Sitting at their dining table the next morning, Tara stirred honey into her tea for longer than she needed to. She felt like everything she was about to do or say was somehow suspect, but it wasn't. She wasn't going to lie, she just—

"I feel like I need some time outside on my own," she told Willow. "To strategize."

Willow, who was fiddling with the settings on the toaster, looked up. Their dining room and kitchen, with its natural golden sunlight pouring in, had always been Tara's favorite thing about their apartment. But now its soft goldenness felt oppressive. Everything did, even the amount of time Willow was taking to perfect her toast settings. Normally, Tara found Willow's obsession with the perfect toast-crunch level adorable. Why didn't anything feel normal anymore?

"Strategizing sounds good," Willow said distractedly. "You sure you don't need a sounding board?"

"I don't need you for everything," Tara said abruptly, and Willow stopped and looked at her, concerned.

"I didn't say that, honey," she said. "I just want you to know I'm here for you."

"I'm sorry," Tara said. "That came out wrong. I didn't get enough sleep last night."

"You want me to make you some eggs?" Willow asked. "You might have more energy if you eat breakfast."

"I'm not hungry," Tara said. "But thank you. You're the best."

"I try," Willow said with a smile.

Tara drank her tea, but she didn't enjoy it the way she usually did. I just need some fresh air, she thought.

But the air outside was mocking her, she was sure of it. She walked to a nearby park and tried to appreciate the nature there, but that thought was depressing, because appreciating nature wasn't supposed to take any effort, not for her. This was ridiculous. She couldn't think like this. And if she went home in this state, she wouldn't be good company for anyone, least of all Willow. Faith was a person who was often prickly toward people she cared about and didn't care. That, Tara told herself, was why she was calling Faith. Because Faith would understand this kind of mood. Faith could give her solid advice.

Tara's heart was beating faster than it should have been as the phone rang, but she ignored that. Generalized anxiety, she told herself, no big deal.

"Tara? For real?" Faith answered, by way of greeting. "I didn't think you'd actually use my number. So hit me, what do we got?"

"I…what do you mean?"

Faith laughed that light, teasing laugh she had. "I figure if you're bothering to call me it's because you and Willow figured out what these vamps were up to and you've come up with a stellar way to disrupt their plans."

"Oh," Willow said, trying to sound nonchalant. "That would make sense, but no."

"No?" Faith said. "Interesting. What's on your mind?"

"I was…kind of hoping I could see you."

"Were you really."

"But not if you're busy—or if you're…"

"My door is always open for you, Tara."

"What?"

"You heard me. Come on over. It's rude to keep a girl waiting, so don't."

Tara was surprised by how alluring Faith's building was. It was a little dilapidated, but in the pleasing kind of way that vines and other flora are drawn to. She stood at Faith's door for a minute, took a deep breath, and knocked. When she heard the creak of the door opening, she fought the urge to run.

Faith wore a black tank top, with straps thin enough to show those of her lacy red push-up bra. In black skintight PVC vinyl pants and tall black lace-up boots, she looked stunning.

"Well fancy meeting you here," she said. "What's a wholesome-looking pretty girl like you doing in a place like this?"

"I…I like your outfit," Tara said.

"Yeah?" Faith half-smiled. "I hoped you would."

Tara stood in the doorway, frozen.

"You're not a vampire!" Faith said, laughing. "You can just come in because you feel like it, don't wait for my invitation."

Faith stepped aside, but she stayed in the doorway, and when Tara edged past her, she couldn't avoid grazing Faith's breasts with her shoulder.

"I hope you're not hungry," Faith said. "Because I can't cook for shit and I basically live on instant coffee."

"I'm…not…"

"What's got you so nervous?" Faith said.

"Nothing, I just—"

Tara found herself starting to pace around Faith's living room, and was relieved when she was directed to sit. Faith had one arm chair, a beanbag chair, and a few pillows on the floor. In the relative-distance Tara saw an open door, the bedroom.

"Here, join me on this," Faith said, lowering herself gracefully into the luxuriously large and squishy beanbag chair. "There's plenty of room."

"Is there?" Tara said. "I don't know if I can fit next to—"

"Here," Faith said. "We'll just sit like this. Sit down in front of me and—"

Tara did as directed, her back facing Faith, then gasped as she felt Faith's arms around her, pulling Tara against her chest.

"Comfortable?" she asked.

"I…yes," she found herself saying. "Are you?"

Faith exhaled contentedly. "I'm aces," she said. "Now, what did you come over to talk about?"

Tara stammered. She couldn't believe how stupid she sounded. Faith laughed, and wrapped her vinyl-covered legs around Tara from behind. "It's okay," Faith said. "We don't have to talk."

Tara felt as though her mind had melted, had given entirely over to her body, which seemed to have a set of motivations all its own. Without thinking, she was fingering the laces of Faith's boots, one with each hand, feeling how high up each boot reached, and before she could consciously register what she was doing she was stroking Faith's calf, feeling the taunt muscles under the tight rubbery texture.

"Mmm, you have a nice touch," Faith said. Tara had never heard her sound so relaxed. "Do that some more."

Tara continued to stroke Faith's leg, inching above her knee. "Wow," Faith said. "I've never met a guy who could do this. You've obviously been with a fuckton of women."

Tara laughed nervously. "That's…sarcasm, right?"

"What? No! The dick-loving half of my bisexuality is literally evaporating as we sit here, you had to learn that."

"Willow is the only…I was a virgin before she…I hadn't even kissed…"

"Are. You. Serious."

"Yeah. I mean I…I didn't have…I didn't have a lot of freedom, growing up."

"I see," Faith said, nodding. "I had a little too much. Too bad we couldn't balance each other ou—oh that feels good, can you maybe—"

Faith put her hand over Tara's, and slid Tara's hand to the edge of her thigh. "Can I feel you right there? Oh god that's amazing."

"I'm glad you…I mean I'm glad I…"

"You wanna go lie down?" Faith asked.

"Yes," Tara said slowly. Faith rose. "But I don't know if it's okay."

"You tell me," Faith said. "Is it okay?"

"Probably not," Tara answered. But as she said it, she was following Faith into her bedroom.