This Is How It Goes

Buffy blinked, stunned and offended.

"Why would you go after those vamps like that and get hurt? You some kind of mental retard?" Faith snapped heatedly.

"Um, what the hell are you talking about?" Buffy asked, nonplussed and getting angrier. "Did I get transported to some alternate dimension where I wasn't defending myself against like four vamps? I don't know what kind of standards you're dealing with, but in my book, getting out alive is a definite plus."

"Those are your standards, B? Getting out alive? How about not getting chomped on and having your goddamn wrist shattered!" Faith shouted. She dropped Buffy's elbow and turned around to face her, looking furious.

"Well, Jesus, Faith, sorry if I rained on your perfect slaying record! Does my broken wrist push you into the `damaged' column?" Buffy yelled, stopping too.

"Why — why did you have get hurt like that?" Faith sputtered, and there was suddenly an undercurrent of fear in her voice. "God, you — you complicate everything. Why do you always have to make everything so fucking confusing?!" She was almost bellowing.

Buffy opened her mouth in shock. She felt, and this seemed like a common feeling when she was around Faith, like she had just walked into the middle of a play and had no idea what was going on. She stared at Faith, who was looking at her with a combination of rage, confusion, fear, and a soft uncertainty. Buffy felt a rush of comprehension move through her like lightning, felt her anger crumble.

"Faith ..." she said softly.

"Don't — don't talk to me like that!" Faith yelled furiously. "You don't get to talk to me like you give a shit, like you know what's going on!" She pointed at Buffy, and her voice was intense and dangerous. "Fuck you, B."

Before Buffy could do more than tentatively reach for her, Faith spun around and walked off. And then abruptly turned around again after two steps, her face a canvas of tight angles and lines. She walked up to Buffy, grabbed her elbow and continued walking, not even looking at her.

"I swear to God, if you weren't about to pass out `cause of blood loss, I'd drop your ass like it had syphilis." She glared at Buffy. "Don't even think about opening your mouth."

Buffy smiled a little, despite the situation. It was odd, but even with a broken wrist, a bleeding neck, and the pervasive feeling that she had just gotten her ass kicked all the way to Uzbekistan, she felt happier than she had in months. Progress, she said to herself, and glanced sideways at Faith. They walked out of the cemetery together to find a pay phone.

~ — ~ — ~

Buffy came to school on Monday with a cast reaching to her elbow on her left arm and a large white bandage on her neck. After Giles had something resembling a heart attack and drove her to the hospital 50 mph over the speed limit, the doctors stopped the now trickle of blood and set her wrist.

Faith had come along, glaring in general and looking as if she would drop-kick anyone who tried to talk to her. She had walked off after hearing that Buffy was okay, and Buffy hadn't seen or talked to her since. Maybe "progress" was too generous a term, Buffy thought. But she couldn't help be buoyed by the turn of events. Faith had revealed something. And even if it was only because she thought Buffy was dying and had even almost killed her herself, it was something.

They met in the library that afternoon for a Slayer-centered meeting.

"Buff, what have I told you about injuring yourself for the sake of new fashions?" Xander asked as Buffy walked in, lounging in one of the chairs.

She glanced at her cast, then up at him skeptically.

"It's a whole new look. Screams `I have no sense of self-preservation.' Gonna be the new thing," Xander continued.

Willow glared at him and then gave Buffy a sympathetic look. "How's it feel?"

Buffy shrugged. "Been worse. `Course, having your wrist twisted like a piece of spaghetti, not the pleasurable experience you'd think it be."

"Ah, Buffy," Giles said, coming out of his office and looking at her warmly. "How are you doing?"

"Okay. Although, I think your driving skills, or lack of same, didn't really help the odds of me not dying," Buffy said, grinning.

Giles coughed. "Yes, well, the speed limits here are ludicrous, anyway." Willow, Xander, and Buffy shared an amused look.

"Did something unusual happen last night, Buffy? The vampires, were they more organized?" Giles said quickly, still slightly embarrassed.

Buffy nodded. "Yeah, actually. You guys are gonna want to hear this. Me and Faith were patrolling last night -"

"Really?" Willow interrupted eagerly. "Like, direct interaction?"

Giles looked at her strangely. "Um, which is not at all relevant. Sorry," Willow said quietly.

Buffy gave Willow a pointed "we'll talk later" look and then continued. "So, we were patrolling and we came across these two groups of vamps whaling on each other. It was weird, well first `cause they were fighting each other, and also because one of the groups was kind of drowning in Armani."

Giles looked lost. "Well-dressed," Buffy clarified. He rolled his eyes and nodded.

"So one of the smellier vamps runs off and a metro from the other group yells out, `Go get him. The Mayor doesn't want any rogue vamps running around.'" Buffy looked around meaningfully.

The others stared at her. "The Mayor?" Giles asked, mildly shocked.

"Yup. And, when we were fighting them later on, or really when I was being eaten and broken into tiny little pieces, another vampire says, `He'll be happy that we took the Slayers out before it gets serious.' So, conclusions reached." Buffy held up fingers from her good hand as she ticked them off, "The Mayor's pulling the strings. He's the cause of the decrease in vamp killings. And he's planning something ginormous."

Giles took his glasses off and began cleaning them thoughtfully. "It does make sense, I suppose. The Mayor of Sunnydale would have to be painfully aware of the paranormal activity going on here. And in that office, he would be well-positioned for some sort of massive take-over."

"But why the vamps against vamps? Why's he keeping some?" Xander asked, frowning.

"Join in or get out," Willow said thoughtfully. "I bet he's giving the vampires options. Either become an employee or scram. And if they don't, he sends out staking committees. Also," her eyes widened, "he's controlling the vamps he does have. Blood, treats, other motivational tools."

"Keeping their livers," Buffy added helpfully. The others cringed.

"He would also be able to take credit for the increased safety of the community," Giles said.

Just as he finished his sentence, the doors of the library swung open and Faith sauntered in. Buffy glanced up, surprised.

"Yo, G. Got your message. What's up?" she said casually, not even looking at Buffy.

"Faith. We were just discussing what you and Buffy discovered last night," Giles said.

"Yeah. Mayor's the new player in town." She dragged up a chair across from Buffy and sat down in it, propping her boots on the table. She was still effectively ignoring her. Buffy felt an ache that had nothing to do with her arm.

Giles flinched as he looked at her feet, but restrained himself. "Yes. We think he's been hiring or driving out the vampires. It explains the decline in vampire deaths."

"So, what's the plan? Torch city hall? Or send him a flower basket?" Faith asked, looking almost bored.

"Maybe we could plant a mayorly competitor. Have someone give ol' Mr. Incumbent a run for his tax-payers' money," Xander said, nodding his head conspiratorially.

"Or, in a style more attuned to impatient Slayers, we could sneak in, see what we can find in his fortress of politics," Buffy said. "Maybe I could get Angel to hit the streets, see what info he can pick up in the underground. You wouldn't believe the fear he generates when people realize he's come back from a hell dimension. They get all chatty."

She glanced at Faith, and saw her fists clenched tightly, her knuckles white, and her face carefully neutral at the mention of Angel. Buffy felt a combination of happy justification and guilt at Faith's discomfort.

"Yes, perhaps that would be prudent," Giles said thoughtfully. In contrast to Faith, he didn't seem uncomfortable at asking Angel for help, and Buffy rejoiced internally.

"Faith, you should patrol regularly tonight. Buffy needs more recovery time and I don't want you to go near city hall until we have a much more comprehensive idea of what the Mayor is planning. We don't know how dangerous he is," Giles said. "I would also prefer having some blueprints of the building. Willow?"

"On it," Willow responded eagerly, and went to the computer. "His schematics are mine."

"Okay then. I'm gonna get some of my monument-sized pile of homework done. And send positive healing energy to this thing attached to my body," Buffy said, glaring at her useless left arm.

"See you guys later, then," Faith said, her voice flat. She rose in a fluid movement, walked to the door.

Buffy glanced briefly at Willow's pointed look and got up clumsily. She walked quickly over, reaching Faith just as she was about to open the door.

"Uh," Buffy began brilliantly. Faith stopped and glanced at her, and Buffy could tell she was trying hard to keep her face smooth. She hesitated and then put her good hand on Faith's arm. "Be careful?"

Faith looked down at her hand. "You know me, B," she said, and her smirk looked more like a grimace. She walked out.

Chapter 12: Nothing's Simple

Author's Notes: Just wanted to say again how much I appreciate all the feedback and encouragement. Big thanks to everyone who's reviewed.

Buffy spent the next several days in an advanced state of restless anxiety. When dusk began settling, like clockwork, Buffy would feel an uncontrollable urge to slay, to run, to do freaking something instead of sitting and sending ineffectual glares at her cast. She would sit by the window in her bedroom while she was supposed to be doing whatever homework, staring out at the tops of swaying trees, listening to the heavy stillness of the night, and trying not to think about Faith. And when she wasn't thinking about Faith, she was thinking about Angel. Two cheery, positive topics that made her clench her teeth, her fingers opening and closing in a parody of making a fist.

She had to wait at least a week before essentially bribing the doctor to take her cast off. It had probably healed before that, but she didn't want Sunnydale Hospital considering her too much of a medical miracle. The doctor removed the cast, examined her wrist and made several small, incredulous noises. Buffy flexed her arm eagerly and had a ridiculous urge to see if she could punch a hole through the hospital wall. And then re-thought and realized that would be a little less than inconspicuous. She thanked the flummoxed doctor for his magical healing abilities, and then walked out of the hospital with her mom, wishing it was night.

And, finally, after checking in with Giles after school, she saw the sky darken, grabbed Mr. Pointy, and hit the cemeteries. She was practically bouncing, feeling the grass flatten beneath her feet, breathing in the slightly polluted California air, waiting for those sensations up and down her spine.

"Bingo," she whispered as she felt vampires nearby. "And Monopoly and Parchisi and those little crossword puzzles." She began sprinting.

A single vampire was emerging from a fresh grave, struggling and snarling. Buffy stopped and frowned. "This is — well, frankly disappointing."

The vampire looked at up her in disbelief. "I'm disappointing? Why don't you try finding out that Kelly Smit, the girl you've had a crush on for like ever, didn't even come to your funeral!" he said indignantly.

"That's rough, buddy," Buffy sympathized, and hauled him out of the grave before plunging a stake into his chest.

"Figures," he groaned, and crumbled.

Buffy pouted and began walking again towards a different cemetery. "Mayor jerk," she grumbled. "Taking away all my fun."

She continued to mumble obscenities under her breath as she entered a different graveyard. And abruptly ran into three of the Mayor's vampire employees.

They all looked at each other for several frozen moments, surprised, before Buffy flung her stake into one of the vamps' chests.

"Goddamit. Why don't we bring weapons that work at more than two inches away?" one of them complained, and they advanced on her.

Buffy, waiting patiently, suddenly jumped up and threw both her legs out, kicking the two vamps in the face and sending them sprawling. She moved quickly to one of them and staked him, and then spun with a sharp roundhouse kick as the other one attempted to gain the advantage. He went down, scrambled up, and aimed a spotless shoe into her stomach. She dodged it, feeling exhilarated. Feeling hot blood coursing through her entire body, her arms and legs working in tandem. Twenty seconds later and another scattering of dust on the ground.

Buffy stood, breathing heavily, and suddenly heard footsteps behind her. She inhaled deeply, centering herself, and clenched her stake tightly. She waited until they were close enough and spun around, arm and stake out. Faith caught her wrist tightly, grinning slightly.

"Faith," Buffy said, surprised.

"Hey, B." She let go of her wrist. "Back in action, huh?"

Buffy's heart was pounding wildly, both because of the recent violence and how close Faith was to her. She shouldn't be allowed to look so ridiculously attractive, Buffy thought weakly, trying not to be too obvious about running her eyes up and down the other Slayer.

"Yeah. Finally. The hospital thinks I'm a big freak, though," Buffy croaked.

"Hey, nothin' new to me," Faith said, but she was smiling.

Buffy was uncertain about this new Faith. She was friendly, she was talkative, she was forming complete sentences. Huh. Maybe it was actually progress. Maybe that little episode before had made her realize they could at least have a semi-healthy friendship.

They began walking, keeping their eyes peeled for anything interesting.

"You feeling the good Mayor's charitable actions too?" Buffy asked her.

"What, you mean the fact that the only thing I slayed tonight was a roach on my motel wall?" Faith frowned. "Throws me off when there's nothing to pound on."

"Yeah, I got lucky with a couple of vamps back there, but my recently healed arm is a tad more ambitious," Buffy grumbled. "I mean, it feels weird complaining that there aren't enough homicidal vampires around, but there you go. Well, plus that this is sort of the silence before the storm, you know?"

Faith nodded, glanced at her sideways. "Can't relax when it's dark anyway. I need to dance or punch shit or screw. It's like my body won't stay still."