Chapter Text
Redemption
I was never much of a reader. Never cared for it. But being locked up in prison for life and then out at 25—That’ll change your view on most things. With too much time on my hands and a desperate need to stay out of trouble, I found solace in books. Who would’ve thought that me, Faith Lehane—former rebel, troublemaker, and certified screw-up—would become an avid reader? I sure as hell didn’t.
One day, I came across this old anthology book. Looked like it was from the fifties or something. One story struck a nerve. It was about this guy who travels back in time to hunt a dinosaur but accidentally steps on a butterfly, and that one tiny act changes the entire course of history. I remember lying in my bunk night after night, turning that idea over in my head. How could something so small have such a huge impact?
It made me wonder if I could narrow my life down to one event, one moment, that might’ve changed everything—what would it be? Could I even find it in a life so tangled with regret and bad choices? For a long time, the answer escaped me.
Then I got the news: Buffy Summers, the real Chosen One, had fallen saving the world and protecting the family she loved. That was the day my life ended, in a way. And it was also the day I finally found my answer.
*****
I
Gravel crunched under Faith Lehane’s worn leather boots as she stepped off the dusty old Greyhound bus. The sound was a welcome change from the monotonous hum of the journey. She relished the opportunity to stretch her legs after being suffocated in her cramped seat during the few hours of travel. The feeling of confinement came close to driving her mad. Faith hated being trapped and restricted, causing her to fidget constantly during the bus ride, much to the annoyance of her fellow passenger, a kind elderly woman traveling from Pasadena. She’d spent enough time in cramped spaces and was determined to avoid them at all costs for the rest of her life.
Taking a moment, she admired the glittering stars adorning the night sky. Faith, only recently realized how much she missed them. She’d be sure to put them on the ever-increasing List-Of-Things-She-Never-Wanted-To-Do-Without, which also included, but was not limited to, fresh pizza, working air conditioning, cable television, butter pecan ice cream, and the privacy to go to the bathroom without an audience.
“Two years...” she whispered. Two years of prison food, communal showers, and being told where to go, how to dress, and when to sleep. Now she was out on her feet, on her own, and finally able to hunt and slay again.
The Hunt. Faith scolds herself, the word reverberating in her mind like a scream. Once upon a time, she would have capitalized the word with reverence, much like the faithful say “God” with utmost devotion. Except for her, it was never about praying on bended knee. It was always about the kill, the satisfaction of taking down her prey. Each dusted vampire felt like a holy hymn, a celebration of her strength and power. That was her purpose, her religion. It had brought her joy and fulfillment. But that was the old Faith. The one she had buried deep within herself years ago - the broken, cynical killer that saw nothing but darkness in the world. She could feel the killer inside, clawing to break free. She’d had all the answers then. The truth about Slayers. They were driven by an innate need to hunt and kill. Even Buffy, with her silver crucifix and non-fat yogurts, couldn’t deny this primal urge. Faith had always believed that they shared this compulsion, a connection that went beyond their friendship. But she had been wrong. She had been too self-absorbed to see it until it was too late. Buffy’s faith was genuine, while hers was just a facade. A way to justify her need to lash out for all the pain and hurt that had consumed her soul.
Faith was wiser now, or at least she hoped she was. Her eyes scanned the bus depot. It was odd. The place was bustling with activity. She had thought there would be fewer people because it was night and where she was. It made no difference in the grand scheme of things she gathered, and Faith made her way past the row of parked buses. The sound of conversations and the smell of exhaust filled the air, reminding her of her days on the road. She slung her beat-up duffel bag higher onto her leather-clad shoulder and walked through the crowd, feeling slightly out of place. Most people were going about their daily lives, unaware of the horrors that lurked among them.
Faith’s senses were on alert as she navigated through the depot. Her eyes scanned the area, looking for any sign of danger. It may have been two years since she had last seen a vampire, but she knew better than to let her guard down, especially in a place like this. She remembered this bus depot from before. Not much had changed since she had been here long ago. But she had changed. She was no longer blinded by her own pain and hatred.
As she walked past a group of teenagers laughing and joking around, Faith felt a pang of envy at such innocence. She had never really had that.
Faith continued walking until she found an empty bench near one of the entrance doors. She sat down, putting her bag beside her and taking a deep breath to calm herself. It wasn’t easy being out in public again after spending so long locked up in prison. She had changed for the better—she hoped. But change had not come easy for Faith. It had challenged her at every turn, like a constant itch she couldn’t scratch. Being locked up and away from the thrill of the hunt was like trying to break an addiction. It was the most difficult thing about allowing herself to be incarcerated. Imagine being a purebred hunting dog trapped inside a kennel with a pack of flea-bitten mutts. Mutts that barked incessantly whined for attention, fought over territory, and occasionally tried to mount you when the guards weren’t looking. (although they quickly regretted it). Sometimes, she could barely contain her urge to break free. Not because she craved freedom, but because she needed to satisfy her primal instincts. In moments of stillness and solitude, lying on her bunk, she couldn’t help but compare her feelings to those of serial killers awaiting execution on death row. But she pushed the thought out of her mind - it made her skin crawl.
But now prison was behind her. Despite all the horrors she had endured there, she was still here. She had always focused on the present rather than dwelling on the past. It was easier to bury her painful memories in a deep grave, along with countless others. However, everything changed when Buffy died a year ago.
Angel had been the one to deliver the devastating news to her. The words had crushed Faith. It felt to her like someone had sucked all the air out of her lungs, and she couldn’t breathe. It was as if there had not been enough air in the world to fill her lungs again. She had blacked out in the middle of the prison’s visitor room. When Faith finally came back to herself, she was in the infirmary, strapped down to a hospital bed, nursing broken ribs and an arm fracture earned from being struck with a baton. According to the transport officers, she had injured several guards before being sedated with enough tranquilizers to bring down a horse.
After that outburst, it was solitary confinement for her. The Hole was a dark, solitary cell meant for the most dangerous and unruly inmates. It was barely larger than a closet. There was one small window for the guards, but there was no other human contact other than them. Just Faith and her thoughts. At first, she had tried to fight back her tears as her heart shattered into more pieces as she lay there in silence, trying to remember Buffy’s face, her smile, that unique asymmetrical nose she scrunched up whenever Faith made her laugh. All the good things they had shared as sister Slayers. But they seemed distant and hazy, almost like they belonged to someone else; maybe never happened at all.
Days turned into weeks, weeks turned into months. Time lost all meaning in solitary confinement. There were no clocks or calendars in The Hole, just endless loneliness and dark thoughts broken up by brief moments of light when the guards brought her meals or walked her to a designated area for exercise.
It did not matter, Faith’s mind was never at peace. It constantly replayed everything that had transpired between her and Buffy over the years. Especially every cruel word she had said, every punch she had thrown. She remembered how much pleasure she used to take in hurting Buffy, both physically and emotionally. It made her sick; she had wretched over the toilet over and over. And then came the realization that their paths would never cross again. That Buffy was gone forever.
It hit Faith like a ton of bricks. All the time she had wasted feeling anger and resentment towards Buffy, she would never get back. The overwhelming sense of guilt and regret was more than she could bear. Tears streaming down her face as she finally understood the true cost of her actions. All those years spent denying why she had been so angry at Buffy. Why she had pushed her away, hurting her all the while, knowing how much Buffy had cared about her -until she didn’t. Faith was completely alone, with nothing but a gaping void inside her.
Yet Destiny gave Faith a second chance—a chance at redemption—and she’d be damned if she let it slip away again, like she had before. This was the opportunity to make amends for every wrong she’d committed as a Slayer and all the wrongs she’d done to Buffy.
But she was terrified. Terrified in a way that went beyond the fear of death. She hadn’t felt that kind of dread since Kakistos had hunted her down, leaving her Watcher’s lifeless body in his wake. No, this fear was different. It was deeper, more intimate. It was the fear that she wouldn’t be able to find the right words to say to Buffy—the words that might finally set her on the path to redemption.
She sat in silence, gathering what little courage she had left. If there was ever a chance to make things right, it was now. Taking a deep, shaky breath, she stood and began walking down the dimly lit path, her heart pounding with each step. The large sign loomed ahead, its letters stark against the night: Welcome to Sunnydale.
A bitter smile tugged at the corners of Faith’s lips. After all her mistakes, all her regrets, it had always felt like she’d never really left. Sunnydale had a way of trapping her, of keeping her like a ghost. But maybe—just maybe—closing this chapter with Buffy would finally allow her to move on. To make a life for herself. To prove to Buffy, and to herself, that she was worthy of the second chance that destiny had given her.
*****
II
Tara Maclay walked briskly along the quiet street.
The air was filled with the smell of autumn leaves and the faint aroma of coffee wafting from nearby cafés. Class had ended an hour before, the day’s lectures had faded into the background as her mind became occupied with errands she still had to run before returning to her dorm room. It had been quite the transition from living with Willow and Dawn in a home to living alone in small dorm room again. Moving out of Buffy’s house after her breakup with Willow had been...hard. Buffy had asked her to stay, maybe in another room, insisting it was her home too. But Tara couldn’t bear being between Buffy and Willow; making Buffy choose between her and Willow was unfair, so she fell on her sword and found a dorm room that had recently become available after the previous occupant never returned from a night out at a club.Tara had already picked up some magical ingredients for a spell for the room, just in case the former occupant’s spirit still lingered and needed help crossing over. And if he happened to be a recent addition to Sunnydale’s pale and fangy community vampire, she had also picked up the necessary items to reinforce the room’s protective threshold. It was Sunnydale after all.
This evening all Tara had forward to look for was some grocery shopping at a supermarket along her route, mainly snacks, for Dawn, who she was babysitting on Friday. Buffy had called to check in on her and mentioned that a new “Big Bad” had surfaced, and the rest of the Scoobies - Tara guessed, Willow and Spike included - would be out dealing with it. It stung that Buffy no longer invited Tara to their meetings. Still, she understood it was probably Buffy’s way of avoiding any wounds caused by Willow’s presence. After all, Willow was still her best friend.
So, in Tara-like fashion, she had jumped at the chance for a lazy night in her dorm room watching movies with Dawn. Buffy had been more than grateful. The tired blonde had been dreading the predictable fight that would have occurred with her younger sister when Dawn was told she could not go with the Scoobies and face certain doom. Not exactly date night but at least now Tara had something to look forward to. She smiled at the thought of spending a quiet evening with the younger Summers. Tara always enjoyed being around the young girl, who always seemed to bring a sense of lightness and joy into her life. She couldn’t wait to see the excitement on Dawn’s face when she showed her the latest magic tricks she had been practicing.
With her mind now occupied with positive thoughts, Tara entered the local grocery store, reconsidering what she would fill her basket with. She also decided to pick up ingredients for dinner, not just snacks. Homemade lasagna would be perfect for their evening in. Tara was sure that, given the Summers sisters’ lack of culinary skills, poor Dawn was probably surviving on T.V. dinners and microwave pizza bites. Determined to provide a warm, home-cooked meal, Tara smiled as she imagined the look on Dawn’s face when she smelled the lasagna baking in the oven.
Lost in her own thoughts, Tara had failed to notice the two strangers who had begun following her along her route.
*****
III
Faith tucked her hands into her leather jacket, unsure if the cold feeling she felt was the bite of the slight autumn breeze or something else.
“Me, nervous? Ain’t that a kick in the balls,” she chuckled dryly.
That stupid “Welcome to Sunnydale” sign was to blame. Looking at it had triggered a wave of nostalgia that washed over her. This town held so many memories, both good and bad. She couldn’t help but remember the nights spent patrolling with Buffy, the laughter they shared, and the battles they fought side by side. But those memories were marred by her own mistakes and the pain she had caused.
“Fucking Sunnydale, California. “Faith groused. This stupid little coastal town had cost her so much. It was a wonder it had yet to be put under emergency martial law. The damn town had suffered a nightly decrease in population that Faith was sure left the guys at the Census Bureau shaking their heads. And as if her past mistakes weren’t enough to make her want to stay away, Sunnydale also happened to be the home of what the early Spanish settlers of California called “La Boca del Infierno.”
The Hellmouth.
In many ways, returning to this little speck on the map was more complicated than her prison stay. The Hellmouth drew evil to it like a magnet, resulting in an unusually high number of vampires and demons feeding on its citizens. But that wasn’t what troubled Faith at the moment. What scared her now was that deep in her soul, she felt the Hellmouth’s call, too. Angel was right; it was too soon. She could have waited a little while before coming back here. She could turn back, hop on a bus to L.A., and return when she was in a better state of mind. It’s not like Buffy wanted to see her anyway. Angel had warned her before she set off that Buffy was different from the girl he knew before her death and resurrection. When he had last spoken to her she had seemed more withdrawn and something else seething below the surface. This did not fill Faith with the warm and fuzzies. The last time they had been together, Buffy had wanted to kill her.
Faith’s heart ached with the weight of what she had done to Buffy. How could she even begin to make amends to the wrongs she had committed to the one person other than Angel and her watcher who had ever tried to help her?
“I gave you every chance! I tried so hard to help you, and you spat on me! My life was just something for you to play with. Angel, Riley ... anything that you could take from me, you took! I’ve lost battles before, but nobody else has ever made me a victim.” Buffy’s voice echoed relentlessly in her mind.
Faith glanced around and realized she had wandered to the Bronze, the place where she had first met Buffy, where they had danced together before she had fucked it all up.
No, I don’t deserve a second chance. I should just forget this and go back to Angel.
But for a year, Faith thought about this day and what needed to be done. She could not turn away from this, no matter the outcome, Faith needed to see this through. She sighed and continued her quest, hoping her senses would lead her to the person she was here to find.
Soon, Faith found herself in a familiar part of downtown Sunnydale. Only a little had changed since she had been incarcerated. Sure, there were a few new Starbucks seemingly on every few blocks, but other than that, it still looked like the same place Buffy and she had patrolled together. Except tonight, there were no demons out and about, but for all Faith knew, demons probably ran Starbucks. Realizing she was only a few blocks from Revello Drive, it was time to gather her courage and face Buffy.
“Here goes nothing,” she muttered, her voice barely rising above the chatter of people shopping or dining on outside tables along the cafes and restaurants. Her stride was purposeful, carving a path through the people who flowed around her, unaware of the penance she carried in her heart. Faith’s fingers grazed the silver cross at her throat, a weightless anchor amidst the storm of her emotions.
“Okay, Faith, you can do this,” she whispered, rehearsing the apology that had taken root in her mind’s fertile soil of regret. “B., I’m sorry.” No, too simple. “Buffy, I know I screwed up.” Better, but not enough. Each step towards Buffy’s house wound the spring of nervous energy tighter within her chest.
“Listen, Buffy, I’m not askin’ for forgiveness, just... a chance to explain.” As the words formed on her lips, they felt awkward and unfamiliar, full of raw honesty. She could almost envision Buffy’s guarded demeanor. Her green eyes narrowing like they had been at Angel’s home two years before. That look was still etched in her memory, haunting her even now. The way Buffy had looked at her stayed with her, a constant reminder of how much Buffy had come to hate her.
“Dammit,” she cursed under her breath, pausing for a moment to lean against the rough brick wall of a nearby building. The city’s people continued their hurried dance, oblivious to the drama unfolding in the Slayer’s turbulent soul.
“Look, B., I was wrong, and there’s no excuse for what I did. I want to make it right. I need to make it right.” Her practiced lines spilled into the ether, dissipating among the urban soundscape.
“Who’re you talkin’ to?”
Faith snapped her gaze to the side, meeting the curious eyes of a homeless man rummaging through a pile of garbage. She flashed a quick, tight-lipped smile that didn’t reach her eyes.
"Nobody, old timer. You shouldn’t be out here. It’s not safe when the sun goes down in this town, or haven’t you noticed.”
“Oh, I’ve noticed, missy. Don’t you worry, that pretty little head of yours? I’ve been here a long time and know how to keep out of trouble, like always being aware of who or what is around you, carrying your crucifix, and sleeping in the church at night. The priest always leaves the door for us folk. He knows things, too, unlike that poor young lady there. She is in for a world of trouble, I think.”
Faith’s gaze followed the old man’s towards a woman dressed in an eccentric mix of styles. Something akin to cute art teacher meets green witchy grunge girl that’s a little too into crystals. Her blonde hair served as a curtain, covering most of her face. However, Faith could still see that she was lost in thought, not paying attention to her surroundings as she walked towards the narrow gap between two buildings. Completely unaware of the danger approaching her - a rough-looking man in a surplus army jacket and a dirty wool knit cap.
Faith found herself crossing the slow street traffic. Her legs moving without conscious control. The muscles in her body tensed, and her heart raced as she made her way across honking cars, her senses on high alert. Then she noticed it. More movement was coming from the shadows of the alley. She realized too late that at the pace the blonde was traveling, she would get to the mouth of the alley before Faith cleared the distance.
Damn! It had to be vampires , her mind screamed. And here she was, without a stake. This wasn’t good; she had hoped to avoid tangling with any of the undead until she had some training with Angel and brought herself back up to peak form. But judging by the blonde about to be pulled into the alley, she wouldn’t have much choice. She began to run, adrenaline surging through her veins, when a bright light filled her peripheral vision. She turned just in time to see two headlights bearing down on her.
*****
IV
Tara realized too late that she had made a horrible rookie mistake... In Sunnydale, you never get too close to the open alleys, especially after sunset... at least that is if you wanted to stay off the menu. She never saw the hands that pulled her into the dark alley. All the young witch knew was that something had a vice-like hold of her. She was trying to think of a spell to get free when suddenly a fist buried itself deep into her solar plexus. Air left her lungs, and she tumbled to her knees.
When the tears in her eyes cleared, she made out who her assailants were. Two males, one of them was quite large. Tara figured he probably used to play football judging by the thick, nonexistent neck and span of his shoulders. He towered over her. His face was rugged and weathered, making him look older than he probably was. The second one stood beside her. He possessed gaunt features and a pockmarked face, his hand adjusting the knit wool cap atop his head.
There was a strong odor of sweat, cheap alcohol, and marijuana coming from the men, a mixture that made Tara’s stomach turn. Not that it needed help; the air in the dimly lit alley was already musty and dank, and the smell of trash and rot was already assaulting her nose.
“Get her fucking purse, asshole,” the large ox ordered as he emptied out her books from her school bag and onto the trash-littered ground.
“Alright! Alright! When I become your lackey anyway,” replied the younger one as he emptied the contents of the large purse.
“Not too much cash in here,” he shouted. “I think this is a waste...oh wait, SCORE!! Check this out.” The young punk threw a large bag filled with a green and brown plant substance at his partner. The large one caught it and fiddled with the bag, trying to get to its contents. “Sweet, this bitch must have been going to a party.”
“Of course, look at her, man. She’s one of those new-age, hippy grunge college girls. Of course, she’s got pot. Probably underarm hair and hairy legs, too. You know the type.”
“Who gives a shit? She at least made it worth our time.” He opened the bag, hoping to find drugs. All he saw was disappointment. “THE FUCK! What is this, oregano?! FUCKING OREGANO! Who the fuck carries a bag of spices in her purse?”
“What? Let me see that. Give it here.” The ox handed knit cap the bag. He found words written with a black Sharpie on the bag. “Mugwort, sage, and mint mix!?” Frustrated, he took it out on Tara and backhanded her across the face. “She’s one of those wannabe witcheS, Vegans I think they’re called.”
Tara was on the alley floor again, lips bleeding, heart racing. She was petrified and couldn’t focus on finding a spell to save her. Tara’s spells were all white magic, nothing she could use to hurt her attackers. Willow was the one with the real power.
“No dumbass, they’re called Wiccans. Isn’t that right, you’re one of those Wicca lesbian bitches,” the knit cap said as he kneeled in front of Tara. “You got no cash, and you got no drugs.” Tara didn’t like the playful tone of his voice. “Bad luck for you, sweets. Guess we gotta get ours in some other way. We’re gonna give that fat hairy pussy of yours something it’s been lacking for a while now.”
“Not this, please. By the Goddess, please not this,” Tara’s mind screamed. “P-P-Please… d-don’t do this,” she pleaded, her voice trembling. She knew what was coming next. She had heard stories about girls who were raped in dark alleys by men like these. But she never thought it would happen to her.
The punk just laughed, “Don’t worry, baby. You’re gonna love it. You’ve been missing out for some time. Now be a good little dyke and take your medicine.”
“You serious?” the bigger thug asked, a hint of uncertainty in his voice.
“Of course I am. So much shit goes down at Sunnydale University. Who’s gonna notice one more missing college girl?”
“NO!! NO, PLEASE!!” Tara screamed, but her cries fell on deaf ears. They ignored her desperate pleas, grabbing her arms and dragging her toward a dark corner of the alley. A large hand clamped over her mouth, silencing her. The younger thug brandished a large knife.
“SSSHH! Be real quiet now,” he whispered menacingly. “Don’t make a sound, or Daddy will have to cut in on ya. Now, if you’re a good girl, we promise not to make you disappear. See, we got your wallet with your I.D. and your address. So, if we let you go, you’ll be so grateful for our companionship that you won’t go flapping that pretty little mouth of yours. You won’t say anything because you know we’ll find you. Blink if we have an understanding.”
Tara’s eyes filled with tears as she blinked, terror gripping her heart.
Smirking, Knit Cap looked up to his larger friend holding Tara quiet and gestured, “Yo, you wanna go first, or should I?”
“Nah, she seems more your style.”
“Wadda, you mean?”
The big one looked at Tara and smirked: “You know thick bitches.”
“Fuck you!! Your loss, ’cause i’d bet she’s got a real sweet ass under that long dress.” The younger thug laughed as he gave Tara’s ass an appreciative leer. “I’m right. It looks like she got some cushion back here,” he said crudely.
Tara felt a wave of revulsion wash over her as she heard him say, “Oh yeah, you’re gonna be a fun ride.”
Tara was trying to fight back. To bite and kick, do anything to get away, but the hand firmly clasped around her face was not only muffling her screams; it was also cutting off her oxygen. She felt dizzy... like she was sinking. She found herself fighting to stay conscious. She awoke with a start when she felt the big brute’s calloused hands on her.
“Fuck, your right. This bitch’s gotta a real nice ass... let’s find out how it looks.”
They tried to get her dress up and over her hips, but Tara went into full panic mode and began kicking as wildly as she could until one of her kicks caught something solid...the younger one’s groin. He staggered away to nurse his genitals. She focused on the larger one and pushed with her mind, trying to use all the magic she could muster to get the behemoth off of her... that is, until her world turned dark, courtesy of his ham-sized fist.
“Fucking cunt, that’ll teach ya to mind your manners.” He made sure the blonde was unconscious. Then, he proceeded to walk to his friend, who had just vomited from the pain of the girl’s kick. “You alright.”
“Fuck man, that hurt; course I’m not alright, cunt fucking stomped kicked my balls. What do ya think, meathead?”
“That sucks, man. Looks like I’ll be the only one getting some action tonight.” He chuckled as he made his way over to the unconscious girl lying on the hard pavement.
“You’re an asshole. As soon as my throbbing stops, I’m gonna wipe that smirk off your stupid face.” The guy in the knit cap whined as he got onto his knees, angry that he couldn’t participate in the action.
Both men were so focused on what they would do to the girl that they didn’t notice someone or something walking up behind them...and it was angry. It snapped the ox off of the unconscious woman with such force that he went airborne. Unfortunately for him, his flight was cut short when he slammed into the alley’s brick wall. He collapsed, unconscious, and slid down the wall like a discarded trash bag.
“What the fuck?!” the younger punk shouted in shock. Knit Cap had just watched something toss his much larger friend into the air like a rag doll. His head snapped to where the unconscious woman still lay. Looming in the shadows where his friend had once stood was a woman, her silhouette stark and menacing. He couldn’t make out her face, but he was sure her eyes were fixed on him.
He’d heard stories about PCP crazies hanging around Sunnydale—rumors said they were so far gone they’d become less than human. It was said they would actually try to rip your jugular out like some kind of ravenous animal. She certainly had that look.
“No fucking way am I going out like that,” he muttered. The pain in his testicles forgotten, he swiftly drew his knife and stood up, ready to defend himself.
“Who da fuck are you?” it was a rhetorical question, really; he was already lunging at the woman, hoping to bury the knife in her flesh, but all the knife found was empty space.
A mocking laugh reverberated in the narrow alleyway, causing the young thug to tremble. Suddenly, she was beside him, close enough to lean into his ear and whisper, “What’s the matter? Not man enough to get the job done?”
“What the fuck are you?” His panicked voice cracked as he swung his limbs towards the source of the laughter, but each time he turned, she seemed to disappear and reappear elsewhere.
“Are you some kind of ghost?” He whimpered.
Faith’s lips pulled into a wicked grin as she leered at the frightened man. “No.” With lightning speed, she caught his forearm; Ulna and Radius shattered under her grip. He yowled in pain.
“Oh God! It hurts! Please let go…let go of my arm, please.” He whimpered. Her feral grin broadened as she instead squeezed a little more, causing the man to let out a guttural scream.
Oh, how she relished feeling bones break under her fingertips again. Her body quivered. It felt so good. She missed THIS. More than sex. Regrettably, the bones breaking under her grip were human, not vampire. She needed to restrain herself. She couldn’t be lethal. Pity for him, death would have been less painful.
”Oh god, oh God.” Knit Cap sobbed as he held his broken hand against his body. “I give up, no more!”
Faith met his eyes and sneered.
“Please... Please, Oh god please don’t kill me,” he pleaded, whimpering like a frightened child.
Stop it! You’re not like that anymore. Finish it quickly, don’t play! a voice in her head admonished. Angry but still in control, she took a deep breath and regained her composure. Her hands blurred in a swift, fluid motion as she grabbed a handful of greasy hair from the back of the knit cap’s head and forcefully brought it down to meet her rising knee. Teeth and bone splintered on impact, the crunch echoing through the alley.
Oh yeah! She’d missed this . His body went limp. Faith’s, on the other hand, was on fire. She could hear her heart pumping, feel blood and adrenaline rushing through her veins, and her body screamed for more. NO!!!!! Refocus...Breathe...Analyze the damage: Shattered eye socket, major dental work, he deserves worse for what he was going to do, probably not for the first time he’d done something like this either… But he was human, and as a Slayer, Faith knew it was not her place to pass judgment on humans no matter how monstrous their actions were. Pain is all he’ll get tonight, ‘sides gotta make sure the girl is...
Her senses picked up the bigger one, rummaging through the garbage and searching for a weapon. He found something. Faith heard the distinct sound of something breaking against a wall. A weapon made of glass, ah, a bottle. The thought almost made her laugh out loud. Big tough man like him needs a weapon. Where’s the bravado he showed while trying to rape a defenseless girl?
She turned to greet him as the ox stalked towards her.
“Uh-uh-uh,” she teased, waving a playful finger at him. “You better put that down, or I’ll make you eat it.” Her voice was light but carried a dangerous edge.
The large thug, too dense to heed the warning, charged at her.
His screams soon flooded the alley.
*****
V
Damn, this took too long , Faith thought, but she remembered that the Sunnydale Police Department wasn’t exactly known for their quick response time.
A gasp escaped the girl’s lips as she saw the scene before her. “By the Goddess... you... so much blood!” Her voice was filled with horror and disbelief, causing Faith to turn around and face her. The blonde woman’s hand flew to cover her mouth, her eyes widening in shock at the sight of the aftermath of violence.
Shit!! The girl saw...She didn’t want that. She had been traumatized enough. Faith stood up from where she was kneeling and discarded the leftover pieces of glass she had been holding. And walked away from the unconscious man. She saw that the girl was weeping now. Her shirt and dress were filthy and torn in certain places.
“Hey, it’s okay,” Faith said softly, trying to calm her down. “You’re safe now. They won’t hurt you anymore. You’re safe now.” Faith couldn’t help but feel a pang of guilt. She should have been here sooner, stopped this from happening but bouncing off a car’s windshield had knocked the wind out of her momentarily. Faith carefully knelt beside her and slowly removed her leather jacket. Gently, she draped it over the blonde’s shoulders, hoping it would help calm and warm the poor woman.
The girl looked up at her with wide, scared eyes. “Ar-are they dead?” She stammered.
Faith was furious at the thought of this poor young woman being attacked and almost violated, yet still showing concern for her attackers’ well-being. Faith pushed it aside despite her anger and focused on comforting the girl.
“They’re alive,” Faith answered softly. “But right now, I’m more worried about you.”
Faith felt a spark of recognition deep in her gut as the girl’s blue eyes met hers. She realized she knew this girl from somewhere.
“Th-thank you, you saved me,” the girl stuttered.
And then it clicked. It’s Red’s girl-pal, “Tara.”
Oh, shit, I said that out loud . Faith cursed at herself in her head for the slip-up.
Tara’s eyebrows furrowed in confusion at the sound of her name. “H-h-how do y-y-you know my name?”
Faith hadn’t expected to run into someone she recognized so soon. She had planned on finding Buffy alone first and then maybe seeing the others if it came down to it. She wasn’t sure if she was ready for this confrontation.
It seemed fate was having some fun with her tonight.
“In for a penny…” Faith took a deep breath and introduced herself, hoping Tara wouldn’t freak out upon hearing her name.
“I’m Faith,” she said with a slight smile.
Recognition sparked in Tara’s eyes, quickly followed by fear as she remembered who Faith was and why she shouldn’t be there.
“W-what are you doing here? I thought you were supposed to be in jail,” Tara stuttered, panic creeping into her voice. The gravity of the situation hit Tara as she realized this was Faith, the rogue Slayer who had terrorized Buffy and her friends. She knew Faith was dangerous and unhinged. As Faith approached, Tara scooted away, unsure what might happen next.
Even though part of Faith wanted to run away, she couldn’t leave Tara in this state. She needed to fix this mess somehow.
Faith spoke up, trying to diffuse the tension and reassure the frightened blonde. “Wait, I was in jail. I got released. It’s a long story. Please, let me help you. I’m not here to hurt anyone, I promise.”
Tara’s eyes flickered to the man writhing in pain on the ground nearby.
“Okay, you got me. I’m not here to hurt anyone else…besides those two.”
Tara stopped inching away but still looked at Faith with apprehension. It seemed that she hadn’t fled yet because Faith had just saved her from danger and used the word “please.” Maybe the Scoobies had warned Tara that this wasn’t a word commonly used by Faith.
“Fine, give me your hand.” The command was gentle yet firm.
“What?” Faith asked, unsure of what Tara meant.
“Your hand,” Tara repeated, her tone clear and insistent. “Give it to me.”
“Okay,” Faith said, uncertain why Tara would want her hand. She wiped off the blood from the large thug using the wool knit cap of his unconscious friend, then extended her hand to Tara.
She watched as Tara closed her eyes and concentrated while holding her hand. When she opened them again, they bore into Faith with such intensity that she felt like a bug being examined under a microscope. But whatever Tara saw in her seemed to ease her fear, although Faith could still sense her nervousness.
“Alright...I believe you are telling the truth,” Tara said with as much confidence as she could muster.
“Just like that?”
“Yes, just like that.”
“Okay,” Faith said, closing her eyes and letting out a sigh of relief. She paused, considering her next move.
“Maybe I should take you to the emergency room to have those cuts and bruises looked at. With all the garbage around here, those things will get a nasty infection.”
“No! ... no hospitals.”
“Alright, I get it. Do you want me to take you somewhere else? I'm sure someone heard the screams and called the cops.” Faith asked, helping Tara up and guiding her to the street.
“Yes, I know a place. I’ll lead you.”
*****
VI
“1630 Revello Drive, fuck me,” Faith muttered to herself as she faced the familiar white bungalow-style home. It stood at the end of a wide concrete sidewalk that began at the curb and led past palms and other trees to a porch spanning the width of the house. A sense of nostalgia and unease washed over Faith as she realized where Tara had led them.
Buffy Summer’s home.
As they approached the porch, Faith’s nerves went into overdrive. She couldn’t believe she was about to see Buffy again after all this time. The house was dark, with no lights visible from any windows, indicating nobody was home. This brought a slight sense of relief to Faith, who was anxious about facing Buffy.
Tara noticed Faith’s reaction and asked, “Did you say something?”
“Just marveling at my luck,” Faith replied with a forced nonchalance.
They climbed the porch steps, and to Faith’s surprise, Tara pulled out a key from her bag. “I used to live here, but not anymore” Tara explained with a pained smile. “But Buffy, let me keep the key in case of emergencies.”
Faith nodded, remembering how in love Willow and Tara seemed when she first met them. It made sense that they would have moved in together to care for Buffy’s younger sister.
Tara unlocked the door, and both women entered the darkened house. Faith guided Tara to the couch and brushed some hair strands from her face. “Those cuts need cleaning,” she said sympathetically, wincing at the sight of Tara’s injuries.
Tara’s voice trembled as she spoke. “Oh, okay... Buffy keeps the first aid kit, extra towels, and rags....”
“In a kitchen cabinet by the sink. I’m on it.” Without hesitation, Faith rose from her spot on the floor, placed her duffle bag on the opposite chair, and strode toward the kitchen. In just a minute, she returned with a small white first aid kit in one hand and a bottle of antiseptic in the other.
“Come here, let me look at those,” Faith said gently as she sat beside Tara on the oversized couch.
“How did you know?” Tara asked, amazed by Faith’s quickness and knowledge of where everything was kept.
“Hey, if there’s one thing us Slayers know how to do, it’s treat a wound,” Faith replied with a chuckle as she began tending to Tara’s injuries. The young witch couldn’t help but be surprised by the tenderness in Faith’s touch and the care she put into cleaning and bandaging each cut and scratch.
“No, not that,” Tara corrected herself. “How did you know where...”
“The first aid kit was,” Faith finished for her, her voice suddenly somber. “I wasn’t always bad, Tara. There had been a time, believe it or not, when we were all friends. That is before I royally fucked things up.”
“I’m sorry,” Tara said softly, guilty for bringing up painful memories.
“It’s okay,” Faith reassured her. “Just glad I could still remember where things are kept.”
“Yes, but I didn’t mean to dredge up bad memories.”
“It doesn’t matter, Tara. It’s my fault. I’m the one who did it. Hell, this entire town is just a cesspool of pain and trauma for me. My only happy memories are tainted by what I chose to do.” Faith’s eyes glistened with unshed tears, betraying the tough facade she tried to maintain.
Tara reached out to comfort Faith, but the brunette flinched away, clearly uncomfortable with any gesture of kindness. To Tara, Faith didn’t fit the image of a monster that the Scoobies portrayed her as.
“Hey, what happened to your stutter?” Faith deflected, quickly putting up her walls again after showing a glimpse of vulnerability.
“I only stutter when I’m scared or nervous. And I’m no longer afraid of you, Faith.” Tara’s words held a quiet strength, conveying her unwavering belief in Faith’s potential for redemption and forgiveness.
As Faith opened her mouth to speak, a familiar tingle ran down her spine like an electric current. Her body stiffened as she sensed a familiar presence approaching. Then came the sound of the door opening. Tara turned and saw two figures step into the living room, their silhouettes framed by the doorway. Faith quickly recognized them as Buffy and Willow. She stood up nervously to greet them, her mind racing with worry over how the scene might appear to them.
Willow’s grocery bag dropped from her hand with a loud thud as she let out a piercing scream. Her eyes darkened and crackled with dangerous energy. A sense of foreboding washed over Faith; she knew something bad was about to happen. But before she could react, Buffy had crossed the distance between them with Slayer speed, grabbing Faith by the neck and slamming her against the nearest wall.
“Baby! Oh my God, are you okay?” Willow cried out in alarm as she rushed over to Tara, who was still sitting on the couch.
“You bitch!” Buffy screamed angrily at Faith. “How are you here? Did you break out?”
Faith tried to speak, but Buffy’s vice-like hold on her jaw and neck only tightened, making it difficult for her to breathe. She could feel her vision starting to blur from lack of oxygen.
“Of all the things you could have done after escaping prison, your first instinct is to show up here and once again hurt the people I care about?” Buffy’s grip grew tighter, and Faith’s desperate need for air intensified. She didn’t want to fight with Buffy; that wasn’t why she had returned.
“I should have known Angel was wrong about you,” Buffy spat bitterly, disappointment and hatred pouring from her fiercely green eyes.
“BUFFY, STOP! You’re killing her!” Dawn Summers suddenly appeared in the doorway, frantically pulling at Buffy’s arm in an attempt to make her let go. Buffy glared at her younger sister, her anger still burning hotly.
“Why should I, Dawn? She’s a monster. And we Slayers know how to deal with monsters, don’t we, Faith?” Buffy turned back to face Faith with a steely determination in her eyes.
Tara’s voice cracked as she yelled, tears streaming down her face. “Buffy, you don’t understand. Faith didn’t hurt me; she saved me!”
The shock on Willow and Buffy’s faces was palpable as they both looked at Tara in disbelief.
“I was stupid. I should have known better...” Tara’s hands trembled as she recounted the events. Willow grabbed Tara’s hands, using them as an anchor to steady the crying blonde.
Dawn quickly joined, immediately sitting next to Tara on the couch and running gentle fingers through her hair.
“What happened, Tara? Talk to us.” Dawn’s voice was filled with concern.
Buffy reluctantly released her hold on Faith, allowing the dark-haired Slayer to slide down the wall and onto the floor.
“Two men came out of nowhere, pulled me into an alley...and they...” Tara’s sobs intensified as she recalled the horrifying experience.
“Oh God! Tara, are you all right?” Buffy was now kneeling in front of Tara, completely forgetting about Faith for a moment.
“Did they hurt you?” Willow asked, tears trailing down her cheeks.
“Yes,” Tara replied quietly, unable to make eye contact.
“Did they...” Dawn couldn’t even finish her sentence before breaking down in tears.
“No...but if Faith hadn’t been there...” Tara trailed off, her composure starting to crumble.
Buffy turned to look at Faith, who was rubbing her neck and jaw where bruises were already forming.
“Buffy, if it wasn’t for Faith...” Tara’s voice wavered, but she managed to keep herself together.
Without a word, Buffy stood up and faced Faith. Her stance made it clear that any sudden movement by Faith would be met with violence.
Faith slowly rose to her feet, raising her hands placatingly. “I’m not here for a fight, B. I just wanted to make sure Tara got home safe.”
“Well, mission accomplished. Why the hell are you still here?”
“I just wanted a chance to talk to you, B.”
Buffy let out a bitter laugh. Then, her face contorted with a mix of anger and disbelief. “Talk? You want to talk to me now, after everything you’ve done? I don’t buy it, Faith. And how did you even get here? When did you break out of prison?”
“I didn’t break out, Buffy. They let me go,” Faith replied calmly, but her eyes held a hint of pain and regret.
“Liar!” Buffy screamed, taking a threatening step towards her former ally. But Dawn intervened, springing from the couch and standing between them.
“Buffy, stop. Give her a chance to explain. She saved Tara; we owe her that much.”
“Thanks, Lil’ B,”
“Shut up, Faith. I don’t want you here any more than Buffy does. Especially after what you did to her and Riley. Now explain why they let you out of prison?”
Faith shifted uncomfortably before finally revealing the truth. “They let me out because I’m dead,” she said nonchalantly, not realizing the gravity of those words uttered in the presence of an agitated Slayer like Buffy. Before Faith could react, Buffy had lunged at her with a wooden stake.
Faith’s eyes widened when she realized Buffy had stopped just inches from driving the sharp end through her chest. “Impressive move, B. Where were you hiding, Mr. Pointy, anyway? And how did you manage to stop so abruptly?” Faith asked, surprised by Buffy’s swift actions.
“I didn’t,” Buffy replied angrily as she turned to look at Willow, sitting on the couch with her arm outstretched, using magic to keep Buffy from harming Faith.
“Buffy… she’s not a vampire,” Willow pleaded with a strained voice. “Think about it. How could she have gotten past the threshold without an invitation if she was? You’re letting your anger cloud your judgment. Tara no longer lives here; she couldn’t have invited Faith into the house. And if she was something else, the wards around the house would have kept her out as well. She’s still human.”
Slowly, realization dawned in Buffy’s eyes. She had almost made the same mistake Faith had made when she accidentally staked Allan Finch. Her will to fight drained out of her, and she put away the stake. Without a word, she walked out of the room.
Dawn turned to face Faith with a mix of anger and determination. “Well, what are you waiting for? This is your chance to talk to her. Go!”
Faith’s heart pounded as she followed Dawn’s instructions to join Buffy outside. But once they were alone, Buffy refused to acknowledge Faith’s presence, standing on the front lawn with an icy indifference that cut deep into Faith’s soul.
Faith cautiously approached her former ally, when she took a seat on the porch steps outside the house. Faith’s mind raced with thoughts of how to broach the conversation she needed to have. Still, every time she looked at Buffy’s distant and guarded expression, she felt a tremor of fear shoot through her body. They used to be closer than sisters, sharing secrets and moments that no one else knew about. It felt like a lifetime ago now. How could they possibly mend the rift that had formed between them over years of animosity? Despite Faith’s desire for reconciliation, things weren’t the same anymore. Even Buffy wasn’t the same; she used to be so different - softer, warmer - but now she was hardened and closed off, with a haunted look in her eyes that mirrored Faith’s own. Angel’s instincts had been right.
“Buffy,” Faith started tentatively.
“Before your lips start moving, remember what I said to you about apologizing two years ago?” Buffy interrupted without looking at her.
“I remember, but I don’t care. I’m truly sorry about your mom, B.”
There was no reaction from Buffy; it was just a deafening silence that made Faith feel like she was talking to a stone. But she pressed on, determined to make amends. “She was a hell of a mom.”
Finally, in a hushed whisper, Buffy spoke up with a quiet intensity. “The best.”
“You know, when we first started hanging out, your mom used to come by my motel room and drop off leftovers for me.” Faith smiled, “She wanted to make sure I was eating right…”
“What do you want from me, Faith?” Buffy interrupted, frustration evident in her words. “What could I possibly give you that you haven’t already taken?”
“Buffy, I’m just here to apologize and—”
“I told you what I’d do if you even tried to apologize to me!” Buffy’s voice rose, anger swelling in the petite blonde once again.
“And I’m willing to take that chance. This is something I have to do. I’m just asking that you allow me to say what I need to before we start fighting.”
“Why should I do that, Faith?”
“Please, Buffy. I know I don’t deserve it, but if you ever cared for me, give me just one conversation.” Faith pleaded, and then she saw a small glimmer of hope. There was unexpected uncertainty in Buffy’s eyes. But then the steel wall Buffy had created between them came back up.
“You’re right, Faith, you don’t deserve it. There was a time when I would have given anything for you to tell me why you hurt me, why you chose to betray me, for you to ask me to help you, for you to come back to…” Buffy hesitated, biting down on what she wanted to say before continuing, “the light.”
Faith fought back tears. This is what she feared. This had been her only chance to tell Buffy the truth, hoping she might have the opportunity to make things right. Faith let out a sob she didn’t know she was holding.
Buffy looked away from her former friend, and a twinge of guilt tugged at her as she heard Faith sob. But at the same time, she was filled with anger - angry at herself for caring for Faith yet again. She had promised herself that she would never go down this road with Faith again, yet here they were. Faith in pain and she feeling guilty for hurting her. Buffy’s emotions were in turmoil as she tried to sort out her complicated feelings towards her sister Slayer. All Buffy was certain of was that she tired of this repeating cycle of pain between them.
“Why are you doing this, Faith? What’s in it for you?”
Faith’s sobs racked her body as she wiped away the tears streaming down her face. “Nothing,” she choked out, her voice dripping with self-loathing. “I’m pathetic, a failure. I can’t even speak without blubbering like a weak little girl.” The weight of Buffy’s death had crushed Faith; her heart shattered into a million pieces. Now she was back, and there was no way to mend this rift she had caused with her petty jealousy and self-loathing. How could she have let this happen? “You don’t understand, Buffy; ever since you died last year … It’s felt like a knife twisting in my gut, never-ending pain and regret.”
“Is that it? Apologizing will help ease your pain? Make you feel less guilty? Easier for you to forget what you did? You say I’m sorry, and we hug and move on? Why should I help you with that, Faith? What would you do if I said no and told you to leave?”
“If you ask me to leave, I will. And I won’t come back, I promise, B. I just want a chance to make things right again.”
”Nothing will ever be right between us ever again.”
”There has to be a way!” Faith cried out. Her voice strained with emotion as she saw more walls come up between Buffy and her.
“Okay then... This is how you make things right, Faith. Leave. Go back to L.A. with Angel and never haunt my doorstep again.”
Faith closed her eyes at those words. She reined her tears, controlling herself. She’d tried, and she’d failed. Faith opened her eyes and looked back at Buffy, who gave her a cold, unreadable stare. Faith nodded in acceptance; she stood up and turned to retrieve her bag from the living room couch, only to crash into Dawn.
“Buffy,” Dawn’s small voice called her sister, who stood by the front steps. “I need to say something.”
The teen grabbed Faith’s arm as she tried to walk past her. “Faith, wait, how are you planning on leaving?”
“The same way I got here, by bus,” Faith replied.
“Buffy, it’s late, and I’m pretty sure the last bus has gone.”
Faith gave Dawn a sad smile, “It’s okay, squirt. I can spend the night at the bus depot and catch the first bus out or leave now on foot. If I remember, there’s another stop about 20 miles out of town; I can catch the bus there tomorrow.”
To Faith’s surprise, Dawn walked over and planted herself before her sister, crossing her arms and giving Buffy “The Look.” Faith remembered it well. It was the one the young brunette always pulled to get what she wanted; both Joyce and Buffy always caved under that look.
“So, that’s what we are doing, Buffy? We thank Faith for saving Tara from being raped by throwing her out of town?”
“Would you rather I tried to choke the life out of her again? If you ask me, she’s getting off easy for what…”
“She did to you. I got that part. But how is this making it better? I believe she really does want to change. How many times did you cry when you broke up?”
“Dawn, it was never like that between...”
Faith was surprised to see the teen wave a dismissive hand that surprised Buffy.
“Right. So, tell me, how deep is the water in the river you’re standing in?”
“What?”
“Denial,” Dawn said in a sing-song voice. “Stop being an obstinate jerk. Isn’t that what you always wanted in the beginning? Before you two idiots made it impossible for you to be what you wanted to be?”
Buffy’s face contorted in confusion, “What does that even mean?”
“That’s not for me to figure out, butthead, you two are the grownups, but don’t you think you both deserve a chance to find out. Look, I’m not denying she did some really horrible things, but so did Angel as Angelous and if Faith hadn’t been there in the beginning, you would have gone right back to him. So don’t give me that ‘she’s a killer’ line of B.S.”
“It’s different.”
“Really? How so? Explain it to me. How does Angel get a pass, but Faith doesn’t.”
“I…uh…” Buffy stammered at a loss for words.
“Yeah, that’s what I thought—you can’t because your heart always had a blindspot with Faith, never knew what to make of her. If you did, you’d have to face many things you were in denial about when it came to her. I know I saw all of it from the outside. The monks added the memories of our time with Faith, too.”
“Monks?”
“Quiet, Faith,” Dawn ordered.
“Buffy,” Dawn’s voice lowered to almost a whisper as she gently took hold of her sister’s hands. “If you turn her down now, in your heart, you will regret it for the rest of your life, and you know it.”
But Buffy remained stoic, her resolve dwindling with the thought of how things had been with Faith when it had all been good between them. Yet her facade didn’t waver, not even a hint of the turmoil inside her.
“Okay, then, I’ve said my piece. Do what you think is right. Just make sure it’s something you can live with,” Dawn was about to turn to leave when she remembered something. “Oh yeah, stop being an ass!” And with that, she gave Buffy a little kick to the shin.
“Ow! Dawnie, what the hell?”
Satisfied, the young teen spun on her heels and walked back inside.
Faith just stared at Buffy, who seemed to be having an internal debate on how to proceed. Faith wasn’t lying when she said she was willing to walk, but she earnestly hoped it wouldn’t come to that. She saw Buffy sigh and steel herself for whatever her decided fate would be.
“Arrgghhh! Okay, fine! I’m not going to make you walk, Faith. But I don’t trust you enough to leave you alone for the night. And since I don’t plan on spending the night with you at the bus stop... I guess you’ll be spending the night here. We might as well be productive because I doubt I will sleep much anyway. How long has it been since you last went on patrol, Faith?”
Faith’s head spun at the sudden change. “I don’t know…I guess not in a long time.”
“Alright... come with me.”
“Where are we going?”
“Patrol. I didn’t get a chance. Especially with everything that’s happened tonight. Might as well get to it, and I guess we can have that talk you wanted.”
Buffy had just handed Faith an opening. That meant there was still a chance, and Faith wouldn’t waste it. She dropped her bag and followed Buffy into the night.
*****
VII
The two Slayers walked down a deserted street, their bodies tense and wary. Faith kept her distance while Buffy struggled with the awkward silence between them.
“So, are you going to talk or just keep staring at me?” Buffy finally broke the ice.
Faith laughed nervously and ran a hand through her hair. “Sorry, it’s just...we haven’t been this close without trying to kill each other in a long time.”
Buffy shrugged off the tension and tried to make light of the situation. “Well, the night is still young.”
But Faith grew quiet again, her expression serious as she wrestled with her thoughts. Finally, she spoke up. “Damn! Why is this so hard? I’ve rehearsed this conversation repeatedly in my head, but now that I’m here, I don’t even know where the hell to begin.”
“I’ll start then,” Buffy’s voice was low and trembling with pain. “Why Faith? How could you betray me like that? I’ve never felt so violated in my entire life.”
“Fuck, B, we are going to go there right out of the gate…”
”Answer the question, Faith.”
“No, that’s not an excuse! I know now how wrong I was and how messed up everything I did to you was. Those things... you can’t just take them back, okay.” Faith’s voice was steady, but her eyes betrayed the storm inside. She tried to keep her composure, resisting the instinct to lash out in the face of Buffy’s anger. Her body, conditioned by years of survival, wanted to react to Buffy’s aggression—even if it was warranted. She took a deep, calming breath. The few years she had spent in prison had taught her to control her rage.
Buffy stared at Faith, realizing that she was the one threatening violence, not Faith. In fact, Faith was the calmer of the two. The realization tempered the petite blonde’s anger. Without a word, she unclenched her fists and resumed walking down the street toward the cemetery.
“Look, I’m trying to explain what I felt.” Faith said as she caught up to the blonde. “You tried to kill me, remember? Me. Your supposed sister Slayer. I woke up from a coma, Buffy. Months after you stabbed me and I threw myself off a building. And surprise—I was still alive. Abandoned and alone in some sterile hospital room. That was when it hit me just how little my life mattered. No one cared whether I lived or died. And yeah, I knew deep down it was my fault you cared so little for me, but I still thought... maybe, somehow, a part of you would want to help me.” Faith let out a bitter laugh. “Stupid, right? But hey, us Lehane girls are gluttons for punishment.”
“So, first thing I did when I broke out was wander around town, looking for you. I was lost, and I just wanted to see something—someone—familiar. And when I finally found you, there you were. With your new beefstick.” Faith’s hands curled into fists, her knuckles popping as she struggled to contain her emotions. “You were willing to end my life for Angel—the love of your existence—but just months later, you’d already moved on to some new boy toy. It stung, B. It really did. It was like you’d driven that dagger back into my guts all over again.
“I wanted you to feel as hurt and betrayed as I did.” Faith’s voice cracked, her vulnerability slipping through. “The body switch wasn’t planned, believe me. I was just as shocked as you when it happened. But when the cops came and took you away... I went along with it. Because for once in my life, I had a taste of the freedom and happiness that had always been out of reach for me. And I was going to savor every moment before we inevitably switched back. Just... have a little bit of happiness before I finally ended it.”
“End it?” Buffy stopped abruptly in the middle of the desolate street, her eyes wide with disbelief and confusion. Her thoughts racing. Was Faith really insinuating she had planned to kill herself? I couldn’t have heard right... could I?
“Yes, B,” Faith said quietly, her voice laced with pain. “I wasn’t planning on sticking around. I had no one. The Mayor was gone. My parents sure as hell didn’t want me. And when I killed Allan Finch…” Her voice faltered for a moment before she forced herself to continue. “I knew I was in deep shit. It was an accident. I didn’t mean to do it. I wanted to take it back, but I didn’t know how. And I was so damn hardwired to pretend nothing ever got to me that I just... said something stupid instead.”
Faith let out a bitter laugh, running a frustrated hand through her dark brown locks. “And then, the one person I thought I could remotely trust—someone I thought might understand or help me—just pointed her finger at me and called me a murderer.” Her voice cracked as the memory of that moment hit her like a punch to the gut.
“You did try to frame me if you recall.”
Faith’s memories flooded back to her, and she wished desperately that they hadn’t. “I know, B. I screwed up big time. But I was in full-blown panic mode. I was scared of the council. It was like they were just waiting for me to fail, and then I did. I knew if it was you Giles would come to your rescue. I had no one. The hell of it is before all of it went down, I was really trying to be good. I swear, I was doing my best. But by the time when we switched bodies, I was so far gone I gave up all hope of ever going back to being good. I hated my life. I hated myself. I became a monster and I just wanted it to end, but I was too much of a coward to do it myself, so I ran, hoping if I caused enough chaos, some cop might put me out of my misery.” She paused, closing her eyes briefly, before continuing with a shaky breath.
“I ended up in L.A., spiraling deeper into anger and despair. But then those evil lawyers found me. They came with an offer - cash in exchange for killing Angel. Deep down, I knew they were playing me, but at that point, I felt like I had nothing left to lose. If I played my cards right, he’d kill me, and I could finally be free from this darkness consuming me.” Her hands shook as she remembered her desperation in those dark moments. “But things spiraled out of control. When even kidnapping Wesley couldn’t get Angel to fight me, I knew how lost I truly was.” She looked up at Buffy with tears in her eyes.
“That night in the alley when Angel and I fought...I begged him to kill me. To end my suffering and the pain I had caused others.” Her voice broke as she replayed the moment in her mind. “But he refused. Instead, he tried to help me. He told me no matter how far I had strayed, there was always a way back to the light. I just needed to fight for that goodness that was still within me. That despite everything I had done, I could find redemption.”
The wind picked up, sending a chill through Faith’s body and causing her to shiver. She wished she still had her leather jacket, but Tara was still wearing it back at the house. Feeling weary, Faith sat on the curb, drained from the emotional turmoil she was experiencing once again. “Then you came, Buffy. I’ve never seen you so angry. I realized I had pushed you that far. I was so ashamed. I just wanted to run as far as possible where no one would ever find me. Then, the Council attacked. I knew that if I wanted to run, that would have been my chance. But I couldn’t…because of what you said when you first saw me at Angel’s. You said I had to go to jail, so I figured if I couldn’t tell you how sorry I was, I could at least start showing you. So I turned myself in.”
Buffy began to pace back and forth in front of Faith, her hands moving frantically as she spoke. “Wait, I don’t understand. You, Miss Badass, ‘I don’t care about anything or anyone’—you wanted to kill yourself?”
“Yes, Buffy. Is it really so hard to understand? It was all a front. I did care. Of course I cared. I wanted someone to care about me for once in my miserable life.” Faith wiped at her face with her forearm trying to get out what she had wanted to admit aloud so long. “Most of all Buffy…I wanted YOU to care.”
With a guttural growl, Buffy lunged at Faith, their bodies colliding in a violent clash of emotions, and Buffy took a mounted position. Faith thought Buffy was going to strike her, but instead, she screamed, “I did care, Faith! I tried to show you that, over and over but you were too blind to see it!” Her words were filled with hurt and betrayal as tears streamed down her face. She would have given her all to save Faith, and she hated herself even more for nearly killing her. Even with everything that went down between them, she still had nightmares of that night on the rooftop.
Faith’s eyes blazed with anger as she pushed up with her hips, bucking Buffy off before standing to confront her. For the first time that night, she refused to back down, letting her anger fuel the courage she needed to speak. “Well, it never felt like that from this end. You want to talk about trust? Fine. Let’s talk about how you ran hot and cold with me. Some days, it was just the two of us—laughing, and you making me feel special. And then there were days when you wouldn’t even bother to call or check in on me. Hell, you even acted differently when we were around your friends!”
“That’s because you never made it easy for me, Faith! Breaking through that tough-girl act and getting you to open up about anything was like pulling teeth,” Buffy shot back, her voice trembling with frustration. “And in case you’ve forgotten, I wasn’t exactly coasting through life, either. I was a teenager—a senior in high school—trying to juggle more responsibility than anyone should ever have to. My relationship with my friends was falling apart, my mom was constantly worried about me, and I had no clue what my future was supposed to look like. And then there was you. You and me, and whatever the hell was happening between us. It was confusing as hell! Damn it, Faith, you could’ve let me in! You could’ve just told me how you felt instead of shutting me out and pushing me away. Maybe—just maybe—I could’ve done better if I’d known!”
“That’s because opening up doesn’t come easy for me,” Faith seethed, her voice thick with emotion. “Growing up, I learned that emotional attachments make you vulnerable. People always leave once you start to trust them. That lesson has been ingrained in me since I could talk. But with you... I wanted it to be different. Remember all the things I shared when we were alone together? When no one else was around to see?”
“You mean like when you told me about your mom and dad?” Buffy asked softly, regret pulled at her heart.
“Yes,” Faith replied, her words sharp and biting. “I never told anyone else about my mom’s alcoholism or how my dad abandoned us because of his debts. I trusted you more than anyone else. Then Xander tells me Angel wasn’t dead. That you’d been hiding him all along. You lied to me, Buffy. Right to my face. I may not have agreed with your choice, but I would’ve had your back. I would’ve supported you. But you didn’t trust me enough to tell me the truth. I felt...betrayed, like I didn’t matter. You didn’t have enough faith in me.”
The silence between them was suffocating, thick with unspoken words and raw emotions. Buffy stood frozen, her heart pounding. Faith wasn’t wrong. She had lied. She had betrayed their friendship. Faith’s voice broke through, her tone raw and pleading.
"Why didn’t you trust me? Why did you keep that from me?"
Buffy swallowed hard, the weight of her guilt pressing on her chest. She wanted to speak, but the words felt too heavy, too tangled to say. She opened her mouth, and took a deep breath before answering. "I couldn’t tell you, Faith. At least not right away. I needed time to sort out my own feelings. Everything was so complicated. I had finally made peace with what happened with Angel. I thought I’d moved on, accepted that he wasn’t meant to be in my life anymore. That as a Slayer I would always be alone. But then you came into my world. You were fierce and wild, and for the first time, I felt like I wasn’t carrying the weight of this destiny alone. There was something about you, this connection between us that I couldn’t explain, but I couldn’t ignore it either. You got under my skin, Faith. You made me question everything I thought I knew about myself and being a Slayer. And then, before I could even figure out what any of it meant, fate intervened and brought Angel back to me. It felt like the universe was testing me, pulling me in every direction. I didn’t know how to handle it, so I froze. I didn’t know how to tell you what I was feeling—because l frankly did not know myself." As she spoke, Buffy felt an old wound being torn open once again. It pained her to explain herself to Faith, knowing that she had hurt her.
"I tried to reach out and make things right... After our fight, I went to your motel. There was so much I wanted to talk about, so much I wanted to apologize for. You’re right, I should have trusted you to have my back." Buffy’s voice cracked, her tears falling freely now. "There’s so much I wish I could have said that day... but I didn’t. For that I’m sorry, Faith. I really am." She reached out a hand towards the younger girl but quickly pulled it back, trying to rebuild the emotional wall between them. But it was too late - the dam had already broken.
"I know," Faith whispered, her voice mirroring Buffy's raw emotion. "I think about that day too, Buffy. That memory has been haunting me ever since Angel told me you died. Every word, every action... all I can think about is 'what if?' God, I was so stupid. I’ve been stuck in that hotel room for a year, consumed by pain and regret over what could have been. If only I could turn back time... change what happened." She paused, the weight of her own thoughts sinking in, knowing there was no way to undo the past. "I never wanted this between us."
"Then why did you shut me out? All you had to do was given me some sort of sign."
Faith closed her eyes in defeat, finally confessing what she had kept hidden for so long. "Because...I was jealous."
"Jealous?" Buffy repeated, confused by Faith's words.
"Yes, Buffy. I was jealous of your love for Angel...jealous of what you two had and...most of all, I couldn't stand the thought of sharing you with anyone else." T heir eyes locked in a wordless exchange of emotions as Faith forced herself to press on with her confession. "I didn't know how to handle it. I wanted you, all of you, Buffy and I pushed you away because I couldn't stand feeling like I wasn't enough."
"Why would you..." Buffy started to say, but as the words tumbled from her lips, everything clicked into place in her mind. Memories of their time together, their private moments, the glances that lingered longer than they should have, the way Faith's touch always seemed to carry a certain weight—it all rushed to the forefront. Buffy felt a wave of realization, a truth she had either been too blind or too afraid to acknowledge.
She had just said it herself—There was something about you, this connection between us that I couldn’t explain, but I couldn’t ignore it either. And now, in this moment, she saw it all so clearly. Faith had felt it too, but for her, it was more than just a bond of sisterhood. It was deeper, more complicated... more intimate.
"You were... You were in love with me?" Buffy’s voice trembled as she spoke the words aloud, the sheer magnitude of her realization pressing down on her chest. The question lingered in the air between them.
Faith buried her face in her hands, unable to make eye contact with Buffy and her emerald eyes as she confessed, "Yes, B. I have been for so long. I thought I made it obvious that I was attracted to you from the beginning. I even asked you out to the homecoming dance, stupidly thinking you might say yes." Buffy stood speechless, trying to process everything. She remembered the dance and how Faith had asked her out, but she had never realized the true reason behind it. Now, it was so obvious! Why hadn’t she seen it then?
You got under my skin, Faith. You made me question everything I thought I knew about myself, Buffy’s words echoed in her thoughts.
"I knew you weren't into girls, but I couldn't help myself. When you said yes, I was so fucking happy and excited. I ran out that day and used all my remaining money to buy a dress, hoping to impress you. But you never noticed, too caught up in your own problems. And your friends... they made it worse. They ruined my night with you—they put Cordelia in that limo, ignoring my feelings like I had no say in the decision. They never thought about what a night at a school dance would mean to a girl like me. It hurt, B. It really hurt. That's why I distanced myself from you at first. I didn't want to get hurt again. But you wouldn’t have it—you pulled me back into your circle. I moved past my hurt feelings, and for a while, things were good between us, remember? Then you chose Angel over me. Someone who I saw as evil and vile. It shattered me. That's when that bitch Gwendolyn Post showed up. It didn't take much for her to manipulate me. She had me pegged from the start—knew exactly what buttons to push, what levers to pull. I practically let myself be tricked into thinking Angel wanted the Glove of Myhnegon because, deep down, I just wanted to hurt him for having your heart."
There was something about you—this connection between us that I couldn't explain. Buffy stood there, shock settling in, realizing for the first time what that bond she had felt truly was. "You were in love with me."
"Is that all you heard?" Faith asked, a slight amusement tinged with sadness in her voice. "Yes, Buffy, and I still am. Even after everything we've done to each other, those feelings never went away. They've just been twisted and buried. That's how self-destructive I am. But it doesn't matter now. I've finally accepted that you never felt the same way about me."
You made me question everything I thought I knew about myself.
"You were always into guys, and I was... damaged," Faith continued bitterly. "But before it's too late, I wanted you to finally know the truth. I am in love with you, Buffy Summers. You were, and will always be, the only one I’ve ever felt that way about."
Buffy blinked, stunned not only by Faith’s confession but by the feelings stirring within her own chest.
Buffy’s eyes locked onto Faith’s, the air between them thick with emotion, like a storm about to break.
“Damn it, B, say something…”
Tears welled up in Buffy’s eyes as she finally found her voice. “What do you want me to say, Faith? That now that I know why you hurt me, all is forgiven?” Her voice cracked, emotion thick in every word. She felt just as confused now as she had back then. “I didn’t even know you were gay. I thought your flirting was just... you being... you.”
“I’m not gay,” Faith stated firmly, her gaze fixed on Buffy.
“But you just said...” she trailed off, trying to make sense of Faith’s words.
Faith stepped forward closing the distance between them. “That I was in love with you, Buffy, I’ve never felt that way about anyone else. It had nothing to do with you being a woman but everything to do with who you are and how alive I felt when we were good together.”
Faith’s expression softened as she met Buffy’s eyes, her own eyes glistening with unshed tears. “I know, B. I never made it easy for you to understand. Hell, I never made it easy for me to understand. I didn’t know how to make you see what was going on inside me. But now you know... I was just trying to find some way to be with you. But I fucked that up, like I’ve fucked everything else up.”
Buffy swallowed hard, the knot in her throat making it almost impossible to speak. The admission hurt her as much as it hurt Faith. She knew how deep the scars ran for both of them, but it still stung. “Faith… I don’t even know what to feel.”
Faith’s hands shook as she reached to caress Buffy’s face but stopped just short. “You don’t have to feel anything, B. I’m not asking for anything in return. I just needed you to know the truth. I needed you to understand why I did what I did, and why I pushed you away even when I wanted you so badly.”
“I’ve always thought you hated me,” she whispered.
“I don’t hate you, B. I never have,” Faith’s voice cracked slightly. “I was furious at you, definitely. Even when we were at each other’s throats, I didn’t hate you. I hated myself for what I am. You... you just reminded me of how much I wasn’t worth loving. So I did what my father and mother did—what I was conditioned to do—lash out at the one person I loved. You were perfect, Buffy.”
“Perfect?” Buffy spat, her voice dripping with venom. “You actually thought I was perfect? Do you even know what that word means?” she screamed, tears streaming down her flushed cheeks. It was her turn to let out everything she’d been holding inside. “If I’m so perfect, then why am I so miserable? So alone? Why does everyone I care about leave me behind?”
“Wait... Beefstick? He left you too?” Faith’s confusion quickly turned to realization. “Oh God, did he leave because of me?” The weight of guilt hit her like a ton of bricks.
“No, Faith,” Buffy said, wiping away her tears with angry swipes. “Riley left all on his own accord. Said I wasn’t emotionally there. Which, apparently is something I do. Hell I did to you too, and I hadn’t even been aware we were dating.” Her words were bitter, laced with frustration. “I hurt him, and I hurt you. I even killed Angel.”
“That’s not fair, B. He was evil at the time and he'd just started an apocalypse. You had no choice.”
“No, Faith. He’d changed back. He had his soul. When I looked into his eyes, it was him. But I made the hard choice— like I always do— and I killed him.” Buffy’s voice wavered, heavy with self-loathing. “I’m damaged goods, Faith. You should’ve known better than to care about someone cursed to lose everyone who claims to love her.”
Her voice cracked as she continued, the pain evident in every word. “Don’t you see? People who love me always pay the price. In the end, everyone who loves me eventually leaves. I’m honestly surprised you haven’t figured it out yet, Faith. All of us Chosen ones die alone—that’s the one thing all Slayers share. It’s destiny’s cruel little thank-you for keeping the world safe.”
“Buffy, I…”
Buffy took a deep breath, steadying herself. “When I accepted that I had to die, I was at peace. It wasn’t just about saving Dawn—it was about finally letting go. But then the Powers That Be decided I didn’t get to rest. So here I am, Faith. Just... coping.”
“But you’re alive and surrounded by friends,” Faith said, her voice unsure, grasping for the right words.
“Don’t you think I know that? But it hasn’t been easy adjusting after being in…” Buffy sobbed, “Heaven. It was Heaven Faith. I’d earned my place in it. I was happy, at peace, then….”
Faith took a hesitant step toward the petite blonde but stopped short when Buffy raised a hand, silently asking her to keep her distance. For a long moment, the air between them was thick with unspoken words. Buffy’s shoulders rose and fell as she worked to steady her breathing, forcing back the tide of emotions threatening to overwhelm her.
After a minute, Buffy seemed to regain her composure. Part of the wall she had carefully built to shield her emotions was back in place. Her face was serious now, thoughtful, though a flicker of vulnerability remained in her eyes.
Buffy let her gaze fall to the floor as she spoke, her voice quiet but steady. “What I’ve come to realize—especially after everything I’ve been through these past few months is— how much our pain and baggage can drive us to make choices we regret. I didn’t understand back then how much you were hurting, Faith. I was too wrapped up in my own problems to notice.” She paused, a shadow of regret crossing her features. “But that doesn’t mean your feelings wouldn’t have mattered to me—if you’d trusted me enough to share them.”
“I know, Buffy. I wish I had. You were everything to me, B. I wanted so badly for you to see me, to care. And when you didn’t...” She trailed off, tears pooling in her dark eyes. “It felt like my whole world was falling apart. I was so lost, and I didn’t know how to deal with it. All I knew how to do was fight. Even if it meant hurting the one person I...” She swallowed hard, her voice dropping to a whisper. “The one person I loved most. I never wanted to hurt you, B. I just... I didn’t know how to handle everything. But I never wanted this. I never wanted us to end up like this. And now I... I don’t know how to fix this, I don’t even know if I can.”
Buffy took a step closer and gently wiped away some of the makeup staining Faith’s cheek, her voice barely a whisper. “Maybe it’s not about fixing it. Maybe it’s about accepting it for what it is... and seeing what happens next.”
******
VIII
The moon cast a soft, eerie glow over the cemetery, illuminating the weathered gravestones and the gnarled branches of the surrounding trees. Shady Hill Cemetery—a familiar battleground—felt different tonight. Tonight, the cemetery felt less like a battlefield and more like a place of reflection.
Patrol had been uneventful, and now the two Slayers walked side by side in peaceful silence, each lost in their thoughts, processing the conversation that had unfolded earlier. For the first time in what felt like forever, their burdens seemed a little lighter. Faith couldn’t remember the last time she’d felt so light, while Buffy found herself breathing a little easier, as though some of the suffocating pressure she’d endured since her resurrection had finally eased.Buffy realized that some of the weight she’d been carrying since her resurrection didn’t feel quite so crushing anymore. She was still hurting, still raw, and she wasn’t whole—not yet, maybe not ever—but opening up had been a start. And it hadn’t been to Tara, or Giles, or even Xander, as she might have once expected. Instead, it had been Faith—her rival, her mirror, and now, perhaps, something more complicated. The irony wasn’t lost on her. There was something poetic about sharing this moment with another Slayer, someone who understood her pain in a way no one else ever truly could.
For now, the tension between them felt muted, replaced by an odd, fragile harmony. Faith wasn’t about to let it slip through her fingers like so many other had.
“This place brings back memories,” Faith said, her voice warm with nostalgia. “We used to patrol here all the time back in the day.”
Buffy glanced at her, a faint smile tugging at her lips. “I remember. You always liked this cemetery because it meant you could swing by Big Ears Records after patrol.”
Faith laughed softly, the sound breaking through the stillness. “What can I say? Dust a few vamps, grab some vinyl—felt like a fair trade to me.” A grin spread across the dark Slayer’s face, lighting her features with an expression Buffy hadn’t seen in years. “And I remember a certain short blonde who couldn’t patrol here without first hitting up the guy at Maple Court cinema for popcorn.”
“Hey, I got hungry waiting for the dead to show up,” Buffy shot back, a playful shove accompanying her defense. “And I shared, didn’t I?”
Faith snorted, crossing her arms with mock indignation. “You did not. I distinctly remember having to swipe some when you weren’t looking.”
Buffy arched an eyebrow, smirking. “Well, it kept you sharp. Consider it part of your Slayer training.”
They laughed, and for a moment, they weren’t adversaries or uneasy allies. They were just two women reminiscing, sharing the kind of memories that felt like tiny treasures in the quiet night—keeping the ghosts of their pasts standing a little farther away, if only for a moment. Then, the moment passed, and both young women returned to their quiet patrol through the cemetery, their footsteps soft against the gravel paths and grassy patches.
The occasional rustle of leaves or the scurry of nocturnal animals broke the serene atmosphere as the two Slayers moved through the shadowed rows of graves and looming mausoleums. Despite the peaceful appearance, they both knew this was usually a hotspot for vampire activity. Tonight, however, it seemed the undead had decided to take the night off. Still, both women remained vigilant, their eyes scanning the dark corners and their senses on high alert. Even on a quiet night, danger was never far away in their line of work.
“Guess we should have hit up Restfield first,” Faith remarked as they walked. “There’s usually more action there.”
“That’s because this place is where we buried The Master’s bones. It kind of sent a message.”
“No shit?”
“Yup. That’s why Restfield Cemetery got so busy.”
Faith smirked. “Yeah, as I recall, that was your favorite place to let off some steam.”
Buffy shook her head. “I’m avoiding Restfield for a while. Someone patrols it for me as a favor, but I have no desire to bump into him if I can help it.”
Faith raised an eyebrow, curious about who would do that kind of favor for Buffy but decided not to push, not wanting to upset their uneasy truce.
“Restfield is where Spike’s crypt is,” Buffy explained, her voice tinged with discomfort. “Things got... weird between us, which is why I’d rather steer clear.”
Faith’s eyes widened. “Weird? What happened?” she asked, unable to hide her curiosity.
Buffy gave her a look that said everything without saying anything.
“No fucking way,” Faith exclaimed. “You and William the Bloody?”
Buffy blushed, her embarrassment evident. “It’s not like that, okay? There were...extenuating circumstances.”
Faith stared at her in disbelief. Buffy—the girl who used to blush at the mention of the word horny—had hooked up with another vampire.
“Damn, B,” Faith muttered. “Why is it always vampires with you?”
“I don’t mean for it to happen…it’s not like I go cruising for some vampire action—at least not That kind of action— let’s just drop it. How about we focus on slaying instead?”
“Hey, it’s not like the squirt’s around, we are adults.” Faith smirked. “And don’t change the subject. How on earth did you and him...?” She trailed off, unable to finish the thought.
“It’s a long story,” Buffy sighed. “It involved a singing demon and a lot of impromptu Broadway dance numbers.”
Faith grinned. “Now I have to know.”
“Maybe one day I’ll tell you. But not today.”
“Fine, keep your secrets, B. But seriously, I can’t believe you hooked up with Spike. I get that for an undead guy, he’s got that Billy Idol, punk-rock thing going on that makes girls panties drop, but he’s not your type—or at least, I thought he wasn’t.” Faith teased as they strolled between two towering crypts.
“Oh, you’d be surprised,” Buffy muttered dryly, then added with a glance at Faith, “My love life seems to revolve around bad boys... and bad girls, apparently.”
Faith’s smile widened, her tongue slowly grazing the edge of her canine—not deliberately, yet the motion carried an unmistakable sensuality. Buffy felt her stomach twist in a way that made her heart race, and she quickly averted her gaze. It wasn’t discomfort—not exactly. It was something deeper, warmer, and far more disconcerting.
Faith noticed, her grin turning slightly wicked. “Stop that,” Buffy snapped, her tone sharper than she intended.
“Stop what, B?” Faith replied, feigning innocence, though the mirth in her amber eyes was unmistakable.
“Oh, you know what. All that flirting. You used to do it incessantly back then just to make me uncomfortable.”
Faith smirked, her voice low and teasing. “And are you uncomfortable, B?”
“Seriously, give a mouse a cookie,” Buffy muttered, shaking her head.
“Mouse?” Faith asked, her brows lifting in mock confusion.
“Yeah. I give you a clean slate with me, offer you a chance to slowly reconnect, and you’re already flirting.”
“Can’t help it, B. I’ve been locked up for a while,” Faith said, her grin unapologetic.
Buffy rolled her eyes. “I’d forgotten how insufferable you could be, you know that? But speaking of prison—what did you mean when you said they let you go because you’re technically dead?”
Faith chuckled, bumping Buffy’s shoulder lightly as they walked. “Easy. It’s because Faith Lehane is officially dead. Like dead-dead, not metaphorically.”
Buffy raised an eyebrow. “Wait, what?”
Faith sighed, her tone growing more serious. “It’s a long story, but since it doesn’t have Broadway numbers like yours, I’ll give you the Cliff Notes version. After I found out what happened to you, they stuck me in solitary for a while—for my own safety and everyone else’s. I spent some time in ‘the Hole’ before they decided I was stable enough for general pop. Things were quiet for a bit. Then, one day, some chick I didn’t even know tried to shank me in the yard. I let her off easy—figured maybe she was desperate. But a few weeks later, it happened again, this time in the showers. That one? She needed dental work after.”
Buffy blinked, a mix of concern and curiosity flickering in her eyes.
“At first, I thought it was random,” Faith continued. “But it kept happening. Women I’d never had beef with risking monumental beatdowns just to come at me. That’s when I realized—someone out here wanted me dead. Figured it had to be tied to the fact there was only one other Slayer left.”
Buffy nodded, her expression softening slightly. “And let me guess—you made it through because you’re stubborn.”
“That,” Faith said with a smirk, “and because I’m damn good at surviving.”
“Sounds like something Travers would orchestrate,” Buffy scoffed, her disdain for the Council evident. They had never forgiven her for cutting ties, and Faith’s death would have conveniently paved the way for one of their more pliable potentials to be called—someone easier to control.
“Well, whoever it was... they’re still out there,” Faith continued grimly. “A few weeks ago, someone tried again. Some guard in the prison was paid to smuggle in a tribal mask that housed a zombie demon capable of raising the dead.”
“Wait, I know that mask! I thought I destroyed it,” Buffy interjected, her brow furrowing.
“Apparently, there was more than one and each one has a different flavor of zombie.” Faith nodded with a bitter smirk. “Found that out the hard way. One minute, it’s a normal day, and the next, one of the inmates gets shanked in a gang fight. Only she didn’t stay dead. She got back up and started infecting people—guards, inmates, anyone in her path. Total Dawn of the Dead vibes.”
Buffy crossed her arms. “And then all hell broke loose?”
“Pretty much. I was barely holding my own, fighting off hordes of turned inmates, dodging bites, and trying not to get overwhelmed. Then I found out the source—a guard was wearing that damn mask. Or rather, the zombie demon was wearing him like a meat suit. It had one goal: spread the infection. Whoever sent it probably didn’t realize that controlling the demon would be impossible. Zombie 101, right?”
“Or maybe an apocalypse was the endgame, and killing you was just a bonus,” Buffy suggested darkly.
Faith nodded thoughtfully. “Yeah, could be. Either way, it backfired.”
“So how did a mini zombie apocalypse lead to you getting a new identity and walking around prison-free? And what happened to the zombie demon?”
“Demon went poof when I destroyed the mask—and the poor guy it was wearing. But not before we torched a good chunk of the prison trying to contain the infection,” Faith admitted, a sheepish grin tugging at her lips. “Kind of like your high school, but with less irony and more moaning undead inmates.”
Buffy raised an eyebrow. “Hey, the high school thing wasn’t my fault. It was infested with vampires.”
Faith smirked, the kind of smirk that always seemed to carry just a hint of mischief. “No judgments, Twinkie—I mean, Buffy…Sorry, it kinda slipped.”
“Alright, so here’s the deal,” Faith began, her tone casual but tinged with a flicker of pride. “During all that chaos, me, the warden, and some guards got real acquainted. Hell, we were all fighting for our lives out there. We worked together—saved some inmates, rescued the doctor from the medical wing, which, by the way, was total zombie central.”
Buffy’s eyes narrowed. “So you did break out of prison.”
Faith rolled her eyes. “No, B, I was let out. Big difference.”
“I think you’re missing the point, Faith.”
“Hey, the warden signed off on it. That makes it legal—or at least legal adjacent.”
Buffy chuckled despite herself, shaking her head at Faith’s warped interpretation of the law. Before she could reply, the familiar prickling sensation of a nearby vampire danced across her senses. Her body tensed, and her expression sharpened, scanning the cemetery with trained precision.
Faith noticed immediately, her playful grin fading as her stance shifted. “Vamps?” she asked, her tone low and ready.
Buffy nodded, her voice quiet but firm. “Close. Get ready. I’ll flush them out towards you.”
”Sounds good.”
The petite blonde sprang into action, disappearing behind a crypt that bore the unmistakable Art Deco elegance of the 1920s. Faith stayed behind, her anxiety mounting with each passing minute. She knew Buffy was more than capable—she wasn’t just a Slayer; she was the Slayer, the Chosen One—but that didn’t stop the nagging fear from creeping in. It only took one bad day, one overpowered demon, for even the strongest to fall. Faith understood that better than most. Kendra, her predecessor, had died at the hands of a vampire despite being trained and groomed by the Council to be the perfect weapon. She had followed their rules to the letter and died just the same. That grim reminder of a Slayer's mortality made it impossible for Faith to sit idle any longer.
Moving cautiously, she approached the crypt, keeping low and calling on every ounce of stealth she’d honed over the years. As she peeked around the corner, she found... nothing. No Buffy, no vamps, no sign of anything supernatural.
Her unease growing, Faith slipped further into the space, crouching low behind neatly trimmed hedges as she scanned the area. “Buffy,” she called out in a hushed, urgent tone. When no response came, she tried again, her voice a little louder. “Buffy!”
Before she could call a third time, a firm hand clamped down on her shoulder. Instinct and training kicked in, and Faith spun, using the momentum to flip her would-be attacker over her shoulder. They hit the ground with a solid thud, and it wasn’t until her “attacker” landed on her butt that Faith realized who it was.
“What the hell, Faith?” Buffy hissed, glaring up at her from the dirt.
Faith exhaled sharply, her heart still racing. “Don’t sneak up on me like that! I thought you were a vamp.”
Buffy dusted herself off as she got to her feet, her expression somewhere between exasperated and amused. “I wasn’t sneaking up on you. I was trying to shut you up before you gave us away.”
“Gave us away to who? There’s no one—” Faith’s retort was abruptly cut off as three vampires sprang from the shadows, launching a coordinated ambush from the side of the immense mausoleum.
Although Buffy had been momentarily distracted by Faith, it didn’t dull the blonde Slayer’s reflexes. She flipped backward like a gymnast, landing gracefully on her feet just as a skanky-looking, red-haired female vampire lunged, landing between her and Faith. The vampire crouched low, its posture reminiscent of a predatory feline. Piercing yellow eyes glared at Buffy, its fanged mouth curling into a malicious snarl. It growled—a guttural, menacing sound designed to unnerve, and send a chill down the spine of any normal, vanilla human.
But Buffy wasn’t normal.
She didn’t flinch. Instead, she spun into a sharp roundhouse kick, her boot connecting solidly with the vampire’s head. The impact sent the creature sprawling onto the grass, landing with a pained grunt. Buffy’s movements were fluid, instinctive, a testament to the fact that she was made for this—born to do this.
No sooner had the red-haired vamp hit the ground than Buffy whirled on her heel, pivoting just in time to intercept another attacker—a hulking, varsity wrestler-type vampire trying to creep up on her blind side. She reacted with precision, her side kick hitting its mark and sending the brute stumbling backward. He crashed into a tombstone with a bone-rattling thud, the stone splitting in two beneath his massive weight.
Faith’s instincts kicked in as she felt the shift in the air behind her. She dodged just in time, spinning around to face the third vampire. He was fast—faster than the punks she’d fought in the alley—but Faith was faster still. She narrowly avoided his claws, swiping dangerously close to her stomach.
Unlike the punks in the alley, this vampire had the full preternatural package— superhuman strength, reflexes, and speed. Faith was out of practice, and she knew it. One misstep, one moment of overconfidence, could be her last. She ducked under a sharp cross and delivered a bone-crunching counterpunch to his ribs. The impact staggered him, but he recovered quickly, pivoting to swipe at her face.
Faith dropped low, dodging the claws with a hair’s breadth to spare. She retaliated with a powerful body blow, grinning slightly as she felt some of its ribs giving way. Not pausing, she followed up with a vicious backhand that sent him careening into the nearest mausoleum wall. The satisfying thud echoed in the still night. Faith took a moment to steady her breathing, pleasantly surprised at how much of her Slayer edge had stayed intact despite her time in prison.
She turned to check on Buffy and found the petite blonde holding her own against two vampires. No surprise there. Faith had always been impressed—entranced, really—by Buffy’s fighting style. Every move was sharp, fluid, and perfectly timed. Watching Buffy in combat was like watching a dangerous dance, equal parts beauty and destruction.
“She’s amazing,” Faith muttered under her breath, her dark eyes fixed on Buffy as she effortlessly ducked, evaded, and countered her opponents’ every move.
The two vampires attacking Buffy struggled to keep up with her speed. They moved sluggishly compared to the Slayer’s precise and calculated strikes. Buffy dove into a roll, avoiding the clumsy lunge of the larger vampire, and sprang up with an elegant butterfly kick that sent the red-haired vamp sprawling. Faith’s lips quirked upward in an involuntary smile. She didn’t just admire Buffy’s skill—there was something about her grace, her quiet confidence, that left Faith momentarily mesmerized.
It was a costly distraction.
Faith didn’t see the blow coming until it was too late. The vampire she’d left crumpled against the mausoleum wall had recovered and blindsided her with a vicious punch. The force of it sent Faith sprawling onto the cold, damp ground.
“Shit,” Faith muttered, rubbing the side of her head as she scrambled to her feet. Her attacker—a wiry, scarecrow-like vampire with wild black hair reminiscent of an eighties rock band member.—grinned, clearly relishing the sight of the Slayer on the ground.
“Serves me right,” Faith muttered, mentally kicking herself for letting her guard down. She shook off the dizziness and squared up again to the shock of the vampire, who thought he’d be dining on a warm, unconscious girl by now. Frustrated by the turn of events, it charged at her, claws slashing wildly, but Faith was ready this time. She dodged, parried, and countered with ease. One of his swipes came dangerously close to her face, and for a split second, Faith felt her confidence waver. She began to loose her rhythm just as the vampire landed a lucky backhand. Faith hit the ground again with a frustrated grunt, rubbing her jaw as she glared up at him. She was overthinking it. She had to let go—stop calculating every move and let her instincts take the wheel.
“Alright, you bastard,” Faith growled, springing to her feet in one fluid motion. Her dark eyes burned with renewed determination. “Round two.”
She moved to strike, but her focus faltered when she noticed Buffy standing off to the side, arms crossed, watching her with calm amusement.
“Uh, B?” Faith asked, narrowly dodging another wild punch. “What are you doing?”
Buffy smirked, the faintest hint of a tease in her tone. “You sure this conversation shouldn’t wait until after you’ve staked him?”
Fuck! The scarecrow-like corpse took the brief moment of distraction to renew its attack. Faith ducked a punch and leapt over a sweeping slash, barely avoiding the sharp claws meant to hamstring her legs. Relief was short-lived, though, as she felt herself snatched out of the air by the wrestler-like vampire who had joined his compatriot in trying to bring her down.
The brute had her by the throat, hoisting her off the ground as though she weighed nothing. He dangled her like a rag doll, an amused sneer spreading across his face.
Goddammit! Second time today! Faith thought bitterly as she clawed at the iron grip around her neck. Channeling her frustration, she grasped his wrist with one hand and slammed her forearm against his elbow with the other. The satisfying snap of the joint shattering was followed by the vampire’s howl of agony.
The moment her feet hit the grass, Faith sprang into action. She surged forward, delivering a high roundhouse kick that sent the bulky vamp hurtling over a row of headstones. No sooner had she landed than the red-haired female vampire lunged at her with a feral growl. Faith moved on pure instinct, catching the vamp’s head and wrenching it backward with a stomach-turning crack. The creature crumpled to the ground like a marionette with its strings cut.
Breathing hard, Faith grimaced. Breaking its neck wouldn’t kill it, but it bought her precious seconds to regroup.
“Hey, B!” Faith called out, glancing at Buffy, who still hadn’t jumped into the fray.
“What?” Buffy replied, her tone calm, almost teasing.
“Slight problem here—kinda hard to stake these guys without, you know, a stake.”
Buffy raised an eyebrow, clearly unimpressed. “You came to a cemetery without a stake?”
Faith rolled her eyes as she ducked a charging bull-like vampire. She countered with a devastating punch to its skull, the impact sounded like breaking wood which echoed off the mausoleums in the silent night. The vampire dropped to the ground, but Faith didn’t let up. She pounced, pinning him with a knee to his chest and raining punches onto his face. The satisfying crunch of breaking bones fueled her adrenaline, but she knew the beatdown wasn’t enough to finish the job. Her body buzzed in excitement, pleading for her to go for the kill. Which could not happen, these bastards were tough, and without a stake, this fight could drag on all night. Faith glanced around, sizing up the situation. The skinny vampire circled her like a predator, looking for an opening. Behind her, the female vampire began to stir, her grotesquely twisted neck snapping back into place.
“Shit,” Faith muttered, spinning to face her rising opponent.
She barely caught the glint of wood flying through the air before Buffy’s voice cut in. “Heads up!”
Faith’s hand shot out, catching the tossed stake just as the wiry vamp lunged at her. Without missing a beat, she turned and drove the stake through his chest. He exploded into dust before he even realized what had happened.
“Thanks, B,” Faith said as she whirled on the other two. The remaining vampires met the same fate in quick succession—one from a swift thrust to the heart while he lay pinned beneath her and the other with a spinning strike that ended in a cloud of ash.
As the dust settled, Faith strolled over to Buffy, holding out the stake with a smirk. “Couldn’t have done it without ya.”
Buffy folded her arms, raising an eyebrow. “You got that right.” She motioned toward the stake. “Why don’t you hold onto that this time? Seriously, what were you thinking patrolling without one? Rookie move, Faith.”
Faith’s smirk faltered. “Yeah, yeah, rookie move,” she muttered, tucking the stake into her jacket. Then, with a pointed look, she added, “But let’s not forget this was your spur-of-the-moment idea, not mine.”
Buffy frowned, briefly at a loss for a comeback. “Fair. But still, a Slayer should never be caught without a stake. Otherwise, you’ll, you know... actually be caught dead.” She winced. “Ugh, that sounded way more philosophical in my head. Anyway, point is, when we get back to the house, I’ll give you a spare stake.”
“What, you’re not giving me Mr. Pointy?” Faith teased.
“No way. Mr. Pointy’s mine. You can get your own and name it...I don’t know, something like…Mr. Stabby?” Buffy grinned, clearly enjoying herself.
Faith shook her head, laughing. “That’s just as ridiculous as Mr. Pointy.”
The laughter reverberated between them as they resumed their stroll through the cemetery. For once, the heavy weight of Slayer duties felt lighter, almost bearable. Buffy glanced sideways at Faith, her expression softening. Slaying with her tonight had made it somehow... easier. Comforting, even. As they walked, a memory surfaced, tugging at the edges of Buffy’s thoughts.
“You know,” Buffy began, “that’s exactly what you said to me the first time I watched you stake a vamp.”
“Huh?” Faith asked, looking confused.
“The first time we met? In the alley by the Bronze? The gang and I thought you were about to be some vamp’s late-night snack. Then you turned it around, took my stake, dusted the guy, and said, ‘Couldn’t have done it without ya.’”
Faith blinked in surprise. “You remember that?”
“Of course I do. Don’t you?”
“Yeah, but...I didn’t think you would.”
“Why not?” Buffy asked, genuinely puzzled.
“I mean, I remember because...that night was important to me.” Faith hesitated, her voice softer now. “But I figured it wasn’t exactly remarkable for you. You didn’t even seem to like me at first.”
Buffy stopped walking, turning to face Faith. “Faith, contrary to what you’ve probably told yourself, that night was important to me. And it wasn’t that I didn’t like you... Okay, maybe I wasn’t your biggest fan at first. But it wasn’t because of you, not really. It was because... well, all my friends immediately liked you. I’d just gotten back to Sunnydale, trying to settle in, and there you were—this cool, confident bad assed Slayer who fit right in. I didn’t even give you a chance.”
Faith stopped in her tracks, her mind reeling. Buffy’s words threw her completely off-balance. “Wait, are you saying you were...jealous?”
Buffy gave a small laugh, almost self-conscious. “I wouldn’t call it jealousy.”
“Sure sounds like jealousy, B,” Faith teased, though her voice lacked its usual sharpness.
Buffy sighed but didn’t deny it. “Okay, maybe a little. But that wasn’t fair to you. I’m sorry about that.”
Faith didn’t know how to respond. The apology, the honesty—it was a lot to take in. Part of her wanted to press further, to understand why that night had mattered so much to Buffy. But something about the blonde’s softened tone—the vulnerability in her voice—made her hesitate.
Buffy noticed the hesitation and raised an eyebrow. “Aren’t you gonna ask?”
“Ask what?” Faith replied cautiously.
“Why that night was important to me.”
Faith shook her head, almost shyly. “No. I mean, I want to, but... I’m good.” Her voice was quieter now, almost unsure. She wasn’t entirely sure why she didn’t ask, but she knew the answer might be too much. If Buffy had felt something deeper, back before Faith had blown everything to hell, it would only twist the knife of her own regret.
Buffy studied her for a moment, her expression unreadable. Faith squirmed under her stare and quickly shifted topics. “I do have a different question, B.”
Buffy raised an eyebrow. “Of course.”
Faith looked down, struggling to form her question. “Back then, when I first showed up and got on your nerves... why’d you eventually give me a chance?”
Buffy tilted her head, considering. “The night we fought Kakistos. I saw the real you—a frightened girl who, at the end of the day, didn’t give up. You faced that fear and staked him. I know it wasn’t easy. After dying at the Master’s hands, I was terrified too. I’m not sure I could’ve gotten past that fear without Giles and my friends. But you did, and you saved me.”
She paused, her voice softening as she continued, “I wanted to know the girl behind the tough facade... to see your walls come down. There was something about you that I couldn’t ignore. I wanted to understand it, even though it kind of scared me.”
Faith’s throat tightened as she looked away, trying to ignore the way Buffy’s words made her chest ache. “Well, I don’t know about good, but... you’re seeing me with my walls down now. I’m just sorry it took so long to be straight with you.”
Buffy’s breath caught at Faith’s choice of words, her mind skittering briefly to thoughts she wasn’t sure she was ready to unpack. “Faith?” she said gently.
“Yeah?”
“Do you want to know why it hurt me so much when you turned to the Mayor?”
Faith blinked back tears, barely nodding.
Buffy took a step closer, her gaze steady but her heart racing. “Because I wanted us to be close. Like... really close. And it hurt because you didn’t see that. You chose him over me, and I didn’t understand why.”
Faith swallowed hard, her voice shaking. “I didn’t think I could come to you. After the stuff with Angel... I figured we weren’t really friends. We just patrolled, and you called when you needed help. I didn’t feel needed. Every time I tried to talk about... us, you changed the subject.”
Buffy bit her lip, a flicker of guilt crossing her face. “I know,” she admitted. Her voice softened, almost a whisper. “But it wasn’t because I didn’t care, Faith. It was because I didn’t know how to deal with what I was feeling. You... you made me feel things I didn’t understand. Things I wasn’t sure I could handle.”
Faith’s head tilted slightly, her brows furrowing as she studied Buffy. “What kind of things, B?”
Buffy looked away, suddenly hyper-aware of the space between them. “I... I don’t know. You made everything... intense. When you were around, I felt like I was standing too close to the edge of something big. It scared me, okay?”
Faith blinked, digesting Buffy’s words. She thought about everything that had happened between them—how her assumptions, driven by anger and hurt, had led her astray. And now, hearing this, the depth of her mistakes hit her like a wave.
“I don’t want to start another fight,” Buffy continued, her voice quieter now, “but you weren’t exactly open either, Faith.”
“Fair enough,” Faith replied, her tone even.
“But you’re doing it now. That’s what matters,” Buffy quickly added, her gaze flickering to Faith’s, almost hesitant.
“Yeah,” Faith said softly, her voice tinged with regret. “But it’s too late.”
“No... not for everything.” Buffy’s words hung in the air, heavy with meaning.
Faith understood. She nodded, swallowing the lump in her throat. “So... what happens now, between us?”
Buffy hesitated for just a moment before reaching out and gently taking Faith’s hand. The touch was warm, grounding, and it sent a jolt of something unfamiliar but not unwelcome through Faith. “Honestly, I don’t know,” Buffy admitted, her thumb brushing against the back of Faith’s hand. “But what tonight has made clear is that I don’t want you out of my life forever. We’re connected in a way that goes beyond words. For better or worse, we’re part of each other.”
Faith’s breath hitched as Buffy continued, her voice soft but firm. “I can’t believe how much I’ve missed this—patrolling with you. You made it more than just another task. You made it fun, even if you also made it way more dangerous than it needed to be.” A small, wistful smile tugged at Buffy’s lips.
Faith chuckled faintly, unable to resist. “Sounds like me.”
Buffy nodded, her smile growing. “Yeah. And that’s why we need each other—to balance out our extremes. Life’s too short, Faith. Especially for us.” Buffy’s voice grew quieter, almost trembling with vulnerability. “So, if you’re sincere—and my gut tells me you are—then I want you in my life.”
“But?” Faith prompted gently, catching the hesitancy in Buffy’s tone.
“But...” Buffy paused, searching for the right words. “I’m not ready for you to come back fully—not yet. I need time to rebuild trust. But I think we can get there. Start fresh. Go back to L.A., work with Angel, or slay solo. Build your life. And we’ll keep in touch—calls, emails, visits. When you’re ready, maybe you can come back for good.”
“I don’t think I can ever come back here permanently.”
Buffy’s lips pressed into a small, almost sad smile. “Just agree to think about it. That’s a ways off, anyway. Can’t we see where this takes us?” She searched Faith’s eyes, her voice steady but her heart racing.
Faith’s mouth worried her bottom lip as she looked into Buffy’s green eyes. There was something there—vulnerability, and maybe... hope for the future. “You really want this?”
Buffy didn’t look away, holding Faith’s gaze like it was the only thing grounding her. “Yes, I do.”
After a long moment, Faith nodded. “Alright, I accept your deal.”
A faint smile touched Buffy’s lips, mirrored on Faith’s face. “The sun will be up soon,” Faith murmured. “I should grab my stuff and head out.”
Buffy hesitated, then offered quietly, “You sure? You could rest and eat breakfast. Spending time together might help the whole ‘reconciling’ thing, just saying.”
Faith’s smile widened slightly, though her voice stayed gentle. “Tempting, especially the time-with-you part. But I should get going. New life to start and all.”
For a moment, they just stood there, caught between the shadows of their past and the tentative promise of something better. Buffy fought the urge to say more, to hold on a little longer, but instead, she stepped back, letting Faith have the space she needed. “I understand. Well, come on,” she said gestured. “Let’s finish the patrol. The rest... we’ll figure out.”
Faith fell into step beside her, the familiar rhythm of walking through the cemetery soothing in its own way. “Yeah,” Faith said quietly, glancing sideways at Buffy. “We will.”
*****
IX
The journey back to Buffy’s house was quiet but companionable, the familiar streets of Sunnydale stretching out before them. The crisp morning air brushed against their skin, mingling with the faint sounds of birds greeting the dawn and the distant hum of early-morning traffic.
As they neared the front door, muffled TV infomercials filtered through the house. Buffy pushed open the door, revealing a warm, domestic tableau. Willow, Tara, and Dawn were sprawled across the couch, blankets tangled around them. Dawn, clearly having lost the battle with sleep, was curled up with her head in Tara’s lap, her soft snores barely audible.
Willow looked up first, smiling sleepily. “Hey, you’re back!” Then, as if suddenly realizing who was with Buffy, she added, “Not that we were worried or anything. Nope. Totally fine with Faith here. No luring, maiming, or killing concerns whatsoever.” Her babbling gained momentum. “And, uh, breakfast! We thought you might want some. I read that Slayers get... y’know, hungry and... uh, other stuff after patrol. So, pancakes! Unless you two have other cravings that involve chocolate... which could also work, since you could ideally satisfy both cravings at the same time... and by the look on your faces, I just crossed the line from babbling to mildly offensive, so I’m just gonna—stop. Now.”
Faith’s laughter filled the room. “Nice to know you still got a talent for word vomit, Red.”
Dawn stirred, yawning as her eyes fluttered open. “Did you say pancakes? Or chocolate? Can we do both?”
Tara smiled at the exchange before quietly speaking up. “Did you two... work everything out?”
Buffy nodded, her eyes flicking briefly to Faith before addressing the room. “We talked, we cried—it was like a very special episode of a Lifetime show. All we were missing was some cheesy background music and a dramatic rainstorm. Anyway, we decided to give this long-distance thing a shot. You know, see if we can pull off the whole ‘absence makes the heart grow fonder’ cliché without someone getting maimed.”
Faith added, “I’m heading back to L.A. Just gotta grab my stuff. First bus out, but who knows? Maybe I’ll be back.”
Dawn’s face fell. “You’re leaving already? You just got here.”
Faith ruffled her hair, grinning. “Don’t get all mushy on me, kid. I’ll be back before you know it.”
Tara, ever thoughtful, offered, “Do you want company to the bus stop?”
Buffy quickly stepped in. “Actually, I’ll go with her. You guys stay here—I’ll bring back breakfast on the way home.”
Dawn perked up instantly. “Muffins. And bagels. With cream cheese!”
The room filled with laughter, which faded as Faith grabbed her bag from the corner where she’d left it earlier. Tara approached her, holding out Faith’s leather jacket.
“Thanks for lending me this,” Tara said with a kind smile.
Faith waved it off. “No big. Just keep an eye on Buffy and the brat for me, yeah?”
Tara stepped closer and unexpectedly pulled Faith into a gentle hug. “If you need help with anything—magic or just... anything—my number’s in the inside pocket. Don’t hesitate to call.”
Faith blinked, touched but unsure how to respond. “Thanks. That means a lot. And, uh, sorry for being such a shit when we first met.”
Tara’s smile softened. “That was a long time ago. You’ve changed. Take care of yourself, Faith.”
Faith nodded, swallowing hard. With one last glance around the cozy living room—and a lingering look at Buffy—she opened the door and stepped into the fading night.
Buffy followed, the door closing quietly behind them as the house settled back into calm.
******
X
Buffy and Faith walked in silence towards the crowded station, their boots crunching against the pavement in an unspoken rhythm. The distant rumble of bus engines and the smell of diesel filled the air, signaling the finality of their night together.
Faith glanced sideways at Buffy, who seemed unusually focused on her feet. “This was nice,” Buffy said suddenly, breaking the silence.
“What? Me leaving?” Faith smirked, raising an eyebrow.
Buffy shot her a look. “Yes, Faith. Your departure has been the highlight of my week,” she deadpanned. “No, I meant last night. You know, the patrolling, the talking, the not trying to kill each other. It was... nice.”
Faith chuckled. “Yeah, I missed it too. Well, maybe not the ‘not trying to kill each other’ part. That added spice.”
Buffy rolled her eyes. “You’re impossible.”
“And yet, here you are walking me to the bus like I’m your prom date. If I didn’t know better, B, I’d say you’re gonna miss me.”
Buffy didn’t bite, but her lips curved into a small smile. “I just wanted to make sure you actually leave this time.”
“Ouch,” Faith said, clutching her chest dramatically. “Your faith in me is truly inspiring.”
“Isn’t it though?”
Faith smirked, her lips curling up in a mischievous grin. “You know, B. You really didn’t have to walk me; I know where the bus depot is.”
Buffy rolled her eyes playfully. “Smart ass. I just thought you’d like the company.”
“Uh-huh, that’s why you told Tara to stay put while you came with.”
“I just wanted her to spend time with Willow and Dawn. The three of them don’t hang out much together anymore. I’m hoping Willow and Tara can find a way back to each other after all that’s happened between them.”
“Like us,” Faith said, her tone turning serious for a moment.
“Maybe,” Buffy replied honestly.
“Are you sure you’re not personally making sure I actually leave?” Faith teased.
Buffy rolled her eyes. “Of course not, Faith. After everything we went through tonight to try and make up, I’m still trying to kick you out of here.”
“I knew it,” Faith laughed.
The teasing carried them all the way to the depot, their banter a fragile shield against the shared sense of loss lingering in their parting. Once there, Buffy plopped down on the curb, her fingers idly brushing over a crack in the pavement as if it might hold the answers to the myriad emotions swirling inside her. She watched the flurry of people rushing past—families with suitcases, couples exchanging teary goodbyes, and bleary-eyed commuters clutching oversized coffees. The chaos of the station only deepened her sense of smallness, leaving her feeling insignificant amid the relentless bustle.
Her brooding was cut short by Faith’s triumphant return, ticket in hand and a grin on her face like she’d just conquered Mount Everest. “Got it!” Faith declared, waving the ticket like it was a golden prize. “First bus out. Told you I’m good at making a clean getaway.”
Buffy smiled faintly, her gaze drifting up to meet Faith’s. “You make buying a bus ticket sound like you slayed a demon for it.”
“Hey, you don’t know the half of it,” Faith quipped, tucking the ticket into her jacket. “There was an old lady in line ahead of me with elbows like stakes. Total boss fight.”
“Truly legendary.” Buffy deadpanned.
“You’d think that because you didn’t get to see me battling the vending machine that ate my change back at the L.A. Depot. Now that was epic,” Faith said, slipping the ticket into her jacket pocket.
Buffy rolled her eyes, but the corners of her mouth twitched upward. Faith had a way of pulling her out of her own head, whether she wanted it or not.
“Well...I guess I’ll see you around then,” Buffy said, her voice steady but her eyes betraying the sadness she couldn’t fully hide.
“Thanks, B,” Faith replied softly. Her tone held more than gratitude; it was layered with an ache that mirrored Buffy’s own. Reaching into her jacket, Faith pulled out a familiar wooden stake. “Almost forgot here is Mr. Pointy, he kinda belongs to you.”
Buffy shook her head, pushing it back toward Faith. “Keep him. He was Kendra’s, and honestly? You’ve earned him. Plus, you might need a little luck out there. L.A. can be... intense.”
Faith stared at the stake for a moment, then nodded. “Thanks, B. I’ll take good care of him.”
“Just don’t lose him in some vamp nest. He’s got sentimental value.”
Faith laughed. “I’ll do my best.”
The two stood awkwardly, the noise of the station filling the space between them. Finally, Buffy broke the silence. “You’ll call when you get there?”
Faith smirked. “What, and ruin my reputation as the mysterious rogue Slayer?”
Buffy raised an eyebrow. “Faith.”
“Yeah, yeah. I’ll call. Might even send a postcard.”
“You write?” Buffy teased, a hint of skepticism in her tone.
“Surprising, isn’t it. Sure it is all in print and capital letters but I manage.” Faith said, grinning.
They walked in silence, their steps slow and reluctant, until they reached the waiting Greyhound bus. The low rumble of the engine was a harsh reminder that this was the end of the line. Faith would leave, and Buffy would stay—something Buffy had grown sadly familiar with over the years. People came and went, but she always remained, left behind to pick up the pieces.
Neither wanted to be the first to say goodbye.
Buffy shifted awkwardly, glancing at Faith. Her throat tightened as she tried to summon the words she needed. Finally, unable to stand the weight of silence any longer, she moved toward Faith, her arms lifting slightly before faltering. Faith had never been one for hugs, and Buffy hesitated, unsure if this would cross some invisible line. But something about this moment felt too important to let pass. She decided to go through with it anyway, awkwardly wrapping her arms around the other Slayer.
Faith stiffened for a fraction of a second, but then she relaxed, her arms coming up to return the embrace. The hug was brief, but it lingered in its own way, a charged moment that spoke volumes neither could say out loud. When they pulled apart, they shared a smile—small and bittersweet.
Faith turned and climbed the bus steps. Her movements were hesitant, as if each step took more effort than the last. She handed her ticket to the driver, then made her way to the back of the bus, where she tossed her bag onto an empty seat. Sinking into the worn cushions, she let out a shaky breath and leaned back, trying to calm the storm of emotions raging inside her. But no matter how hard she tried, she couldn’t drown out Buffy’s voice in her mind.
“Aren’t you gonna ask? Why that night was important?”
Faith’s knuckles cracked as she clenched her fists, the sound loud in the quiet space of her thoughts. She slammed her head lightly against the backrest, frustrated with herself. She thought about the book she’d read in prison, about the moment she could have chosen to change her path but hadn’t. That hesitation, born of fear, had haunted her ever since.
She couldn’t let it happen again. She couldn’t leave without knowing.
Her heart pounded as she shot to her feet, determination replacing the fear that had kept her silent for so long.
“BUFFY!” Faith shouted, practically leaping down the bus steps.
To her surprise, Buffy was still there, standing near the bus’s entrance as if she’d been unable to walk away. Her arms were crossed, and her gaze was fixed on the bus, a look of sadness etched into her features.
Buffy’s eyes widened when she saw Faith rushing toward her. “Faith?”
Faith stopped just short of her, breathless and trembling with the weight of what she needed to say.
“Buffy, wait,” Faith called, her voice raw, almost breaking. “I can’t leave. Not like this. I can’t keep running from this. I’ve been running for so damn long, B—running from everything. My mistakes, my feelings...from you. But I can’t anymore. Your death made me realize something. No matter how scared I am, I need to know. I need to know how you feel.”
Buffy’s eyes softened, the sadness in them shifting into something deeper, something vulnerable and unguarded.
“Faith, I...”
“Please,” Faith interrupted, her tone low and pleading. “Just tell me. Did you ever feel anything for me? Anything close to what I felt for you? Because for one brief, fleeting second back then...I thought—”
“Faith,” Buffy said softly, her voice trembling, each syllable like a thread holding her fragile composure together. It was almost a whisper, a quiet plea not to pull her into the emotions she’d spent so long trying to bury.
“Please,” Faith nearly broke as she pleaded.
Buffy closed her eyes, and when she spoke, her voice was unsteady, her words carrying the weight of years of pain and unspoken truths. “That night was important because it changed everything for me. I’d spent so long feeling like I was drowning—alone, like no one could ever truly understand me. My friends, they try, but they can’t. Even Angel couldn’t—not really. A part of me could never connect with him, because he was immortal. He couldn’t understand what it’s like to live knowing there’s an expiration date hovering just out of sight, waiting for you...just like every Slayer before me. I thought that was my fate—alone in every way that mattered.”
Buffy opened her eyes, and they shimmered with unshed tears as they locked with Faith’s. Her voice softened but gained a raw edge of vulnerability. “That night, I realized I might’ve been wrong. For the first time, I felt like someone could understand what I felt inside—the weight I carry, the sacrifices I’ve made, the loneliness that feels endless. That was the night I met you, Faith.”
Faith’s breath caught, her chest tightening as if the words were a physical blow. Guilt surged through her, sharp and relentless, as memories of her betrayal flashed in her mind.
Buffy stepped closer, her gaze never leaving Faith’s. “You made me feel like I wasn’t alone anymore. Like maybe, just maybe, I didn’t have to face it all by myself.” Buffy’s voice cracked, but she pressed on, her words a mix of longing and heartbreak. “That’s why it mattered. That’s why you matter, Faith.”
Faith’s throat burned, her emotions threatening to overwhelm her as she stared at Buffy, unable to speak. There had been so many moments between them—so many misunderstandings, fights, and walls built up—but now, in this moment, they seemed to fall away. Without thinking, Faith closed the distance between them, and the world around them blurred, leaving only the two of them standing in the dim light of the depot. Buffy moved closer, hesitating just for a beat, as if unsure whether this was even real. Then, with a quiet breath, she cupped Faith's cheek, and the tension between them shifted. Their lips brushed—gentle, tentative, as though they were both testing something neither knew how to handle. It was a kiss full of vulnerability, fear of what the other might think, and the kind of hope they hadn’t dared to believe in before. Years of rivalry, of fighting on opposite sides, suddenly didn’t seem so important. The chaos of the station, the noise of the world, disappeared, leaving them in the quiet space of what might be. Faith had always pushed, always been the one to run, but here, in this moment, something inside her finally allowed herself to be open. Buffy felt it too, the weight of their past, the fragile possibility of a future. Neither of them could speak the words yet, but the kiss said it all: maybe, just maybe, this wasn’t just another fight. Maybe, this time, it was the hope of something else entirely.
The kiss ended too soon, but the connection lingered in the air between them. Buffy pulled back just enough to meet Faith’s wide, stunned eyes and offered a small, almost shy smile before turning and walking away, leaving Faith rooted in place.
Faith touched her lips, still tingling with the memory of Buffy’s, her mind spinning.
“Are you getting on, young lady?” the bus driver called, jolting her from her daze.
Faith blinked, turning to the bus before looking back toward where Buffy had disappeared into the crowd. With a shaky breath, she climbed back aboard, ignoring the curious stares of the other passengers. As the bus rumbled to life and pulled out of the depot, Faith leaned against the window, her fingers absently brushing her lips. For the first time in a long while, her heart was filled with something unfamiliar—hope. Watching Sunnydale fade into the distance, she couldn’t help but wonder if this wasn’t the end, but the beginning of something new. As her eyelids fluttered with exhaustion, Faith's gaze caught a highway sign in the distance: Now Leaving Sunnydale. After all these years, it finally felt true. Maybe, just maybe, she had found her way toward redemption. And perhaps, if she was lucky, a chance at love.