nostrils. Inside your ears," Phillip remarked, his gaze meeting Faith's with a disturbing intensity. "Wanna look inside my ears?"

Faith recoiled slightly, taken aback by Phillip's sudden shift in topic. "Why?" she asked, a hint of skepticism creeping into her voice.

"Once I noticed I couldn't hear and I went to this doctor and he said it was the grease," Phillip explained matter-of-factly, his words tinged with a touch of morbidity. "It made a plug. Now I have a kit. For ear cleaning. It has this bulb mechanism."

"Imagine that," Faith muttered under her breath, her eyes rolling once again as she returned her attention to the sizzling patties on the grill.

"Faith," Manny called out as he approached her, his voice cutting through the din of the bustling kitchen.

"Yeah, boss?" Faith responded, turning to face Manny with a mix of curiosity and apprehension.

"You're working a double-shift," Manny announced, his tone matter-of-fact as he delivered the news.

"What?" Faith exclaimed; her shock evident in her wide-eyed expression. "I do have other responsibilities, you know."

"You get paid for it," Manny reminded her, his voice tinged with a hint of authority. "Plus, an extra free Doublemeat Medley. Remember, eat it out front."

Faith's mind raced as she tried to process the sudden change in her schedule. "Um... what happened?" she inquired, her confusion mounting with each passing moment. "Why the double shift?"

"Gary never showed. And now one of my grinder guys is late too," Manny explained, a note of frustration creeping into his voice as he recounted the unexpected staffing issues plaguing the kitchen.

Before Faith could respond, Timothy approached, his arms laden with a heavy load of wrapped meat that he dropped onto the table with a resounding thunk. "New meat's here," he announced bluntly.

Xander's Apartment

"Hey, Xan," Faith's voice came through the phone, pressed to Xander's ear as he lounged on the sofa. "I'm having to work a double tonight. Can you check on B and Little D for me?"

"Sure, Faith," Xander replied, his tone warm with reassurance as he mentally noted the task. "I'll swing by right after I get off with you. So how is the job going?"

"Boring as you wouldn't believe. But that's not the point of why I am doing it," Faith responded, her voice tinged with a hint of frustration.

"Faith, Buffy doesn't expect you to work just to…" Xander began, his concern evident in his voice.

"I know what she wants, Xan. She's told me time and again that she could get a job after she's had her little girl," Faith admitted, her tone softening with introspection. "But, Xan, while I am doing it to help out with the money situation around the house, I am also doing it for me. I'm trying to put my past behind me."

Xander nodded in understanding, even though Faith couldn't see it. "I understand, Faith. By doing this, it's part of your redemptive arc."

"Exactly," Faith affirmed, a sense of determination underlying her words. In taking on the mundane yet necessary task of employment, she was not only contributing to her girlfriend's finances but also forging a path towards personal growth and redemption, one shift at a time.

"Alright, Faith, enjoy the rest of your shift as much as you can," Xander said with a sympathetic tone before twisting around to hang up the phone, his mind already shifting to his next task. "Ahn? That was Faith. She's working late, so I hafta go—"

But as he turned back around, a chill ran down his spine as he found himself face to face with Halfrek, a vengeance demon, her gaze piercing and intense, a billow of fog swirling ominously behind her. "Yack!" he cried out in startled surprise, stumbling backward in alarm.

Halfrek stared at Xander with unnerving intensity, her voice echoing with an ominous decree. "I have been called and vengeance shall I wreak! Cower, masculine one. Tremble as you face my wrath!"

Anya walked into the room, her attention absorbed in her notebook as she mulled over plans for a potluck, unaware of the looming danger. "Xander? I'm starting to think we should do this pot-luck style—"

"Honey?" Xander interjected, his voice trembling with urgency as he tried to draw Anya's attention to the imminent threat.

Anya finally looked up and caught sight of Halfrek, looming over the trembling Xander, her expression shifting from confusion to sheer terror. "Yeee!"

"Hello. I am here to tear this man apart. How many pieces do you wish?" Halfrek inquired, her tone chillingly matter-of-fact as she addressed Anya, her eyes gleaming with malevolent intent.

"Halfrek?" Anya said, her voice tinged with disbelief as she recognized the figure before her.

Halfrek's eyes widened in recognition as she took a closer look at Anya. "Anyanka?" she exclaimed; her surprise evident as she pulled Anya into a tight embrace.

"Hallie! I can't believe it!" Anya exclaimed, her excitement palpable as she returned the embrace, a wave of nostalgia washing over her at the unexpected reunion.

"You two... you know each other..." Xander interjected, his confusion growing as he observed the unexpected display of affection between the two women.

"Funny, Halfrek, I didn't summon you to kill Xander! I called to invite you to our wedding!" Anya exclaimed with a laugh, her voice brimming with amusement at the absurdity of the situation.

"You — Oh my. What an embarrassing mistake!" Halfrek exclaimed, joining in the laughter as she realized her blunder, the tension dissipating as the women shared a moment of shared amusement.

Xander, sensing his cue to exit the apartment, quickly got up and edged toward the front door, his discomfort evident. "Wow. Um... you guys clearly have catching up to do, so I'll... I'll be not in the apartment—" With that, he dashed out the door, closing it behind him in a hasty retreat from the unexpected reunion between Anya and Halfrek.

Doublemeat Palace

Faith opened the vacant lockers one by one, her curiosity piqued by the array of personal belongings left behind. As she sifted through the contents, a sinking feeling settled in the pit of her stomach. One locker was empty, devoid of any trace of its previous owner. Another contained only clothes and a purse, while yet another held nothing but garments. The final locker yielded a more ominous discovery – clothes and a wallet, abandoned without explanation. It dawned on Faith in that moment that these individuals hadn't simply quit their jobs; something sinister had befallen them, leaving behind a trail of unanswered questions and lingering unease.

Later, Faith found herself stationed at the french fry station, the rhythmic bubbling of the fryer filling the air. With practiced efficiency, she lowered a fry basket into the scalding oil, the sizzle of cooking fries mingling with the hum of the kitchen. As she prepared the orders for the customers, a sense of unease crept over her when she noticed the fryer beginning to bubble on its own accord.

Timothy, passing by, paused to observe the anomaly, offering a nonchalant explanation. "Sometimes it does that. They say bugs fall in there." He lingered for a moment before realizing his own duties. "Oh, I'm back. You can take your break now."

Faith nodded in acknowledgment, her gaze briefly flickering toward the front of the restaurant. Through the window, she spotted Spike, his presence both unexpected and oddly comforting. Their eyes met in a silent exchange, a shared understanding passing between them, before Faith turned away and made her way toward the back of the restaurant, removing her hat with a heavy sigh.

0 – 0 – 0 – 0 – 0

"What do you know about this place?" Faith asked, her voice laced with suspicion as she and Spike stood outside the back door of the fast food restaurant, their conversation veering into the realm of the mysterious and unsettling.

Spike raised an eyebrow, his curiosity piqued by Faith's inquiry. "Why?" he wondered, a hint of caution coloring his tone.

"Several of the 'Vacant' lockers, that Manny, the manager, said were people that had quit with no notice still had their possessions in them," Faith explained, her words carrying a weight of concern. "One had a woman's purse with her clothes, another had a man's wallet with his clothes."

Spike's expression hardened, a flicker of concern crossing his features as he absorbed the disturbing information. "I'll do some checking," he offered, his voice tinged with determination. "But off the top of my head, I don't know what would be going on."

Summers Home

"What do you want?" Buffy said, her gaze fixed on Amy, who stood nervously on the front porch, her presence an unwelcome intrusion into Buffy's already tumultuous life.

"I just wanted to see if Willow wanted the cage, you know the one I lived in when I was still a rat," Amy explained, her voice tinged with a mix of nostalgia and uncertainty, her eyes darting nervously under Buffy's scrutinizing stare.

"You want it? Really?" Buffy asked, her surprise evident as she considered Amy's unexpected request, her suspicion momentarily overshadowed by genuine curiosity.

"Well, you know, it's not much, but it's home. Or it was. I dunno, I guess it's stupid, but..." Amy trailed off, her voice faltering as she struggled to articulate the complex emotions swirling within her.

Buffy's glare intensified, suspicion and mistrust bubbling to the surface once more. "Empty your pockets," she commanded sternly, her tone leaving no room for argument. "You will get anything you brought back when you leave."

Amy sighed resignedly, recognizing the necessity of Buffy's precautionary measures. "I guess I deserve that after the last time you saw me," she admitted, her voice heavy with remorse as she reached into her pockets and handed over everything, she had brought with her.

"Willow is in her room," Buffy said, her voice tinged with resignation as she stepped aside to allow Amy to ascend the stairs, her footsteps echoing softly against the wooden steps.

"Buffy? Why did you let Amy even see Willow since she's partly responsible for what happened back in November," Dawn questioned, her gaze drifting downward to the faint scars marring her arm, a painful reminder of the events that had transpired months ago.

"You will notice I did take everything she had on her," Buffy retorted, her tone firm, a hint of defensiveness creeping into her voice. "I don't trust her either, Dawn. But we can't dictate who Willow can see or not see."

0 – 0 – 0 – 0 – 0

"Well, you know, it's not much, but it's home. Or it was. I dunno, I guess it's stupid, but..." Amy's voice trailed off as she glanced around Willow's room, her gaze lingering on the familiar surroundings that once provided solace during her time as a rat.

Willow softened at Amy's words, a flicker of empathy shining in her eyes as she regarded her former friend sitting before her. "It's not stupid," she interjected gently, reaching out to offer comfort. "You can have it, of course."

"Hey, I heard you've got this whole cold turkey thing going on. How's that going?" Amy inquired, shifting the conversation to a more practical topic, her concern evident as she sought to understand Willow's progress.

"It's good. Really good," Willow replied, her voice infused with determination. "It was hard there for a while. Frustrating, you know, having to do everything the slow way. It was like, is everything gonna take forever... forever?"

Amy nodded in understanding; her own struggles mirrored in Willow's words. "Yeah," she murmured softly, her gaze drifting to the floor as she contemplated the weight of time and change.

"But it's better now. I'm getting my focus back," Willow continued, a sense of optimism seeping into her tone as she spoke of her journey toward recovery, her eyes alight with newfound resolve.

"Mm. I can see that," Amy acknowledged with a thoughtful nod as she observed Willow's textbook lying open on the bed, the pages marked with colorful highlights that betrayed hours of diligent study.

Willow turned to look at the book, her gaze tracing the lines of text she had meticulously marked. "It's a pivotal page," she explained, a hint of pride lacing her words as she recognized the significance of her academic pursuits.

"So, this is it, huh? This is gonna be your life from now on?" Amy inquired, her tone tinged with uncertainty as she broached the subject of Willow's newfound dedication to sobriety.

"What? No," Willow replied, her voice firm with conviction. "I mean, yes, studying is a big part of my life right now, but it's not the only thing."

"But you're never gonna do it again," Amy pressed, her voice tinged with a hint of apprehension. "Ever. You're never gonna feel how it made you feel..."

Willow paused, her expression thoughtful as she considered Amy's words, her mind grappling with the complexities of her journey toward recovery. "Don't think that's the way to look at it," she responded finally, her voice gentle yet resolute.

Amy walked over to the cage she had spent the last few years in as a rat, her movements casual yet tinged with a sense of solemnity as she approached the relic of her past. She bent down to inspect it, her gaze lingering on the familiar bars and cramped confines that had once confined her to a life of solitude and captivity.

"Hey, Will. It's your birthday," she said offhandedly, her tone betraying the weight of memories and emotions that lingered within the confines of the small cage.

"Um, no, it's not. Although now that you mention it, Buffy's is next—" Willow began to reply, her words interrupted by a sudden sense of disorientation.

As Amy picked up the cage and headed toward the door, she uttered a single word, almost casually, yet pregnant with significance. "Potestas."

"Amy? Wh- Uhhhn." Willow gasped, her breath catching in her throat as her vision was consumed by a swirling darkness, tendrils of red electricity crackling at her fingertips. In that moment, she felt a surge of power coursing through her veins, a raw and primal force that she had long yearned for.

Amy smiled, her eyes glinting with satisfaction as she watched from the doorway, her lips curling into a knowing smirk. Willow's eyes widened in wonder as she tentatively reached out to touch a nearby vase. With a gasp, she felt the energy thrumming beneath her fingertips, the vase transforming before her eyes, unfurling like a blooming flower.

Stunned, Willow turned to a nearby lamp, her heart racing with exhilaration as she unleashed a torrent of flame with a mere touch before it vanished into thin air.

"What?" Willow exclaimed, her voice trembling with awe and disbelief as she struggled to process the magnitude of what had just occurred.

"It's a gift. It's magic and it didn't come from you. It came from me. Completely legal. Enjoy," Amy declared with a smirk, her tone dripping with satisfaction as she sauntered out the door, closing it behind her with a sense of finality.

Willow hardly noticed Amy's departure, her attention consumed by the newfound power coursing through her veins, her hands trembling as she stared in awe at the vase before her.

Doublemeat Palace

Faith sighed heavily, her frustration palpable as she surveyed the mess before her - the meat grinder, overflowing with its grisly contents, a task Manny had delegated to her with a grim sense of inevitability. As she approached, a glint of something caught her eye from beneath the corner of the table supporting the grinder. Intrigued, she bent down and reached under, her fingers wrapping around a small, cylindrical object.

Pulling it into the light, her breath hitched in her throat as she realized what she was holding - a human finger. The shock and disbelief washed over her in a wave of nausea, her mind struggling to comprehend the grisly discovery before her.

"What the heck," she muttered under her breath, her voice trembling with a mixture of horror and disbelief.

Faith hurried swiftly to Manny's office, her heart pounding with urgency as she approached him. Upon entering, she couldn't help but notice Manny hanging an inspirational poster on the wall, the juxtaposition of the mundane task with the gravity of her discovery unsettling her even further. Without hesitation, she held up the severed finger, her voice trembling with a mixture of shock and concern. "Boss, this was under the grinder."

Manny's eyes widened in horror as he took in the sight before him, his initial shock giving way to a palpable sense of unease. "Oh my God," he exclaimed, his voice filled with genuine alarm as he struggled to comprehend the implications of the grisly find.

"You wanna tell me what's going on?" Faith pressed, her tone firm and unwavering as she demanded answers.

"I'm not sure," Manny admitted, his voice tinged with uncertainty as he wrestled with the implications of Faith's discovery.

"Try again," Faith insisted, her gaze unwavering as she waited for a more satisfactory explanation.

"Well, there was an accident, maybe, six weeks ago, a grinder incident, but no one reported any unrecovered—" Manny began, his words faltering as he attempted to piece together the puzzle.

"This isn't six weeks old," Faith interjected, her voice cutting through his explanation with a sense of urgency. "This is fresh. Believe me, I know."

"It is?" Manny asked, his voice tinged with uncertainty as he struggled to make sense of the situation unfolding before him. "Oh, maybe Gary did come in this morning, or, I don't know, late last night. Maybe there was an accident and he got himself to the hospital—"

Faith's expression darkened as she shook her head, her suspicions deepening with each passing moment. "Yeah, something tells me he's not in the hospital," she interjected, her voice heavy with grim certainty. "Something tells me given where I found this that your employees are the secret ingredient."

Manny's eyes widened in shock at Faith's accusation, his mouth opening and closing wordlessly as he struggled to comprehend the gravity of her words. "Faith?" he finally managed, his voice trembling with a mixture of disbelief and concern. "I was hesitant to hire an ex-con, even though you had a retrial that supposedly proved your innocence. But now I am doubting my decision to hire you when you make accusations like that."

Faith's glare bore into Manny, her frustration and determination burning brightly in her eyes as she absorbed his words. Without a word, she turned on her heel and stormed out of the office, her resolve unshaken despite the threat of repercussions.

Making her way to the register, Faith wasted no time in seizing control of the P.A. system, her voice cutting through the air with an urgency that demanded attention. "Attention Doublemeat Customers," she announced, her tone commanding and unwavering. "I would be careful what you eat. I found a severed finger under the meat grinder."

The customers froze in shock, their eyes widening in horror as they exchanged nervous glances and cast wary glances at their half-eaten meals.

"Faith," Manny's voice rang out, filled with disbelief and anger. "What are you doing? I thought you were on the team! Your fired."

Summers Home

Buffy, Xander, and Dawn sat around the kitchen table engrossed in a game of cards when Faith burst into the room, her presence commanding immediate attention.

"…Go fish," Xander declared, his focus momentarily interrupted by Faith's sudden entrance.

Faith dropped a wrapped Doublemeat Medley onto the table with a thud, her expression grave as she turned to Buffy. "Where is Red?" she asked, her voice tinged with urgency.

"Upstairs, she's locked herself in her room," Buffy replied, concern etched into her features as she, Xander, and Dawn all laid their cards down, the game momentarily forgotten. "What's wrong, baby?"

"There is something wrong at the Doublemeat Palace. Really wrong," Faith exclaimed, her tone serious as she relayed her troubling discovery.

"Have you been demon-fighting? Is that why you smell funny?" Dawn interjected, her playful teasing punctuating the tense atmosphere.

"Dawn, not now," Buffy admonished gently, her attention focused on Faith. "She just smells like she's been working in a restaurant."

"I know," Dawn retorted, her tone teasing yet affectionate. "Are you saying I can't tease your girlfriend? Who I do like, remember?"

"Sorry," Buffy apologized to her sister, her concern evident as she redirected her attention to Faith. "What's wrong?" she asked again, her voice laced with apprehension.

"I found this near the grinder," Faith explained, her voice grave as she retrieved the object from her jacket pocket. With deliberate care, she unwrapped the napkin to reveal the severed finger nestled within. Placing it on the counter, she braced herself for the inevitable reaction.

"Ewww!" Dawn recoiled in disgust, her face contorted in a mixture of horror and fascination. Yet, her curiosity got the better of her as she leaned in closer, her voice tinged with morbid intrigue. "Whose is it?"

"I'm not certain," Faith admitted, her brow furrowed in thought. "There is one guy who was supposed to open this morning and he didn't show up. Might be his, don't know. But it made me think, given where I found it, that the secret ingredient could be… We need Red to analyze the burger to make sure I'm wrong and that it's not made of people."

"What?" Xander's voice was muffled by the last bite of burger in his mouth, his expression shifting from confusion to horror as he processed Faith's words. Swallowing hard, he stared at the empty wrapper before him, a wave of nausea washing over him. "People?"

"Xander!" Buffy exclaimed; her shock evident as she realized what had just transpired. "You ate it?"

"Well, Faith did hand me a burger, blah blah, five minutes later, oh by the way that's hot delicious human flesh!" Xander exclaimed, his tone a mix of disbelief and horror as he recounted the unsettling revelation.

"I wanted that analyzed by Red, Xan," Faith retorted, her frustration evident in her voice. "And I can't exactly go back and get another." She turned to Buffy, her expression pleading for understanding. "I was fired, babe, when I took it on myself to warn the customers of what they were potentially eating."

Willow entered the kitchen, her presence adding to the tension in the room as she appeared flustered and jittery. "Hey, Faith, I didn't hear you come home. I was just, I was reading for school. Highlighting."

Xander, still reeling from the shock of his recent meal, wiped his tongue with his shirttail. "Yeth. You jutht mithed the Humanburger."

Willow glanced around the kitchen, as she continued to fidget. "What're we doing? Let's jump right in. Did Xander say there was food?"

"No," Buffy replied, her voice tinged with solemnity. "Faith brought home a hamburger, that Xander ate, that might have contained pieces of people."

"Gah," Xander cried out in dismay, his voice echoing the shock and disgust he felt at the realization of what he had unwittingly consumed.

"Whoa. Bad," Willow chimed in, her expression mirroring Xander's horror as she processed the grim truth of the situation.

"Red, can you analyze the crumbs on the wrapper? Or do you need a whole hamburger to either confirm or disprove…" Faith interjected; her words laced with urgency as she motioned toward the severed finger she had discovered earlier.

"I... Yeah, I can, uh, I can get right on analyzing that. With science," Willow replied hesitantly, her voice betraying a hint of nervousness. "Not... I can use science." With a quick glance at Xander, she reached for a pencil on the table, her hand trembling as she grasped it tightly. But to her surprise, as she attempted to use her powers, the pencil drooped in her hand like a cooked noodle. Panic flickered in her eyes as she realized the extent of her weakness, quickly hiding the evidence of her failed attempt.

"You guys work on that," Buffy instructed, her tone resolute as she made a decision. "Faith and I are going back. It's after closing now, we can sneak around, see what we find."

"Cool! You go. We'll be good," Willow replied, her fidgeting betraying her unease as Buffy and Faith left the room.

Dawn, ever perceptive, noticed the unease radiating from Willow and couldn't help but voice her concern. "Are you all right?" she asked, her brow furrowing with worry.

"I'm just, I'm worried about Buffy and Faith," Willow replied quickly, her words a thinly veiled attempt to deflect suspicion. "They could be walking into anything."

Doublemeat Palace

The restaurant lay closed and shrouded in darkness, its once bustling interior now eerily silent. Chairs were stacked upon tables, their upward-pointing legs casting strange and elongated shadows across the floor. Buffy and Faith navigated through the dimly lit space with cautious steps, their senses on high alert.

"It's a good thing you knew how to pick locks," Buffy whispered to Faith, her voice barely above a hushed tone.

"Part of my misspent youth," Faith quipped back, a hint of amusement underlying her words. "I'll check the kitchen."

"Okay, I'll check the walk-in freezers and the back," Buffy responded, her movements purposeful as she made her way toward the rear of the restaurant. She pushed open the door to the freezer and stepped inside, the cold air biting at her skin as she left the door slightly ajar behind her.

Meanwhile, Faith made her way through the deserted kitchen, her gaze drawn to the gleaming blade of the meat slicer resting on the counter. She approached it cautiously, her fingers trailing lightly over the cold metal as she examined the intricate machinery of the slicer.

As Buffy emerged from the walk-in freezer, she caught sight of Faith moving toward the meat grinder. With a silent nod to herself, Buffy turned and headed into the back room, her senses alert for any sign of danger lurking in the shadows.

Faith's curiosity piqued, she leaned over the meat grinder, her gaze fixed intently on its depths as she peered into the darkened chute. Her head hovered precariously close to the opening, her senses attuned to any sign of movement or disturbance within the machine.

Suddenly, a sound behind her startled Faith, causing her to jump and spin around in one swift motion. But to her surprise, there was no one there, only the empty expanse of the deserted kitchen bathed in the dim glow of overhead lights. However, her keen eyes caught sight of a faint glimmer emanating from Manny's office.

"B? Are you in Manny's office?" Faith called out; her voice tinged with uncertainty.

"No," Buffy's distant reply echoed from the back room, prompting Faith to cautiously approach the source of the light.

As Faith moved toward the office, her foot caught on an unseen obstacle, causing her to stumble forward. With a quick recovery, she bent down to retrieve what had tripped her, her fingers closing around an unexpected object. Holding it up to the sparse light filtering into the room, Faith's eyes widened in shock and horror as she realized she was holding a severed ankle and foot, clad in a distinctive wing-tip shoe.

"Manny," Faith muttered grimly, her voice heavy with recognition as she pieced together the grim puzzle unfolding before her.

Magic Box

Willow's hands trembled as she carefully combined liquids in a beaker, her movements slow and deliberate. "Don't need magic. Don't need it, don't need it..." she repeated to herself in a whispered mantra, her voice laced with determination.

Unaware of Willow's internal struggle, Dawn said to Xander, her attention momentarily diverted from the tense atmosphere in the room. "My friend Janice? Her sister's a lawyer."

"You think I should sue over the burger?" Xander mused aloud, his brow furrowing in contemplation. "That's interesting."

"No. I just mean, Buffy's never going to be a lawyer," Dawn clarified, her tone tinged with resignation. "Or a doctor. Anything big."

"Well, that isn't entirely true now, is it?" Xander countered, his voice gentle yet firm. "She was a Queen for years in Narnia."

"That's Narnia though, Xander," Dawn retorted, her frustration evident. "Here in this world, she's a college dropout with a baby on the way."

"I see your point," Xander conceded, nodding thoughtfully. "But she could always go back to college. Especially if Faith continues to be the breadwinner. She could become those things."

Dawn's face lit up with hope as she entertained the idea of her sister returning to college while Faith supported them financially. She envisioned Buffy as a compassionate doctor, caring for patients in a hospital setting. "You're right," she agreed, a smile tugging at the corners of her lips.

"Hey, guys. I think I've got it!" Willow's voice broke through their conversation, drawing their attention back to the table where she was working.

Xander and Dawn eagerly approached Willow, their expressions filled with anticipation. "Good job, Will!" Xander praised her. "Now, these aren't, like, potions, are they?"

"No! No potions!" Willow snapped; her tone sharp with agitation before she quickly regained her composure. "It's not magic. It's chemistry. You can tell by how damn slow it is. I made a solution that reacts to the proteins in human blood. We're pretty close to knowing for certain." With trembling hands, she carefully prepared a microscope slide with a tiny speck of meat from the wrapper. However, her nerves got the best of her, causing her to fumble and drop the slide before hastily picking it up again.

As the tension in the room mounted, Anya burst through the front door, breathless and in a hurry. "I'm here! I'm here!" she announced.

"We're doing chemistry," Dawn explained to Anya, her voice tinged with worry as she observed Willow's shaky demeanor.

"Oh. I'm so sorry I hurried," Anya responded, her tone apologetic as she glanced over at Willow.

"Did your friend have a good time?" Xander inquired, joining Anya's side. "And then leave?"

"She's gone," Anya confirmed, her expression clouded with sadness.

"Hey, Ahn? The way she looked... with the... face... that wasn't what you... used to look like, was it?" Xander ventured cautiously, his voice filled with concern as they moved to a quieter corner of the room.

Meanwhile, Dawn turned her attention back to Willow, noticing the distress evident in her friend's troubled expression. "Willow, what's wrong?" she asked, her voice laced with concern as she approached her friend's side.

"Nothing," Willow replied softly, her gaze flickering briefly towards Dawn. As she caught the worried expression on the teenager's face, she released a weary sigh. "Magic, when Amy visited earlier. She infused me with magic."

"That's why you've been jittery," Dawn exclaimed, her realization dawning on her. "You're trying to keep from using what she gave you."

"Yes," Willow confirmed, her shoulders slumping slightly with the weight of her confession. She met Dawn's concerned gaze as the teen reached out and placed a comforting hand on her shoulder.

"I forgive you, Willow," Dawn declared, pulling the redhead into a tender embrace. "You had a problem; I get that now. And I am going to help you get better."

"Thanks, Dawnie," Willow murmured gratefully, offering a genuine smile to the teen. "Here, would you hold this for me?"

Dawn accepted the microscope slide from Willow, her eyes reflecting a mixture of determination and support.

"Now, if it reacts with the blood proteins, I'll be able to see it. I mean, I'll be able to look through the microscope and then I can see it," Willow explained, her voice tinged with a sense of hope as she resumed her scientific endeavor.

"So much suspense. It's like taking a pregnancy test," Dawn quipped, eliciting a chuckle from Willow.

"I guess it is, not that I've had to take one," Willow replied with a wry smile.

"Neither have I, thankfully. Right now, I am just happy to be the soon-to-be aunt," Dawn said, her tone filled with anticipation and joy.

Willow peered through the microscope, her eyes scanning the slide intently.

"What do you see?" Dawn inquired eagerly, leaning in closer.

"There's no reaction," Willow announced, her voice tinged with relief. "Which means it's not human."

"It's not human!" Xander exclaimed, having overheard Willow's revelation. His attention momentarily diverted from his discussion with Anya. "It's not human?"

"Is it demon meat? Maybe someone is killing demons and using them as a cheap source of meat. We've all heard of that," Anya speculated before redirecting her attention to Xander. "And, by the way, I disapprove of demon meat no matter how much money it saves. Does that surprise you?"

"Again, I say, huh?" Xander responded, turning to face Anya once more, clearly perplexed by her comment.

Meanwhile, Willow continued her examination through the microscope, her brow furrowing in concentration. "Hm."

"Demon meat?" Dawn inquired; her curiosity piqued.

"No... but... I'm not sure what I'm seeing. Cellulose?" Willow murmured, her gaze lifting from the microscope to meet Dawn's. "There's something weird here. Dawn, do you have your learner's permit with you?"

"Yeah," Dawn confirmed, reaching into her bag to retrieve her learner's permit

Doublemeat Palace

Faith, still gripping the foot, navigated her way back through the kitchen, her senses on high alert. It was then that she noticed a subtle movement out of the corner of her eye. "B?" she called out instinctively.

"In the office," Buffy's voice echoed back. "Did you find something?"

"No, just thought I saw something moving out here," Faith replied, her tone tinged with suspicion. She furrowed her brow as she spotted what appeared to be a human scalp lying on the counter. With a cautious hand, she reached out and touched it. "A wig."

As Faith's fingers grazed the synthetic strands, a sudden footstep sounded behind her, causing her to tense.

"Wig lady," Faith muttered under her breath, piecing together the identity of the mysterious figure. "B," she called out, turning to face who she assumed was her girlfriend. However, instead of Buffy, she was met with Wig Lady, now devoid of her disguise.

"Oh dear," Wig Lady exclaimed, a hint of dismay in her voice. "Wig lady? Is that what they call me? I don't care for that." Suddenly, a grey tube protruded from the top of the woman's head, resembling a lamprey's head. Faith's eyes widened in shock as the woman's eyes were sucked into their eye sockets. She realized that the woman's eyes were in reality those of the lamprey. "I mean, I have to do something to hide this."

The lamprey, still firmly attached to Wig Lady, lunged towards Faith with its tooth-lined mouth gaping open, inches from her face. In a sudden burst of movement, it sprayed her with a viscous liquid, causing Faith to recoil.

"Don't try to move, dear. You really can't, much," Wig Lady cautioned, her voice tinged with a mix of sympathy and control. Despite Faith's attempts to defend herself, the lamprey deftly dodged her punch with uncanny agility.

Desperation mounting, Faith tried to lash out with a kick, only to find her leg immobilized as if bound by invisible restraints. With a surge of determination, she strained against the invisible force, managing to take a slow and agonizing step backward. "B," she called out, her voice trembling with urgency as she turned towards the door, reaching out a hand in a desperate attempt to grasp anything that might aid her escape. Meanwhile, the lamprey drew closer, its predatory presence looming ominously behind her.

The lamprey inched closer to Faith, its movements predatory and deliberate, while Wig Lady continued to speak with unsettling nonchalance. "The paralysis spreads upwards, by the way. You may want to flail your arms while you still can. Did I tell you you're my favorite? Not you, personally. Nothing special about you. Doublemeat Workers."

Faith's heart pounded in her chest as she scanned the room, desperately searching for any sign of Buffy. Had the Wig Lady already incapacitated her, or was Buffy biding her time, waiting for the perfect moment to strike?

"You're all full of Doublemeat burgers, and you just slide down so smooth. And there's always more of you," Wig Lady remarked casually, her words dripping with a disturbing sense of satisfaction.

With a surge of relief, Faith spotted Buffy stealthily approaching from behind the Wig Lady. Locking eyes with Buffy, Faith subtly directed her gaze towards the glinting blade of the meat slicer resting on the counter nearby. Understanding the silent communication, Buffy nodded in acknowledgment, her expression determined as she prepared to spring into action.

0 – 0 – 0 – 0 – 0

Dawn parked the car next to Buffy's jeep, and together with Willow, they approached the darkened building. Willow tested the door, but it was locked tight. "Can you see anyone inside?" she asked Dawn.

Dawn shielded her eyes with her hands, trying to peer through the darkness into the interior. "No," she replied after a moment. "But that doesn't necessarily mean anything. They could be in the back where it's hard to spot them from the front door."

Understanding Dawn's point, Willow nodded in agreement. She rapped her knuckles against the door, hoping to catch Buffy or Faith's attention from within the building.

0 – 0 – 0 – 0 – 0

As Buffy cautiously advanced toward the meat-slicer, the Wig Lady taunted, "Only thing is, you tend to run away. And I've slowed down over the years…" She remained unaware of Buffy's presence, which was exactly how Buffy wanted it.

Meanwhile, Faith found herself face-to-face with the lamprey, its teeth mere inches from her eyes. She attempted to speak, to distract the Wig Lady, but her voice failed her.

Unfazed, the Wig Lady remarked, "Oh, the voice is gone, I see. I simply love the paralysis. It means I can eat you slowly. It's better for digestion."

Just as the tension escalated, Buffy sprang into action. "Faith, duck!" she shouted, delivering a swift roundhouse punch to the lamprey as Faith dropped to the ground. The force of Buffy's blow caused the lamprey to recoil.

Observing the sudden turn of events, the Wig Lady remarked coolly, "So, there are two of you here," as the lamprey redirected its attention toward Buffy.

Then, a crackle emanated from the drive-thru speaker, and Dawn's voice echoed through. "Buffy? Faith?" she called out. "I'm out here with Willow. Are you two still here? We can't see anything inside the store from the front."

As Willow's voice crackled through the drive-thru speaker, the tension inside the restaurant heightened. "Listen, if you're in there," she began, her tone urgent, "the burger isn't people. In fact, it isn't even meat. It's all processed vegetables. Isn't that weird? Buffy… Faith… there's more. Something happened today. I didn't do it. Amy did it. But I feel so bad about it…"

Dawn's voice followed, also emanating from the speaker, adding another layer of concern. "Willow told me about it," she said. "Amy gave Willow some of her power when she came by the house."

Willow continued; her voice laced with distress. "But it felt like I was doing the stuff myself. And I couldn't stop it. And now it's gone and I'm kinda shaky and it really feels like I need it."

Meanwhile, inside the restaurant, the Wig Lady seized Buffy with surprisingly strong hands, her gaze drifting down to Buffy's protruding belly. "Oh, nice. I get not one but three juicy meals," she remarked.

However, Buffy's attention was elsewhere. She spotted Faith, who managed to grip the meat slicer. With a determined effort, Faith wrenched it with all her weight, causing it to topple with a crash. It struck the meat grinder on its way down, inadvertently activating it with a low growl.

At that moment, Dawn's voice crackled through the speaker once more, filled with concern. "Buffy?" she called out. "We heard something fall. Are you and Faith alright?"

As the sound of shattering glass filled the air, Buffy, Faith, and the Wig Lady turned their attention towards the broken window. Dawn and Willow had climbed through, joining the fray.

The Wig Lady, now faced with four opponents, realized she was significantly outnumbered. Even though Faith remained paralyzed, the odds were no longer in her favor.

Seizing the opportunity while the Wig Lady was distracted, Buffy lunged for the slicer blade and swung it like a baseball bat, slicing through the lamprey where it was attached to the top of the lady's head. With a sickening thud, the lady's body collapsed to the floor, along with the grey, wet length of the lamprey.

"Dawn, Willow, check on Faith," Buffy ordered, her voice urgent as she directed her sister and best friend to tend to Faith's condition.

Willow and Dawn nodded in acknowledgment, rushing to Faith's side to provide assistance.

Meanwhile, Buffy's gaze shifted downward to the writhing lamprey on the floor. Even detached from the Wig Lady's body, the creature remained a threat, its circle of teeth gnashing dangerously close to Buffy.

Buffy acted swiftly, seized the nearest weapon available—a plastic knife—and thrust it into the writhing lamprey. The creature let out a shrill scream as Buffy grabbed hold of it, swiftly depositing the injured lamprey into the running meat grinder. The mechanical whirring drowned out the sounds of the creature's agony as it was ground into a gray, pulpy paste.

With the immediate threat neutralized, Willow and Dawn rushed to assist Faith, helping her to her feet. Dawn's concern was palpable as she looked between the two Slayers. "Buffy! Faith! Are you both okay?"

"Para... paralyzed," Faith managed to utter, her voice strained. "I think... it's wearing off."

"I'm fine," Buffy assured them, her gaze fixed on the grinder where the lamprey met its end.

Following Buffy's line of sight, Willow, Dawn, and Faith couldn't help but recoil in disgust. "Ewww," Buffy, Dawn and Willow echoed in unison, their expressions reflecting a mixture of horror and revulsion.

"I think I'm going to hurl," Faith muttered, her stomach churning at the sight of the ground-up lamprey.

January 31, 2002 – Thursday

Summers Home

Buffy reluctantly turned the handle of the front door, a sense of apprehension flooding her as she swung it open, only to be met with the sight of Amy standing on her doorstep, a forced smile plastered on her face.

"Hey," Amy greeted, her voice tinged with an awkward mixture of uncertainty and faux cheerfulness.

"Amy," Buffy responded tersely, her gaze fixed firmly on the unwelcome visitor, her expression a mix of frustration and distrust.

"Can I come in? My new place isn't set up yet, and I wanted to borrow some stuff, like, detergent—" Amy began, her words trailing off as she awaited Buffy's response, her eyes shifting nervously from Buffy's stern expression to the threshold behind her.

"You really can't," Buffy interjected firmly, her tone leaving no room for negotiation, her arms crossed defensively across her chest.

"I can't borrow detergent? Well, when they start calling me stinky Amy, I'll say, hey, not my fault—" Amy attempted to lighten the tension with a feeble attempt at humor, her voice faltering slightly as she realized the gravity of Buffy's stance.

"You are not welcome here, Amy," Buffy stated bluntly, her glare intensifying as she reiterated her lack of hospitality, her patience wearing thin in the face of Amy's persistence.

"What's up?" Amy's voice carried a hint of faux concern, her attempt at casualness failing to mask the underlying tension. "Don't tell me Willow didn't like her birthday present?" she continued, a smirk playing at the corners of her lips, oblivious to the gravity of her words.

"No, she didn't," Buffy responded curtly, a flicker of her former authority as the High Queen of Narnia slipping into her tone, a stark warning in her eyes as she held Amy's gaze with unyielding intensity. "If you come near this house again, I will call the cops," she declared, her voice cutting through the air like a blade, her resolve unwavering as she slammed the door shut, shutting Amy out with finality.

"Thanks," Willow's voice floated down the stairs behind Buffy, a mixture of relief and gratitude evident in her tone as she approached her friend. "She doesn't get it. That what she did to me was wrong. That she dosed me," she confided, her voice heavy with the weight of betrayal, her eyes pleading for understanding.

"I know, Will," Buffy said softly, turning to face her friend, a comforting hand resting on Willow's shoulder as they shared a moment of solidarity. "How are you doing?" she inquired, her concern etched into every word, her unwavering support a lifeline for her wounded friend.

"Because of her, I've taken a step back, but with yours, Dawn's, and Faith's help…" Willow trailed off, her voice tinged with determination as she acknowledged the support of her chosen family, finding strength in their unwavering solidarity.

Doublemeat Palace

Faith squared her shoulders as she approached the door of the office, her knuckles rapping against the wood in a firm, purposeful rhythm before she stepped inside. Her eyes fell upon a woman in her thirties, methodically removing the last remnants of the once-uplifting posters that adorned the walls.

"Hi, you must be the new manager. I'm Faith Lehane," Faith introduced herself, her voice carrying a hint of skepticism as she assessed the newcomer.

"I'm Lorraine Ross, the new manager," the woman replied, her tone a mixture of weariness and determination. "They called me in when Manny did his disappearing act. You hear about that? Guy just disappeared."

Faith nodded solemnly, memories of the restaurant's tumultuous history flashing through her mind. "Yeah, I think... I think that used to happen here a lot."

"Faith Lehane. I heard about you. Caused a big scene," Lorraine remarked, her tone tinged with a blend of curiosity and caution.

"Well, in my defense, I take the customer's safety of utmost precedent. When you find a finger lying next to the meat grinder," Faith explained, her voice tinged with a hint of dark humor as she recalled the grisly incident. "Well…"

"I understand. Sure, it made the restaurant look bad, but I would rather that be brought to their attention to avoid potential lawsuits if they found out than keeping it quiet," Lorraine interjected, her expression softening as she acknowledged Faith's perspective, a flicker of admiration in her eyes for Faith's commitment to transparency and accountability.

"Anyways, I just wanted to return my uniform. Sorry it's torn," Faith admitted, a sense of resignation evident in her voice as she handed over the damaged garment to Lorraine.

"Most people don't even bother," Lorraine remarked casually, accepting the uniform with a nonchalant shrug, her gaze flickering briefly over the tear before she tucked it away.

As Faith turned to leave, a sudden impulse seized her, prompting her to spin on her heel and face Lorraine once more. "The Doublemeat Medley is vegetables?"

Lorraine's eyebrows shot up in surprise at Faith's unexpected question. "How do you know that?"

"Well, I have a friend who is great in chemistry. I had it tested after I found the finger," Faith confessed, a hint of defiance creeping into her tone as she recalled the unsettling discovery. "I just wanted to make sure you know that customers weren't eating ground up people before I did anything rash."

Lorraine's expression softened, a glimmer of understanding dawning in her eyes as she absorbed Faith's words. With a solemn nod, she closed the door behind them, her voice lowering to a confidential tone. "It's a formed and texturized vegetable-based meat-like product, suitable for grinding. It's blended with large amounts of rendered beef fat for flavor."

Faith's confusion deepened, her brow furrowing in disbelief as she processed Lorraine's revelation. "So, the secret ingredient in your beef is... beef?"

"Faith. You know something powerful here, do you understand that? The Doublemeat reputation is built on a foundation of meat. You can't spread this around," Lorraine cautioned, her tone laced with urgency as she emphasized the importance of maintaining the restaurant's carefully crafted image.

"Tell you what, you scratch my back, I'll scratch yours," Faith proposed, a glint of determination in her eyes as she sought to negotiate a mutually beneficial arrangement.

"Meaning?" Lorraine inquired, her curiosity piqued by Faith's proposition.

"My girlfriend is pregnant. Would you be interested in letting me return temporarily until she gives birth and then give her my job?" Faith offered, her voice tinged with desperation as she laid bare her personal circumstances. "This isn't me. I applied here because Manny didn't ask any questions about my background."

"About your background?" Lorraine echoed, her expression shifting as she processed Faith's admission.

"About my stint in jail, which by the way I had a retrial and I was found to be innocent due to the fact the only thing they had was a confession," Faith explained, her voice carrying a hint of bitterness as she recounted her past struggles. "Manny didn't ask too many questions that an ex-con would have to worry about answering."

Lorraine's gaze held steady on Faith, a contemplative expression crossing her features as she weighed the implications of the proposition before her. After a prolonged moment of consideration, she finally spoke. "I can do that," she declared, her tone resolute yet tinged with a hint of caution. "But on one condition. You're not quitting after your girlfriend has her baby. If you do good enough in that time, regardless if she comes looking for a job or not, I think I would like to make you my assistant manager."

Faith's eyes widened in disbelief; her surprise evident as she processed Lorraine's unexpected offer. "Why would you do that?"

"For one, what you did by bringing the severed finger to the customer's attention speaks highly about someone more interested in the customer than her job," Lorraine explained, her voice firm with conviction. "For another, I think you deserve a second chance. Let's show the people that put you behind bars that you are not that person anymore. And what better way to do that than to become an assistant manager?"

A warmth spread through Faith as Lorraine's words sank in, a glimmer of hope igniting within her as she dared to envision a future beyond the shadows of her past. "I'd like that," she responded, a genuine smile gracing her lips as she embraced the opportunity for redemption and a fresh start.