This Is How It Goes

"And we can totally continue that lovely conversation after I find Faith," Buffy said distractedly, frowning.

Had something happened to Faith? Had she just taken off after Buffy fell asleep? Did she do something wrong last night? Was she bleeding profusely somewhere? There seemed to be an intensely disturbing trend for significant others to disappear after sleeping with her, Buffy reflected anxiously.

Wesley sputtered a little, preparing to launch into another diatribe, and Giles cut in. "It would be prudent to find Faith. We need to prepare for tonight, and you can admonish them all you want when they're together," he said firmly, addressing Wesley.

Wesley paused, narrowing his eyes. "Very well." He straightened his tie self-importantly. "Buffy, go locate Faith."

Buffy rolled her eyes. "What a great plan, Wes. Such initiative."

"No need to be sarcastic," he retorted testily. "Where do you believe she could have run off to?"

She frowned, felt another wave of apprehension. "I don't know," Buffy said quietly, frustrated. How one person could cause this much confusion and anxiety in her was an utter and unpleasant mystery.

"Does she frequent certain locations? Certain hang-outs?" Wesley continued, his irritation decreasing in the face of Buffy's blatant anxiety.

"The Bronze? But that's at night." She shook her head. "She does, you know, Faith-things during the day, like sleeping, and watching TV and — and walking around town like she's the hottest piece of ass on the west coast." Buffy looked off into the distance with a blissful, dazed expression.

Wesley cleared his throat awkwardly and Buffy's head snapped back down. "Right. Focusing."

Buffy began pacing, her head down, obviously thinking hard. Wesley watched her uncertainly, Giles calmly. She stopped abruptly, inhaling deeply, her brow still furrowed. The two men waited as several moments passed in utter silence.

Buffy turned around to look back at Wesley and Giles and her eyes were hard and resolved. "Okay. New plan not involving useless pacing. I'll go around town, check out the busy places. I'll be back here before nightfall."

Before Wesley could do more than raise his hand and open his mouth, Buffy had grabbed a stake and marched out of the library, muttering darkly, "If I find her and she hasn't been injured in some gruesome way, I'm killing her."

~ — ~ — ~

She did neither. After wandering around town in a state of rapidly progressing anxiety, going to all the places that Faith even might visit, Buffy walked back to school. Deep red and orange from the sunset were slanting across the library door when she swung open the doors harder than she intended, and was confronted by her friends' and Watchers' hopeful faces. The others watched as she walked over to a chair, collapsed into it, and buried her head in her hands.

She wanted to cry, to yell, to hit Faith repeatedly and tell her what a dumbass she was being, to slip into blissful unconsciousness. Instead, she ran her hands through her hair, took a deep breath, and raised her head to play her part.

"Faith's not coming. This doesn't change the fact that we're needed, that the Mayor's getting something tonight that we have to stop," Buffy said, and her voice held that familiar steel. "Xander, Willow, you guys'll hang back, use the crossbows, 'cause things are gonna get hairy. Wil, if you have any fighting spells, now would be a good time to dust off the newt's eyes. Wes," she looked to him, "you know how to fight?"

Wesley held his chin higher. "I was trained by the Council to be proficient with all weapons and forms of combat." Buffy continued to stare intently at him, raising an eyebrow skeptically. He slumped. "No, not particularly."

"Right. If Faith shows up, then great. If not, we'll fight without her. And we'll win, because that's what we do."

The others nodded at her. Buffy stood up and began selecting weapons. This wasn't time to be "Buffy the High School Student," or "Buffy the Teenage Girl Caught in a Dramatic Lesbian Relationship," this was time to be "Buffy the Vampire Slayer." It was time to push all those superfluous emotions and feelings under battle techniques, ambush tactics, weapons knowledge. Regardless of how little she actually listened to Giles' lectures, he was right — the Slayer had to make sacrifices. She could do that, would have to do that, and she could cry about Faith later.

The group made their way to the docks when it became dark, being as quiet as possible as they arrived. Buffy and Giles went first, crouched behind several wooden crates, and witnessed a sizeable group of vampire employees waiting and looking attentive. They couldn't see the Mayor anywhere, but it was possible he was waiting in a distant, safer spot. Buffy counted twelve vampires and a sleek, black limousine waiting, and her shoulders slumped. Twelve was too much for two Slayers, let alone a group of semi-experienced, terrified teenagers.

"We waitin' for something?" a quiet voice said next to them, and Buffy had a minor heart attack.

She gasped, put a hand to her thumping heart, and turned to her left to see Faith crouching next to them. She felt a thick, overwhelming relief, so intense it was almost enervating, and then a hot flash of anger. Buffy opened her mouth to whisper something unpleasant and scathing, and then paused as she really examined the other Slayer.

Faith's clothes were coated with dirt and dried blood, her eyes deep-set and hooded, her make-up caked and smudged. There was a long gash on her arm, small scratches on her face, and a pungent smell of day-old alcohol floating around her. She was looking at Buffy with her customary predatory grin that didn't entirely hide the profound sadness and anxiety in her eyes.

Buffy felt her heart wrench, her stomach tighten with a multitude of emotions. She ignored them temporarily and wrapped her arms around Faith, hoping she could convey a measure of her relief silently. She could feel Faith's muscles tensed, her entire body stiffening, before she exhaled deeply and slumped into her arms. Giles looked away and seemed to be utterly fascinated with the vampire employees, one of whom was picking something out of his fangs.

Buffy drew back and found Faith's eyes refusing to meet hers. She put her hand under Faith's chin, brought her head up firmly, and saw her eyes bright and wavering.

"Don't, B," Faith said shakily. "Not now."

Buffy's mouth tightened, but she nodded. Faith turned from her slightly, wiped her eyes surreptitiously with the palm of her hand, and slipped into that familiar, reckless character. She turned back to Buffy with violence in her smile, and Buffy quietly handed her a sword.

"What's the plan?" Faith whispered.

Buffy pointed at a rapidly approaching boat, just visible by the blinking lights on its bow. "Stop whatever comes off that. And try not to die."

The boat cut through the water and pulled up to the docks, where the vampire employees tethered it and waited attentively. Buffy saw one of the vampires giving instructions, a large, brawny guy with a scar running down the side of his long, thin face. He was snapping out directions in a voice that expected nothing less that absolute and unquestioning obedience. Skinner, I presume, Buffy thought.

A man stepped off the boat then, darkness shrouding his features, wearing a top-hat and carrying a hefty-looking box. He approached Skinner, who was watching him closely, and they proceeded to have a conversation in short, clipped voices that Buffy couldn't hear.

After receiving an envelope, the man handed the box to Skinner, tipped his hat and walked back on the boat. Buffy twisted around and caught Willow's apprehensive eyes hiding behind another cache of wooden crates. Willow nodded, her face hardening. She took out a worn book, a smoking bottle, some herbs, and began chanting quietly. A few minutes and incomprehensible Latin intonations later, and Buffy could almost feel a tendril of power rush past her as Willow completed the spell.

All of the vampire employees whirled around as a wooden crate near them suddenly caught fire. A spark leapt off the crate, landed on one of the vampires' sleeves, and he flailed frantically for several moments before dissolving.

Xander, Wesley, and Giles stood up as the vampires were occupied with combusting, aimed their crossbows and let loose with a volley of darts. One vampire crumbled as he was struck in the heart, and another wailed in pain as an arrow buried itself in his leg.

"That's our cue," Buffy said, and she and Faith shot out from behind the crate and sprinted towards the vampires.

"Slayers! Focus on the Slayers!" Skinner yelled, his face contorted in an angry sneer. He was clutching onto the box as he moved behind the small army advancing upon Buffy and Faith.

The two Slayers exchanged adrenaline-fueled glances before launching themselves into the group. They moved seamlessly, staying only feet apart while they literally tore through the first line. Faith was sweeping the sword in wide arcs, slicing appendages like carrots. Buffy was a whirling mass of fists, feet, and stakes, jabbing and punching her way through two vampires in the first thirty seconds.

Buffy found herself taking on three at a time, twisting her body in ways that made her muscles sing, that made her stomach soar. Punches landed on her body and she barely felt them, her entire being focused on reaching Skinner, who was watching the events unfolding with a contemptuous sneer.

She pulled a crossbow dart from one of the vampires' legs and plunged it into his chest, instantly turning in a fluid movement to smash her foot into another's face. Buffy could vaguely see Faith wielding the sword like a machete, her sheer ferocity making up for a distinct lack of technique.

Buffy blocked a punch from one and was kicked in the stomach by another, smashing into a wooden crate and scrambling up immediately to block a right hook. She saw Faith lose her sword and get a foot to the face, stumbling.

"Come on, you pansy motherfuckers!" Faith yelled furiously. She came back with bare knuckles and a maniacal, feral grin, picking up a wooden shard from one of the crates and staking two before they had time to wonder if running away was a viable option.

Buffy, battling another two, saw Skinner drop the box and enter the fray with a guttural snarl. She counted quickly and found they had five vampires left, including Skinner. Make that four, she thought happily, as a dart from Giles' crossbow whizzed into another un-beating heart.

She kicked one of the vampires in the chest, sending him careening into a wall and turned around to receive a fist to her mouth. Her head snapped back and Skinner, his scar livid on his face, followed up with another punch. Buffy ducked it, sweeping his legs out, and he fell to the ground with a pained grunt. Another vampire behind her took advantage of the distraction and wrapped an arm around her neck in a chokehold.

Buffy could smell his rancid breath behind her as she struggled. She saw Skinner getting up with a leer, snapped a brutal elbow to the gut of the vampire behind her, and was released with a groan. Buffy twisted her body in a roundhouse kick, saw the vampire stumble and plunged a stake into his chest.

She could hear Faith grunting and yelling obscenities, could see her throwing bone-splintering punches in the corner of her vision, but her focus was on the vampire in front of her. Skinner was leering unpleasantly at her, looking positively relaxed.

"You know why they call me Skinner, sweet thing?" he said, cocking his head and approaching her lazily.

"Because your human name was Ashley Louise and that was just a tad too Southern Belle for the undead?" Buffy asked sweetly.

Skinner laughed nastily and produced a malicious-looking curved knife. "I like you, Slayer. I'm gonna like you even more when you're in little pieces." He caressed the knife almost lovingly. "You see, my specialty is dragging things out. You'll be begging for death after I'm done with you."

"Hey, you talk much more and I'll be begging sooner than that," Buffy said tightly. Her stake felt reassuring and deadly in her hand.

He leapt at her with a snarl, slicing viciously. She twisted and dodged, kicked out at him, and gasped as the knife slashed through her forearm.

Skinner inhaled deeply through his nose. "Smell that Slayer blood. Gets me all riled up." He grinned at her, lunging again. He was fast with the knife, faster than her. She acknowledged that fact with a calculating detachment, looking for weaknesses. Buffy knew she would have to finish this quickly, couldn't dodge him forever.

He jabbed at her stomach, she sidestepped him and brought her elbow down hard on his wrist, making him grunt with pain and drop the knife. Buffy slammed into him with her shoulder, and Skinner careened backwards towards the edge of the docks. He looked uncertainly behind him, seeing the water, and Buffy grinned.

"Bad luck, Ashley," she said, and kicked him in the chest. Skinner hit the water with a satisfying smack, and Buffy peered down and saw him sputtering and flailing.

"Buffy!" Faith called urgently, and she whirled around, taking in the scene.

Buffy saw Faith struggling with one vampire, and another, his face smooth and human, circling around to grab the box Skinner had dropped. She saw Faith stake the vampire she was currently fighting and sprint towards the box with a frustrated growl. Buffy ran too.

Faith and the vamp reached the box at the same time, and Buffy saw her smash a fist brutally into his face. He dropped to the ground, limp. Faith crouched down and took her stake out, preparing to bury it in his chest, and Buffy suddenly knew that something was terribly wrong.

"Faith, don't!" she shouted frantically, pumping her arms and legs frenetically. Please, no, she thought.

It felt like the moment lasted forever and yet just a split second. She could hear her own shallow breathing, could hear her feet pounding on the wooden docks, could see Faith's face screwed up in anger and satisfaction. Time stopped, Buffy's brain working, and then it sped up as Faith's hand came down in a savage motion.

The stake went in with a horrible, plunging sound. Blood gushed up and she saw Faith looking confused as the body stayed solid. Buffy ran over, feeling as if her muscles had stopped working, crouched next to them and put her hands over the wound. The man, very human, looked down at the wood protruding from his chest, and raised urgent, lost eyes to the Slayers. He opened his mouth, a stream of blood trickled down his chin, and his eyes went terrifyingly vacant.

"What ... I — no — I didn't ..." Faith said weakly, and she scrambled back suddenly, pushing herself off the ground.