Portal

Portal

Prologue

Author: lizardmm

Rated: PG-13

The blonde slayer ran down the narrow alleyway and ducked behind a dumpster. She grimaced and looked down at her feet when she heard a sloshing sound echo in the darkness.

"Great," she muttered to herself, gingerly stepping out of the deep puddle she had somehow managed to tromp through. "Another pair of boots ruined by alley-muck. The Council should really reimburse me. Hazard pay or something."

The sound of glass shattering alerted the California native, and for a moment the Fate of her affordable-but-fashionable boots was forgotten. Buffy's grip tightened on the wooden stake she held in her clenched fist. She didn't know if it was a vampire following her, but in her experience a sharp-pointy-thing generally helped ward off a wide variety of Baddies.

The sound of boots echoed down the empty corridor. "What kind of demon wears boots?" Buffy wondered to herself, trying to mentally narrow down her options.

The stranger's steps clunked closer and closer, until finally coming to a stop a few feet from the experienced slayer. From her crouched position behind the large metal dumpster, Buffy couldn't see who her stalker was, but the tingles at the base of her spine told her to remain alert.

The Chosen One took a deep breath. The disciplined muscles of her crouched legs twitched in anticipation of her attack. Finally, she sprung out from behind the alley dumpster, her weapon flying forward along with her body.

"You!" the blonde girl exclaimed, abruptly stopping her attack mid-air.

"And you," the mysterious form responded. The woman's face showed neither alarm nor relief that Buffy had stopped her attack just in time.

The blonde girl stared at the Slayer standing calmly before her, smoking a cigarette.

"What are you doing following me?" Buffy demanded, knitting her eyebrows together.

"I wasn't following you," Faith frowned. She took a final drag and dropped the wasted cigarette to the pavement, stamping out the smoldering butt with the toe of her heavy boots. "And why were you hiding?" she asked in her usual raspy voice. "Are you hurt or something?"

The golden-haired slayer scowled and returned her wooden weapon to the lining in her light Fall jacket. Living in Cleveland, a town that experienced all four seasons, had forced her to expand her wardrobe, not that she minded the opportunity to buy new clothes.

"I wasn't hiding," Buffy protested. "I was...setting a trap."

The Bostonian smirked. "Setting a trap, eh? And you were the bait?"

A loud shriek interrupted the two slayers' fledgling banter. Buffy's eyes went wide, and she reflexively reached out to grab the dark-haired slayer's wrist.

"What was that?" she worried, holding Faith's hand in a tight grip.

A mangy grey cat jumped on top of a wooden crate and arched its back, hissing at the two women. Upon seeing the animal, the golden-haired woman hastily released her hold on the Boston girl's arm.

"Damn, B," the brunette chuckled. "You're gettin' jumpy in your old age."

Buffy cleared her throat, hoping her face didn't betray her embarrassment. She always managed to make a fool of herself in front of her sister-Slayer. Around Faith she always felt so erratic, neurotic, and awkward while the Boston girl oozed confidence and charm.

"What are you doing here?" she asked, quickly changing the subject. "I thought you were supposed to be in Japan or something?"

"South Korea," the dark-haired woman corrected. "And I'm all done there. Got the new girls and got out." She tilted her head to the side and her neck made a crisp popping noise. "Thought I'd come back to home base and check up with y'all."

"How long are you staying for?" Buffy asked.

Faith shrugged, her shoulders making the leather of her jacket crinkle quietly. "Not long. Just until the Coven locates a new slayer that needs to be brought into the fold."

Another noise, this time louder than the alley cat, startled the two women.

"Okay, now I'm the one gettin' jumpy," the Boston girl stated, her voice nervously wavering. "You're contagious, girlfriend."

"T-that didn't sound like a cat," Buffy observed, her eyes squinting into the darkness. She couldn't make out anything. Her eyes were no longer adjusted to the evening sky now that she had been standing beneath a light pole for the past few minutes.

"Unless someone seriously overfed the fucker," the dark-haired woman noted in a low voice.

"You feel it, right?" The tingles at the base of Buffy's spine had become exponentially stronger. This thing's presence must have been why she hadn't felt Faith following her before. The energy it was throwing out was messing with all her senses.

"Fuck yeah," Faith breathed. "My body's humming like a vibrator."

The ground slightly rumbled beneath the slayers' feet. The standing water in various shallow puddles quivered and rippled.

"Are we on the set of Jurassic Park?" the Boston girl calmly joked.

The earth shook slightly again. Footsteps. Very, very heavy footsteps.

First a foot, then a second, stepped out of the darkness of the nearly abandoned alley. A massive hulk of a demon stood before the two slayers. It lumbered tall above the experienced fighters, nearly as wide as it was tall. The creature didn't appear to have any special powers or weapons on its body, but the massive size of its rocky fists alone suggested it would be a formidable opponent.

Buffy turned her head when she heard her sister-slayer release a low whistle at the sight of the bulky monster. Faith readied herself, forming closed fists in front of her body in a defensive pose. "And here I thought I was gonna get a little vacation comin' back here," she stated wryly.

"Well, you know life on the Hellmouth," Buffy joked, clenching her fists as well. "It's not a normal day unless someone's vacation gets ruined."

"Mind if I have a crack at it first?" the Boston girl questioned, keeping her eyes trained on the slowly advancing demon.

"When have you ever asked permission?" Buffy shot out in reply.

Faith flicked her eyes toward the elder slayer and looked strangely amused. "Just bein' polite, Blondie," she retorted. "Don't wanna step on anyone's toes."

Buffy lowered her fists and grinned. "Then by all means," she gestured grandly, "after you."

The brunette slayer took a step toward the mouth-breathing demon. Its stony jaw was set in a straight line as it regarded the Boston girl.

"You ready to dance?" Faith quipped cockily. "I haven't had a good tumble in a while."

The bulky creature made no indication that it understood the formerly rogue slayer's words. It merely swung its fist backwards like the pendulum of a grandfather clock. Faith grunted, the air quickly leaving her lungs, as the monster slugged her abdomen with a cement fist. The solemn demon effortlessly picked the woman up by the collar of her leather jacket, as she stood stunned and doubled over, and vaulted her into a pile of garbage bags and boxes.

"Hey!" Buffy protested loudly. "You can't just beat up my former enemies like that," she complained.

The Californian advanced on the monster as it gazed upon her fallen sister-Slayer. Buffy climbed to the top of a dumpster and vaulted herself on the creature's back. She tried to grasp the monster's neck in an effort to break its neck, but her hands were too small and the demon's neck too thick. Instead, with alarming agility for being so large, the dangerous creature twisted its trunk, sending Buffy flying into the metal garbage container.

Buffy's slight form slammed into the side of the dumpster, the force of the blow nearly rendering her breathless.

"Wow," she wheezed. "Somebody ate their Wheaties this morning," the blonde girl observed, holding her bruised ribs.

"Slayer," the looming giant growled, speaking for the first time. "I'm not here to hurt you."

"Really?" the Chosen One grimaced. "Cause my ribcage is saying otherwise."

Buffy hazarded a glance toward the pile of broken wooden crates where the Boston slayer's body had landed. Faith's form stirred slightly and Buffy heard her quietly groan. She hadn't been knocked unconscious, but she wasn't going to be much help in the current fight.

The California-born slayer swung her leg out, her foot connecting with the demon's stomach. But instead of staggering backwards from the blow, the monster stood in place as though the Slayer's offensive was little more than an inconvenience. The solid creature grabbed onto Buffy's foot with two bulky hands and easily tossed her through the sky.

Buffy readied her body for the impact, closing her eyes tightly and curling her body into a ball. But instead of crashing into the side of a brick building, she found herself flying toward a green pulsing hole that had suddenly opened up in the wall. The blonde slayer uselessly flailed her arms and legs about, frantically reaching for anything to stop her momentum.

The dark alley, the anonymous demon, Faith, and Cleveland all melted away as the portal swallowed the Chosen One. Bright green light surrounded the golden-slayer's form as she continued to catapult through the air.

"Oh, shit."

Chapter 1: Echo of a Chance

Author: invalid_reality

Rated: R

She expected a hard landing. The green light faded as she dropped down to her feet with a gentle thud. Giving herself a moment to allow her eyes to adjust to the soft light, she noticed she was in an elevator. The gentle hum sounded louder than she knew it was and when it came to a stop, she stood as casually as she could while the doors slid open.

"Hello, Ms. Summers, right this way," a tall dark man said gently as he held out his hand, motioning for her to step out of the elevator. "Adelle will be right with you. Please, take a seat."

Buffy shrugged, following the man over to the couches near the window and she gingerly took a seat. He exited the office, not saying another word to her as the elevator doors closed behind him. She glanced around the room before looking down at her feet, half expecting to see her wet boots. Instead she found herself wearing a set of black heels, a short skirt she wouldn't have gotten caught dead wearing now, and a light white blouse that made her feel uncomfortable. Had this not been extremely weird, she would have enjoyed this sudden change in her attire, but her slayer senses were telling her there was something going on here that would change everything.

Faith's sudden appearance had frazzled her nerves and instead of worrying where she was, she worried about Faith. She'd been left behind in the alley with that demon, the same demon that, Buffy knew without a doubt, was behind her mysteriously being sucked into the portal and transported here.

"Ms. Summers," a woman, older and spoke with a British accent, smiled as she stepped out of the elevator. Buffy rose to her feet as the woman approached her and held out her hand. "I must say it is a pleasure to finally meet you."

Buffy nodded, trying not to look as confused as she felt as she shook the woman's hand and sat back down.

"I must extend my well-wishes. You've been a wonderful client for the past several years and I trust you've enjoyed our services to continue to come back ever so faithfully," she smiled warmly at Buffy.

"Yes," she squeaked out, trying to remain as little freaked out as she was.

"We've provided, as always, the use of the penthouse at the Hilton for you and our active to enjoy the evening together. I've brought you in today to finalize the arrangement. I can assure you that everything will be handled flawlessly, as per usual."

Buffy forced a smile, having not a damn clue what was going on. "Thank you."

"Would you like to choose another active for this engagement, or shall we just go with Echo?"

"Whatever you'd like," she shrugged and she took that moment while the woman opened up a folder laid out on the coffee table to look around the office.

"Would you like something to drink?"

"I'm fine, Ms..."

"Please, as I have told you before, call me Adelle," she smiled as she looked over at her. "Would you like the same imprint, or shall we try something new?"

The smirk on the woman's face sent shivers down Buffy's spine. Since she still had no idea what was going on, or where she was exactly, she just nodded her head and fidgeted with the hem of her short skirt.

"Same as always," Buffy managed to say confidently, flashing a smile at the woman as she watched her pick up the phone and press a number.

She listened as the woman spoke briefly, "Prepare Echo for her treatment for Ms. Summers and have her sent to the location within the hour."

Buffy continued to fidget with the hem of her skirt, knowing she needed to find a way to get in touch with someone back in Cleveland as soon as possible to figure out just what happened and where the portal had sucked her into. Wherever she was, she was known to these people, and that alone made her feel uneasy.

"Ms. Summers, we have a car waiting for you. If there's nothing else, we'll send you on your way right now," Adelle said as she stood up from the chair.

"Uh, thank you," she said softly, her voice faltering slightly as she stood up and allowed herself to be led to the elevator.

"If there are any problems this time, Echo's handler will be waiting in the room next to yours. You do not have any questions about the engagement?"

"No."

"Yes," she screamed at herself as she kept that forced smile upon her lips as she stood in front of the elevator next to Adelle. "What the hell is going on?"

"Do enjoy your birthday," Adelle said warmly, extending her hand to Buffy as the elevator doors opened.

"Thank you," Buffy said shyly as she shook her hand and stepped inside the elevator. As soon as the doors closed and the hum of the elevator could faintly be heard, she let out a frustrated sigh as she leaned against the wall.

Actives. Handlers. Treatment. Engagements. Buffy didn't have the slightest idea what she was getting herself into. What kind of a world had she been sent to? Now just noticing the small black purse slung over her shoulder, she dug through it until she found a cell phone and quickly dialled Willow's number. If anyone could help her figure out what was going on, it was Willow.

"We're sorry, the number you have dialled is out of service. Please hang up and try your call again," the automated voice said after several clicks. "We're sorry..."

Buffy stood there and held the phone in her hands, checking the number on the screen and knowing she hadn't dialled it wrong. Trying again, she got the same message and she hung up just as the elevator doors opened.

"Ms. Summers," the same man she'd seen in the office before was standing there with a broad smile and a hand extended towards her. "Your car is waiting."

She followed him to a black Range Rover just a couple feet away. She glanced around quickly and saw it was a parking garage. Several black vans and identical Range Rovers were parked all around her. There were no other people other than the man whose name she did not know that led her to the vehicle.

"You'll need this," he said as he opened the passenger door and handed her a key card to the penthouse suite Adelle had mentioned. "I will bring Echo around in less than an hour. Everything you'll need for your engagement has been, as always, provided for you and waiting in the room."

Buffy said nothing as she stared at the key card in her hands for a moment before she climbed into the passenger seat. She looked over at the man behind the wheel, who only briefly nodded her way before he backed the vehicle up and headed for the street. She fumbled with the key card and the cell phone, wondering if she should try calling Xander or Giles. Maybe Willow had lost her phone yet again and had to cancel in case some random stranger found the phone and decided to use it. Maybe she had dialled the wrong number, wrong area code. It had to be something.

She took a deep breath, cleared her head and dialled Willow's number slowly. She put the phone to her ear as she looked out the window, instantly recognizing the city around her. LA. She was in LA. She felt like throwing the phone out the window as the same automatic message played. The driver barely looked at her as he stopped in front of the Hilton just two blocks down and got out and opened the passenger door.

"Thank you."

"Pleasure is all ours, Ms. Summers."

She smiled and watched the man walk back around to the driver's side and he was gone. She looked up at the hotel and shrugged as she headed for the doors and walked into the lobby. She looked at the room number on the card and headed straight for the elevators. She tried calling Willow one last time as she rode to the top floor, again receiving the automatic message. She was about to call Giles, or at least try, when the elevator came to a stop on the top floor. She stepped out as soon as the doors had opened and looked at the numbers on the wall in front of her and headed left to the room that was `hers'.

Staying cool, calm and collected, as much as she could, she spent a good ten minutes exploring the rather lavish penthouse suite. If she'd been nervous before, her nerves just catapulted about fifty feet in the air as she walked into the bedroom. Rose petals littered the floor and the large bed. Dozens of candles sat on top of every surface, already lit. A bottle of wine sat on the small table near the large window along with two glasses and a tray of chocolate covered strawberries. Her eyes went wide when she walked to the ensuite bathroom and saw a bath had been drawn and two white, silk robes hung from the hooks on the wall.

"What the hell kind of engagement is this?" Buffy mused as she walked to the large tub and dipped her fingers into the hot, vanilla scented water. "What the hell is an engagement, anyway? Some kind of a date? I guess it beats being stuck in that dark alley with Faith and that demon."

Buffy chuckled to herself as she walked out of the bathroom and headed for the main room. Anything was better than being where she'd been not even twenty minutes before and with the current situation she was in, she couldn't complain. Much. The sky was darkening and she stepped out onto the balcony to watch as the sun set. The hum in her body wasn't one that warned her of impending danger. It was a familiar one, one she just couldn't put her finger on.

She tensed when she heard the door open, yet she couldn't bring herself to turn around to find out just who this Echo was. She felt soft, warm hands run down her back and she shivered despite the warmth. The touch was subtly intimate. Nobody had touched her quite like that in a long, long time.

"Hello, lover."

Buffy shivered again, the voice familiar but not. Warm, soft, wet lips laid a gentle kiss on the side of her neck and she closed her eyes as the hands slid over her waist and pulled her back. She looked down at the hands, feminine hands, as they began to slowly unbutton her blouse. She had to stop this, figure out what the hell was going on, but the fingertips stroked her skin with every button undone. Her body aching for that intimate touch she'd gone so long without.

Buffy slowly turned around, needing to see the face of the woman behind her. Her eyes went wide in shock and she pulled her blouse closed as she took a few steps back.

"Faith?! What are you doing here?"

"Oh, you want to play games this time? It's a nice change from Echo," she chuckled as she took a step towards Buffy. "Who will you be?"

"Faith, cut it out," Buffy groaned as she quickly buttoned up her shirt. "What are you doing here?"

"It's your birthday," she smiled as she took another step towards Buffy. "I'm always here on your birthday."

"No, this is just..."

"Okay, this is seriously, seriously messed up," Buffy panicked as she tried to figure out what the hell was going on.

"What?" Echo asked as she took another tentative step towards Buffy and reached for her hands. "Do you not want to spend your birthday with me? I had something special planned for you and me."

Buffy shook her head and stared at the woman in front of her. She looked so much like Faith, but there was something different about her. The way she spoke, the soft look in her eyes, and the way she held Buffy's hands in her own. There were no calluses; they were all soft. Too soft. Her body was still humming softly. She couldn't find it in her to figure out what was really going on.

"Are you okay?"

"I'm fine, Faith...I mean, Echo," she stammered, quickly correcting herself. This wasn't Faith. She knew it wasn't, but the resemblance to her sister-Slayer was uncanny.

"You can call me Faith, if you'd like."

"That isn't your name though, is it?"

"No," she smiled softly at her, her brown eyes almost sparkling in the dim light of the room. "I can be whomever you want me to be. Do you not remember last year when you wanted me to be Echo?"

"Oh god, why do I feel so dizzy?" Buffy asked herself as Echo moved even closer to her, smiling as she dropped one of her hands and reached up to tuck a stray hair behind her ear.

"They are watching us," Echo whispered, her voice low and husky as she pointed to the camera placed in the corner of the room. "They are always watching us. I can't let them know we know they are watching us."

"What are you talking about? Who is watching us?"

Buffy turned to look at the camera, but Echo stopped her, shaking her head no as she leaned in and kissed her ever so softly. Buffy couldn't stop the gasp of surprise when their lips met in a tender kiss. She was stock still, unable to process what was happening while it was happening. She was standing in a penthouse suite with a very Faith-like woman, kissing her, and she was doing nothing but standing there as if she'd been frozen in time. She should have been disgusted, but strangely she wasn't. The hum in her body was growing intensely by the second.

"What the hell am I doing?" Buffy repeated over and over in her head, still not stopping Echo as those soft, warm hands slid under her shirt and caressed her back, relaxing her even though she was still so tense.

"Are you feeling all right, Buffy?"

"Huh?"

Echo laughed softly as she began to slowly walk backwards, pulling Buffy with her towards the bedroom. "We've only got a couple of hours to celebrate your birthday."

"I..."

"I want to make your night special, just like it is every year," Echo said with a smile as she led her into the bedroom. Buffy resisted a little, her eyes still wide open in shock and surprise at what was happening. "You've been acting strange tonight, Buffy."

"I'm sorry I...this isn't what I expected."

"Are you not happy with what we have planned?"

"I didn't plan this," she whispered under her breath. "I have no idea what is going on!"

"What?" Echo asked, tilting her head to the side. "Are you sure you are feeling okay?"

"This is going to sound crazy, but," Buffy laughed as she shook her head, "I don't think I am from here."

"Of course not. You came from New York," Echo tittered as she began to back Buffy up against the nearest wall. Buffy felt helpless, she felt everything she always felt whenever she was around Faith. "You always come from New York on your birthday just to be with me."

"Do I?"

"Every year for the last three years," Echo smiled as Buffy backed right up against the wall. Buffy bit her lower lip, never having felt more nervous in her life. Echo was sending her thoughts into a tailspin and her body was reacting involuntarily to every little touch. "How do you want me tonight, Buffy?"

"How do I...want you?"

It wasn't until then that she noticed Echo was wearing a long, black trench coat. She watched, eyes wide, breath shaking, as Echo undid the belt and let the coat slip to the floor. If she wasn't already freaking out, which she was, what she felt now was herself about to topple over the edge of a nervous breakdown.

"Oh, God," Buffy breathed, feeling her face flush as she tried not to stare at the very naked woman standing a few inches in front of her.

"What's wrong?"

"I can't...I'm not...can you put the coat back on?" Buffy stammered as she closed her eyes and waited. The blush on her cheeks had crept through her entire body and she couldn't stop herself from shaking. Not even being surrounded by vampires or demons with no way out had made her feel so damn nervous.

She tried to take her mind off what was unfolding and tried to figure everything out. She went through the portal and landed here, wherever she was. She was known here, she was a client of this service that provided her with Echo.

"Is she a hooker? Oh my God, she's a hooker!" Buffy began to panic as she sunk back into the wall as far as she could, still not opening up her eyes. Something was completely off here though, and the more she thought about it, the more she began to realize that she was in a completely different reality, a different version of herself, yet still very much normal Buffy.

And this woman, Echo, who looked too much like Faith, was acting as if this was normal between them. That the intimacy, the intensity of it all was what they always did during these `engagements'. If it was true, if in this reality she did `hire' this woman to have one night with, then it was obvious that in this reality it was what she wanted.

"Oh God. I'm gay in this reality!"

She kept her eyes closed, breathing heavily as she tried to calm herself down. She could handle anything, she knew she could. She faced evil every single day, so why couldn't she handle this? She needed to find a way out of this situation before it got bad, but all those thoughts were lost completely when she felt the soft, warm hand trail up her inner thigh.

Her body was humming, louder now, but it was different. She opened her eyes and stared straight into the pair of brown ones that were staring at her ever so intensely. The green light began to fill her line of sight and if Echo saw it, she made no notice as the tips of her fingers brushed over the edge of her panties. She could feel herself being sucked back into the portal that opened up in the wall and she gasped as she was pulled in with much more force than she had been before.

"Oh, shit. Not again..."

Chapter 2: Buffy Shock

Author: rampantjake

Rated: R

Spewed forth from the portal, the uniquely feminine half of the Chosen Two tumbled inelegantly to the floor sending up a suffocating cloud of dust that immediately clung to her skin and clogged her well-maintained pores. All the grace and dexterity that was inherent to a slayer was nullified by the sudden shock of yet another harsh landing.

She spat at the dust and dry grass that had made its way into her mouth as she splayed on the arid ground in an undignified heap as her bearings fought to re-align themselves. Wheezing as the hard, brittle earth made its way into her lungs, forcing her to break into a coughing fit, she roughly wiped the accompanying tears that sprang from her eyes.

She craned her weary head up to see the ethereal green light that had consumed her fade away, as did her hope that her interminable odyssey had come to an end, as the portal closed leaving her stranded in an unknown place and, more importantly, alone once more.

Buffy frantically wiped her tongue on her sleeve trying to free the small colony of dirt that had taken refuge in her mouth and, she forced herself to her sore feet.

"Oh great, now where the hell am I?" she sighed as she surveyed her new surroundings as the realization that she was no nearer home than before sunk in fully.

Wiping her grubby face, she looked around to see no signs of life, just a cracked dirt trail that wound off into the distance, neatly cleaving field after empty field of wilting yellowed grass. The sun was bright and made the desolate landscape no less inhospitable as she brushed off the dust that cocooned her clothing with its khaki offerings.

"Ewwww," she squawked as she realized that the dirt on her pants was not quite as dry as she had once thought.

'After all those years living with Dawn, you'd think I'd be able to detect crap from a mile away. Oh well, it's not the first time I've been dumped and ended up in deep shit.'

For mile after furlong there was merely tinder dry brushwood, and she toyed with the idea of waiting for the almost clichИd spheres of tumbleweed to roll along, powered by an ill breeze. Her isolation felt stronger than ever with no visible sign of help as she was so tired of this unknown journey. She was as lost as a wordless man in a realm of semantics.

Squinting in the full menace of an unrepentant sun, she could just about make out that at end of the long, unkempt road lay the outline of a distant building. She was unsure as to what nefarious and possibly loathsome creatures such a dwelling could house, but she wanted to be safely inside before darkness descended.

Shaking her head slightly, which loosened yet more dust, she set one foot forward in order to head to the building where she hoped she could find a phone, or at least a mirror.

A silent shriek erupted from her as she trod in the crunchy remains of a dead squirrel, sending up a cluster of flies in its wake, making Buffy swish her thin arms around wildly as they buzzed around her with an unmenacing intent.

"Oh that does it. Hasn't my wardrobe suffered enough? If vultures start circling, I quit," she huffed as she stomped off on her trail as though, despite the fact that sewers and the stench of disembowelment was an aroma she often encountered, she still hated their vile smells.

Realizing that no amount of audience-less quips would help her, she took stock of her options, and since she had no real choice, Miss Summers continued to walk the long and winding road twisting her foot with each step hoping to wipe the stain and the stench from her boots.

The dust that rose with each heavy tramped footprint flurried in the air like miniature mushroom clouds. They caked her feet and worked its way into her socks and irritated her meticulously pedicured toes. She had no time to savor the serenity of the quiet scene as she wanted to reach the end of the Yellow Dirt Road to the ramshackle Oz she pictured in her mind that she prayed wasn't the basis for Deliverance.

No birds sang from the treetops, no snakes rattled defensively, only the faint hum of crickets was her aural companion on her journey, their incessant chirping like a fanfare announcing her arrival.

An hour later, she looked up to see the arid trail still snaking off up the slowly gradiating hill, and though she be of Californian stock, Buffy still withered under the broiling sun that bore down with an unusually cruel majesty as her tongue leathered and razored at her inner cheeks. Its harsh rays lashing at her soft skin making her more parched by the second and felt herself shriveling as tinder dry sticks cracked underneath her assured footsteps unleashing her bored mind upon itself.

'Is this how Faith always felt? Alone, not knowing who or where to turn to? Damn, I've been so blind.... but that's going to change as soon as I get home...if I get home that is,' she thought on with her mind rambling as much as her body.

As she walked she picked up a dry stick and lazily swung it around like a bored child on a school field trip, running it across the neglected wire fence that ran along the side of the road tapping out the "Imperial March" from Star Wars that was stuck like a sonic limpet to her psyche.

'Damn that Andrew,' she thought as her monotony grew in the sparse and silent plain that surrounded her and so resolved herself to add a spritely step to her wandering so she pushed on and as she did she wished more than ever for the comforts of home.

What she wouldn't give to see Willow again, ethical coffee in one hand and Cezanne in the other, even the irritating squeak of Giles cleaning his glasses seemed like a welcome sound. She would even take the mewling of Kennedy as Buffy once more kicked her affluent ass. She felt a little sorry at bruising Willow's girlfriend but she was sure that the redhead didn't mind rubbing lotion all over her and kissing the boo-boo's away.

* * *

* * *

*

As the blurred edges of the domicile in the distance became hardened and focused Buffy could see that it was a bar, replete with pick-up trucks and overflowing trashcans.

"A bar? Out here? Who the hell..." she started but once she crossed round to the front of the long wooden building to hopefully find an entrance, she was surprised to see field after field of lush vineyards that crept out in all directions.

Buffy turned to see the dry and barren route she had been forced to take and sighed at her luck, but her aching throat and sandpaper tongue's need for refreshment overtook her.

She felt a little nervous as she pushed open the creaking door and bathed herself in the light that radiated from the neon beer signs and the low hanging shade over the pool table surrounded by shifty looking bikers who were swapping stories about scars and ill-mannered prostitutes. They all stopped mid-tale to view the new entry to their hallowed yet heathen home from home.

About to ask for help, Buffy was stopped in her verbal tracks by an unexpected assailant of the canine variety.

The blonde girl shrieked and fell on her ass as she was tackled to the floor by a mass of teeth and fur that for some reason carried the faint odor of diesel oil.

"Aarghh, get off!" she screamed as she tried to push the drooling offender away, but its twisting head evaded her girlish flaps of alarm. Buffy's soft eyes widened as panic gripped her even more firmly as she felt the hound's lipstick rubbing against her leg.

"Nononono, that's sooooo gross!" she wailed as the dog continued its lascivious assault.

"Archie, off!" came the stern order from a welcomingly familiar voice.

Buffy looked up as she tried to regain what shred of dignity she still had intact and saw the wide grin of Faith. Or a woman who looked like her at least, confusion was now a common emotion to the chosen girl whose recent encounters with so many identical women had shrouded her in self-doubt. But no matter how many times she saw this face she always felt a sense of joy when she saw those doe eyes, that cocky smile, and those full succulent lips.

"Sorry about that, he's just friendly," the dark-haired woman grinned as she knelt and hugged her vivacious dog.

"I was going to go with slobbery, but friendly will do," replied Buffy as she wiped her rapidly dirtying sleeves with yet another substance that no amount of dry cleaning would remove.

Buffy, still dazed at her moistened greeting, simply stared in awe at the dimple-featured lady who was busy scratching her hound behind the ear who continued to wag its tail wildly.

"You ok, can I get you something?" she asked warmly as she offered her calloused hand out to the slayer who accepted it happily and was hauled back to her feet.

"Tetanus booster maybe," Buffy shot back, her wit drier than the landscape.

"I was thinking more along the lines of a towel."

Buffy stared into the deep brown eyes that could covet a thousand sins yet to be thought of and could feel herself drowning in them with glee. There was something so comforting about being able to stare into Faith's eyes without having the rigmarole rendition of their heinous past being thrust upon them.

"You ok?" asked the brunette cautiously.

"Er...fine."

Before the awkward silence portion of the conversation could unravel itself, Buffy attempted to steer all the attention back to the panting dog.

"Is he...like 'Cujo'?"

"No, Alsatian," the woman answered with a brow tarnished by many a ruffle.

"I meant is he all crazy with the rabies or something?" Buffy explained.

"Oh, don't be like that, you can see he's sorry, aren't you boy?" she said as the dog looked up with a heart melting glare.

"Aww, he is kinda cute," Buffy admitted. "Is he pouting? Can dogs pout?"

"Dunno, this is Archie," the well-endowed brunette introduced with a small chuckle.

"Like in the comics?"

"Yep... Archie, out," she said as she pushed the door open so the horny hound could flee into the fields and pester the local coyote population.

"Is he always like that?"

"No, but he's in heat at the moment and you must smell like..." the be-jugged woman leaned forward and gave the slayer a small sniff, "...shit, actually."

"Thanks, but yeah, I...er, fell over in.....something."

"Heh, it must be girl-dog scent or something. That, or you're a werewolf."

Buffy stared up at this girl with shock that she could be so brazen about the existence of the supernatural, flying in the face of eons of secrecy and slight-of-hand dealings with abhorrent creatures of the night. But once she saw the huge smirk plastered on the brunettes face, she realized that it was merely a joke and she kicked herself at being so immersed in an existence tied with those of mystic origin that she had forgotten that there was a real world out there. With real people. Far removed from her life of bloodshed and battle.

"I'm Joe."

"Buffy."

"Nice."

"Thanks."

"Drink?"

"Please," Buffy said ending the monosyllabic exchange.

Ignoring the stares of the well lubricated patrons of the place, Buffy crossed to the bar with a confident strut desperately overcompensating for her embarrassing entrance, but didn't realize that she was intently staring at the tight jeans that held Joe's gloriously toned buttocks that swayed with effortless sexuality.

"What do you want?"

"Just water please," the blonde said as she sat her own perfectly-formed derriere on a soft leather topped barstool that seemed to sigh at her weight.

Buffy looked around and with the presence of the Faith-look-a-like as well as the smell of leather and cigarettes wafting through the air she, for the moment, felt slightly less alone. That's when she realized just how much she missed her redemption-chasing counterpart.

"So, you work here?"

"Nah, this is my bar. My father was the original Joe and he left the place to me."

"So is this like a retro bar or something?" Buffy quizzed as she accepted the glass of water that Joe slid over the well-polished veneer to her and sipped gratefully.

"What do you mean?"

"Well it's all like....vintagey."

"Vintagey? First, that's not even a word and second, we got all the latest tunes on the jukebox, Deep Purple, Foghat, Aerosmith, even some Blue Oyster Cult. The very best 1976 has to offer," she boasted.

"1976!" Buffy squealed as the numbers rattled around in her head, but blushed as all the heads of the patrons once again turned to her. "You mean like all love beads, mood rings and polyester? Oh ziggy take me home," she sighed and prayed that her body clock was able to switch from digital to analogue.

Looking up the out of place clock on the far wall Joe noted the time.

"Jeez, you started early," came the distinctive rasp of the buxom hostess.

"What?"

"It's not 4:20 yet."

"What are you talking about?"

"Are you toasted already?" The esoteric questions of a bizarre nature kept coming as Joe peered inquisitively into Buffy's eyes.

"Toasted? Huh? Oh, no I get you...no, I don't do drugs...no, no not me.....not at all...ever.

"Fair enough," Joe said as she clasped her hands over her head and leaned back working out the kinks in her spine. Her flower-printed wide collared top tightened on her flexing bosom and pulled at the knot tied off just above her smooth midriff.

Buffy couldn't help but stare down the glorious cleavage of the delectable bar owner.

"So can I get you a real drink, honey?" she asked with a warm tone to overlay her smile of undiluted effervescence.

The slayers mind was still fuzzy at the breastacular display that she was privy to witness and so the question simply rebounded off her but a firm click of Joe's fingers in front of her face pulled her back to the present.

"Huh?"

"I said what can I get you?"

Looking at the dozens of bottles behind the bar Buffy decided that simplicity was the best option.

"Er, wine?"

"Well you've come to the right place. What kind?"

"Er....white?"

Joe smiled back, obviously amused at the blond girls feeble attempts to elevate herself above the riff-raff and seem like a connoisseur.

"Tell you what, let me choose for ya."

"You're not going to ID me?" Buffy asked almost out habit as she did like to seem younger than she was.

"Is there a reason I should?"

"N-no, I'm twenty-two."

"Then I'm not going to card you. We're pretty relaxed around here, besides everyone here works at the vineyards so they drink all the time."

Joe uncorked a bottle and poured the local wine into a crystal clear long-stemmed glass. "So you one of the interns?"

"Huh? The interns? Oh no, I'm not in a band."

"What?" Joe chuckled with her deliciously full throated rasp, "No, I meant the interns...for the vineyard."

Buffy looked around and saw that a majority of the imbibers of the fermented grape were young, perhaps even younger than her.

"The only people who come up here in the summer are interns...or mules to supply the interns, you dig?'"

"Er no...yes, I'm an intern, I'm here to do....all interny things.... with my fellow interns," Buffy said raising her voice at the end almost questioningly.

"Man, now I know you're on the old herbal confusion, maybe just half a glass for you," Joe mocked with a shake of her head that swung her pendulous hooped earrings with a captivating motion.

"No, no, I'm good. All is of the good," Buffy replied with a flash of her pearly off-whites as she sipped her drink. "Oooh, this is nice wine."

"You were expecting what....Thunderbird?" Joe smirked back before turning to attend to other customers.

Buffy sipped once more and savored the refreshing taste and breathed in the scene as she spun on her bar stool and looked out the front windows and across the valley that teamed with grapes and lush looking vines.

'Yep, this view is much better than the one I saw on the way up here. Long sunny days, not much cover for vamps, this could be a pretty sweet deal. Ehh, I've been in worse situations', her thoughts told her and punctuated them with a shrug.

Though separated from her friends, family, and foot-spa she felt strangely peaceful, as if she were able to relax for once in these beautiful surroundings with a glass of fine wine and the company of a familiar face. And so she accepted her fate, however temporary, with aplomb.

* * *

* * *

"Hey there, little lady. Don't often get girls as pretty as you `round here," came the creepy sneer of a man who looked to be in his late twenties who flashed his nicotine yellow smile at the blonde. After all the demonic fiends Buffy had encountered, it was the human monster that still freaked out the slayer the most. His tie-dye shirt just confirmed the fact that he was as colorful a miscreant as she was ever likely to meet and inflict himself upon her.

"I'm Danny, I work over at Rohaldo's vineyard," he said as he outstretched his hand, but once seeing the amount of dirt under his fingernails Buffy just stared at him.

"Ahem, if you're looking for a place to stay you can always bunk down with u," he continued with a wiggle of his right eyebrow that was neatly dissected by a scar.

"That's ok dumbass, I mean Danny. This is my...cousin. She's here for a few days and she's staying with me, right Buffy?" Joe interrupted, shooting the unshaven man the kind of vicious glare that could strip wallpaper.

"Er...right, yeah...cousin...that's me," the slayer spluttered out though she had no inkling to stay with this captivating woman, no matter how relaxed she felt in her presence, but at this point it seemed like the lesser of two evils.

"That's a shame, well you know where I am if you change your mind," he smirked with a pinkeye tinged wink as he swaggered out the bar and into the sunlight that bathed the foliage like a subtle flame.

Joe brought Buffy over to one side of the bar and as soon as she saw Danny had gone from her line of sight she leaned into the blonde conspiratorially.

"What's his damage?", Buffy asked.

"Brain mostly," Joe said back with a light voice. "Y'see most of the interns who come here every year aren't here to `till the soil and nurture the vine' as they say. They're just students looking to enjoy themselves. They say it's for work experience and to look good on their resumes, but really it's an excuse for them to sit in a field and get stoned off their asses, and he hooks them up."

"But what was that about?"

"The guy is an idiot. He thinks that a fine bon mot is a decent vintage; he doesn't know shit about wine. He just works at his Dad's vineyard and uses alcohol to make up for his lack of personality. They don't produce much wine, but they let all the kids work there over the summer. They don't mind if they're all drunk or cained. Laid back maybe but I always get a bad vibe from those guys, and his place is about five miles away, and I wouldn't want a skinny wee thing like you wandering about in the wilderness all alone."

"No, I meant about me staying here?" she replied overlooking the 'skinny wee' jibe.

"Why, do you want to go stay with him?"

"God no, I'd rather eat my own head," Buffy snipped back.

"Look, I think it's pretty obvious you're not a student."

"No I am...I'm studying, er, computer science."

"Now I know you're lying," Joe said with a serious tone that caused Buffy's fallacy to crumble before her. "Are you like on the run or something?"

"Or something," the slayer whispered back as her head dropped until she stared at her hands that fidgeted nervously in her lap.

"You wanna use the phone, call your folks maybe? Hang on, I'll be right back," Joe said as she went to serve two vodka's to a gurning duo of bikers.

'Use the phone? And call who exactly? I'm not even born yet. Angel? I have no idea where he was in the seventies and Giles is still in England doing his 'Ripper' thing. Sunnydale is out as what would I do once I got there? That portal dumped me here so there must be some kind of mystical doodad thingy going on here so maybe it'll open up again once I've slayed whatever needs slaying. I'll just have to wait it out.'

Whilst watching Joe share a joke with her loyal customers, the slayer's peripheral vision accosted a hand that was stealthily sneaking into the brimming full tip jar. Chipped nails grabbed at a twenty that hung slightly over the rim but as he pulled it down, before he could slip it into the pocket of his flared pantaloons, Buffy slammed her hand on top of his and began to squeeze.

"What's your name?" she asked as she looked him deep in the startled eyes as the crack of knuckles permeated the unasked for introduction.

"W-w-why?"

"I like to know the names of people whose asses I'm about to kick."

"J-John," he grimaced under Buffy's tightening grip.

"John?"

"Y-y-yeah", he groaned with a voice that was rapidly becoming alto.

"Just go," Buffy sighed as she let his rapidly bruising hand go not wanting to disrupt her evening that had been otherwise free of the pugilistic arts.

The embarrassed would-be thief just cradled his pasty fingers and fled through the door and off into the fast approaching twilight of the evening.

"Thanks girlfriend, that was pretty sweet. There's always some jerk trying to rip me off," Joe said as she returned to Buffy wiping her hand on a checkered bar towel.

"No problem, I don't like seeing people take advantage of someone like that," she said as she put the bill back in the jar.

Joe just flashed those resistance crumbling, libido enhancing dimples and before she even could think about it Buffy blurted out the question she had not intended to ask. Not directly at least.

"Were you serious about that? About me staying here I mean?"

"Sure, you seem pretty honest and that's a rare quality and one my Dad, God rest his soul..." Joe said as she made the sign of the cross over her curvaceous torso, "held above all others. I loved the way you handled that guy and I really could use a girl like you around here. But if there's one thing my dear old Dad taught me it was there's no such thing as a free ride."

Buffy gulped as a cavalcade of sordid thoughts about what kind of 'service' she would be asked to provide echoed around her mind.

"I'm not going to sleep with you," Buffy whispered coyly.

"What? What kind of girl do you take me for? I meant you work here, y'know collecting glasses and washing dishes and shit. You can crash in the back if you want. There's a cot in the store room, just as long as you're not a murderer or something," Joe smiled kindly.

Buffy digested the offer and weighed up her options. She could either sleep outside in the bushes with no food and be pestered by a horny dog and a sleazy stoner, or she could be a dishpig for a while. It wasn't glamorous, but then again beheading demons and wading through corpses wasn't either.

"Ok, I'll do it."

"Good girl. You can take a shower if you want, I think you need it. The bathroom's out the back, up the stairs, and the second on the left. There's a change of clothes up there too...I'm taking a chance on you here, Buffy, I trust you won't let me down," she ended seriously.

"No, I won't let you down Fai...er, Joe," she corrected herself and went into the back room.

Thirty minutes later, a thoroughly cleansed and somewhat eager Buffy re-appeared behind the bar.

"Ready Boss," she said affirmatively with a salute.

Joe eyed her new employee up and down. The bell-bottomed jeans suited the blonde as did the flowery peasant blouse that caressed her in all the right places with her crucifix pendant catching the artificial light and twinkling brightly.

"Wow, girl. You scrub up well," Joe said as Buffy blushed a little. "Ok, I'm behind the bar so all you gotta do is take this tray, collect the empties, and go and wash them up. Couldn't be easier, lucky for you we stopped serving food now."

"That's handy 'cos I suck at cooking."

"Good to know, now go get 'em tiger," Joe encouraged with a mock coach glower.

As Buffy set about collecting the glasses with her borrowed low-slung heels bouncing off the pristine hardwood floor, she paused as she felt peculiar. It wasn't the tingle she felt whenever the undead were circling, nor was it the ever present ennui she felt when Giles was in full research mode. It was a long forgotten, almost alien feeling for her.

It was one of safety, of secureness, at being shown such kindness without reward or the threat of violence. She felt she could be happy here, away from the life she had been forced to lead. But in her heart she knew this was but a brief vacation from the world of slayers and their calling. But she couldn't escape the feeling that she was here to kill as why else would she be here if not to stop a demon of some kind?

"You ok, Buffy?" Joe asked with genuine concern as the blonde stood motionless trapped in her own thoughts.

"Er yeah...fine, I, er, I better...do... work...do some work, I mean," she replied a little shyly as she took the tray and began to pile up the glasses on her tray.

* * *

* * *

*

As she wiped and rinsed glass after glass she secretly pondered how people actually lived in a time before dishwashers. It was an endlessly repetitive cycle and though it was little more than an hour or two, Buffy felt like she had been wrist deep in suds and hot water for days.

"Hey Buffy, we're running low out here," Joe bellowed from the bar area snapping the slayer from her rambling.

"Coming."

Stacking up as many wine glasses as she could onto one tray in order to save time, Buffy wandered back to behind the bar and placed the sparkly glasses along the shelves feeling a little proud at the top notch effort she had made, just as another group of customers sidled in.

'Great', she thought, 'I hope they just want bottled beer 'cos I'm going to be in serious need of a manicure when all this is over.'

"Heya 'Stavo," Joe greeted the stocky Hispanic man.

"Hi, Joe."

"Bo," the dark haired proprietress nodded curtly to the disheveled man who walked in with him. "Been wearing your palms out again?"

"Joe, for the last time, oenology has nothing to do with onanism," he joked back.

"Sure it doesn't, what can I get ya?"

"Just beer today," said Bo sweeping his scruffy blond hair back hooking it behind his ears.

"Coming up. Oh this is Buffy. She's new," Joe nodded to the girl who had crossed back into the busy main area of the bar and continued with her glass collecting duties.

"Hi, Buffy..." greeted 'Stavo, leaning forward expectantly.

"Buffy...er, Lehane," she said the first surname that came to mind surprising herself that Faith's was the first that she thought of.

"Buffy Lehane?" asked Joe."It's cute. It suits you."

"Er, thanks," came the swift and blush infused reply of the blonde girl as she piled up her tray once more.

"These your interns?" Joe nodded to the group of teens that surrounded her friends.

"Yep, this is Nick, Maria..."

His introduction was interrupted by the sound of smashing glass and the heavy thwack of the metal tray hitting the floor. Everyone stared at Buffy who stood by her dropped tray surrounded by shards of glass and just stared open mouthed as she took in the distinctive visage of the blonde intern who stood at the back. Her face was younger, her skin was tighter, and her smile more genuine, but there was no doubt as to who she was.

"Mom?" Buffy whispered hoarsely.

"Mom? Please, I'm eighteen," Joyce snorted back as she pulled her big translucent pink shades off and slid them back in her Farrah Fawcett hair.

Buffy's mind was reeling. She couldn't believe it. All those times she had wished upon shooting stars and prayed to gods she didn't believe in for the chance to see her Mom just once more. To be able to hold her. To tell her how much she loved and missed her.

"Buffy, are you ok?" Joe asked a little shocked at the girl's reaction.

"I...um....yeah...I just....umm....she reminds me of someone....a friend," Buffy blurted out before biting her lips hoping that her tears wouldn't roll, but inside she thanked whatever powers that be that sent her here as she now had the chance that she would willingly give her life to be able to do.

"You have a friend...called 'Mom'?" Bo asked with a raised eyebrow. "Huh, she started early."

"That's what I said, but don't worry; she's cool. Hey, Buffy take five," Joe added feeling a unusual sympathy for her new friend.

As Joe fetched the broom to sweep up the broken glass, the temporary silence was diffused by her need for an answer. "Ok, which one of you is the designated driver?"

A heavily bearded man raised his hand cautiously denoting his compliancy to the rules of the house.

"Ok, no drinks for you, and only beer for the rest of you," Joe announced showing her leniency to the laws of the land.

"Cool," said the black haired Maria as she grabbed for the offered bottle of Budweiser and swigged from it thirstily.

"I saw Danny outside, what's he hanging around for?" 'Stavo quizzed.

"Why d'ya think?" Joe nodded to the pretty new vineyard workers who radiated naivety.

"Ahh," he nodded back and continued to swish his wine through his teeth.

"So, what do you think of Danny's wine?"

"I think he's got delusions of adequacy," the Hispanic man bluntly responded.

* * *

* * *

*

Buffy sat in the back room crying openly for her Mom, for being given this chance to spend sometime with her. Was this why she was here? Had the powers-that-be decided to reward all her efforts by allowing her to spend some time with her deceased mother? All the feelings of dread and hopelessness that had gnawed at her soul following her mothers passing re-emerged as she sat on the floor with her knees brought up under her chin and wrapped her arms around herself.

'She looks so young, so pretty, so.... happy,' she thought to herself as her tears cascaded down her sweet face.

"Buffy?" Joe asked softly as she walked into the back room and saw the obviously distressed woman.

The proprietress kneeled down and stroked Buffy's forearm gently,

"I just...my Mom died...that girl out there...she just...", she stammered around hers sobs before succumbing to them once more as she flopped into Joe's arms. The brunette just held her tightly as all the once overcome emotions flooded from the blonde.

"Shhh, it's ok Buffy, it's ok."

The purring voice enveloped Buffy's senses and that's when she realized just how much comfort she felt in the soft voice of Faith and how much she really needed someone who truly understood the pain of loss and despair. Common ground for the Chosen Two.

After a few minutes Buffy pulled from the welcoming hug and roughly wiped her nose.

"Thanks Fai...er Joe."

"No problem," came the warm reply. "I'll give you a few minutes, ok?"

"No, I'll be alright," Buffy said as her patented stubbornness was reborn within her as she made her way to her unsteady feet.

"You sure?"

"Yeah."

"Ok, just carry on working, but if you need to come back here just do it, ok?" Joe empathized.

"I will, thanks."

Joe gave one last soft smile and went back to the bar as Buffy looked in the mirror at her puffy eyes, cursing her lack of concealer. Rallying her courage, she took a deep breath and went out ready to face her mother again.

* * *

* * *

* *

When Buffy came back into the bar, she looked around but didn't see her mom anywhere. At first she thought it had been a figment of her imagination but she hoped it wasn't, not some cruel joke by whatever demon sent her into this portal. To mock her with images of things like that were beyond her grasp.

"Er, Stevie."

"It's 'Stavo."

"Sorry, 'Stavo...have you see Mo...er, Joyce?" the slayer asked.

"She went outside with Maria."

"Cool, thanks."

Joe nodded to Buffy who mouthed back a silent 'thank you' and went out into the darkness to find the woman she missed more than anything.

"So that Joyce," started 'Stavo, "Fifty bucks says Bo nails her by the end of the weekend."

"I'll take that, Joyce is hot," Bo finished with a wine infused grin.

A tall and straggly haired intern just grimaced at the seemingly thoughtless feelings for the girl he had just met, but was certainly attracted to. He swigged from his beer and wiped the stray bubbles from his thick beard but kept quiet, not wanting to make a scene. Chivalry was to take second place to alcohol on this night.

* * *

* * *

* *

"Smoke?" asked parking lot malingerer Danny as he handed out a slowly burning joint to his new companions.

"Cool," Joyce replied as she took the offered smoke from him and inhaled deeply before passing it to the raven haired Maria.

"So you around for the summer? 'Cos Ted Nugent's playing in three weeks, I can get tickets y'know," Danny lied.

"That'd be sweet," enthused Joyce who was not attracted to this disheveled man in the slightest, but she felt it was always good to have someone with connections on her side.

"So you off to college in the fall?" the creepy man continued, inching ever closer to the girls, sweeping his hands through his greasy hair.

"Yep, not sure about studying that much, probably be occupying various administrative buildings in protest and stuff," the blonde intern bragged casually trying to up her cool stakes.

"Protesting what?"

"That's not the point," Joyce shrugged as she took the joint back from Maria who was fast feeling the thc's ripple through her system.

"I think..."

"Joyce?" called Buffy, interrupting Danny's distinctly creepy drawl.

The slayer saw the three of them and smelt the sweet fumes of a comforting habit waft through the night air. Her eyebrows shot up as she saw her mother leaning back with smoke wafting up from her soft lips. Shock was not a word strong enough for what she was feeling at the moment, but whatever it was it came coupled with a diluted anger.

"What do you think you're doing?" the slayer squawked.

"What do you mean?"

"You're out here...smoking... and you...you look like some kind of...hoochie-coo," she finished slightly flustered at Joyce's appearance that she had not taken in until now.

Buffy looked her up and down noting every little thing from her pierced navel to her homemade cloth purse. She saw the generous amount of love beads that hung low across Joyce's ample bosom covered by a faded KISS t-shirt knotted just above her midriff which just showed that she was obviously not wearing a bra as her nipples were sticking out like she was smuggling Fruit Pastilles.

Joyce's feet now stood defiantly apart showing her scuffed cowboy boots and a pair of frayed Daisy Duke's that hugged at her crotch like a possessive lover as the smoke curled from her joint. She raised it up to her full glossy lips and inhaled deeply as it crackled away.

"Wait...is that pot? Are you stoned?!" Buffy shrieked at the woman she only knew as the buttoned-down wife and mother. Not the young, vibrant and free-loving spirit she once had been.

"You...you....you can't smoke that!"

"Screw you, narc. I can do what I want," Joyce snipped back and took another head lightening drag just to prove her point.

Buffy snatched the joint from her mother's fingers and stomped it out with menace into the dry dirt.

"What the fuck do you think you're doing?" the future Mrs. Summers yelled.

"I'm just...did you just use the 'f' word? What's wrong with you? You can't go h-h-hanging around with guys and smoking dope!"

"I can do what I want...you're not my mother!" Joyce snapped back.

Buffy's mouth fell open at this unexpectedly curt side of her Mom.

"I..I...if I was your Mom.....I'd be so disappointed. You can't go around acting like this."

"Oh shut up, you prude," Joyce mocked standing face-to-face with her irate daughter.

"Yeah, well you're a...a...shut up yourself"

"Hey, you oughtta take a sweet leaf outta my book...chill out, girl," piped in Maria, lost in her own herbally administered realm.

"Hey, what are you saying? I'm cool."

"Whatever, narc. God, you're so conservative. Your Mom must be a real drag. I'd hate to have a daughter like you, so prim and proper and.."

"...square," Danny interjected as the two interns giggled.

Crueler words had seldom been spoken to the slayer, and she felt her fingers ball up into knuckle-whitening fists as she bit her lip hoping to stop her tears from spilling once more.

"Don't you dare speak to me like that."

"Oh piss off, Barbie," said Joyce tiring of this intrusion of her leisure time.

"It's Buffy, actually."

"Pfft, whatever, narc," she replied.

"Hey, just leave them alone or do you want me to...." Danny tried to threaten but was cut off by a sharp jab to his nose. "Jeez, what is your problem, bitch?!"

The three of them were suddenly bathed in the light of the bar as Joe opened the door and stared at the quarrelling, stoned, and bleeding quartet.

"Danny, fuck off," she stated simply, to which the man just shuffled off into the night swearing to himself. "Buffy go inside, I'll handle this."

"Busted!" the slayer mocked in an effort to disguise her hurt and trundled back into the bar followed by a swaying Maria who had sudden craving for nachos.

"So, you out here getting high?" Joe asked with her best authoritarian tone.

"Yeah, so? What, some barmaid gonna rat on me," Joyce boasted as she pulled out her own badly rolled joint from her supple cleavage.

"I'm no barmaid. I own this place so anything that goes on my property is my business."

Joyce went quiet as her bluff of defiance had been called. It was one thing to show off to her peers, it was another to openly mock someone who could call the cops and bust her, and she knew that a conviction involving illegal substances could seriously jeopardize her scholarship.

Her lower lip trembled slightly, partly from fear, but partly to manipulate the brunette into sympathizing with her.

Joe looked at Joyce for a minute. She'd seen her type before, fresh out of school with a head full of unattainable idealism with the belief that the three 'r's stood for refuse, resist, rebel. Fuelled by the mistaken belief that she could truly effect change in this world, for she had been there and got the scars to prove it.

"So, you gonna light that?" Joe asked with a smile not even bothering to try the stern owner routine anymore.

Joyce's eyes lit up warmly at the gesture of acceptance and so she touched the end of her joint to the flame of the lighter being held out by Joe.

"I'm Joe."

"Joyce," came the reply as they shook hands that lingered a little too long for a casual acquaintance.

Passing the reefer to Joe, the brunette's chest swelled mightily as her lungs filled with the medicinal smoke. "Hmmm, nice. Haven't had any Mendecino since the 'stock."

"You were at Woodstock?"

"Hell yeah, don't remember much of it though."

"I wish I was there," Joyce admitted.

"Weren't you like ten or something?"

"Eleven actually."

"Heh, still too young to smoke...but what more do you need for a long hot summer than sex, drugs and Skynyrd," they chuckled together instantly falling into a relaxed rapport.

Joe leant across Joyce, reaching for a flower that hung from the well-tended window boxes that she felt rightfully proud of maintaining to such a professional degree, which was no mean feat in such a harsh terrain. Joyce instinctively sniffed at her, inhaling the scent of Chardonnay and cinnamon as Joe pulled the flower from its resting place and put it behind the younger girl's ear.

They shared a quiet smile and felt a strange urge flood from within them as they became lost in each other's eyes.

"I...I like the flower," Joyce said shyly.

"It's called Jonquil. It comes in white or yellow, but I prefer the white."

"It's pretty."

"So are you," Joe said softly, not even attempting to fuzz the issue with unnecessary rhetoric.

The carefree teen blushed at the compliment, but wasn't embarrassed by its nature, but how welcoming it was on her ears.

"Can I give you a bit of advice?"

"Oh God, I had to listen to Maria babbling all the way up here with her 'A good donkey will often outlast a great marriage' theory," Joyce whined.

"No, nothing like that, just stay away from Danny...he's bad news."

Joyce saw the serious look on Joe's face and nodded compliantly, but behind those chocolate orbs she saw something else. A mischievous twinkle dancing around her pupils as Joyce felt herself drawn deeper into the pools of unspoken desire and licked her lips.

"But I never get to meet anyone cool," she whined in the traditional Summers way.

"I'm sure you'll meet some guy at college and live happily ever after."

"God, I'd hate to go for the marriage and two kids thing and end up stuck in one of those boring suburban humdrum lives."

"So what do you want?"

"I wanna be the next Joan Baez or Hanoi Jane. I want to paint, I want to sing, I just want to be..."

"Free?" asked Joe.

"Yeah free, man. Free to find out who I am...what I want..." she said as she rubbed her hands up Joe's peach soft forearm to which the brunette just smiled back loving the feeling of her fingers on her skin.

"C'mon, let me get you a drink."

"Ok."

* * *

* * *

* *

Buffy washed what seemed like the thousandth glass of the evening and wiped her sweaty brow with her soapy fingers. Though she was battle hardened and used to the fray she was unused to such manual labor. But nothing comes without a price in this world. Or the next.

"Hey how about some service?" came the booming request of a punter from the bar area.

Buffy stuck her head round the door and saw that Joe was still outside with her Mom —

she hoped talking some sense into her. Buffy took the bull by the horns and decided to take over at the bar; it was the least she could do for all of Joe's kindness. Wiping her hands on the damp bar towel, she bounded up to the counter opposite the gruff man in his mid-forties wearing a suit which made him seem wildly out of place.

"Er, what can I get you 'cos I'm not too good with wine," the slayer admitted. "Heh, I don't even know a merlot from a claret"

"A merlot is a claret," the clearly unimpressed liquor fiend said with a roll of the eyes.

"Oh," Buffy replied bashfully and grabbed the first bottle she could find.

"How about this; it's called Chablis," Buffy said phonetically.

"It's pronounced Shab-Lee."

"Oh well how about Mont..er, Montre.."

"It's ok, Buffy, I got it...you just go back to collecting the glasses, ok?" Joe yelled as she came back in with her new friend, wiping the malingering ash from her sleeve.

Swapping positions with the slayer Joe slipped behind the bar and instinctively began to pour drinks whilst not releasing Joyce from her gaze as they stood opposite each other.

"Don't worry, the wine's on me, kind of like a welcome gift. I bet you're in the mood for something young and firm, just a little bit fruity....'cos I know I am," Joe finished with a wink that sent shudders through Joyce's nether regions.

"I..I'm not much of a drinker."

"It's ok, you're only gonna get a couple of glasses. I ain't running a charity here, and I'm not gonna get you wasted."

"Cool, thanks Joe."

"No problem...Joy," they said as they clinked glasses.

As Buffy busied herself around the bar, she saw how Joe was watching her mother closely and was grateful for it. 'Thank God someone's going to keep an eye on Mom. Who knows what a stoned Joyce Summers could get up to...it's like the band candy all over again. Crap, I better make sure she doesn't sleep with anyone this time, but it looks like Joe's keeping an eye on her. I must thank her later, she really is cool and I get to hang out with Mom...even if she is all crazy and shit. I'll talk to her when she's more sober. Tomorrow maybe?'

Buffy flashed a tearful smile to both Joe and Joyce as she went into the backroom to resume her washing duties. The two mildly stoned women at the bar shared an unusually protracted gaze feeling lost within it but were torn as 'Slow Ride' by Foghat blared through the jukebox.

"Oh, I love this song," Joyce gushed.

"Me too, come on," Joe said as she grabbed Joyce's hand and pulled her over to the swarming dance floor.

Joyce spun on her well-worn heels and came face to face with the brunette. As they danced they came closer and closer as they were both feeling the effect of that joint mixing with the sharp hit of the wine.

The sparks between them were not restricted to the static electricity between the dueling knots on their tops as Joyce felt her bravery bolstered by her slight stoned-ness and slipped a finger through Joe's belt loop and rubbed the oval buckle with her thumb, drawing them closer together until their perky breasts rubbed against each other and their lips became dry and their breath ragged.

The brunette's soft fingertips ran over the honey-drop sheen of Joyce's midriff and with a mnemonic sway to their hips and a salubrious grin of Chardonnay enchantment their eyes locked onto each others. An incorruptible attraction had ensconced itself upon them and was too ill mannered and wanton to leave.

Dual smiles fought to be reined in, to remain hidden as to not reveal their muted mutual attraction, but brief flirtations should be savored within the moment. A dalliance not to be contrived or overanalyzed but something to be cherished as something unspoken passed between them that fed their slow desires and pierced their restrained sensibilities.

"You got something..." Joe started as she reached her fingers forwards and wiped a droplet of wine from Joyce's chin with a tender stroke letting her fingers linger for a moment too long but retracted them before an awkward discomfort could set in. Once the droplet was on her fingers she made sure that Joyce followed her gaze and brought it to her soft and tender lips and drew the liquid from them with it a soft pop.

"Service please, Joe," came the raised voice of 'Stavo as he swung his empty glass high in the air.

Silently cursing her friend, Joe broke from her lust ridden dance and rather than Buffy trying to take over behind the bar she knew she had no choice but to get back to her work. She smiled weakly at Joyce who returned it emphatically and continued to dance.

"May I join you?" came the voice from behind Joyce making her jump. She recognized the hairy intern from their long drive up to the Napa Valley in a cramped van without air conditioning.

"Oh, er yeah, why not."

Joyce swung her hips along to the sound of seventies pop as the fuzzy faced man pulled her into a tight embrace to dance. As they swayed along to the music Joyce's eyes were elsewhere as her brain fogged a little by wine and pot.

As Joe busied herself behind the bar she couldn't tear her eyes from the tight rear end of Joyce that shimmied across the wooden floor and felt somewhat jealous of the lank haired man flitting around her. She cursed the fact that they were so busy tonight and sighed as she forced herself to accept that the moment...their moment had come and gone.

Fixing a smile upon her face, she poured drinks and swapped idle banter with her regulars but every now and then caught the glance of Joyce who instantly blushed and looked elsewhere. She was intrigued.

* * *

* * *

* * *

As the last of the customers had at last gone and all the interns piled into their van and drove off into the night, Joe and Buffy set about cleaning up from the nights revelry.

"Urgh," Buffy moaned as she emptied yet another ashtray, "I can't wait until they ban this."

"Ban smoking in bars? Oh please, we're more likely to get some crappy actor as president," Joe snorted.

The slayer wanted to speak up about the simple prophesying she had just heard but after being made to sit through that Back To The Future marathon at Xander's request, she knew that messing with the past could seriously affect the future in ways she couldn't even comprehend.

"So where do the interns stay?"

"They stay at this old monastery. It's right in the center of the vineyard, so it's easy for them to drag their asses out of bed and get to work."

'Monastery? Cool, consecrated ground. One less thing for me to worry about I suppose.'

Joe closed the faded and yellowing blinds and dead-bolted the door, pausing to softly stroke the dusty fur of her now sleeping dog. Her liquor hardened hands ran across the smooth veneer of the bar as she picked up a bottle of 1971 Chaval Blanc and two glasses as her sharp heels clacked on the wooden floor.

"Drink?" she offered.

"Erm, sure why not...been a long day," Buffy sighed back and flopped down onto the sturdy wooden chair as her new friend put the drinking accoutrements on the table.

"This is a really nice year. I think you'll like it."

"Thanks," Buffy said politely as the wine of a robust nature splashed into the glasses.

"No problem, just let it breathe for a bit," said Joe as she sat opposite her and opened a small tin and pulled out a joint and lit it breathing deeply. "So where you from?"

"Sunnydale...I'm not really sure how I got here. Ha-ha, at least I'm not in a galaxy far, far away," she jibed.

"What?"

"Oh yeah, it's not out yet," she tried to cover up her faux pas. 'How do I know that it wasn't out until '77.....damn that Andrew!'

"How come all the vineyards are out that way?" she asked attempting to segue into a different conversation.

"Poor soil or something," Joe shrugged.

The heavenly aroma of fresh grass filled the air accompanied by the soft crackle of the burning joint making the bar smell like a real woman's paradise.

"Is that pot? What is it with everyone here?"

"It makes you feel..."

"Nauseous?"

"Very funny, I only smoke three or four joints a week, Buffy. At the end of a hard day most people relax with a glass of wine or a beer or something. I''m around drink all the time so this," she waved the crisping doob about, "is my release. Surely you got some way to get all that shit out Buffy?"

"So...cough...what did you...cough......say to Joyce?" the blonde exaggerated her splutters and tried to veer away from any conversation that would involve the words 'demons', 'slaying' or 'multiple evisceration'.

"What is it with you and Joyce? Do you have a thing for her or something?"

"Ewww, dear God a world of no! No. It's just she really does remind me of my Mom. She died a few years ago."

"Sorry."

"It's ok...I just miss her...a lot. But what did you say to her?"

"I just told her to stay away from Danny. He's fucking witchcraft."

"You mean like a warlock, all spells and talismans and such," the blonde perked up.

"No, I mean he's the kind of guy to get her wasted and fuck her and never call her again."

"Sounds like your talking from experience."

Joe's silence was all the answer Buffy needed.

"After Dad died, I was so lost and lonely. Danny just took advantage of that and then...."

"So why do you still let him in here?"

"To show that he didn't win. You know that whole thing about keeping your friends close and your enemies even closer? If he's here I can keep an eye on him. Besides Bo and 'Stavo would kick his ass if he tried anything."

"Your Dad died?" Buffy asked swerving the conversation back to a point she could relate to. Common ground for them.

"Not easy losing a parent is it? Especially when that's all you have. After Korea, Dad was a changed man. He hated guns and violence so much when he came home. I got involved with his politics and we both ended up going on anti-war protests and shit like that."

"Over Korea?"

"No, Vietnam, jeez Buffy try to keep up."

"Sorry."

"We were at this protest, it ended up being called 'The Battle In East Seattle," Joe said with a slight grimace.

"Never heard of it."

"It was about the time those students got shot so it got buried in the news, it was a peaceful protest but some assholes had infiltrated the group and started all this trouble so it would give the cops a reason to kick off....tear gas and nightsticks......I can still remember it all, the chaos, the fear, the pain," Joe said as she leant forward and pulled her hair back to show Buffy the long savage scar behind her ear.

"Anyway, during the riot, Dad died of a heart attack. They say it was some shrapnel lodged in his heart from Korea and...", she broke off temporarily as her eyes misted over. "Anyway I've been running this place since then. After he died, I ran his bar the way he always did, a haven of freedom, non-violence...acceptance."

"Acceptance?"

"I'm bi," Joe bluntly said through the sweet smoke flowing from her cherry lips.

"Oh."

"Does that bother you, Buffy?"

"No, my best friend is gay."

"Then kudos to her."

"Don't you have any other family?"

"I probably got half a dozen illegitimate siblings running round somewhere in the slums of Korea," Joe flashed a smirk infested with a slight hurt. "Anyway this is a place where anyone can come no matter what, the only thing I won't tolerate is intolerance. That's why I salute someone who still has that spirit.... like Joyce, still having that fire and bravery to fight for her causes before she gets all jaded and shit. Y'see I used to be a hardcore socialist, but now I'm just a mediocre liberal."

"She is kinda ...cool. And she should have an equal, a man.... like Hank," said Buffy as she took a long swig of wine that danced across her taste buds.

"Who's Hank?"

"He's...some guy, it's good solid dependable name right? I bet they'd make a great couple and they'd have amazing and pretty daughters and live a long and happy life, if he could keep it in his pants, that is. Maybe if she kept her strong independent spirit she wouldn't be so crushed by his cheating."

"What the fuck are you talking about?" the brunette asked suddenly wondering about the effects of passive marijuana intake.

"Erm, I mean hypothetically."

"Ok, no more for you, Buffy", Joe half joked as she reached for the glass that rested between the blonde's obviously irritated hands.

"No, no...I'm good," she said as the slayer took another mouthful of wine.

"What makes you such a good matchmaker anyway? Have you set up a lot of your friends?"

"Well no, actually."

"And your own love life?"

"Urgh, disaster doesn't even begin to cover it...but I'm still right about Hank and Joyce. I can see them making a great couple," she enthused a little too strongly.

"If you say so, but love...desire...you can't control that shit," Joe said as she hid her disappointment behind the rim of her glass.

'Wonder what she means by that?' Buffy thought as her mind slid into an alcohol warmed shell of confidence.

"I still think they'd be good together."

"If you say so, Buffy."

"Do...do..you think you could call me 'B'?

"Why?"

"A friend of mine used to call me that and...she...you remind me of her."

"She must be one hell of a girl then," Joe grinned.

"She is, well she can be...but sometimes."

"Not all roses and rainbows?"

"Sometimes she drives me mad when I think of all the shit she pulled back in....er, the day. But now I can see how much she's changed and I just want to...dammit, I just want us to start over. A clean slate, that's what I want. To start off on the right foot and stay that way."

"Sounds like you miss her."

"Yeah, I do," Buffy said but mainly to herself with her tongue now free due to the alcohol coursing through her. It had made her realize just how much wanted, no needed Faith to be a part of her life.

"Sometimes when it was just me and her patro...I mean partying, she would let her guard down and just be...her. No pretensions, no bullshit...just me and her...it was nice...really nice."

"Tell me about her," Joe encouraged as she refilled Buffy's glass again.

They talked long into the night with the slayer mainly using her brunette benefactor as a sounding board for all the thoughts and feelings that she needed to get out of her system. She omitted the violent aspect of her life, but to Buffy it just felt so good to be able to confide in someone like that. A neutral third party. With access to lots of alcohol.

Looking at the Faith-esque appearance of her friend she felt so at ease being to talk to her. Almost pretending it was actually Faith she was chatting to and made a mental note to herself that when she did get home that she would have the same talk with her slaying sister-in-arms. Or at least attempt to.

* * *

* * *

* *

As the early morning sun warmed her skin, Buffy found herself swathed in a beautiful dream about Faith. They were lying in a large four poster bed together somewhere in the Alps and tickling each other as they wrapped themselves tighter in the red silk sheets. She ran her fingers through the soft hair of her former enemy as the Bostonian's tongue snaked into her ear.

"Faith, stop it," she half moaned/half giggled in protest.

"Er, B."

"Mmmm,", she said as the smooth tongue lapped at her ring-less lobes.

"Buffy!"

The blonde's eyes shot open at the yell of her name. She looked up to see Joe desperately trying to control her laughter but it was to no avail as the slayer's eyes moved down to see her hands clutching at Archie's fur with a long trail of slobber connecting his mouth to Buffy's ear.

"Ewww, ewww, ewwwww!" she shrieked as her hands wiped frantically at her face as Joe's rich deep laughter rebounded off the walls.

"You ok there, Buffy? Or should I leave you two alone for a bit?"

"Not funny....Joe," she paused to make sure she used the real name when she desperately wanted to call her friend Faith. To call Faith her friend.

"Yeah...it was actually."

Buffy pushed Archie away who just wagged his tail enthusiastically as the blonde crawled from the cot in the back room surprised at the ease with which she slept ,but now the hangover was kicking in with a vengeful fury.

"Jesus Buffy, you look rough as a badger's asshole," said Joe as she sipped from her San Diego Chargers mug which was full of rich beany goodness.

"Thanks, you got any headache pills. I think my brain has melted and is in serious danger of running out of my ears."

"What's the magic word?"

"Tylenol," the brunette groaned flatly as she rubbed at her still tired eyes.

"Good enough."

After handing the blonde girl a few pills and a glass of water, Joe decided that the best way to shake off the lingering cobwebs from her ailing associate was physical labor. Though the hour was still early, in the world of the bar owner there was still never enough time in the day to get everything ready for the evenings onslaught of wino's and wastrels.

"C'mon B, you gotta help me move these boxes 'cos we got a delivery coming in first thing and we gotta get these shifted," Joe asserted despite the whine of her sleepy comrade.

"Can't I get some coffee first?" she pouted which only caused Joe to chuckle as she set her mug down on the ground.

"Boxes first, then coffee."

"Ok," Buffy forced out round a wide yawn before slipping on her jeans and top and with her feet firmly set on autopilot she trudged outside and winced at the morning sun.

"Grab these will you B?" said Joe as she lifted a large brown box that clinked with the bottles of wine shifting around uneasily inside them.

"Jeez, why do you have so much?"

"All in the name of ecology, B."

Joe's eyes widened as Buffy shrugged before effortlessly picking up several boxes of wine and started to carry them into the bar.

"Wow, how d'you do that? Were you dropped into a cauldron of magic potion as a baby or something?"

Buffy blushed a little at her mistake but she had grown so comfortable in the presence of the brunette that she forgot she wasn't Faith.

"I...er..I work out. I'm like Rambo with boobs," she joked.

"Who?"

"Oh yeah, that hasn't been made yet either. Never mind."

* * *

* * *

* * *

An hour later with all the boxes moved and emptied and the fresh delivery also put away, Buffy felt like a whole new woman as the blood thundered through her as her physical efforts that didn't so much as drain her slayer powers but still acted as a stimuli to be reckoned with. Of course, the paracetamol helped.

"I'm going into town. I got some errands I have to run. Wanna come with?" Joe offered as she picked up her keys and ushered Archie to come to her.

"Actually I thought I'd go and see Joyce," Buffy replied as she added a little of Joe's lipstick to her narrow lips and smiled at the not-too-shabby appearance that greeted her in the mirror.

"Cool, I have to go past their vineyard anyway. Hop in, Archie...up", she ordered as she held open the door for her four-legged friend.

"Jeez, what's with the stone age transport? Did you get it from the Slag Brothers?" Buffy mocked as she stepped into the camper van complete with the de riguer CND decal on the mud flaps.

"Very funny. This is top of the range y'know...with a brand new eight track with genuine mono sound," the curvaceous woman bragged as she started up the purring engine.

"Can't wait for mp3s," Buffy murmured.

"Are they like MC5, 'cos I haven't heard of them?" Joe quizzed.

"Oh you will...in time. Erm, can't I sit in the front?"

"Sorry B, but Archie called shotgun. You should've been quicker," she smirked as her fingers tousled the hair on her beloved pet.

As they pulled away, Joe flicked on her tape player and sang along to 'Jim Dandy' despite the incredulous look being thrown her way by the slayer.

"What? You don't like Black Oak Arkansas?"

"No, it's fine," she placated but in her head it was so weird so see the woman she knew as the dark slayer being so free and open like this. It was nice. She really felt like she could talk to this woman about anything as she radiated a quiet confidence.

Drawing up at dusty intersection, Buffy hopped out and stretched her cramping limbs relieved to be out of the van as Joe drove in much the same maniacal manner as her dimpled doppelganger. Maybe all of Faith's look-a-likes were crazy drivers.

"Ok, B, just go up that road. It's only about ten minutes walk to the monastery. I won't be back for a few hours. You going to be ok?" Joe yelled out the window trying to drown out the sounds of 'Fox On The Run' by Sweet that would no doubt be circling within the slayer's head for hours.

"Yeah I'll be fine, the walk back will do me good," Buffy grinned back as the camper van drove off with the brunette singing along at the top of her raspy voice.

The petite girl wandered along the dry path kicking at the odd stone and dandelion that she came across as she once more lost herself in her thoughts aided by the peace and quiet that accompanied the sun's softer rays.

'This really is beautiful out here. I can see why Mom was always going on about how lovely it was up here. I guess it reminded her of her happy she was in her youth. Come to think of it, she always wanted to drag us up here but Dad never let us. I wonder why?'

She quickly found herself standing in front of the grey stone building that bustled with activity. Disgruntled employers shook their heads as the slow moving mass of hung-over interns shuffled back and forth between the pressing room and the countless rows of grapes surrounding them. Seeing a portly man directing his platoon of tired teens, Buffy thought he would be the best candidate for assisting her.

"Hi, I'm looking for Joyce...er", she mentally kicked herself for not remembering her mother's maiden name. It did seem strange how she didn't revert to it after the divorce seeing as she was no longer a Mrs. "She's about eighteen, blonde hair....she's one of the interns."

The supervisor flicked through his clipboard, "No idea. I'll ask of them...Hank!" the bespectacled man yelled.

"Hank? As in Hank Summers!?" Buffy squeaked and span round to see him.

"Yeah he's over there," the man pointed with his well-chewed pencil.

"Where? There's only some hippie with...oh..my...God."

Her shock was instant and paralyzing as the slowly approaching teen was not the well dressed man she had idolized as a child, but a shabby-looking creature in ripped jeans and a sweat laden t-shirt. His straggly hair was matted and shampoo evasive while his thick beard was peppered with Cheetos crumbs.

"This girl was looking for Joyce. You seen her?"

"She said she was going painting. I think Bo gave her directions to the shack over at the Mason turning, is that right?" Hank asked as he scratched at his chin after putting down his large wicker basket half full of grapes.

"Oh yeah, it's about a mile thattaway," the supervisor pointed with his ever trusty pencil, but Buffy just stared at the man who stood little above a vagabond in the evolutionary scale of things.

"Hank? B-but you look like Cousin It," the blonde said still in shock.

"Heh, my Mom tells me that all the time," Hank chuckled back as he ran his dirt laden fingers across his facial topiary that hid the cleft in his chin that Buffy, as a child, had been most curious about it's origin.

"Grandma said that?"

"What? No, my Mom said that. Are you ok?" he stressed loudly.

"Yeah, it's just.... the sun. Not used to it," she lied.

Silence fell upon them as they struggled to find a suitable icebreaker, but seeing as her time here was undetermined, the slayer simply cut to the chase.

"You know she likes you...Joyce that is."

"Really?",he said back. It was his turn to be shocked now as he was sure that no-one was aware of the little crush he was been nurturing on Joyce.

"Yep, she told me. You should like totally go for her."

"I dunno. She's pretty cool, really sweet, good looking. And she's such a free spirit, we talked on the way up here, turns out we're heading to the same college in the Fall. I was kind of hoping we could hang out or something...When we danced last night she said she liked my laugh," he offered hoping that the one compliment she had paid him was enough to broach the delicate subject of a summer(s) romance.

"I do like her, y'know," Hank re-affirmed.

"Despite the fact that she smokes pot?" Buffy asked as she picked up a bunch of grapes from the basket and one by one threw them into her mouth.

"Pfft, who doesn't sweetheart?" Hank shrugged as he re-adjusted his stone washed Wranglers.

"What? You too?"

The slayer almost choked on a grape as she didn't think her brain could absorb anymore of these revelations. She needed a buffer to give her mind time to digest this. She needed someone to help her come to terms with everything she was learning about her parents. She needed Faith....or at least someone who was a dead ringer for her.

"Why not toke? It makes me all..."

"Impotent!? You have to cut it out," Buffy enthused.

"Hey chill out, Bunny."

"It's Buffy," she snorted through her gritted teeth as the specter of remembrance of her father's cavalier attitude to the passing of her mother came back to haunt her. But these were her issues and now was not the time to iron them out as they had not even got together at this point. And she still wanted to see her Mom.

"So the shack is...?" Buffy asked.

"That way," Hank pointed.

"Cool.... hey stop that," Buffy snapped as Hank's eye was trapped on the sight of a lean girl bending over in her tight jeans.

"What?"

"If you want to make it work with Joyce, you can't go looking at other women!"

"What makes you think I have a chance with her anyway?"

"Well that's the good thing about her. She always finds something good about someone no matter how...fuzzy they are. Just leave it up to me. I'll get her to meet you and....stop that!" she snipped as his gaze now switched to a stunning Latino woman stretching in the hot sun.

"Sorry. Er, there's this party tonight, out at the old well. You think maybe...?"

"Perfect. I'll arrange a date for you two. I'll lay the groundwork, you just have to turn up...after maybe a shower, or a haircut....But if you ever cheat on her or treat her without the respect she deserves then I won't have a problem making a date between your balls and a breezeblock, capice?", she snarled as she squeezed the grapes in her hand which popped and oozed down her tightened fist.

"I er, ok, sure."

Leaving the man who would grow up to spawn her with that distinctly uneasy visual, Buffy turned and went to search for the shack where her mother would be. She hoped for a less frosty reception than the one she had gotten the previous night.

* * *

* * *

* *

"Mo....er, Joyce?" Buffy called out as she rounded the ramshackle dwelling that faced out onto the lush vineyards that sprawled out as far as the eye could see.

"Yeah?" came the disembodied voice from inside.

"It's me Buffy, from last night.....OH MY GOD!"

As the slayer stood in front of the open side, her mouth hung open. Between the smell of wine and incense, stood a paint spattered and very naked Joyce. Brush in one hand and a glass of rose in the other as she cocked her head to one side whilst casting a critical eye over her cubist interpretation of the scene that rolled out to the horizon.

"What are you doing?" Buffy asked as she tried to avert her tainted eyes from the svelte figure of her nude mother.

"Painting," the younger woman said nonchalantly and sipped her drink.

"About last night I'm sorry if I came on a bit heavy-handed with the whole smoking and....dear God can you put some clothes on." the slayer rushed out before her brain imploded as she was now able to cross off the number one item on her internal 'Things You Should Never See' list.

"Fine...narc," Joyce shrugged, but Buffy's slayer hearing caught the last word not intended to be heard.

"Look, I'm sorry about last night. I was just so tired, it was a helluva trip up here and I get really irritable on long car rides," Joyce sighed as she slid her arms into an oversized shirt and only fastened two of the buttons.

"Don't I know it," Buffy whispered to herself.

"I just needed something to take the edge of it. I needed to kick back and chill for a while. I'm sure you need to do the same every now and then."

"Oh, er yeah."

Buffy looked around as did Joyce neither of them knowing what to say.

"I hear there's a party tonight, are you going?" Buffy attempted to kick-start to conversation once more without accusations or argument marring what precious time they had together.

"I was going there anyway. Danny said..."

"You can't see him!"

"You can't tell me what to do," Joyce shot back, not liking the condescending attitude being thrown her way after all she had fled to the country for the summer to escape the same words that were often issued forth by her own parents.

"Yes I damn well can. Stay away from him, he's bad news. You are not going to see Danny, young lady," Buffy said but reeled back when she realized what she was saying.

'Holy crap, is this Freaky Friday or something?'

"What do you know, I bet you never dated a bad seed," Joyce snapped back.

"I dated the baddest of seeds...twice."

"Whatever...narc," Joyce shrugged again which only served to irritate the slayer a little more. But she didn't want the last words with her mother to be ones of anger.

"You can do better than Danny, you deserve someone better than him."

"Like who?"

"What about Hank?"

"He's nice, but I think I pissed him off yesterday though. I kind of shouted at him on the car ride up here, besides I don't know him that well."

"That's the whole point of going to the party. He told me he was going and really wanted to see you."

"Really? Hmm, maybe I'll see him if he's there," said Joyce in a purposefully ambiguous manner.

"What's that icky smell?" Buffy asked as she suspiciously sniffed the midday air.

"Huh, that's coming from 'Dog Poo Girl.'"

"What? I'm not all...stinky. I'm all lemony fresh...i..is that what they're calling me?"

"Names stick...like shit," Joyce grinned.

"Can we focus here? Hank likes you, you like Hank. You'll both be at the party tonight and maybe you might...y'know."

"Fuck?"

"What?! No, I was going to say hit if off," Buffy reeled once more at her unexpected crudity.

"I'm not a kid. I know what I'm doing. I've been dating since I was thirteen."

"But you...I mean, my Mom didn't let me date until I was fifteen," the slayer pouted.

"Hmm, she sounds like a real square to me."

"But are you just going to give up your womanhood just like that?"

"My womanhood? It's not like I haven't had sex before. I haven't been a virgin since sophomore year in high school," Joyce casually threw out.

"WHAT??!! That's way too much information, I sooo did not need to know that."

"Oh come on girl, it's 1976. You gotta grab life while you can. I mean, I want to be an artist living in a tipi, living with Mother Nature free from the shackles of mainstream life. If I ever become one of those tied down soccer Mom's, then remind me to kill myself."

"Don't say that, don't you dare ever say that!" Buffy shouted as she grabbed Joyce by the well toned bicep pressing her fingers in a little too hard.

"Get off me,", she wrenched her arm free and rubbed its soon to be appearing bruises. "Damn girl, you really need to chill out."

Buffy backpedalled quickly as she feared losing any chance she had of talking, really talking with her mother.

"Sorry."

"You know you're pretty..."

"Thanks."

"Let me finish, I was going to say pretty uptight."

"I'm sooo not uptight, I like totally chilled...er, man."

"Nice try, narc," Joyce said as she stepped closer to the shorter woman.

"Stop calling me that!"

"You really should come to the party, have a smoke, and just be cool because I think you really need to chill out. Come on, Buffy, you need to learn to let go.....to express yourself....to experiment..." Joyce said she slowly ran her fingers tinged with burnt sienna along Buffy's arm.

'Huh? What does she....OH SWEET FUCKING JESUS!!! IS MOM HITTING ON ME??? I think I'm going to puke!'

"No, no, no...this is bad badness, mucho baddo. Off," the other Chosen girl chastised and pulled back from her mother in panic.

"Oh grow up, Britney," Joyce said with a roll of the eyes.

"It's Buffy," she growled.

"Pfft, what kind of moron would name their child Buffy?"

"What? How can...forget it ok...just.... come to the party tonight and give Hank a chance."

"Sure, whatever."

"And will you please stop getting stoned all the damn time?" Buffy almost yelled but tried to steady her voice.

"Sure, whatever," Joyce copied her own words which ratcheted up Buffy's annoyance level a notch.

'God, no wonder Mom always got so pissed at me saying that all the time.'

They stared at each other and before she even knew it Buffy launched herself into her mothers arms and hugged her for all she was worth. She fought to keep the tears at bay and just reveled in the moment before breaking away and rushing out of the shack.

"Later, Buff.y"

"See ya Joyce...I love you," she finished with a whisper.

As she walked away, she wiped the tears from her eyes. She had lost the fight to keep them contained but after being able to talk with her mother, however strained and pointless the conversation, and getting the chance to hug her she felt strange. Like she had at last made peace with finally being able to say goodbye to her. It was only a brief hug, but to Buffy it was the greatest and yet most heartbreaking embrace she would ever know. Happy memories are very seductive.

'Weird girl, but kinda sweet,' Joyce thought as she rummaged around by her paint box and pulled out a reefer burnt down to the roach which was made out of an old ZZ Top flyer. She breathed in the smoke as she removed her one article of clothing and once more looked over her painting.

* * *

* * *

* * *

'I know I shouldn't interact too much with Mom 'cos I know that the slightest thing can effect the future badly. But I miss her so much; I just want her to hold me in her arms and just be there. But still...I mean wow, she's such a free spirit all hippie and that, I wonder why she changed so much? What happened to her? I can remember Mom saying that this is where she fell for the love of her life. This must be when she and Dad got together as he said they got together on a student trip in Napa Valley. Awww, it's so romantic. Wait, is that why I'm here? To make sure they hook up? Is there something that could threaten them getting together? Danny, of course! Did he....or will he...oh shit, what if they did...or do? I have to stop her... Maybe that's why she didn't want me dating until I was fifteen and even then she watched over me like a hawk. I guess she just she wanted to keep me safe, to stop me from making the same mistakes she did? I can stop her from making a big mistake because if she hooks up with that total skeev I'll kick his scrawny ass clear across the state.'

Before she knew it, Buffy had crossed the narrow valley and was back at the bar. The hours had passed by slowly, and she had much to mull over, but came no closer to any conclusions as the sun was now starting to sink in the sky once more. She saw Joe's van was already there and so went inside to hopefully get some advice from a girl who seemed to have seen and done so much in this world despite the fact that she was only two or three years older than the slayer herself.

The blond girl plonked herself down on one of the low couches and just stroked Archie behind the ear as he lay lazily on the well-worn leather.

"You ok, B?" asked Joe as she walked back through the bar with a case of beer and set it on top of the bar.

"What is up with all the smoking pot and drinking and fu...er, fun," Buffy sighed not understanding how or why her mother was acting the way she did. She was still so reliant to the notion that her Mom had ever been anything else except her Mom.

"Hey, it's just a bunch of kids trying to enjoy themselves," Joe tried to cheer the girl.

"But it's dangerous out there."

"What the hell is going to hurt them out there?"

"Vam...er, vans," she feebly adjusted having forgotten that demons even existed but as her world had been submerged in such a lifestyle for so long it was second, almost first nature to her to think about the presence of the undead.

"Vans?"

"Yeah, they might get all wasted and stoned and get themselves run over."

"By vans," Joe deadpanned as she opened the shutters on the blinds with two fingers. "Yeah, it's a real rat race out there, Buffy. How many cars have you seen today? Two, maybe three? What's got you all worked up anyway? Is this about Joyce?"

"Kind of, the party tonight, she's going there...a-and I think she wants to...you know...with Danny."

"It's her life B, let her learn from her mistakes," Joe said as she lined up the beer along the top of the bar trying not to think about Joyce.

"It's just I think Joyce and Hank would make a great couple."

"Why?"

"I just do, I've got to get them together."

"What if someone else wants a chance?"

"What like Danny? Pfft. Joyce deserves someone better than some random nobody from out here in Shitsville."

"Yeah, she does," Joe said mournfully mainly to herself.

"I hear there's a party tonight."

"Yeah, at the old well."

"You know it?"

"Yeah, every Friday the kids go up there to party. They tune in, drop out and hook up. I sell them their kegs, but they only get two what with all the extracurriculars they got going on up there, they don't need more."

"Extracurriculars?"

"Yeah," Joe said as she made the smoking mime.

"What like a pot party or something?" Buffy said as panic began to pool. She sprang up from the couch making Archie stare at her in confusion at this sudden change of pace in the atmosphere of his home.

"That...and everything else you need really. I used to go up there, but I think I'm getting a bit old for keggers with kids, especially when I have my own bar."

"Does Danny go up there?"

"Uh-huh, he likes the fresh meat."

"Oh God, I've got to get up there before he does anything to Mom," she said.

'There she goes again, jeez, and I thought I had mother issues," Joe thought to herself.

"What if he slips something in her drink? What if he...I've got to get up there," Buffy said as she rushed out the door into the approaching twilight.

A minute later the slayer re-emerged in the bar looking a little flustered as well as sheepish.

"Er, where is the old well?" she asked with a blush.

"Go that way until you hear a lot of laughter and Sabbath....or sirens," Joe half joked as she pointed to the east.

"Thanks," and rushed out once more.

'Shit, what if Mom gets arrested and looses her place at college? She'll never hook up with Dad and I'll never be born. Or what if Danny gets to her first and knocks her up, then she'll have to drop out and never get together with Dad. This is so not of the good,' Buffy thought as she ran up the dusty road and cut across the field.

* * *

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* * *

* *

'Is the moon waxing...or is it waning, no wait it's weeping isn't it? Damn it, I should listen to Willow more often when she talks about lunar cycles, but then Faith pulls her pants down and does her own moon gag. What I wouldn't give to hear Willow going on about something boring again...or to see Faith's ass once more...GOD what am I thinking?'' the blonde chastised her mental meanderings as she hurried along under the blanket of stars that had rapidly assembled above her.

Hearing the faint ring of seventies rock, the slayer made her way stealthily through the trees until she came to a clearing and just watched the hedonistic scene unfold. 'Tuesdays Gone' by Lynyrd Skynyrd seeped through the quivering sweetened fogbank from the camaros and pick-ups parked haphazardly in between the trees as the gaggle of teens fired up their home made pipes and tried to drum up enough cash for a baggie of grass. As water bongs bubbled and narghiles flamed, the assembled throng relaxed and set off on a journey that would no doubt lead to lethargy and demand for pie.

"There ya go," came a voice from besides her that made Buffy jump.

Instinctively finding herself in a fighting position, she blushed hard when a swaying young man held out a cup of beer for her, which she obligingly took. She had no plans on drinking it, but it would allow her to mingle with the group without too many suspicions being raised.

"Er, thanks," she mumbled as the apparently altruistic figure wandered off into the shadows of the trees.

Buffy emerged from her leafy hideout and strolled amongst the giggling and regurgitating crowd, letting the cup of warm beer hang limply between her fingers as her eyes darted everywhere for any sign of her mother.

"Hey there, lick my finger," said a strangely exuberant long-haired teen to the slayer as he ran between partygoers.

"That's a new one, I thought it was pull my finger," she said naively.

"No, lick it," he sighed as he shifted weight between his legs.

In the sharp moonlight she could see a small square of paper clinging to the end of his hygienically questionable digit.

"Um, no thanks. I'm ok," she said as she held up her cup.

"Hey Ricky, lick my finger," the unthrown man said as he scrambled off after another partygoer.

The blonde girl simply shook her head as this kind of party was a whole new vision of hell for her. But 'twas one where her inconsistent temperament and quick reactions were negated by the lack of deadly foes. Unless she found Danny, with her mother that is, as then she would relish in being able to trade soup bones with him and feel no regret.

Leaning against the trunk of a red Beetle, she listened in on the conversations but instantly wished she hadn't.

"Nah listen dude, Papa Smurf controls the whole village. Everyone has to do what he says and keeps them all in line with all his magic books and shit. Yeah he don't know magic without looking it up, he's a total fraud. AND... he keeps all his books locked away, he doesn't want the other Smurfs to become educated and then overthrow him. The only one who's educated is Brainy Smurf and he's hated by the rest of the village and beaten up quite often. Even their language is basic where everything revolves around the word 'Smurf.' Don't you see, all the kids watching it will grow up not wanting to be educated and just be told what to do like a nation of docile idiots. It's all subliminal man, the government wants us all like that and...ooh, that's quite shiny," the rant was cut off by the glint of some foil flapping in the bushes.

'Can't wait to tell Willow that she's better at magic than Papa Smurf. And this is the future of our country?' Buffy thought as she once more rolled her eyes at the stream of cannibabble, 'A kid in a straw hat who's going to grow up and blog hysterical tracts about sperm and gravity.'

Truth be told, she was a little envious of this tribe. Their laughter so genuine, their futures so unplanned. She never had this kind of freedom.

"Hey there, sweet thing," said a particularly imbibed biker as he leant his arm on Buffy's shoulder which she immediately shrugged off as flirting was not her purpose here. Not intentionally anyway.

"Wanna make out?" he continued, not put off by her obvious disinterest.

"Uugghh," she croaked out.

"Hookah?"

"What?!" she yelled back.

He silently held up a joint and placed it between his thick lips.

"Oh...er, no thanks,"

"What's your name?" he slurred.

"Buffy," she sighed.

"I'm Tom," he slurred.

"Shit off," she razzed back using one of Faith's favorite expressions.

"Huh?" he sounded back perplexed.

"Just go away would you, I'm looking for someone."

"And I'm right here, sweet cheeks," he said as he grabbed her ass.

The next thing he knew he was being hurled headlong into a bush, courtesy of one slayer-powered throw.

"Jerk," she snorted as she wandered off looking earnestly for Joyce.

A scrawny looking afro-headed teen twanged his six-string as he broke into some Dylan song. Its soft notes reverberated through the air and lingered, no doubt slowed by the rings of scented smoke that circled them all.

Wandering over to a brown pick-up where the decadent youth of yesteryear lounged back on garden furniture ,Buffy's beer spilt all over herself as she was barged into from behind.

"Hey, what the hell are...." she cut herself off as she turned,"....are you ok?"

"There's a man at the end of the desert. He's floating in gravy and selling Jesus cakes," came the fearful voice of a ragged-looking Maria whose pupils were scarily enlarged.

"Ok, girl I think you need to come down," said her equally wide eyed friend who held her by the hand anchoring her to reality as over the eight track most appros pos lyrics accompanied her slithering motions.

"With chemical deportment she slid into view

Under a narcotic veil I could tell 'cos she moved

Like Evel Knievel if you think he

Had the pins in his limbs replaced by slinkies"

Shaking her head, Buffy was tiring of this fruitless search, but her internal alarm sounded as from the corner of her eye she saw a flash of blonde hair partially covered by Danny's hulking frame as he took the stumbling girl into the bushes.

"Shit," the slayer said as she dropped the remainder of her beer and darted into the undergrowth. Fighting through the branches and hidden stumps that jutted from the uneven earth she quickly caught up to them and grabbed the disheveled man by the shoulder and spun him around, punching him hard in his already bruised nose.

"Owww, shiit!" he yelled.

"What the fuck is your problem?" came the startled shriek of the blonde girl.

It wasn't Joyce.

"What the...where is she?"

"Who?"

"Joyce."

"She didn't want to put out, that bitch..." Danny was cut off by yet another punch, which sent him reeling to the floor. This strike was slightly less pulled.

"Don't you dare talk that way about her!"

"Goddammit, will you stop hitting me?!" he yelled through his profusely bleeding face.

"So where is she?" Buffy growled, cracking her knuckles once more.

"That guy.... the intern with the beard....he walked her home...shit," Danny said as he spat his blood into the long grass.

"Hank?"

"Yeah, I think that was his name."

"For your sake you better be telling the truth, and if you EVER treat any other girl this way...I'll be back," the slayer threatened as she left but not before turning to the other blonde girl. "By the way, Danny has a little rot in the basement, if you get my meaning."

"Ewww," the other girl shrieked and ran off leaving Danny along, bleeding and ruing the day he met Buffy.

'So Dad took Mom back home. Coolio, I can already hear the sweet music and candles being lit. Once they get together all will be of the goodness,' she thought as she left the party to burn itself out. Though she was tempted to stay and have a drink, maybe even make a new friend, she knew it wasn't worth it once she weighed up the consequences versus the rewards. Her Mom was ok, Danny was not. And that was all that mattered to Buffy.

** MEANWHILE **

"What about him? He likes you y'know."

"He's ok, but I..I...I wanted to be with you. I wanted to see you... to touch you," Joyce whispered a little breathless after she had walked two long miles just so she could be alone to enjoy this sweet embrace she found herself in.

"I knew it, when we danced, I..I felt something between us. I'm not the kind of person to jump into bed with just anyone, but you're so beautiful, so free. There's some intangible quality about you that's drawing me to you....and I don't think I want to stop it."

"Then don't...I...I..I...just.."

"It's ok Joyce, I understand...I really do. But I'm not going to do anything you don't want me to do."

"N..n..no, I want to....please will you just kiss me?" she replied, her will floundering in the torrent of emotions coursing through her body.

Their lips met in a fervent battle for dominance as they tore each other's clothes off as they succumbed to their lust. Joyce's eyes rolled back as the kisses made their way down her neck and across her breasts making her sensitive nipples stand up rigidly.

"I could so easily fall for you, Joe."

"Let's not talk that way, not yet at least. Let's just see if this goes any further."

"Do you want it to?"

"I...I think I do," Joe said surprising herself at how easy she felt in Joyce's company and how much she wanted more.

"I...I think I could too, baby, fall for you that is, now touch me...lower...oh yes, that's it...oh please, fuck me Joe!" she breathed out hoarsely.

Their groins were locked in an arrhythmic battle, a momentum forged by requited lust as the merest touch was the most exhilarating of strokes as they both supped upon the sweet tang of illicit romance as they made the kind of love that is only dreamed of.

* * *

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*

The next morning the sun streamed in through the half-closed drapes and smeared its warmth over the two young women. Joyce lay her head on Joe's bare breasts and cuddled up to her as the bar owner's arms held her lover protectively.

"Morning, baby," the brunette said softly.

"Morning," Joyce replied and leaned forward as they shared a small but passionate kiss. Whilst melting into the kiss Joyce's eyes opened to catch the sight of the clock that sat idly on the dresser.

"Oh my God, is that the time? I have to go, I promised I'd be there early today," Joyce panicked as she leapt from the bed and quickly threw her clothes on.

"Please don't tell anyone," she said almost regretfully as she watched her dark haired lover ease herself from the bed and wrap a short robe around her hickey ravaged skin.

"Are you ashamed, Joy?"

"No...it was the greatest night of my life, it's just...you know," Joyce shrugged.

"Don't worry, baby, I understand," Joe said as she walked over and rubbed her lovers back comfortingly.

"I..er, I better get going...but can I have one more kiss?"

"One for the road, eh?"

They pressed their lips together and felt a surge flow through them as they intensified the kiss as their tongues snaked into each others mouths before Joyce pulled away blushing slightly.

"Can I call you later?" Joe asked nervously.

"No, I'm kind of busy today."

"Oh, ok I just thought..." Joe dropped her gaze to the floor in disappointment. She had finally met someone she could see herself having a future with, but there was something that held her back.

"But if you're at the shack...maybe about midday."

"I think I can swing that," Joe said her face brightening

"I'd better go before your girl wakes up. What was her name again?"

"Buffy. I know it's kinda strange but..."

"No, at first I thought it was weird but now...I kind of like it," Joyce beamed as she gave Joe one last quick kiss before creeping down the stairs and past the slumbering slayer and set out for the vineyards.

Joe sighed as she watched the svelte figure of Joyce wander off into the morning sun from her window, and rather than torture herself further, she simply went downstairs for some much needed coffee. She grabbed her mug and strolled out to the back of the bar letting Archie out to relieve himself.

As the aroma of the sainted bean surrounded her, Joe sighed deeply and watched her loving hound frolic in the morning dew and leaned back on an empty beer keg. She rubbed her eyes and felt something new. Was it hope? Was it lust? Was it...love? She couldn't be sure anymore.

This was going to be a very long and very hot summer.

"Morning", came the chipper greeting of Buffy who hadn't even bothered to change her clothes from the previous night and so still held the smell of beer and illegal substances.

"Heya, B. Why are you so happy?"

"Well, I don't mean to toot my own horn or anything...but I'm pretty sure Joyce hooked up last night with the right person."

"Really?"

"Yep, I think it's all going to work out for her."

"Yeah, I hope it does," Joe said with a faraway expression on her face, "Say, Buffy, can you watch Archie for a minute? Make sure he doesn't go into the long grass 'cos the snakes won't be too happy at this time of day."

"Sure, no problemo...oh by the way, I've been meaning to ask you, what's Joe short for? Joanna or Josephine?" Buffy asked as it was the question that had kept her up half the night. She didn't know why, but it was just one those unresolved issues that nags at you until it traverses into the territory of frustration.

"Heh, neither actually. Don't laugh...but it's Jonquil."

"Jonquil?"

"Yeah, I know it's stupid."

"No, it's not that...but I know that name from somewhere."

"It's a flower. A narcissi, either white or yellow," the brunette shrugged and went back inside with the box of wine that weighed her down.

Buffy's mind circled for a while as her grey matter shifted into gear with her pondering.

'Jonquil? Wait, that was the name of the flowers that Mom always insisted on having around the house. Every week she would get a new bunch to put in vases in all the rooms. I remember when I asked her about them she just got a little teary eyed and said that she loved jonquil. Wait! I can remember Mom talking about Joe in the valley, but I just thought it was a euphemism for something icky...OH....MY....GOD!!! No, she couldn't have meant...no...I mean they did dance the other night...and they did look at each other kind of....HOLY SHIT!! How could I be so stupid....Joe and ...Mom? But last night...I thought Mom and Dad got together? What happened?'

"Joe!" the slayer yelled and ran around to the side of the bar to confront the brunette.

As she turned the corner, she was enveloped in a bright green light as the portal once more re-opened and drew the blonde girl in as she screamed and flailed about with her mind now running with a thousand unanswered questions.

* * *

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Chapter: 3: Save Me

Author: beaweah

Rated: PG-13

Everything was spinning and spinning. That green light inside the portal made Buffy close her eyes. She felt dizzy, her stomach wasn't very happy with those trips. And then, everything suddenly stopped. The light, the weird noise, everything around her froze for a second. As nothing happened, things came back to normal. Buffy opened her eyes and tried to adjust to daylight. She blinked a couple of times and began focusing on the new scenario.

A disgusting smell hit her. Buffy couldn't believe where she was.

"Oh, c'mon. Couldn't I land anywhere else? Of course not." She complained while removing some garbage from her clothes. "I had to land in a crappy trash can. This is great, just great!"

The blonde slayer jumped out and tried to regain some of her dignity. But her dignity went down again when a lady approached her:

"Oh, please, rummaging about in the garbage? Find a job! Here", handing her a couple of dollars. "Don't waste them! Buy some food, but don't waste it in drugs or alcohol, you hear me?"

"Ma'am, it's not what you..."

"Yeah, yeah, sure. Just buy some food."

"But -"

"And take a shower, for Christ sake!"

The woman turned and went away grumbling. The blonde was not only dirty now, but also upset.

"Peachy. Things keep getting worse. People used to think I'm a freak. I think I miss those wonderful days. Now they also think I'm a beggar. And a drunkard. And a junkie. And I don't know where I am or why I'm here!"

She stopped and looked around. Not too far she saw the tower of a very famous building.

"Oh, no, no way! New York! I've never been in New York before! For once, it could be fun!"

Buffy's mood changed. She thought this trip could be at least interesting. And the dimension seemed to be like hers. Nothing seemed to be out of place, everything seemed normal. The slayer began walking. She had no idea where she was heading to, but any place could be good.

After a couple of minutes, her stomach started rumbling, so Buffy decided to go to that nice cafeteria on the other side of the street. She could have breakfast and use the toilet to freshening up.

The alarm clock rang. Sunrays entered through the window making her long dark hair look a little lighter. She pulled her arm from under the blanket and smashed the clock. The alarm stopped. Tru hid her head under the pillow, but her cell phone started buzzing. She had nightshift the day before and it was a busy one. The brunette needed to rest some more. Her cell phone kept ringing, so she reluctantly took it and pressed the green button.

"You better tell me the world is ending or I'm gonna hate you forever," she said before yawning.

"Feeling grumpy this morning, honey?" The friendly voice of her best friend sounded in the other end.

"Morning, Linds. Sorry, bad shift yesterday night. And lately I'm not sleeping very well," Tru apologized.

"It's ok, sweetie. I was just worried. I've been waiting for you like an hour. I wanted to check if you were all right."

"Waiting for me? Where? When? Why?" Tru was confused.

"We were going to have breakfast today, remember? No, obviously, you don't remember," Lindsay laughed. She wasn't upset.

"Damn! I totally forgot it. Sorry, Linds, I'm so sorry. God, my life is a mess lately. What can I do to make you forgive this crappy friend I am?"

"Well, I haven't had breakfast yet. I'm still in the cafeteria. You could always pass by and we could have some quality time, you know? We haven't really talked much lately, and I miss my best friend," she pouted.

"Awww, babe, I miss you too. After the med test, everything will be the same again. I promise." Tru smiled. "Ok, gimme...20minutes and I'll be there!" she said while jumping off the bed.

"Make it in 15 or you'll pay the bill," the blonde said before hanging up.

Tru smiled and ran to the bathroom. She took a quick shower and dressed as fast as she could. After drying her hair with a towel and brushing her curls, she took a last look in the mirror before grabbing her purse and leaving.

She wasn't far, so she arrived at the cafeteria five minutes later. Tru opened the door and went inside. There, she looked for her friend, who was sitting in their favorite corner of the place. When Lindsay looked at her, she waved and smiled.

"Hey!"

"I did it in...17!"

"Sorry, you're still paying for breakfast today," the blonde bantered. Tru rolled her eyes.

"Ok, ok, I deserve it."

The waitress came to take the order.

"Good morning, ladies. Have you decided already?" she kindly asked. They had breakfast there many times, and that waitress always served them with a wide smile.

"I'm gonna stick with the usual, coffee and a french toast." Tru didn't even take a look at the menu.

"I admire your determination...Should I order pancakes? Or maybe toast? No, better the pancakes and...yeah, cappuccino."

Lindsay closed the menu. When the waitress turned, she stopped her.

"Oh, sorry, would you mind to bring me a raspberry muffin instead of pancakes?" She looked apologetically. The waitress smiled and took the new order, leaving the two friends alone.

"Tell me, how have you been?" Lindsay asked.

"Fine, I guess. Work has been tough lately and I spend most of my free time studying for the exam."

"Well, the test is next week, right? After it, you will have more time for me...and for rethinking some stuff, like you and Luc."

"Oh, damn, Luc...I don't wanna think about it. It's past history, Linds. I don't know, we've tried to avoid each other the last past weeks and, honestly, I don't miss him. I don't feel like dating him again."

"Well, if you're sure about it... I mean, you tried, but if you don't feel 'the sparks', what's the point? It's a shame, he's a decent guy, maybe the most decent guy you've dated. And he's hot!"

"Oook, it seems you are more interested in him than I am..." — They both laughed.

"Actually, I wouldn't mind if he made a move on me, you know? But just if you're really not interested."

"He's all yours. You're right, he's a good guy, we just don't match, I guess", Tru shrugged.

"Well, once you finish your test, we will go clubbing and we will find the right guy...or girl," the blonde wiggled her eyebrows.

"Are you going to remind me that story all my life? We were in our freshman year of college, I guess I was just trying new things!" Tru tried not to look at her friend's eyes, the table suddenly seemed very interesting to her.

"Honey, if you think I'm buying it, you're so wrong. Smoking a joint is trying new things. Dating a woman for nine month? Sorry but it's a whole different story." Lindsay looked sympathetic. "But it's ok, yunno? Nobody is judging you. Well, yes, maybe you're the one judging. It happened, and you're not the first or the last person on earth to realize that maybe, just maybe, you could swing both ways."

"Damn, Linds! I.don't.swing.both.ways. She meant nothing to me." She finally looked at her eyes. When Lindsay raised her left brow, Tru lowered her head again. "Ok, maybe she meant something."

Lindsay's brow remained raised. The brunette sighed.

"Ok, who am I trying to kid? She meant EVERYTHING!" Lindsay smiled. "But it finished and now it's past history."

The waitress arrived with their breakfast. While she served the coffee, Tru saw a scruffy blonde entering. The waiter gave the new costumer an unpleasant look but she didn't seem to care. After ordering enough food to feed an army, she went directly to the restroom. When the waitress left the table, they began eating.

"Linds, don't be so obvious, ok? There's a blonde chick in the restroom. I need you to see her." Tru whispered.

"Is she hot? Are you asking me for approval?"

The brunette rolled her eyes.

"Could you please shut up? Just do it."

"Ok, ok, but I don't get it. One minute ago you were freaking out because I mentioned your once-upon-a-time lesbian-affair, and now you're spying on blonde women? By the way, you have a soft spot for blondes, right? Oh, I am blonde...OH! Now I get what your looks mean, you cannot resist me!" — Lindsay couldn't help it.

"Sure, I check you out every Friday. Lindsay, please, could you stop making fun of me? `Cause you are kidding, aren't you?" When Lindsay burst into laughter, Tru relaxed a bit. "Of course you are. Look, the toilet door is opening!"

When the mysterious blonde stepped out the restroom, Lindsay couldn't believe it.

"Holy Mother of God. She's Effy!"

"Shh! Don't shout or she'll hear you! I don't think she's Effy, but she's pretty similar, right?"

"Are you sure? I mean, she looks kinda different. Last time I saw her was like four years ago. She looks older maybe, but...Oh, I don't know, you knew her better than me...in a biblical sense."

"You're not going to stop, are you? Funny thing, we were talking about Effy and suddenly she, or someone like her, appears out of nowhere."

Tru couldn't stop staring at the blonde woman, trying to figure out if she was Effy or just a pure coincidence.

"Maybe it's a sign. You should go and talk to her." Lindsay said and took a sip of her cappuccino.

"Are you crazy?"

Lindsay munched a bite of her muffin when suddenly made a disgusting face. "Actually, I'm not crazy. Right now I'm pissed. There's a hair in my muffin. I think I lost my appetite."

"Ewww. Definitely, you had to order the pancakes. Look, she's going!"

The blonde had finished her breakfast and went to the bar to pay the bill. After a minute, she went out.

"Damn, Tru, you lost your chance! Aren't you gonna follow her?"

Tru looked at her horrified. "Seriously, what's wrong with you today? Do you want me to stalk the poor girl? Not gonna happen. At least not today, 'cause I have to go to the morgue. Davis wants me there in..." She looked at her watch "...thirty minutes. We're going to review some old cases and he is going to help me with my test. So...I gotta go. We could have breakfast tomorrow again. This time I promise I won't forget."

"Tomorrow morning? Yeah, I don't have any plan. Same time, same place?"

Tru paid the bill and they went out.

"Sounds perfect" The brunette smiled.

"And maybe tomorrow that chick is here again!" Lindsay winked.

"Damn, you're really something. Take care, sweetie." She gave her friend a tender kiss on the cheek.

She turned and began walking. Her cell phone buzzed in her pocket.

"Hey, Har."

"Morning, Tru. How's my favourite beautiful sister today?"

"Don't tell me, you want to ask me for something..."

"How dare you to think..." Tru didn't let him finish

"Harrison."

"What? Can't I be nice to my sister?"

"Harrison, I'm on my way to the morgue. Tell me what's the what."

"Ok, busted. Do you mind if I meet you in the morgue?"

"Sure. I'll be there."

"Perfect. Later!"

He hung up. Tru was afraid he was in trouble. Again.

After a couple of minutes, she arrived at the morgue, where Davis was already working. He was so absorbed in some files he didn't even hear her arrive.

"Good morning, Davis."

Davis jumped in his chair.

"God, Tru, you scared me! I was doing some paperwork. I think I just spaced out a little."

"Anything important?"

"Not really, I'm just reviewing a report. Not that I'm not happy to see you but what are you doing here so early? Your shift doesn't start until this afternoon."

"Davis, you were going to help me studying, remember? If you're too busy, I can just study on my own here."

"Oh, yes, studying, yes, I didn't forget it. I'm not too busy, of course I can help you. Actually, you can start reviewing this case."

He searched a folder in his desk and handed it to her. Tru opened the file and began reading while sitting in a chair near her boss. She was so determined to pass the MCAT, it was her dream and she wasn't going to lose her first chance.

After half an hour, Davis had already finished his report and was trying to tidy his desk with no success. His messy hands left the desk even worse than before. Tru finally lifted her head from the file.

"Ok, I have some questions. Male, 27. He was drinking gin and coke, and he felt bad suddenly. They called the ambulance and when they arrived at the hospital, he was in a coma. He died two hours later. He had respiratory failure and collapsed. Something is weird in this case... Toxic results?"

"Positive on alcohol, cannabis and coke. Not too high levels to induce a coma. His relatives told the police he usually consumed those substances."

"What about opium?"

"Not a trace." He snickered.

"Damn, it was my first idea...The autopsy revealed he had pulmonary edema, it might be the cause of death."

"Right. Well, I didn't give you the whole file. Actually, it's a weird case and I wanted you to take a look. Check this post-mortem blood test." He handed her another file.

"Weird. I was right. Almost... It's not opium but methadone! Which by the way doesn't have any sense. Why did he have traces of methadone in blood? You said he didn't consume opium, didn't you?"

"Exactly."

Tru looked at him confused.

"I don't understand. If he had a methadone overdose, they could just use some naloxone."

"Very good. The point is he had just some tiny traces of methadone, not an overdose. Or it's what it seemed. Let me explain what happened. He was poisoned."

"Really? Was it a murder?"

"Yes. Methadone was in his gin. Combining coke and methadone reduces the presence of methadone in blood, and increases it in urine. That's why they didn't find a huge amount of methadone in the toxic analysis. A woman with similar symptoms was admitted in the hospital an hour after he did. But she wasn't a coke addict. They could save her. She told the police she had some sips of a friend's glass of gin."

"Incredible. I haven't heard a case like that before."

"It was a hard case. Do you want to review some more cases?"

"Sure!" Tru was excited. The more she could learn the better.

They were starting another case when Harrison arrived.

"Hey." He greeted. Tru could bet he was kinda tense.

"Hello, Harrison. How are you doing? It's been a while."

"I've been busy, Davis. Everything's fine. Look, dude, can I talk to Tru? It won't be long."

"Sure. I have to make some phone calls, I'll be right back." He excused and went out the room.

Tru stared at his brother trying to figure him out.

"What's going on, Har?"

"Nothing. Just...you know, I have to pay some debts today. I had the money, I swear! I won some grands yesterday in a poker round. For once I didn't waste it or whatever, but I cannot find my wallet. And I have to pay the guys today or they'll break my neck."

"Damn, Harrison. When is this shit going to stop?"

Tru was frustrated. She wanted him to deal with his own problems but she cared a lot for him and couldn't see how a random thug could kill him one of these days.

"How much do you need?"

"8000 bucks," he whispered.

"WHAT? I don't have that kind of money! Wait, did you win 8000 dollars last night playing poker?" Her eyes were wide open.

"Actually I won 10,000. I guess it was my lucky night."

"My god. Have you asked Meredith? I wish I had that money, but I don't know how to help you. I can give you 1000."

Harrison looked a little devastated. He didn't know how to get all the money he had to pay.

"It's ok. I'll try to fix it. Don't worry, ok?" Harrison turned to leave.

"Hey, wait! Please, call me later. And try to talk to Meredith, she could help you."

"Sure, like that bitch helped me before..." he muttered.

"I heard you! She cares, you know? In her weird way, but she cares."

"I'll call you. Later, sis."

"Take care!" she shouted, but he was already gone.

Tru and Davis reviewed some cases and she studied a little before her shift started. Then, she began working. The day was a quiet one, and she could study a little more. She also had time to worry about her brother and also think about the blonde girl she saw early that morning.

Buffy wandered around for a little while. After having breakfast, she decided to visit the city. Trying to figure out why she was there was pointless, and over the years she had learned fate always finds you if you don't find it. No matter what she did, the reason or the demon or whatever she had to do with in New York would step in her way eventually. So she tried to relax and spend the day like another normal tourist.

After visiting the most common places of the city, the slayer arrived at Times Squares. She was so excited. The blonde couldn't resist and got a ticket to watch "Mary Poppins."

"They say you haven't really been in New York if you don't experience a Broadway show. I'm not missing the chance! And 'Mary Poppins' is like the.best.movie.ever!"

She spent all the afternoon there. Then, she took a bus and went to Central Park, where she wandered until the sun began to set. For a little while, she felt carefree and basked in the great sensation of being just a normal girl for one day in one of the most amazing cities in the world.

She didn't know the meaning of this trip. She didn't even know how to finish all this dimensions journey deal. And she didn't know why she kept meeting Faith-look-alike women. Buffy was missing Giles, maybe he had the key, or some answers, or maybe he could help her figure things out. After trying and trying to find those answers, she gave in. She just let it be, and waited for things to come. One way or another, she'd find the way to get back to her reality. Everything has an explanation, and everything happens for a reason, or at least that's what life had taught her.

It was already dark when she decided to find a place to spend the night. Buffy began to walk, but she heard a scream not far away. She started to feel some tingles and the slayer knew some night creatures were around. Someone was in danger and she couldn't deny her own nature. The slayer in her took control and she went to find where the danger was.

She ran but it was too late. When Buffy arrived, there was a limp body of a girl in her early twenties on the ground. If she wasn't dead, she was barely alive. Two vampires were around. One of them took the body and started carrying it. Buffy grabbed her stake. Luckily when the rock-o-demon had tossed her through the first portal, she'd managed to hold onto her wooden weapon.

"Hey, buddy! Keeping your snack for later?"

Both vampires turned to see who was interrupting them. Once they saw the apparently harmless girl, the one who was carrying the prey let the body fall on the ground again and licked his fangs.

"It has to be my lucky night. A girl for the boss and a delicious blonde for me."

"But the boss will want her, too". The other vampire was more scared.

"He doesn't need to know, right?"

"Oh, don't tell me you're the bad guy. Feeling rogue today? You know, if you really want to be a badass, why don't you start firing your stylist? Those clothes are so girly, don't you think? What's with vampires and velvet?"

The vampire showed his game face and charged at the blonde. She ducked and kicked him in the ribs and then punched him in the nose. He was bleeding in a matter of seconds.

"Who the hell are you? Wonder Woman?" The other vampire run away instead of helping his mate, who was shocked to be beaten by a girl.

"Not even close," Buffy said while kicking him again. He fell and rolled on the ground. She approached him and held his throat. "I'm a slayer. And you're dust."

She was going to stake him when she heard a voice.

"Slayer! Why don't you leave him and fight against the real deal here?"

She dusted the vampire and without turning, she just sighed.

"Spike..."

The blonde vampire got smug.

"What are you doing here, pet? Aren't you far from your lovely Cleveland?"

"And you? Weren't you dead?"

Spike smirked. "In your dreams, maybe. Last time you ran away. Tonight you're not going to have the same good luck." He pointed around. Buffy was surrounded by more than twenty vampires.

They circled each other, ready to fight.

"You sure? I've never run away from you. Last time I saw you, actually, you were saving the day and sealing the Hellmouth in Sunnydale..." She then realized this wasn't the same Spike from her dimension.

"Me?" he snorted. "Of course, saving the day and confessing my love for you. Where the bloody hell is Sunnydale?"

"Actually...Forget it, you wouldn't believe it. Well, as I couldn't kill you when I had my chance, I wanna do it at least in this dimension."

Spike was a little confused. Buffy charged at him sending some punches. One of them connected with his jaw. The bleach vampire laughed.

"Is it the best you can give me? C'mon, pet, I'm bored." He kicked her in the stomach that made Buffy bend over, and he connected his knee with her face. She fell. Some vampires took the chance and they caught her. She struggled but there were many vampires. Spike came closer. One of the vampires grabbed her by the hair and offered her neck. The bleach vampire licked her pulse point and then looked directly at her eyes. She spat in his face.

"Honey, I told you. You are not surviving. Not tonight."

He changed into his game face and brutally bit her neck.

Tru's shift was almost finished. She really wanted to go home, take a bath and study a little more before going to bed. Her cell phone rang. She saw her brother's number in the screen.

"Harrison! Are you ok? I've been waiting for your call! Have you found your wallet? Or at least did you get the money?"

"I'm fine, Tru. A little sore, but fine, I guess." He sounded in pain despite his efforts of hiding it.

"Sore? What happened?" She was truly concerned.

"Well, the guys came home. They wanted the money and as I couldn't pay, so they kicked my ass. But hey, I found the wallet in the process! I was on the floor while they were kicking me and I saw it under the sofa. So I could pay them and the kicks stopped."

"Oh my god. Are you ok? Where are you?"

"I'm at home."

"Why aren't you at hospital? Do you need me to go with you?"

"Tru, don't worry. Some bruises here and there, a cut in the lip...nothing serious. Trust me, I don't need a doctor. I just need a couple of beers and some sleep. Oh, and a new tv 'cause they broke my brand new LCD screen," he grunted.

"Harrison, I'm finishing here in less than an hour. I'll pass by your house and check on you, ok?"

She was still talking to her brother when the office phone rang.

"I gotta go now, Har. Later."

She hung up and answered the other phone.

"Hey, Tru! It's Robert. I'm afraid you have some work ahead. I'm going there with a body. "

"I'll prepare everything. Thanks for calling. Bye."

She sighed. The last thing she wanted was a new body when she was almost out. It was going to make her finish late.

In less than ten minutes, Robert was in the morgue. After greeting Tru, he started reporting.

"I haven't found anything in the crime scene. Well, just this."

He handed the brunette a bag with a pointy stick.

"What's that? Is it the homicidal weapon?"

"I don't think so. We found the body in Central Park. This is weird. Just take a look, but let me warn you: she's in a really bad condition. It's creepy. She has beating marks everywhere. If you add the stake to the mix... Are you a fan of Dracula stories?"

"You gotta be kidding."

"I wish I were." His beeper buzzed. "Oh man, another call. I'll be right back. Sorry, Tru, it seems you're going to work 'till late." She shrugged. Robert left and Tru started her job with the corpse.

"Ok, let's see what we have here." She unzipped the black bag and her face turned white.

"Effy!! Oh, no, it can't be her!" She removed the bag entirely and looked for any id or info about her. She found a theatre ticket in her pocket and some cash, but there wasn't anything else. Tru examined the body, seeing all the bites and the bruises.

"What happened to you? Why did I see you this morning after four years, and at the end of the day you're here and dead? I didn't have the chance to talk to you. Damn, I let you go away without fighting because I was scared. But I didn't stop thinking about you, not a single day. And you won't know it."

Tru cried. She cried and cried, unable to do anything else.

"Please, talk to me. Ask me for help and I will save you. Let me save you, let me have the guts to fight for you, let me ask you for another chance."

But the body never asked for help. Tru was devastated. She didn't want to go away from her, just in case she asked. And then, Robert came back.

"I'm home, sweetie. When things cannot be weirder... I bring you another corpse. Another girl. And guess what? She has the same marks, the same bites. At least she's in better shape than the other; she doesn't have bruises or cuts in her face or whatever... Tru, are you ok?" He saw her wiping her tears.

"Yeah, I'm fine. So, same m.o.? So it could be another victim from the same murderer, or same cause of death... Ill try to figure out as much as I could."

"She was also in Central Park, but not in the same area."

Tru was thinking fast.

"So we do assume there were two attacks, right? These girls weren't together. And well, this one wears sport clothes, I guess she was running. See, she also was listening to music, she has an iPod in her pocket. She was running. The other one wasn't. Do we have any clue about who she is?"

Robert shook his head.

"I didn't find anything, not even a stake this time. There was nothing."

Tru kept searching in her pockets. She found finally an id.

"Good, Kathleen Morris. 22. At least we have something to start with."

"I have to go, Tru. I hope you can finish early. See ya."

"Bye, Bob. Take care." She turned to get another personal effects bag for the iPod.

She was alone. After closing the bag and leaving the evidence in the tray, she turned and jumped when she saw Kathleen sit up on the table, looking at her desperately and pointing at the other body.

"Save her!!"

At the same time, the other body moved her head.

"Save me, and I will save her."

Everything began spinning.

Tru woke up. All the images, the memories were passing in a rush through her mind. The theatre ticket. A blonde guy dressed in black with a long leather coat. A girl running. Effy fighting for her life surrounded by a group of monsters. Effy's body mutilated. She started crying, but she realized she was going to save the day no matter what.

Her cell phone was buzzing. She grabbed it and jumped off the bed. As she went to the bathroom and stripped to step in the shower, she opened her cell phone.

"Hey, Linds. I'm so sorry, I had a terrible night. I'll be in the cafeteria in 15 minutes."

"Ok, sweetie. You're paying today, I've been waiting for almost an hour."

"Yeah, I know, I'm so sorry. I'll be there in no time, ok?"

"Ok, later."

Tru took a shower, dressed in a hurry and went directly to the cafeteria, where she knew she could find Effy and start fixing everything from there.

Buffy opened her eyes when everything seemed to stop. She blinked trying to adjust to daylight. Then a disgusting smell hit her.

"Oh, c'mon, couldn't I land anywhere else? Of course not." She complained while removing some garbage from her clothes. "I had to land in a crappy trash can. This is great, just great!"

Tru arrived at the cafeteria. She entered quickly and went where she already knew her friend was waiting for her. When Lindsay saw her, she smiled.

"Hey!"

"Sorry, Linds. I didn't mean to make you wait for that long."

"It's ok. You're still paying for breakfast today," the blonde bantered.

The waitress came closer.

"Good morning, ladies. Have you decided already?"

"Coffee and a french toast for me." Tru didn't look at the menu this time either.

"I admire your determination...Should I order pancakes? Or maybe toast? No, better the pancakes and...yeah, cappuccino."

Lindsay closed the menu. When the waitress turned, she was going to stop her but Tru raised her hand.

"No, Lindsay, you're not ordering muffins."

"Why not? And why do you know?" The blonde was confused.

"You are so predictable. Just trust me, ok? Besides, pancakes here are really good." She tried to avoid any more questions.

"You're right. So tell me, how have you been?"

"Fine. Working, studying...the usual."

"Well, the test is next week, right? After it, you will have more time for me...and for rethinking some stuff, like you and Luc."

"Linds, I've been thinking a lot about it. I'm over Luc. Things don't work, and I don't feel like trying again."

"Well, if you're sure about it... I mean, you tried, but if you don't feel 'the sparks', what's the point? It's a shame, he's a decent guy, maybe the most decent guy you've dated. And he's hot!"

"Oook, it seems you are more interested in him than I am...All yours. He's a good guy." They both laughed.

"Actually, I wouldn't mind if he made a move on me, you know? Well, once you finish your test, we will go clubbing and we will find the right guy...or girl," the blonde wiggled her eyebrows.

"Actually, I've been thinking about Effy lately. I miss her, Linds. I think I'm going to call her." Lindsay was shocked.

"Really? What changed? I mean, every time we talk about it, you seem to deny she meant something for you. Like you're ashamed of what you felt for her."

"I think I'm ashamed of letting her go." Tru started checking on the door nervously.

"Aw, sweetie. Call her, maybe it's not too late."

"It's four years too late. But I have to do it. I need to talk to her." She checked on the door again.

"Tru, are you ok? Are you waiting for someone?" Lindsay turned to look at the door.

"No, I'm not. I'm just kinda restless. I'm not sleeping very well these days."

The waitress arrived at the table with their breakfast in a tray. She was serving their coffee when Tru saw the blonde she was really waiting for enter the place. She tried to repress her feelings. She wanted to run to her and hug her, to tell her so many things, but she didn't want her friend to know her secret. So she pretended she didn't see her and tried to distract Lindsay.

"I'm starving. I really had to order some pancakes too. Yours look great." She acted nonchalant.

They had breakfast, but Tru couldn't stop being aware of the blonde's position all the time. Someone called the waitress, complaining because their muffin had a hair inside.

"Ewww...Thank God I finally ordered pancakes. Well, thanks to you, actually."

"I told you so. I had a bad feeling about muffins today..."

Lindsay was a little suspicious but, as always, she didn't ask. The blonde had the feeling her friend was keeping something from her for a long time now, but she respected her and decided to wait for her to share whatever she was hiding.

When Tru saw the blonde was going to the bar, she drank the rest of her coffee, used the napkin to wipe her lips and stood.

"I gotta go! I'm sorry, Linds, but I forgot something. I need to go to the morgue. Please, finish your breakfast, it's on me."

"But Tru..." She was used to these runaways from her friend, but she couldn't understand what was happening. She was worried that maybe her friend was in trouble.

"Sorry, Linds. Let me think...Could we have breakfast tomorrow? Same time? Here? Say yes, please!" She couldn't wait for much longer or the blonde was going to disappear.

"Ok, whatever. Tomorrow then," she shrugged.

Tru approached her and kissed her in the cheek.

"You're awesome!"

After paying the bill she ran outside. The blonde was not far from her, so she kept running. When she was near, Tru called her.

"Effy!! Wait, Effy!!"

The blonde turned to find a brunette hugging her. With no time to see who she was, Tru kissed her passionately. Buffy was unable to do or say anything and she found herself responding to that kiss.

Once her brain came to terms with what she was doing, Buffy stopped kissing those soft lips and pushed lightly away from the body who was pretty close to her. When she saw the face of the girl she was kissing, the slayer just laughed.

"Ok, who are you here? What's your name? And why were you kissing me? Because, let me guess, you're not Faith."

"Faith? Who's Faith?"

"I knew it...Always the same." She looked at the sky like she was talking to someone else. "Damn, Faith, you're driving me crazy in every dimension." Then she stared at the stranger in front of her. "Ok, what's your story?"

"Oh, Effy, I know I was horrible, you didn't deserve it, but please, stop pretending you don't remember me." Tru was almost crying.

"Who's Effy? Buffy, my name is Buffy." Tru looked confused.

"Are you serious? Aren't you pretending?" She narrowed her eyes, trying to figure out if she was lying.

"Yeah, I'm Buffy Summers. And you are..." Buffy tried to be patient.

"Tru Davies. Seriously, aren't you Effy?" Buffy sighed. "Ok, ok. I believe you. Anyway, I need to talk to you. You're not going to believe me. Where should I start?"

"Start from the beginning. And trust me, I bet I've seen things you wouldn't believe, not even in your worst nightmares. Go ahead."

"You're in danger."

Buffy laughed.

"Oh, really? I guess my little holiday in New York is already busted. When am I not in danger? Tell me, what's the deal?"

Tru frowned. It was the first time she had such a good reaction.

"I don't really know, maybe you can help me figure things out?"

Tru's cell phone started buzzing.

"Oh, damn, Harrison! Please, I have to take this call, it won't be long. Then we could go somewhere quieter and I will explain everything, ok?"

Buffy shrugged. "I don't really have anything else to do. Take your time."

The brunette smiled.

"Hey, Har."

"Morning, Tru. How's my favourite beautiful sister today?"

"Under the couch." She needed this conversation to end fast.

"What?"

"Your wallet is under the couch."

"How did you know...Ok, you're in one of those days, aren't you?"

"Yeah, one of those days. I gotta go, Harrison. I'll call you once this crazy day finishes, ok?"

"Don't worry. Thanks for the info. Oh, and call me if you need help."

"Thank you. Bye."

She hung up and made a gesture to Buffy with her head, showing her the way. They started walking.

"Well, let me explain everything. I work in a morgue. And I have an ability...People who aren't meant to die ask for my help there and the day rewinds."

Buffy didn't seem very surprised. She didn't even look at her like Tru was crazy.

"Ok, go on."

"You died yesterday. Well, not exactly. You're supposed to die today. I'm reliving this day. You asked for my help. And there's another girl who's going to die if we don't help her. I just know some details."

"Me? Dying? Again?"

Tru looked at her puzzled. "What? I have the feeling you have some crazy story here..."

"You have no idea. And I'm not sure if you're going to believe it."

"Try me. You know, after discovering this ability, I think I can believe in anything. They found a stake near your body, and you had bites everywhere. Do I have to believe in vampires now? I will."

"Right, maybe you are going to believe me then. Yes, vampires do exist. I'm a vampire slayer. I was the Chosen One, but now there are a lot of girls like me over the world. Not here, I guess, but in my world."

"Whoa, wait. Your world?"

"Heh, I told you. I'm not from this dimension. I was in Cleveland fighting against a demon with someone who is exactly like you."

"That Faith chick you mentioned? Wait, did you say Cleveland? Oh God, Effy is supposed to be in Cleveland. This is weird, you know? Effy is exactly like you. By the way, sorry for kissing you and all, I didn't apologize."

"Never mind. Funny thing...Buffy and Effy, very similar. And Tru, like true, and Faith, very biblical. Well, I've been travelling through dimensions. I don't know why and I don't know how to go back home. Anyway, you have to tell me everything you know. I'm not very good at researching and all, but the more you can tell me the better I can prepare for the fight."

"Oh, no, you're not fighting tonight. All we have to do is find the other girl and stay away from Central Park tonight."

Buffy shook her head.

"Tru, we cannot do that. I can't. If we stay away from there, we could survive, yeah, but someone else could die. It's my calling. It's my duty. And I cannot go away. Don't you understand?"

"Yes, I do. I have the same feeling every time someone asks for help. But I don't want you to die."

She looked at the ground. Buffy touched the brunette's jaw, making her face lift and look at her in the eye.

"Hey, Tru, I've died twice. And today? Not gonna happen. But i'm gonna need your help. Just tell me everything you know."

The blonde smiled and caressed Tru's cheek. The brunette smiled too showing her dimples.

"Ok, let me think... You were surrounded by a lot of beasts. They were like human, but they weren't. I don't know how to explain."

"Like human with a very disgusting face, lizard eyes, sharp fangs?"

"Yeah, something like that."

"Vampires. A lot of them then, right? We're going to need some weapons. Go on, please."

"There was a blonde guy. Well, actually bleach blonde. I don't know if he was a vampire. But he seemed happy to see you dead."

Buffy rolled her eyes. "A bleach blonde guy? Don't tell me he was like an old punk legend. Long leather coat maybe? Dressed in black?"

"Yes! Exactly! How do you know? Do you know him?"

"In more than one way. Let's say we've met a long time ago and we have been enemies and friends over the years. At one time, we even had some kind of understanding...But in my dimension, he died. He gave his life to save the world. I think he's the same vampire I met without the good parts. Anything else?"

Tru tried to remember all the details. "Regarding the fight, I don't know anything else. I know the place where you died. And I found a theatre ticket in your pocket."

Buffy got excited. "Oh, really? I should go to Broadway. Can we go? Can we?"

Tru watched Buffy's face and thought she was so cute. "Buffy! Focus! We're going to beat the bad guys, right? I have an idea. If we make it, I will go with you and I will pay for the tickets. Deal?"

Buffy shook the brunette's hand. "Deal! Yay! Ok, ok, focus. Spike and fair play don't usually match up. You have to show me the place."

"First we should find the other girl. Her name is...Morris, Kathleen Morris. We could go to the morgue and search in the database. Besides, I had an appointment with my boss. He will understand. He usually helps me, he knows about my 'gift', as he calls it. You said we need weapons, what kind of weapons?"

"Uhm, bows and arrows, a sword could be useful too. I have just one stake..."

"I know who could get us some weapons. Hold on."

Tru took out her cell phone and dialled.

"Hey, Har, it's Tru. I'm gonna need your help."

"Sure. What do I have to do?"

"Could you please get some weapons? I need some bows and some arrows. And swords. And if you could also get some stakes too, it would be great."

"Whoa! Weapons? What for?"

"Are you going to believe me?" She wasn't very sure.

"Of course! Tell me, what's going on?"

"We are going to beat some vampires' asses!"

"Have you said vampires? You're insane," he retorted.

"I'm not insane. See? You never believe me when I tell you weird stuff. Maybe this is weirder than other times, but still. So can you get the weapons or not?"

"Gimme two hours and I'll meet you in the morgue. I'll see what can I get. Oh, and count me in the fight! Later, sis!"

She hung up.

"Ok, my brother is going to provide us with weapons. Do you need a little army to fight with you? Because he's willing to fight. And he's stubborn, he's not taking a no for an answer."

"I don't like to put civilians in danger. But honestly, I could use some help. We'll see."

Tru was determined. "Well, I'm also going to fight. You need help, and we're beating those vampires. Count me in too."

"Oh, no, no way!" Buffy looked serious.

"Yes way. I'm as stubborn as my brother. We're fighting with you... Let's go to the morgue and do some research."

They started walking. Buffy was worried, trying to come with a plan to beat Spike. Tru began speaking. "This Faith from your dimension...is she your girlfriend?"

Buffy's jaw dropped. "Girlfriend? What? No. No. We're not even friends, honestly. We have a lot of history behind us. She's also a slayer. Long story short: we were friends, she went evil. We fought, she lost. She changed and helped me. And then we fought again. You know, it's weird, being with you here and not wanting to smash your face. I wish everything could be simple with her, but it's not."

"I see. You know, there's just a thin line separating hate and love. Maybe you two are walking that line. And maybe you just have to step in the 'love side' to make things easier."

The blonde smiled wistfully. "I have a feeling a walk on the `love side', would complicate things even more. But what about Effy? Is she your girl?"

Tru looked sad. "No, she's not. We were together a long time ago. I don't know what happened, but she said she had to go to Cleveland. I was scared, and I made her choose. She told me she couldn't go away from some duties she had, but she never told me what was going on. I just know I left her, and I let her go. Now I realize I shouldn't have made her choose. When I saw your body in the morgue yesterday, I realized I had made a big mistake. I should have gone with her."

Buffy looked at her sympathetically.

"Why don't you call her? Tell her how you feel, maybe she understands."

"After four years? I lost that train."

"You won't know if you don't try. Just saying."

They arrived at the morgue. Davis was in his office doing some paperwork. When they entered, Tru greeted him. "Hey, Davis. Look, this is my friend, Buffy."

"Hi, Tru. Nice to meet you, Buffy. What are you doing here? Your shift doesn't start until this afternoon."

"Yeah, I know. You forgot we were going to study together, didn't you?"

"Oh, no, of course not. Actually I have a case here I'd like you to see..."

"Really? Let me guess... A murder. He was poisoned. It seems he had a heroine overdose, but it's not, it was methadone. And as he was coke addict, methadone wasn't found in his blood."

Davis was shocked. After some seconds, he understood. "Oh, ok, you're having one of those days." He tried not to be so obvious in front of Buffy.

"Don't worry, Davis. She knows. Actually, she's one of the victims who asked for help. We need to find info about the other one. I'm going to use the computer to do some research, ok?"

"Yes, of course. Can I help?"

"Unless you know how to kill vampires, I'm afraid you can't."

"What??? Right, vampires. Are you serious?"

"Sadly, I am. Harrison is going to come soon. Let's find something about the other victim before he does."

They went to the computer. Tru typed in the name of the girl she was looking for and after some minutes, she found her.

"I got it! I have her address and her phone number. Now we just have to find an excuse to have her far from Central Park around sunset."

"Do you know where she works or what she does?"

Buffy was thinking. Planning excuses was one of her best skills.

"I have no idea. We will visit her. Let's go."

She went to Davis' office. "Hey, we're going. If Harrison shows up, make him wait for us here, please. We will come back soon. We are not going very far."

"I will. Are you going to tell me what's going on anytime soon? I'm pretty shocked about that vampires deal."

Buffy decided to tell him the story. "I am a vampire slayer. I was killed by some of them. I asked for help. And now we're going to kill them. Simple."

"Of course...My god, this is the weirdest story I've heard in my life."

They left Davis thinking about it. Both girls took a bus and twenty minutes later they were at Kathleen's house.

"Here we are. We don't have to explain everything, just make her go somewhere else."

They walked to the front door. There was a magazine on the floor. Tru picked it up. They rang the bell and, after waiting for a little while, the door opened.

"Hello. Kathleen Morris, right?"

"Yes. And you are?"

"Tru Davis. And she's Buffy..."

"Buffy Summers."

They both suddenly didn't know what to say.

"So how can I help you?" Kathleen tried to be gentle, but she seemed to be impatient.

"Oh, well, yeah. It's just...errr...we'd like to...err...talk to you about..."

"Please, I don't mean to be rude, but I have to go. I have to visit a client in the other part of the city and I'm already late. If you're selling anything, I'm not interested, sorry."

"Oh, no! We're not selling anything. The thing is..."

Kathleen was losing her patience. "Damn, I cannot lose another client. Do you have an idea how difficult is to find a good client these days? Apparently nobody wants a good manicure."

"Manicure. What kind of job do you have?"

"I'm a hairstylist and aesthetician. As I don't own a salon, I go to my costumer's house to do my job. It's not too bad. But I need to go. And I need to go now."

Buffy smiled and took the magazine Tru had picked up.

"We're sorry, Kathleen. We just found this magazine in our mailbox. The postman made a mistake, I guess. That's all."

Kathleen relaxed. Tru looked at Buffy confused, but the blonde kept smiling.

"Oh, thanks! Again, sorry to be rude. I have to go. Thanks!"

"By the way, do you have a card? I could always call you if I need a new hair style."

"Sure!" She searched in her pockets. "Here you are. Thanks."

"Have a nice day. Bye."

They went away. A minute later, they saw Kathleen leave the house. Tru was disappointed.

"Just great, B. We lost the chance to do something."

"We didn't, my friend. We needed an excuse and...Wait, did you just call me `B'?"

Tru shrugged. "I think so. Is that bad? Did it bother you? I don't know, it just came naturally..."

"Well, there's someone, just one person, who use that nickname. Guess who."

"Heh, Faith. Am I right?"

"You're right. And if you use that 'five by five' expression, I'll seriously freak out."

"Five by five? What's that?"

"Never mind."

They went back the morgue, where Davis and Harrison were waiting for them.

"Hey, guys! We're back. Harrison, have you got what I asked you for?"

"Hello, Tru. I got all I could. I hope it's enough."

He took a big sport bag from behind the desk and opened it. Buffy smiled.

"Wow, there are three bows. And two swords! And a lot of arrows. And an axe! I'm Buffy, by the way."

When Harrison looked at Buffy, he couldn't believe it.

"Tru! Doesn't she look like..."

"Yes, she does. It's a long story. But no, she's not Effy." She looked at Buffy. "We still have to make Kathleen go other way..."

"Oh, true, I had an idea. She was complaining about the lack of customers. We just have to make an appointment with her far away from Central Park. You could call her and distract her while I fight."

"I told you, I'm gonna fight with you. But it's a great idea. And I know who could help us."

She took out her cell phone.

"Hey, Linds"

"Hello, Tru. Don't tell me you're cancelling our breakfast tomorrow"

"No, of course not! I'm calling because I need a favor."

"Oh, ok. Go ahead"

"I need you to cut your hair. Just a little."

"What kind of favor is that?"

"Or some manicure. Pedicure maybe?"

"What's all this about?"

Tru sighed. "I cannot explain right now. I just need you to call an aesthetician and keep her busy. I will pay for it. And I promise I will tell you everything tomorrow during breakfast. I have something to tell you. I wanted to tell you for so long, but I didn't find the way. Please, do it for me and I will explain everything."

"It's ok, sweetie. Just give me the number and tell me when do you want me to meet this aesthetician. And we will talk about it tomorrow."

"You're awesome! Just meet her before dusk. I will call you when you can let her go."

Buffy handed her the card and she told Lindsay the telephone number.

"Be sure she meets you. I don't know, tell her it's very important. Tell her you have a party tonight, or a wedding, or whatever. But make her go to your place."

"Don't worry, I will."

"Thank you. I owe you big. Later, Linds."

Davis arrived with some sandwiches and sodas. They had lunch. Then, Tru and Buffy went to check the place in Central Park where the slayer's body had been found.

"Tru, we're missing something. If Kathleen is not around, they're not going to attack. I mean, I guess they attacked her and I tried to save her. Just in case, we're going to need a bait."

"I will be the bait."

"No. It's dangerous. I would be me, but I don't know if the Spike from this dimension knows me or not, and in case he does, he's too smart to attack."

"B, let me be the bait. You're going to be there. You will save me in case something goes wrong."

"Are you sure?"

"Yes, I am. We're going to beat them."

Again, in the morgue, Buffy explained to Harrison how to kill a vampire. Davis and Tru listened to her too. They trained a little and prepared the weapons. Tru had nice skills with the bow. Harrison preferred the axe.

They went to Central Park a while before sunset. Buffy wanted them to be ready. They hid behind some trees. When the sun set, Tru began walking around. Buffy was observing her close.

They didn't have to wait for so long as two vampires appeared and attacked Tru. She kicked one of them and ran, as the slayer told her. Buffy made some gestures to Harrison, telling him to wait and she approached the vampires before they could catch the brunette.

"It has to be my lucky night. Two girls in a row. A girl for the boss and a delicious blonde for me."

"But the boss will want her, too." The other vampire was more scared.

"He doesn't need to know, right?"

"Oh, don't tell me you're the bad guy. Feeling rogue today? You know, if you really want to be a badass, why don't you start firing your stylist? Those clothes are so girly, don't you think? What's with vampires and velvet?"

The vampire showed his game face and charged at the blonde. She ducked and kicked him.

"Who the hell are you? Wonderwoman?" The other vampire ran away instead of helping his mate, who was shocked to be beaten by a girl.

"Not even close," Buffy said while kicking him again. He fell and rolled on the ground. She approached him and held his throat. "I'm a slayer. And you're dust."

She was going to stake him when she heard a voice.

"Slayer! Why don't you leave him and fight against the real deal here?"

She dusted the vampire.

"Spike! I was waiting for you."

The bleach blonde vampire was cocky as always.

"Have you missed me, love? What are you doing here? Weren't you in Cleveland?"

"You know, even slayers need some holidays. I wanted to travel around."

"Good for you. That's a shame, your trip ends here. Last time you ran away. Tonight you're not going to have the same good luck." He pointed around. Buffy was surrounded by more than twenty vampires.

Buffy made a sign and Harrison left his hideout. Tru started throwing arrows with the bow, and she killed two vampires.

They circled each other, ready to fight.

"You sure? I've never run away from you. Last time I saw you, actually, you were saving the day and sealing the Hellmouth in Sunnydale..."

"Me?" He snorted "Of course, saving the day and confessing my love for you. Where the bloody hell is Sunnydale?"

"Actually you were a pet, I had you at my mercy. And trust me, after this fight you're dust."

Spike was a little confused. Buffy charged at him sending some punches. One of them connected with his jaw. The bleach vampire laughed.

"Is it the best you can give me, Effy? C'mon, pet, I'm bored."

"Effy...interesting. So Effy is a slayer."

He kicked her in the stomach that made Buffy bend over and he connected his knee with her face. She fell. Harrison was fighting the best he could. He already cut some vampires' heads, but they were too many. Tru was doing great with the bow. But it wasn't enough.

Buffy stood from the ground and kept fighting against Spike. The fight was going to be tough.

Tru heard someone calling her. Davis had arrived with a weird huge backpack and a hosepipe.

"Am I late?"

"You're in time. What are you doing here?"

"I wanted to help and I found the way."

He aimed at the group of vampires and opened the hose. As soon as the water touched the vampires, they stopped fighting and began to ran.

"What's that?"

"Holy water!!"

Soon all the vampires had disappeared. Spike was alone, and Buffy didn't want to lose the chance to kill him.

"It seems it's just you and me. Are you ready to go to hell, Spike?"

He kept attacking the slayer, but she was faster and stronger. Davis sprayed them with some more holy water. Spike tried to run away, but Buffy caught him. She trashed him and sat on his stomach. The blonde pinned him on the floor.

"Game over, Spike."

She punched him repeatedly in the face and then she dusted him.

Tru and Harrison celebrated the victory. Buffy was not as happy as they were. Spike had been a friend, after all, in her dimension. But she knew what she had to do.

"Davis, great idea! We wouldn't have made it without you."

Tru's boss blushed profusely. They took all the weapons. Harrison went home and Davis went back the morgue. He told Tru to take the night off.

Tru was smiling. She came closer to Buffy.

"We made it."

"Yes, we did."

"Oh, I have to call Lindsay!"

After a short call, she looked at Buffy.

"I think I have some tickets to buy..."

Buffy laughed.

"Tru, if you don't mind... I'm exhausted and I need a shower. But first I need to find a place to spend the night. Do you know of any nice motel?"

"You could sleep at my home."

"But I don't want to bother you."

"Hey, you're not bothering me! Let's go!"

They arrived at Tru's house. Buffy took a shower. The brunette lent her some clean clothes.

Tru seemed thoughtful.

"Are you ok?"

"I'm just thinking I'm going to call Effy. You were right, maybe she doesn't want to see me again, but if I don't try I won't know."

"Exactly. And now that you know her big secret, and also knowing what it is to hang with a slayer, you could understand her better."

"Yeah. I fucked things up with her."

Buffy hugged her. Suddenly, a portal started to open in one of the walls.

"Oh, man. Tru, I think i'm going to another dimension. Or maybe home."

"What? At least have some rest first!"

"It's not something I can control. The portal is opening. Take care, okay? You're a great girl. Thanks for saving me."

Tru kissed her on the lips. The next second, Buffy was sucked into the portal. Tru sighed and grabbed her cell phone.

Buffy, from the portal, could still hear Tru.

"Effy? Hi, ehm...Yeah, it's Tru. Could we talk?"

Chapter 4: Wrong Turn, Wrong Girl

Author: Electra

Rated: R

Buffy felt branches hitting her chest and face so she put her arms up to block the many blows. That wasn't a smart idea, of course, as she landed straight on her butt with her legs spread in a `v' before her. She winced as her bottom took the force of her landing and knew that she wasn't going to have the easiest time getting up.

Or walking.

Or, yunno . . . moving.

She leaned back onto her hands, completely ignoring the way her palms pressed into damp soil and leaves. For a moment she was glad that she was alone because the grimace on her face probably would have scared even the most hardened criminal, but the sound of rustling in the nearby brush made her realize that she wasn't, in fact, alone.

Looking around, she realized that the tall trees and rolling hills around her didn't exactly scream familiar.

"Guess that means I'm not exactly in Kansas anymore," she grumbled under her breath. "Or Ohio. Wherever home happens to be that isn't here, obviously."

The rustling in the bushes continued but this time from a different direction. She snapped her head around to look for the source of the noise but it seemed to be on the move and she couldn't quite pin down where it was coming from and who — or what — was making it.

"If you're a big, woman-eating demon, might I suggest you start with a nice roast? The rump has already been tenderized," she said, her voice straining as she stood up and rubbed her sore bottom.

The rustling continued but now it sounded as if it was coming from two directions. Buffy dropped into a defensive position and slowly moved in a small circle, doing her best to keep on guard from all angles. A loud, raucous laugh sounded throughout the woods and Buffy's heart began racing. Animals generally didn't laugh, unless they were hyenas.

Oh god, please don't let them be hyenas. She'd already deja'd that vu.

Suddenly a shape barreled out of the brush and ran toward her, letting out a guttural howl. It had some kind of a crude weapon — maybe a machete? — in its hand and . . . wait, was that a man? Buffy knew that vampires had the ugly bumpies but this guy took the cake when it came to ugly bumpiness!

He swung his arm down hard and would have split her in half had it not been for her slayer reflexes. She leapt to the side and down into a somersault, bouncing almost immediately back up to her feet. She was facing the man who stood a few yards away from her when she heard a twig snap behind her. There was no time to turn so Buffy tried to leap forward into another somersault, but a hand gripped her wrist and pulled her back. She tightened her left hand into a fist and was prepared to spin back and unleash fury when she noticed that it wasn't another bumpy man behind her but a young woman.

A bumpless young woman.

A bumpless young woman that happened to look just like Faith.

"I'd venture a guess that you're Faith, but I know I'd be wrong because there's no way she would ever be out in the woods like this. She's more of a city girl." Then again, Faith had always been unpredictable. Buffy furrowed her brow. "You're not Faith, are you?"

The girl's gaze moved from Buffy's eyes to just over her shoulder where they widened at what they saw behind her.

"I have an idea: we run now and save religious talk for later."

Buffy quickly turned to follow the girl's gaze and brought her hands up just in time to stop the machete from splitting her in half again. She grimaced when her hands touched the wrinkled and lumped-up skin of the man's wrists. When he started to struggle, she brought her leg up and kneed him in the gut, making him double over in pain. His grasp around the rusted machete faltered and Buffy was able to wrestle it away before giving him another hard kick to the abdomen.

"How about we make sure he doesn't follow us first," Buffy said.

She lifted her arm back and quickly brought the machete down, severing the man's head from his body. It clunked onto the forest floor with a sickly thud and rolled just enough for Buffy to see his severely deformed face.

"What was that thing?" she asked, a grimace on her face.

"Some kind of mutant. There were three of them; they murdered my friends and separated me from a guy we met out here."

"So, two left?" Buffy asked, itching her cheek with her shoulder so that she wouldn't have to use her dirty hands.

"As far as I know. We need to keep moving before they find us."

"I second that," Buffy said. They turned and looked around, trying to find a suitable direction to take in the quickly darkening forest. After a few awkward moments of silence, she continued, "I'm Buffy. And . . . I'm sorry about your friends."

The girl nodded and pressed her lips into a firm line, trying to fight back her emotion. "Jessie. Thanks."

They seemed to have settled on an area sloping slightly downwards and started walking in that direction. The light was fading fast and while Buffy had no problem with the dark, she could hear Jessie struggling to keep from tripping beside her. The same eerie laughing from before started sounding from out in the forest again and Buffy knew that they had to pick up their pace if they were going to get away.

Not even thinking about it, she grabbed Jessie's hand and tugged her along a bit quicker, steering her perfectly around the trees, shrubs, and ground debris; using the rusty machete to chop back any limbs in their way. Jessie clung tightly to her as they maneuvered and slid down a gentle slope, and Buffy couldn't help but laugh silently to herself. Faith would never let her lead like that. Faith would never depend on her for anything that involved showing emotions or weakness.

Well, emotions besides lust, that is.

Faith had no problem showing that one, but she also had no problem showing it to damn near everyone she knew. There was no way Buffy would ever respond to it when it obviously meant nothing to Faith.

Besides, Buffy was straight. Totally straight. The straightest girl in the history of straightdom. There was no way she'd ever fall for Faith's many, many, many, many advances.

Shaking her head, Buffy stopped to give Jessie a short break when they reached the bottom of a ravine. She focused her eyes and looked around, scouting for a safe place for them to stop for the night. There was no way of knowing how long she'd be stuck here for and she planned on making it out alive.

"How are you able to see anything out here?" Jessie asked, still a bit out of breath. "You were booking through those woods like you've been through them before. Please tell me you're not local."

"I'm not local," Buffy said easily enough. Seeing the expectant look on Jessie's face, she continued, "I have great eyesight. It's . . . a gift."

"So where are you from and what are you doing out here?" Jessie asked, taking a seat on a large rock.

Buffy remained standing, her eyes fixed on the forest to look for signs of danger.

"That's a loaded question," she said honestly, then sighed. "I'm from Sunnydale originally . . ."

"Whoa, you mean the place with the earthquake?" Jessie asked.

"One in the same. We moved to Cleveland afterwards because there's another Hell . . ." she stopped herself and stole a glance over at Jessie who was looking at her even more strangely now. "Umm, Hello Kitty store. My little sister is obsessed."

"Yeah," Jessie said after a few moments silence, "that wasn't a lie."

Buffy was going to defend herself and her lying ability but her eyes caught the flicker of a torch in the woods at the top of the ravine and she quickly grabbed Jessie's hand and started pulling her along again. She could hear the sound of moving water nearby and, being in the mountains like they were, she figured there'd have to be a cave or a rocky crevice they could hold out in until morning.

"You never answered my second question," Jessie said as they trudged along.

"Second question?" Buffy thought about it for a moment. "Oh, you mean about why I'm out here."

"That's the one," Jessie said. "And maybe you can go for the truth this time."

Buffy shrugged. Why the hell not? "I'm here because I was with my . . . umm, well, Faith — who happens to be your identical twin — in an alley when some kind of a big stoney demon crept up on us. He tossed me into a green portal and I can't seem to figure out how to get back home. And the best part? I have no idea where Faith is. I thought you were her, but the Powers That Be are just pulling some kind of awesome prank on me."

Her sarcasm wasn't lost on Jessie who finally managed to stop staring at her and started walking with more determination.

"Right, so forget the truth then."

"Believe it or not, that was the truth," Buffy said. "Doesn't really matter though. We're still stuck out here. If we can find a place to hide until morning, I'm pretty sure I can get us out of here. I have an incredibly keen sense of direction."

"Hey, Buffy? I hate to break it to you, but we're in the middle of the woods of West Virginia. Our car was trashed and I doubt we'd get out of here if it worked, even if we had a map and compass."

And while Buffy wasn't willing to signal defeat just yet, she knew that she was being optimistic about her ability to get them out of there. Maybe she'd get zapped home before the night was through, but even then . . . what would happen to Jessie out there all alone?

She didn't respond; she simply kept walking, tugging Jessie along with her. As they got nearer the sound of the waterfall, there was a bit more moonlight illuminating the clearing ahead of them around the water. Buffy could vaguely make out a deeply shadowed area behind the falling water and she led them in that direction. Jessie seemed to be slowing down again, though, so Buffy directed them over to a large boulder on the bank so the girl could rest up before their climb.

Jessie didn't need to be told to sit. By the time Buffy turned around, the girl was already seated and rubbing her right leg.

"Are you injured?" Buffy asked.

"I cut my leg up a little bit earlier. Guess that happens when you fall out of a tree." She paused when Buffy bent down before her and placed the machete on the ground, then lifted up her pant leg as high as her jeans would allow. "Jesu....ouch!"

"Sorry," Buffy apologized, her eyes focusing in the dim light of the moon. "We're gonna have to clean this leg if you don't want it to get infected."

"Are you some kind of nurse?" Jessie asked, wincing when Buffy pushed her pant leg back down and grabbed the machete.

"I've just seen my share of bumps and bruises," Buffy answered evasively. "Think you can walk?"

"Yeah."

Jessie stood up unsteadily, her leg feeling worse and worse every time they stopped. Her adrenaline was pumping less and those oh-so-good endorphins were wearing off.

"Come on," Buffy said, ducking her head under Jessie's arm so that she could help the girl along.

They struggled up a rocky slope and climbed until they were able to reach a small ledge on the cavern wall. Buffy had to walk in front of Jessie on the narrow ledge but she still held her hand, offering as much physical support as she could. When they finally reached the mouth of the black cave hidden mostly by the waterfall, Buffy let go of Jessie's hand and made her wait on the ledge while she went inside and checked it out. Satisfied that the cave was vacant of any kind of creatures that could harm them, Buffy jogged back to Jessie's side and helped her into the cave, settling her down with her back against a big boulder.

"We need a cloth to dampen so that I can take care of that leg," Buffy said.

Seeing as that her pants were already mostly demolished, Jessie ripped off the material from her calf down and tossed it over to Buffy. Wasting no time, Buffy quickly made her way back to the cave entrance and ran the cloth through the waterfall, wringing it out several times. Once it was fully saturated again, she gave it one last wring and made her way back to Jessie. She knelt down in front of her and looked up into her eyes, lingering there for a moment.

"This is probably gonna hurt, huh," Jessie said.

"Probably. And as much as you want to scream your head off, you can't. Those things are still out there and we can't tip them off to our hiding spot."

Jessie took in a deep breath and exhaled through her nose. She nodded after a moment and rested her head back on the boulder, bracing herself for the pain.

Buffy went straight to work, carefully wiping over the wounds as best as possible. There were some deep gashes along with a few shallow scrapes and she could tell that Jessie was doing everything in her power to keep quiet.

"If you were Faith, you'd be swearing and possibly throwing punches at me right now," Buffy said, slightly amused. Besides, she figured that the distraction might be good for Jessie.

"Trust me, the urge is there," Jessie replied, making Buffy chuckle softly.

"I need to rinse this again. Stay here."

"Not like I'm gonna jump up and do a little dance behind your back."

Buffy made her way back to the entrance again and rinsed and wrung the cloth several times before making her way back to Jessie's side. She quickly but gently swabbed the wounds a couple more times before blowing on them to take the stinging away.

"That's as good as we're gonna get," she said, tossing the soiled cloth to the side.

"Thanks," Jessie replied, scooting back up against the boulder a little.

They were quiet for a few minutes as Buffy rested back against the wall opposite the boulder so that they were facing one another. Buffy closed her eyes and sighed, trying to figure out their next move. Jessie needed to rest — and honestly, she did too — but they had to put some distance between them and the two remaining mutants after them. Even then, how was she supposed to get back to Cleveland and the world that she knew, and more so, would Faith be waiting for her when she got back?

"Tell me about her," Jessie said, her voice weary.

"Faith?" Buffy asked. At Jessie's nod, she drew in a deep breath and exhaled. "She looks just like you. A bit pig-headed though. Stubborn. Very, umm . . . flirty."

"Is that why you're pissed at her?" Jessie asked.

"Why do you think I'm pissed at her?" Buffy asked, intrigued.

"Just a vibe I get," Jessie replied with a shrug. "So she flirts and you get jealous?"

"Why would I get jealous?" Buffy asked. She was lucky it was dark in the cave because if Jessie had been able to clearly see her face, she'd probably be laughed at.

"Cos your girl's flirting with other people?" Jessie said like it was obvious.

And Buffy couldn't help but laugh at that. "Faith is not my girlfriend."

"Oh," Jessie said after a few moments, sounding fairly confused. "I guess it's just the way you were acting . . . sorry, Buffy. My bad, I guess."

"Don't worry about it," Buffy said. She scootched around until her back was against the same boulder Jessie was resting on. She didn't really want the girl to be able to see her face, even though the chances of that happening were slim in the dark cave. "It's funny; you're not the first person to make that assumption."

"Really?"

"Yep," Buffy replied. But instead of letting the conversation stray into really awkward territory, she quickly changed the subject. "So what brought you out to Hillbilly Hell?"

"My friend Carly. She found out that I got dumped over my answering machine and decided that it would be inhumane to keep me in the city," Jessie chuckled a little when she said `inhumane.' "She got a bunch of our friends together, brought us out here . . . now I'm the only one alive."

"It's not your fault," Buffy said quietly, taking Jessie's hand again. She wasn't sure why she was being so touchy feely but something in her made her want to comfort the girl.

"How can it not be?" Jessie asked, looking over at Buffy with teary eyes. "We're out here because of me."

"You were out here because your friends obviously cared a great deal about you."

Suddenly Buffy looked down at her lap, a feeling of guilt washing over her. Had anyone ever been there like that for Faith? She knew she hadn't, and her friends certainly hadn't; had there ever been anyone to steal Faith away from the nightmare that was often her life? God, it was no wonder they'd had such a hard time getting along before; Buffy had been pretty crappy to her!

"And you care a lot about her, I can tell," Jessie said quietly, having noticed the change in Buffy.

"My relationship . . . friendship with her isn't easy. Never has been, and I'm not sure it ever will be."

She looked up from her lap to meet Jessie's gaze but was surprised instead by a pair of soft lips that instantly sought out her own. To say that she was shocked was a bit of an understatement. In fact, it took her a few seconds, but she eventually responded, kissing back with gentle encouragement. She wasn't sure why this was happening or even if it was a good idea — in fact, she was sure it wasn't — but she couldn't seem to stop herself. This was easy and unassuming and why couldn't it have ever been like this with Faith?

So distracted they were that they never noticed the sound of a few pebbles scraping down the rocks outside the cave, nor had they seen the single torch that danced around outside the falling water.

They only thing that pulled them apart was the sound of the howling laughter that echoed throughout the cave when one of the mutants entered and stood at the mouth. He was lean and shirtless, his dirty and tangled long blonde hair partially hiding his face. Still, with the light from the torch, Buffy could see just how grotesque he was. She was back on her feet in a split second, machete in hand and jaw clenched as she looked angrily upon their intruder.

Jessie squirmed around until she was on the other side of the boulder, just barely able to peek over the top of it.

"Buffy, what are you doing? We need to get out of here!" Jessie said, panicked.

"One of us isn't walking out of here," she said to the mutant, ignoring Jessie's pleas and the crude gesture that he was making with his tongue. "And that's not going to be me."

The mutant grunted and howled a few times, waving his hunting knife around threateningly. If he kept up those crazy noises, the last mutant was going to find them. Taking one on was easy, but taking on two might be a bit overwhelming in the small space.

Thinking quickly, Buffy reared back and tossed the machete through the air, aiming it directly at the mutant's head. It would have worked great, had he not knocked it out of the way with his knife.

"Oh, bad. Bad bad move," Buffy said nervously as she took a step back.

The mutant howled with laughter and Jessie actually had to cover hear ears as the noise echoed loudly in the cave. When he bent down to pick up the machete, Buffy acted quickly and charged him. Her shoulder pushed into his side and sent him stumbling backwards, unable to catch his balance. He flew backward out of the cave and Buffy was barely able to stop herself from following after him. Her arms moved in little circles as she teetered on the edge and the only thing that stopped her from plummeting over the side was the hand that roughly grabbed her shirt from behind. She stumbled back into Jessie and sighed gratefully.

"Is he dead?" Jessie asked.

"I don't know." Buffy quickly extinguished the fallen torch in the water, hoping that even if the last mutant was in the area he wouldn't be able to find them. "Stay here," she said, then maneuvered out onto the ledge from behind the waterfall and looked down below them.

It was darker than she'd expected when she looked down, the moon's reflection on the pool of water doing little to illuminate the bottom of the cavern walls. She squinted and focused her eyes, trying as hard as she could to look for any movement below. It took nearly a minute of active searching until her eyes found the vague shape of a body on the rocks below. She leaned forward just a little bit more and saw exactly what she was looking for. The mutant was lying awkwardly over the sharp rocks, his head bashed in almost unrecognizably.

"It's sad that that's actually an improvement," she said and shook her head. She turned and walked back into the cave, coming face to face with a worried Jessie.

"He's dead. The body is out in the open though so we probably need to keep moving before his friend finds him and figures out where we're hiding."

Jessie nodded, the pain in her leg almost forgotten now after the sudden rush of adrenaline. She looked down at the ground and frowned.

"Where's the machete?"

"I think our friend took it with him," Buffy said dryly. "It's okay, I can improvise. Come on."

Jessie took her hand and they made their way across the narrow ledge and down the rocky slope back down to the ground. Buffy was fairly certain that she could see the dimmest flicker of torchlight in the woods above them but she didn't say anything, deciding that frightening Jessie even further was pretty pointless.

They followed the water downstream, staying near the bank but close enough to the tree line that they were mostly hidden from plain view. Buffy made sure to stop as often as possible to let Jessie rest and even offered to carry the girl when it was obvious that the lack of sleep was getting to her, but Jessie just looked at her like she was crazy and carried on like a tough little trooper.

Okay, so maybe she was a little like Faith after all.

Neither girl brought up the kiss that they'd shared even though it was pretty much all Buffy could think about. It had been sudden and unexpected but not entirely unwelcome. That much had been apparent by the way she'd kissed back without really meaning to. Unfortunately for her, it meant that she and Faith were going to need to have a long talk once she got back to Cleveland.

If she got back to Cleveland, that is.

At this point, she wasn't so sure that would happen.

They walked for hours until Buffy could sense traces of dawn through the treetop canopy. Feeling no sense of immediate danger, they stopped to rest against the thick trunk of a towering cottonwood tree. Jessie was panting lightly, her brow creased from the pain she was obviously in.

"I should check your leg again; clean it," Buffy said. She moved to kneel down in front of Jessie but the girl stopped her, lazily slapping her hands away.

Buffy wondered why the girl was stopping her but when she looked up at her face, she saw that Jessie was looking off to the side, squinting as she gazed through the trees.

"Please tell me that's not a mirage," Jessie mumbled.

Buffy stood and followed her gaze. It was hard to tell in the dim morning light but she was pretty sure she was seeing it too.

"It's not," she said, her heart starting to beat excitedly.

"Looks like the overgrown road my friends and I tried to take as a shortcut," Jessie said. "If we follow it down, we can get out of these hills and into the open. Pretty sure that the last hillbilly freak won't follow us out there."

"Do you have a car there?"

"It was totaled," Jessie said with a sigh. "It doesn't matter though. If we can make it out of these woods and to the highway, we can hitchhike. There's a little half-assed store at the base of the mountain; they have a map. We'll be able to find our way."

"That wouldn't be the same map that led you up Mutant Mountain in the first place, would it?"

As she turned to gaze over at Jessie, Buffy caught the slightest of a whirring sound coming at them. Quicker than Jessie could anticipate, Buffy grabbled her by the shoulders and pushed her down to the ground just as an arrow whirred over them and lodged itself in the tree they'd been stood against. They scurried around and looked behind them to see the last mutant just across the stream, quiver of arrows on his back and a bow pointed directly at them.

"Move!" Buffy yelled.

They scrambled to their feet and began to run through the woods, hoping that the trees would afford them a bit of cover. Buffy zigzagged and encouraged Jessie to do the same but the girl was clearly struggling with her injured leg. Breathing hard, Buffy doubled back and grabbed Jessie by the arm, then began pulling her along again.

Another arrow zipped over their heads and thunked loudly in a tree trunk they'd just passed.

"Just keep running," Buffy yelled, "he has to run out of arrows soon."

"How do you know?"

"Because he had three in his quiver and the one in his hand he just shot at us. That means he has three left."

They continued running, trying hard not to look back despite the fact that they could hear the mutant pursuing them. It seemed as though they'd reached a clearing but when they got closer, they saw that the grass suddenly ended and dropped down a rocky wall to the stream below.

"Whoa whoa whoa!" Buffy said, barely keeping her footing as Jessie slammed into her from behind. "We can't go down there. It's too dangerous and we don't know if we'll be able to get back up here and back to the road."

"Then what do we do?"

"Duck!" Buffy yelled and pulled Jessie down to the ground again. Another arrow whirred above them but they weren't quite safe yet as another arrow charged at them, much lower to the ground this time. She grabbed the collar of Jessie's shirt and rolled them to the side just in time to avoid the arrow slicing through both of them at once.

No sooner than they rolled to the side did Buffy stand and start running again, dragging Jessie with her.

"He's just got one arrow left," Buffy panted, hopping over a fallen log. "Once the arrows are gone, I can fight him."

"Buffy, don't be ridiculous!" Jessie exclaimed.

"You saw me take the other two. This guy should be easy."

"He's the biggest of the three!" Jessie said, cringing when she thought of the hideous and massive man.

"Yeah, but now I'm pissed!" Buffy yelled. She glanced down at her jacket and glared at the huge grass stain on the elbow. That had been her favorite jacket!

They were back in the woods now and dodging in and out of trees, no longer holding hands. Buffy made sure Jessie stayed ahead of her, knowing fully well that she could heal from any superficial wounds much faster than Jessie ever could. There was a small clearing in the trees and they ran through it, the road just ahead of them. Buffy heard the ping of the bow and the whoosh of the last arrow. It flew directly at her and only missed her head by an inch. The arrow sailed across the road and plunged itself deep into another cottonwood tree with a loud thunk.

"That was the last one," Jessie said breathlessly, bent over with her hands on her knees.

"My time to shine," Buffy said with a maniacal grin.

She turned around and ran back to the tree line and stopped dead when she saw the last mutant standing there with his bow drawn and one last arrow perched in it. He was aiming it directly at her and Buffy dropped to her knees, eyes wide.

The mutant made a crude gesture with his tongue — how charming — and drew back the string even harder, ready to let the arrow fly. She couldn't make it to him before he fired it off. If she jumped up, he might aim it at Jessie. Breathing deeply, Buffy closed her eyes and waited. She could hear the birds in the surrounding trees singing their song in the fresh morning. She could hear Jessie's harsh breaths. She could smell the mutant's pungent odor.

And she heard the miniscule movement of the string before the arrow even shot forward.

Her hand snapped up and she caught the arrow just an inch away from her face. The mutant grunted in surprise but that sound was nothing compared to the howl he emitted when Buffy reared back and sent the arrow flying at his neck just as hard as a bow could have. The iron tip caught in his throat and the mutant struggled, falling down onto his knees. He was eye-to-eye with Buffy when he grabbed the shaft and yanked the arrow out, tearing most of his throat along with it. He gurgled and spluttered, then fell face first into the deep grass.

"How did you do that?" Jessie asked as she hobbled over and dropped to her knees beside Buffy, making sure she was okay. She eyed the mutant warily, afraid he would spring back to life at any moment.

"Lucky catch," Buffy replied, still staring at the corpse. After a moment she shook her head and then gazed over at Jessie. "Come on, let's go."

They stood up using one another for support and made their way to the road. It was overgrown and unkempt but Jessie was sure that it would lead back down to the shop and eventually the main road. Sure enough, a few hours later the old wooden building with the rusted tin roof came into vision and both Buffy and Jessie sighed with relief. Even if they still had a lot of walking to do, at least they were out of the woods.

"So what happens now?" Jessie asked.

Buffy shrugged and drew in a deep breath, "We find our way to the main road and get the hell out of West Virginia."

"Where are you going to head to?"

Again, Buffy shrugged. "Back home, I hope. I really don't have any control over that though."

"So are you crazy or were you just messing with me when you told me that whole deal with demons and portals last night?"

And Buffy couldn't help but chuckle quietly.

"I'm probably a little bit crazy, but I wasn't messing with you. It's . . . complicated."

"Sure sounds like it," Jessie agreed.

They walked in silence for a few more minutes, the shop just ahead of them now.

"I was thinking," Jessie continued, "if things don't work out for you, maybe you can come to the city for a visit."

Buffy smiled. It wasn't like one of Faith's usual invitations but Jessie reminded her of Faith so much then that her heart ached for home.

"Maybe," Buffy replied. "I'm really hoping that I'll make it home this time."

"Yeah, I get that," Jessie said and looked down at the dirt road. "Thanks for . . . well, everything."

They'd reached the shop and Buffy stopped just in front of the wooden porch, turning to face Jessie. She felt bad that she wasn't able to stay here; Jessie was a great girl and a lot like Faith. Heck, maybe even better than Faith; the lack of baggage and drama sure made things easy between them

But this wasn't her home, and Buffy couldn't just sit around and forget where she came from.

Smiling softly, Buffy leaned up and gave Jessie a soft kiss on her cheek, then on the corner of her lips.

"I'm glad you made it," she said sincerely.

"Yeah, well . . . we're not exactly on the road to home yet," Jessie said with a nervous laugh.

Getting the hint, Buffy climbed up onto the porch and looked at the map up on the wall. The highway was faintly marked but the most prominent road outlined was the one that led to Mutant Mountain.

"You know what?" She tore the map down from the wall. "I think we'll find our way just fine on our own."

She ripped it into a hundred pieces and let them fall freely around her onto the dusty old floor boards. Wiping her hands on her pants, she turned around to face Jessie with a smile . . . and promptly fell through a swirling black and green portal that had opened up just beneath her feet.

Chapter 5: Care to Tango?

Author: lycanthrope

Rated: PG-13

Name -Dana Tasker (code name Tabby)

Age — 21

Occupation — Agent 56482, Omega Sector

Alias — Dana Stevens — Graphics designer.

Current Location — Toshima, Tokyo.

Yep. That's me. All summed up in three little sentences. Well that's what my dad would have you believe if you were some guy chasing tail. Hell, I think that's all I'd have you believe if you were some guy chasing tail. I might have to edit out my actual occupation though. What with that being a breach of national security and everything.

Seriously though, you could read my file forwards, backwards, upside-down and inside out and you could never know who I really am. You would know I'm an agent for the Omega Sector. You'd also know that I'm the daughter of two of the best agents this division has ever seen. That I'm an adrenalin junky, and I wouldn't think twice about jumping from any height, with or without a parachute. I always seem to land on my feet, so why mess with a good thing? Where do you think I got my code name? Drives my dad nuts. You should see him; he gets this big vain that pops out of his neck.

You could know all of that and not know who I am. `Cause the truth is I am whoever the agency tell me to be. Today I will be playing Dana Stevens. Computer Graphics Designer, currently working with the Yakimoto Corporation, a large entertainment company in Tokyo. They called me in to try to get the flow of clothing in computer graphics for their up-and-coming release.

You've already guessed that it's all a cover. There's a computer wiz back at the hotel remotely controlling my computer so it looks like I'm actually able to understand HTML or RSS or any other sort of computer language. Sorry to say this, ladies and gentlemen, but it's all just ones and zeros to me.

That's not to say that I'm only here to copy the homework from someone else. While my computer genius works his magic, I'm out here working a little magic of my own. Here's a little bit of background for you. Yakimoto Corp. is a relatively small animation entertainment company. I'm in Tokyo for Christ sake. There are some pretty big fish in this pond. Somehow even in this economic climate this small fish in the Pacific Ocean of animation is managing to stay alive. Not only that, it's managing to chase all the sharks away with little to no struggle.

So some computer geek... Er genius back in the States starts to look over the records for the company for his economics project... Yeah this kid's in eighth grade. Anyway he finds this big hole in their account. We're talking the equivalent of three billion dollars. Our eighth grade genius goes to his teacher thinking at some point he must have just dropped a one or something and lost over three billion dollars in the companies accounting records. His teacher wisely contacted the US government. That was six months ago.

Now we have some compelling evidence that the company's entertainment connection is a cover story for the real business behind it all. Selling nuclear warheads. I know, I know. There's always some nut job company selling nuclear warheads out the back door, but it got my bosses quaking in their very expensive boots. So here I am. My mission today is simple, get in and gain access to one of the big shots' computer, so the genius on my team can work his magic and get some concrete evidence, then get out. My dad's kinda intense about the last part.

The black SUV comes to a halt at the door. "I think we should go over the plan, Dana." My Dad pulls on the parking break and turns to me. His thick Austrian accent, showing through more than usual, with his worry. He's my handler. He insisted, not that I don't like him around in those life or death situations. I'm all grown up, but my old man is still looking out for me.

I turn to him, trying to hide my smirk. "Pops, we've been over this at least six times in the ride over, and I lost count in the hotel. I know what I'm doing."

There's the vein! "That's what worries me." He turns his eyes back to the road, his knuckles going white on the steering wheel.

I give him a moment to compose himself. He always gets like this when I go undercover. This mission is only a light cover, but it still gets to him. It's strange, but I think it would make him feel better if I were to be in an all-out firefight with us on one side of a room and the terrorists on the other. "Hook me up Johnny." I turn in my seat to accept my earpiece from our tech guy. It fits easily into my ear canal and my hair comes down to conceal it from the world. "Check."

"I read you, Dana." Johnny smiles and turns back to his screens. We got ourselves a father/daughter moment going on over here. So he pulls his earphones over his ears and gives us our privacy.

"I'm ready, Dad."

He gives me a short nod before letting out a long breath. "Be careful, Dana."

I give him a large dimpled grin. He always says that. "Why start now?" And I always say that. I pop the door and pull my laptop bag over my shoulder. Lets get this show on the road.

My palm pushes against the cold glass of the doorway, walking with confidence across the cavernous reception. Why is everything so Big in Tokyo? My fake identification slides cleanly across the glass reception desk and the Japanese falls easily from my lips. "I'm Dana Stevens, computer Graphics Designer. I'm here to see Mr. Yasmerik."

A perfectly sculpted eyebrow is raised in my direction. She snatches my ID from the surface and scans her eyes across it. She turns to her computer screen without a word and begins to furiously type away. Seriously, her fingers are moving so fast across the keys they are like a blur. Without thinking about it, I feel both of my eyebrows raise. She stops for a moment and presses a single button four times slowly and once again goes back to furiously typing something into the machine. I'm almost ready to just walk away and try my luck in the elevator when she abruptly stops typing and turns back in my direction with a large smile on her face. Starting to think I prefer the frown. "Thank you Miss Stevens. Mr. Yasmerik is waiting for you. Go to the fifth floor. His office is the last one on the left."

She hands me back my ID still with that smile on her face. It doesn't look natural. Go back to frowning woman. "Thank you." Now all I have to do is run away from the scary smiling lady.

I make it to the elevator and out of the woman's sight before I can blow my cover by screaming and running for the door.

My dad is staying suspiciously silent in my ear on the ride up to the fifth floor. I don't question it I need this time to get into geek mode. I have Johnny in my ear feeding me all the technical stuff, but I still have to appear to be excited about this stuff. The elevator announces in Japanese that I have reached my destination and the doors slide open.

Quick trip to the john and I'm all set.

I make my way into the restroom and occupy a cubical after I check under all of the doors to make sure I'm alone. The toilet tank lid lifts clean off the porcelain base and I tuck my little present into the side. Submerging it in the water before replacing the lid. I push my mic further into my ear and confirm the payment. "Blackbirds are in the pie. We are a go." God I hate code phrases.

I set my shoulders and make my way along the long corridor. Knocking on the glass office door, a small man looks up from his screen to me with a frown on his face. I'm not totally surprised by this. I've only spoken to Mr. Yasmerik on the phone and the tech guys have been speaking to him via email. This is the first time we've actually met.

He stands from his desk and comes to the door. It opens sharply and I have a small Japanese man looking at me like he could melt me where I stand with only the power of thought. "Can I help you."

My training kicks in as I bow politely to him. "Good afternoon Mr. Yasmerik. I am Dana Stevens, we spoke on the phone."

Immediately his face lights up and he smiles wide. "Yes, yes Miss Stevens. Why didn't you say so?" He slips easily into excellent English, which makes my job so much better. Now I don't have to translate geek language into Japanese. Just listen and repeat.

He calls me into his office and urges me to open my laptop that is being controlled by Johnny back at the van. He feeds me all of the technical bullshit for the program they have been working on for the animation and I repeat it word for word. I kinda switch off through this conversation. This is really not my thing. It doesn't take long for me to press the release in my pocket setting off the smoke bomb, which I placed into the toilet earlier. The fire alarms go off in seconds.

Mr. Yasmerik immediately stands and silently leaves his office forming an orderly line to the stairs to leave the building. Gotta love how disciplined these Japanese are. I'm at his PC in an instant, plugging in my portable modem so Johnny can work his magic.

"All yours, Johnny." I say to the tech and he's already working his magic before I can finish.

My dad's voice comes over the com link. "How did it go?"

"Fire drill went off just like we planned. Keep an eye on the fire services. Don't want to get caught up here."

He chuckles. His nerves are settling down. "What's your exit strategy?"

I smile at this; I really do take after the old man. "I was just going to follow the fire code."

Now he's laughing. "Ballsy."

"Nearly there, Johnny?"

There's a sigh of frustration that comes through the com links. "These are some pretty heavy firewalls and encrypted documents. I'm going to need some time."

Great. "We don't have time. Copy everything; we'll go through it back at HQ."

"Copy that." I love being in charge.

The air shifts around me, picking up speed, which isn't physically possible. The Air Con goes down when the fire alarms go off. Papers on the desk begin to lift from the desk before being swept into the air around me. What the fuck is going on?

It starts as a small green impossible dot in the middle of the room. It quickly grows in size, becoming a huge pulsating green... what? All I'm coming up with is hole in reality. I feel stuck to the spot. My legs will not carry me away. But really where would I go? It's kinda blocking the doorway. "Pop. Could be a change in plan." Somehow I manage to keep both the fear and my confusion out of my voice.

Through this pulsating green light drops a blonde figure and the hole disappears in an instant. I have to blink a few times to remind myself of exactly what happened. I have indisputable proof of that in the form of a petite blonde girl now lying on the floor. What the fuck was that?

She begins to stroke the thin carpet under her. "Solid, it's solid." She pats the floor just to reassure herself that it is in fact there. "Land. Like land." She pushes herself onto her back and smiles up to the ceiling. Her eyes catch me and I suddenly take up all of her attention. "Faith?" Why does she sound so hopeful?

"You found God in the pulsating green light?" My training still hasn't kicked in after the shock. I just said the first thing I thought. "Hay, if you found your faith in there that's slightly fucked up."

She shakes her head. "Not Faith." She arches her back and springs herself up onto her feet and on instinct I drop into a defensive combat pose. "Can't I land in an alternate dimension where the name `Faith' doesn't evoke biblical references? I'm starting to see a theme here."

"What is going on, Dana?" My Dad's thick accent assaults my ear. I'd forgotten he was even there.

I swallow back the lump in my throat. Alternate dimension? So are we saying that I just witnessed a rip in space and time? I need to get out of here. "Change of plan. Did you get the copy?"

The blond girl in front of me tilts her head to the side in question. To be fair to her it does look as though I'm talking to myself.

John's voice crackles in my ear. "I've got eighty-seven percent copied. I just need another two minutes."

"You've got one. I'm extracting." I reach down and pull my laptop bag up onto the desk.

"New plan?"

I consider John's question with a tilt of my head, which I know he can't see. "It's only five floors up."

The blonde is at my side by now and she makes me jump as she speaks. "You're going to jump?!?" Where did all of my levels of unflappable go?

Angry at myself for letting this small woman get to me like this, I rip open the bag's padding and pull out my climbing gloves. "What difference does it make if I do?"

"Dana, who are you talking to?" It's my Dad again. His accent has gotten thicker.

"Not now, Pop!" I never yell at my pop. Especially not when we're on a mission. What the fuck is wrong with me?!

The blonde woman opens her arms in question. "Who are you talking to? Or are you just a little insane?"

I've blown my cover. That's why dad is getting stressed. "Shit." I feel my blood run cold. This has never happened to me before. And I mean never. My heart hammers heavily in my chest. "Shit." I have to get out of here like ten minutes ago. "Shit."

Ignore the cute blonde and get out. How am I doing that again? I'm jumping. I reach back into the lining of the bag and pull out a small amount of plastic explosives and push them tight to the glass of the window. My gaze fixes back onto the very distracting blonde girl. "I'd get down if I were you."

Hers eyes open wide, and in a very comic style, she dives behind the desk. I run at the desk and slide over the polished wooden surface, my fingers latching onto the bag as I go. My thumb depresses the detonator and the explosives blast the large window clean open.

Glass flies all around us and I pull my weapon from its holster and check the ammunition. We're good to go. It slides back and I pull back the slider readying the weapon for action.

Not a moment too soon as a guard armed with an AK47 comes into view at Mr. Yasmerik's glass office door. Finally my training kicks in and I point and shoot on instinct. He goes down like a lead balloon with a bullet wedged firmly between his eyes. "We've got company, boys!"

"Get out of there!"

"Roger that!" I want out right now! I pull my bag back into my lap pulling out a small harpoon mounted onto a crossbow. "See you on the ground. Over and out." I need to concentrate. He knows he can't be in my ear for this.

"Bring the girl." His voice books no argument.

"What?!" Doesn't mean I'm not going to argue with him. "I can't bring her."

I hear his frustrated sigh. "You have been compromised. You need to take her with you."

I resist the urge to growl. "Roger." I push through gritted teeth. "Over and out." I turn back to the blonde at my side who is pointing at the dead guard on the floor. Her mouth is wide open like she wants to say something, but can't quite get the words out. What the fuck is her problem now? "Looks like you're coming with me."

"You shot..." Her arm begins to shake.

I have to sigh; dead bodies not such a big deal any more. "It's happens."

All she can do is look at me horrified. "but you shot..."

I cut her off already, bored with the turn in our conversation. "It's happens we've been over this." I turn, steadying my aim on the desk, and aiming at the building across the street. Pulling on the trigger, the force of the shot pushes against my shoulder. The harpoon sails through the air and imbeds itself into the concrete of the far building. "Get over it, Blondie." I tug as hard as I can against the rope. Hope to hell that this is going to support the both of us.

Pulling myself to my feet and prepare for my leap of faith. My firearm goes back into its holster; my gloves are pulled onto my hands and the portable modem slides easily into my inside pocket. I pull my earphone from beneath my blouse and push it into my ear. Need to be in my zone. "You're going to have to hold onto me," I tell the blonde who is still sitting against the desk staring at the dead guard; I snap my fingers in front of her eyes to gain her attention.

She comes out of her daze quickly and brings her full attention to me. "Yeah?"

"I don't have a harness; you're going to have to hold onto me." I see her gulp down her fear before she nods. She stands and I position her arms around me. She clings to me, both of her arms over my shoulders. She grips one of her wrists with her other hand so tight I see her skin turn white. I bend a little and coax her into jumping up onto my back and hooking her legs around my middle. Kinda don't want her to strangle me. "Ready?"

There's a short pause as she takes in a shaky breath. "I think so."

A smile pulls itself across my face. "Good enough." I push the play button on my MP3 player and my left ear is filled with heavy metal. "Here goes nothing."

My grip on the rope tightens and I run towards the window, and without giving myself time to rethink this plan, I dive.

We freefall through the air for several feet before the rope pulls taught and our decent is pulled into a rapid arch. We pendulum though the air and head to the building across the street with rapidly increasing speed. This is going to hurt.

I try to turn us both so I take most of the impact, but the best I can manage is to turn us both onto our side. My shoulder collides with the concrete building, forcing all of the air out of my lungs. We bounce from the impact and all I can do is hold on for dear life until we stop. We bounce a couple more times before coming to a relative stop. "You okay back there?"

"Think I might lose my lunch." At least she's honest. But damn I think she's going to break my hip if she doesn't let up with them legs.

"Wanna loosen your grip a little?" She quietly apologies and loosens the grip her legs have on me. Now I have room to move. I wrap my left hand more securely around the rope, winding it around my palm. My right hand releases the rope and reaches out to the wall at our side. Immediately those legs are threatening to break bones again. I have to grit my teeth and take the pain for now. My right palm pushes against concrete to push us both away from the wall so I can turn us, planting the soles of my boots against the wall.

My right hand comes up and pulls my earphone from my ear. It hangs against my chest, still blaring heavy metal rock music. I don't need it anymore. The whole point of it being there is it stops me thinking of what I'm about to do. Right now I don't have a lot of choice. I lean over and see how far away the ground is. Still too far to just fall. Way too far.

"Gonna have to loosen up again, girlfriend." Her grip tightens still further. Want did I say? She begins to relax against me giving me space to do what I need to do. I secure both of my hands around the rope and make sure I'm happy with my grip. "Ready?"

"What for?"

"I'm goanna have to take that as a yes." Both of my legs push us out from the wall, my grip releasing on the rope, and we descend. A high-pitched scream rings through my left ear the whole way down until my feet plant once again onto the wall, my grip on the rope tightening to halt our decent. "My God you can scream." I have to physically force myself not to rub my almost bleeding ear. I should have left my earphone in.

"You should have heard her when you jumped." Johnny says through the com link.

I feel myself chuckle as I push off from the wall and descend further. Her scream rings through my ear again. I'm not going to have any eardrums left after this.

When my feet finally hit the ground she scrambles off me to the pavement and once again she's stroking the floor. "Ground, solid earth. I'm never going to leave you again." Weird chick.

My ears are ringing and I have to bring the heel of my palm up to double check that I haven't actually started to bleed. No blood that's good. My dad jumps out of the black SUV and spares a glance at the blonde woman on the floor. He turns his gaze back to me, throwing the keys in my direction. I catch them on instinct.

He's saying something. His lips are moving but I can't hear him over the intense ringing in my ears. I smack the heel of my palm into my left ear trying to dislodge whatever is causing the constant ringing. "What?"

He raises his voice and that vein is back in his neck. "I said you drive."

I blink a couple of times. "Check."

He swoops down and collects the blonde woman from the floor throwing her over his shoulder in a fireman's lift. All she can do is complain that she can't touch the `solid ground' any more.

I slide into the driver seat as Pop slides open the side door and pushes the blonde woman into the vehicle. The door closes securely behind him just as armed guards come rushing out of the building. "We've got company," I tell the boys in the back before turning the key and pulling the van into a dangerous U-turn across heavy traffic and speed down the street.

All my Dad can say is "Lose them." Already on that, Pop.

I place the butt of my palm against the steering wheel so I can make these turns faster and shift up a gear, weaving in and out of traffic. There are two black sedans tailing me. Keeping up as well.

The blonde woman in the back pipes up again. "I'm really gonna ralph."

I shift the wheel to the left and pull into oncoming traffic, trying to lose my two new best friends. "Fine by me, just don't scream at me any more. Kay?"

My dad's large voice filters through from the back of the van, as Johnny squeals as I shift the vehicle violently to the left back onto the right side of the road. "Who are you?"

"Buffy Summers," she says instantly.

I let out a short laugh. "No really."

Her voice takes on a very defensive tone. "Really, that's my name. Buffy Anne Summers." She must release where she is at that moment because her tone goes from defensive to fearful in an instant. "Who are you people?"

"Spooks." I say, trying to put as much mystery in my voice as I can. My cover is already blown so why not? My foot slams down on the clutch as I change down into second gear to turn across traffic down a narrow side street.

The radio springs to life in the centre consol. "This is Momma Bear calling Tabby Cat, how do you read?"

Hey, Ma. You didn't think my dad would be getting all the fun being my handler did you? Just in case you're wondering, his radio call sign is Papa Bear. Uninventive I'll grant you, but he's my Pop... and he's built like a bear. I snatch up the transmitter and press the button. "Reading you, Five by Five, Momma bear."

"Stop doing that," is all I hear from behind me.

My head turns so I can get a better view of the back of the van. A frustrated blonde is looking back at me. Seriously what have I said now? "Stop doing what, B?"

Her eyes go wide and her mouth does that hanging open thing again where she's trying to say something, but doesn't quite know how to word it. I raise my eyebrows in question as she settles on what she wants to say. She sharply points to the windscreen and screams, "Eyes on the road!"

My eyes snap back round immediately. Forgot I was driving there for just a moment. "I thought we agreed on no more screaming!" I'm quickly approaching the end of the narrow street. In my side mirrors I can still she the two sedans following us, gaining ground on us.

The radio jumps to life again. "Tabby Cat, what is your twenty?"

The van clears the walls on either side of us and pulls across the busy highway. My palm closes over the hand break and pulls it sharply upwards as I turn the wheel quickly to the left. The wheels squeal against the tarmac. The van turns ninety degrees and I push the parking break back down slamming my booted foot heavily into the accelerator.

The wheels turn uselessly with the sudden change in direction before finally gaining grip, and we launch forward as the two sedans leave the narrow street turning to follow us.

My dads voice booms through from the back, I hear as he un-holsters his firearm and pulls the slider back. "Dana, answer your Mother."

"Yes, Dad." The side door slides open and he stands, bracing himself against the frame. I pull the transmitter back to my lips, pressing the button. "Current twenty is travelling west down Nanpa Sutorд"to. Currently being pursued by two, repeat, two black Subaru Legacy's." I flinch as my dad discharges his firearm towards the Subaru's. As an afterthought I add down the radio communication, "Shots fired." Throwing the transmitter back down onto the passenger seat, I have to concentrate on weaving through the heavy Tokyo traffic without throwing my dad out of the side of the van.

I follow the path of least resistance, keeping the van in a relatively straight line so I'm not jolting my dad's aim too much. Out of the corner of my eye I see a mass of blonde hair as the small woman clambers into the passenger seat. She quickly pulls the seatbelt around herself and shakily pushes it into the clasp. I laugh at her behaviour. "That's right, Beautiful. You come and sit up front with me." Her terrified green eyes land on me and I bring my gaze back to the road before she screams at me.

"Does he have to do that?" Looks like keeping my eyes on the road isn't so high on her priority list any more.

I look over and she's staring unblinking toward my dad as he discharges another round at our pursuers, pulling himself back into the van to reload. "Dad just likes to shoot things." I hope that's reassuring.

Out of the corner of my eye I see her look sharply at me. "That's your dad?" There's a lot of emphasis on the word `that.' As if it's an unbelievable thing.

"Yep, that's the old man." I pull a dimpled smile across my face and spot a potential escape route. "Sharp left coming up, Pop."

He pulls himself back into the van without a word and forcefully closes the sliding door. My foot slams on the break and I throw the wheel over to the left, using my shoulders to push the large, heavy vehicle round into the small opening.

The right side of the van scrapes against the red brick of the buildings on either side of us. Sparks fly and my side mirror is torn off. Could have judged that turn a little better. I pull the wheel round and the van pulls into the middle of the opening. With my one mirror I watch as the Subaru's turn into the side street. The rear end of the first vehicle flicks out with the momentum, the back wing catching on the wall as he enters the opening. His back wing flies off the car and hits the windshield of the car behind him.

I take a sharp right turn, and they disappear from sight. My eyes scan around me looking for more sharp turns trying to lose them.

The street winds around to the left and I have no choice but to go in that direction. As soon as the van clears the tight turn, all I can see ahead is a T-junction. I need to pick a direction and fast; at this speed, it wont be long till I slam into the wall.

Flipping a coin in my head, I pick left. My rear end flicks out and bounces off the red brick wall and I have to jolt the wheel around so the van travels in the straight line.

"Shit!" My feet land heavily on both the foot break and the clutch to stop the van from ploughing head-on into a set of thick steel doors. We all jolt forward in the vehicle and Johnny ends up with his ass on the floor and my front bumper just touches the loading-bay doors. That's right; I managed to turn myself right into a loading bay. Looking in my mirror I notice that if I'd turned right I would have been back out on a highway. From now on I'm never flipping a coin for these things. Next time I draw straws.

The alley has opened out around us. There is space to turn around, but not the time.

The two black cars file down the alley behind us, and they pull into the loading bay. They screech to a stop and both of the passenger-side doors open. The windows roll down, all manner of firearms poking through the open space.

"Shit," I whisper to myself.

"You drove into a dead end?!" The strange blonde chick is screaming at me again. Didn't we have an agreement?

"Can we not say the `D' Word please?" I say calmly, my eyes scanning the small space around us. Do I have the space? Guess there's only one way to find out. My palm closes around the butt of my gun as I pull it from its holster and flick off the safety. "Everyone better hold onto something." Both the electric windows descend and I have to take a deep breath. Buffy is looking at me terrified; I may have been compromised, but she's an innocent civilian who just sort of got caught up in all this. "Get into the foot weld. Keep your head down. It's the safest place."

Her tongue comes out to wet her lips and for a moment I think she's going to refuse. She stares at me for a long moment before unclipping her seatbelt and slipping down into the passenger-side foot weld.

Placing my firearm into my lap for the moment my fingers reach over and press play on the vans CD player. Can't think about it, just have to do it. The heavy guitar riff of Taproot's "Poem" filters through the speakers. "Hold on!" I use my shoulder to force the van hard into reverse and push the accelerator down to the floor. The van gains enough speed and I pull hard on the parking break turning the wheel round to the right. The bulky van J-Turns in the small space and I throw it into first gear accelerating towards our pursuers.

Quickly I reach into my lap and point the muzzle of my gun out of the driver's side window. I discharge four shots in their direction while I accelerate towards them.

They dive away from their cars and the front of the van slams into the one blocking the exit, spinning it around. I hear the side of the van knock loudly as it slams into the side. As I exit the alley onto the busy street, my foot presses against the break as I bring the van round ninety degrees. This time I don't pull away at high speed. I bring the vehicle to a complete stop, shifting my position in my seat and point the muzzle of the gun out of the passenger side window. Aiming down the barrel I squeeze the trigger three times lodging the bullets in the fuel tank.

Just one spark from my bullet hitting the bodywork and the Subaru explodes, pieces flying everywhere. Try following me now. "Reload, Pop." I hand him my spent firearm and gently pull away from the carnage, heading for the hotel, and away from all of this chaos.

The key to the hotel room slides into the lock and I open the door. Mom is doing her usual trick. Wearing a trench into the carpet, wringing her hands.

She flies to me the moment I step into the door, engulfing me in a hug, pulling my face against her breasts. "I was so worried about you." This is so embarrassing. Her voice turns stern as she addresses my dad. "And you, Harry. You let her drive!" Her voice raises a few octaves at the end of her sentence so she's effectively screeching down my already sore ear.

I push against my mom and exit her embrace before they start. "She is old enough." Damn right I'm old enough, but I am not getting involved in this discussion. Not this time. I turn on my heels and head for my bedroom. They don't even notice me leave; seriously these kinds of arguments are like foreplay to these two.

My back lands heavily on the bed as each of my muscles begin to relax. Safe.

My door opens with a creak and closes again just as quickly. I don't open my eyes. I need these few moments to just unwind. The bed next to me depresses and I pull a lung full of air into my lungs. One eye cracks open to find Buffy looking down at me. I'd almost forgotten about her. "Hey," I say immediately feeling lame.

She smiles tucking a stray piece of hair behind her ear. "Hey." She looks around the small room for a few moments. "Are all of your days this exciting?"

I have to chuckle at that. "Most of them." Last time I had a nice quiet day was Thanksgiving.

"I thought my life was hectic."

I raise an eyebrow at her. "You dropped into the room though a green pulsating light and you think my life is exciting?"

"That was just a portal." Just a portal? Just a rip in space and time. "That kind of thing doesn't exactly happen every day."

"Right." I sit up, pushing my head to the side and cracking the muscles in my neck. She's fidgeting with her hands in her lap. "Spit it out."

"It's just..." She turns her gaze towards me "Why did you call me `B'?"

Why is that important? "At that moment, I couldn't remember your name." I answer honestly. "Just sort of slipped out."

"Oh." That almost sounds like disappointment. "It's just..." I cut her off by placing my lips on hers. I didn't even think about it. I didn't even know I wanted to do that, it just happened. Immediately her lips begin to move against mine. My fingers thread into her blonde tresses and I pull her closer against me. Her tongue pushes out and runs across my bottom lip.

I regain my senses and rip my lips from hers. "I'm sorry." Space, need space. I stand from the bed and lean against the wall. "I was acting on impulse; I didn't mean to do that."

"It's fine, Dana." She doesn't understand.

"No, no it's not." I run my fingers though my hair. "I'm trained not to act on impulse... but you just. Who are you?"

"I'm..." Her words are cut off as the air shifts around us. Picking up speed. What the fuck? "Looks like I have to go." She turns sad eyes toward me as the pulsing green light is back again, sucking her back through the barriers of space and time. I have no choice but to stand and watch as she is sucked into another dimension without answering any of my questions.

Just as quickly as the portal — as I now know it to be called — appeared, it is gone. And I'm left alone in the room.

My knees bend as my back slides down the wall. I hug my knees close to my chest.

How the Hell am I going to explain this to my dad?

Chapter 6: The New Girl

Author: Hera

Rated: PG-13

POV BUFFY

"Ouch!"

This time I land in the bushes. Head first. Someone up there must really hate me. I mean, come on! And I ruined my favorite jacket. This night just keeps getting better.

Oh, and I still don't know how to get back.

Great!

Where am I now? I don't even know my current location. I stand up and brush myself off. A plan would be great, but first I need to find out about this place. It could be a Hell Dimension for all I know. It definitely won't hurt to know where I am this time.

I look around. Nothing special. Just another small town, Sunnydale-style. Well, I hope not too Sunnydale-y, because Hellmouth is so not on my priorities list right now. But maybe I can find a witch to get me back.

Hey, maybe I'm in the alternative version of Sunnydale! In that case I'll find Will and she'll send me back!

Yeah, right, genius. This ain't Sunny -D and you know it.

I take in my surroundings and sigh. My inner Faith-voice is right. This town is not Sunnydale.

What? Don't tell me you don't have an inner voice that sounds like your former arch nemesis!

Well, I won't be able to gather much information if I just stay here all night. I guess I better get going... somewhere. Now where do I go?

I just stand here looking like a moron. Cemetery, maybe? Or high-school building. All evil things are down there. I should know all about it: burned down two schools, it's saying something.

Yeah, and that you and education don't really mix. Don't call you Blondie for nothing... Blondie.

Arghh!

Faith can really get under my skin even without being here. How does she do that?

Okay, actually it's me talking in Faith's husky voice in my head, but... She so would have said that if she was here. No, don't talk like that, Buffy. That last part sounded like she's dead. She's not dead. She's a fighter. I bet she kicked that thingy's ass and now is coming to my rescue.

And now I sound like a girl waiting for her prince to come and sweep her off her feet.

Whatever. I need to do something. Cemeteries? No, I'm in no condition to fight. After I fell through the portal (again), my landing wasn't exactly the best. I think I cracked a rib. Now where's that damned Slayer healing when you need it?

So cemeteries are out then. And no schools for me, either. So it leaves only... Local bars!

Why not? I can take a good look at people and hear some rumors that might help me.

And also have a beer and shake that ass off on the dance floor...

Shut up, Faith.

So here I am, standing in front of some kind of Mexican rodeo bar. I don't really feel like going in, but it was the nearest, and also the only decent bar, I could find. By decent I mean a place where all the Baddies come to. I still need info.

First thing I notice when I enter the bar, is its lack of clients. Like, seriously. There's no one here except for a black woman busy with a control panel, and Faith who's riding a mechanical bull and seemingly enjoying herself.

"Oh shit."

So there is another Faith. What's her name in this one? Jessie? Joe? Tru? I'd better ask her. But how do I approach her? `Hey, you don't know me, but I know you. Your name is Faith and no matter what you say, you are her. Now let's take a ride on that thing together, shall we?'

Whoa!

Where did that last part come from?

It's all Faith's doing. Just look at her. She's practically raping the poor thing. The way her body rises up and down in sync with the bull, the way she bites her lip and throws her head back a little... It's so...

Admit it girlfriend. You want me, and you want me bad.

I choose to ignore that annoying voice inside my head and just concentrate on Faith. I mean concentrate on how to talk to her. Maybe she knows something. Even if she doesn't have a clue about my Faith, I could always ask her to show me around or something, and oh my God did I just say "my" Faith?!

Told ya.

Whatever! What I meant to say was "Faith from my universe." So that doesn't count.

I need to be careful and not let my guard down. She could be an insane Faith who kills people because they look at her wrong. Or not Faith, but still insane. And if I want to make a good first impression, I need to check myself — which means I need a mirror.

I tear my eyes away from Faith's slender form and head to the restrooms. Time to make myself presentable enough so this Faith look-alike doesn't run off screaming.

I enter the filthy room and cringe. God, this place smells disgusting. Don't people in here take care of their hygiene at all? I don't think I can stand the stink any longer.

I turn and am about to leave when something catches my eye. A little pretty blonde teen with hazel eyes is staring at me... from the mirror.

Oh. My. Fucking. God.

I slowly come closer. Yes, that is definitely Buffy from high school. An innocent face, a lighter shade of hair... I'm back to being my 17-year-old self.

Jesus Christ. I need to get out of here. I need to find this Faith and ask her some questions, like, now.

I even talk like my young self now! Okay, don't panic. Just go find that girl already.

When I leave restroom, Faith is nowhere to be seen. This is bad. I don't even know her name, and I'm too tired to look for her. And who knows where she'll be tomorrow? What if it was her last day in this town?

I'm pulled out of my thoughts by a piercing cry that comes from the street. I forget about my injuries and run out of the bar, hurrying to the source of the sound. What I see makes me stop dead in my tracks.

Faith... no, a girl that looks like Faith, is kneeling on the ground and clutching her ribcage. She's crying and whispering "God, no. Please don't." over and over again. She looks so vulnerable and exposed... And she looks like Faith. Like it's Faith's big brown eyes that look at me, begging for help. Like it's Faith who is hurt and sobbing. The cause of her fear, a big blue-skinned demon, is slowly making its way towards her. It's smiling, if something as ugly as this could be called a smile. It `s enjoying itself way too much.

And it makes me angry beyond belief.

I can feel The Slayer in me growling. For a moment I just freeze, thinking of ways to defeat this ugly thing. And then all Hell breaks loose.

Fuck rational thinking. I lash out, punching in its nasty mug. It sails through the air and lands in a pile of wood, looking dazed. Then it sees me casually approaching with a smile. He snarls at me, but more out of fear than anything else.

Because I'm in a full Slayer mode. And I look really scary when I'm letting my inner Slayer free. Faith told me that once.

More than once, Twinkie. Cuz usually that scary smile was for me.

I'm going to kill that stupid thing for... well, for being an evil creature of darkness. Duh.

I walk up to the freakish demon and prepare myself for a good long fight. Except that there seemingly won't be any fight. That sneaky bastard already made his escape.

Wait. If that thing fled, then who's trying to tear my head off?

OW! That shit hurts!

Damn it! The demon didn't run away, he hid and then snuck up on me from behind. And now he's holding me in the air by my neck. Next thing I know I'm being tossed away. Ironically enough, I land on the same pile of wood where I threw that thing before. Not sparing me so much as a second glance, it strolls off to the girl who was stupid enough to stay here all this time. Oh hell no, you ugly moron. I'm Buffy Summers. And you are in so much trouble.

I shakily get up and run to the demon. I jump high in the air and tackle it to the ground. And then I just let loose.

I'm beating it up like it was the demon that caused it all. I beat him for me being stuck God-knows-where, for Faith who was left behind possibly bleeding to death, for the girl that was sitting there horrified... I even throw in a punch for the poor Haiti people. Yeah, I'm mad.

It stopped breathing long ago, but I stop only when I see that I'm beating pieces of bones and the ground. Breathing heavily, I try to stand and walk to the girl, but I fall on my ass as soon as I attempt to get on my feet. Guess I got carried away a little bit.

Or a lot.

My whole body is throbbing with aftershocks of being thrown and from the beating I gave. My head feel heavy and big. I decide not to try anything and just lay here for a day or a hundred. But somebody has other things in mind. Because I'm picked up and cradled in someone's arms.

A raspy voice whispers in my ear, soothing me.

"Don't worry, I got you. It's okay."

Big, soft eyes stare at me with concern.

"Faith..."

And the world goes black.

Gotcha B.

"Ugh..."

I'm never drinking again. It's all because of Faith. Damn her and her stupid drinking competitions. I am a tiny blonde, for God's sake! Of course I'm a lightweight. But no, she just had to...

Wait a minute...

I'm not in my room. And it's not Faith's room either. Oh God, just how much exactly did I drink?

I get up abruptly and immediately regret it. Apparently my head doesn't want me to get up, because now it's bringing me a lot of pain as a protest.

I fall back on pillows and inhale. A familiar scent fills my lungs. Something spicy and fresh. A little on the flowery side. Faith? No, that's not her. There's no danger that makes her smell so deliciously sexy. And that flowery scent? So not her. But it still smells nice, would be really good on her. I think I'm going to do a little shopping with Faith when I get back.

Get back...

Oh shit!

I jump out of bed and run to the bathroom, ignoring the pounding in my head. Yep. I'm still the 17-year-old version of Buffy. That means it wasn't just a nightmare, and I really did beat up a demon and then pass out.

It's great and all, but none of it answers my main question. Where the fuck am I?

"Hey, you're awake. I thought you'd be passed out for a week or so. You sure are strong for such a little thing."

Why does everybody have to point out my height?

I turn at the sound of a voice. Here she is: a smirk, crossed arms and confidence. But there's no leather. Actually, there's no pants whatsoever. She's wearing a skirt!

Talk about dreams coming true. I always wanted to see Faith in a dress. Well, I saw her once, but I was too wrapped up in my own world to notice anything besides me and Angel.

You were such an ass back then.

Not gonna argue about that. I have more important problems right now, though. For example, Faith's doppelganger, who's looking at me with an amused expression on her face.

"Hey. You're the one who brought me here?" I ask, looking back at her.

She smiles. "Um, yes. You were just... First you're full of fury, and then you were out like a light. I was so scared, but you were hurt, so I toughened up and carried you to my house. I hope I haven't done anything wrong?"

I chuckle. "Well, I guess it wouldn't have been better if you just left me there, so yeah, you did the right thing."

She grins. Cue the adorable dimples.

Adorable?

Whatever. I love dimples and I've always admired them on people, regardless of their sex. Probably because I don't have them. The girl's grin grows wider. I guess she likes me. In a totally friendly, non-sexy way. I smile. Time to turn on Buffy charm.

"So, I spent the night at your house, but I don't know your name."

"Oh, right. I'm Danielle. And you are..." She looks at me expectantly.

"Buffy. I'm Buffy."

She gets that look on her face when she doesn't believe me. Most people think this is a look of unwilling submission, but Faith uses it to show her confusion. I just met her, and I already know all of her facial expressions. That's kind of freaky.

"Buffy? Really?"

"Yes, really. Why are you people always picking on me? " I roll my eyes and pout a little.

Are you flirting with her?!

Crap.

She just lets out a little laugh.

"No, it's just... Okay, shutting up now. You saved my life, after all."

"Yeah, about that... I kind of..."

"Adrenaline rush. It happens," she interrupts me with a soft smile. "I understand. No questions."

I let out a relieved sigh. Thank God she's not as stubborn as Faith is. She would have pushed and pushed until she got some answers. Come to think about it, I would have done the same. This girl is just full of surprises.

Then again, maybe that's just her way of thanking me for saving her life. Either way it's great.

She looks like she's about to say something, but the growling of my stomach kind of beats her to it. She just laughs with that throaty laugh that I lo... like so much.

At least I got you to admit that you like it.

Yes, I do. There, you got me. But it doesn't mean anything.

Now that you're goo -oonee...

Imagine it, Faith likes Alicia Keys. I caught her singing that song when she was in a shower. She pleaded with me not to tell anybody, and I gave in. But now I know what a big softy she is, and if she doesn't behave, everyone will know too.

"You're spacing out here." Danielle's voice rips me out of my little world, and back to reality. "Look, I'll go cook us some breakfast, and you can clean up. A spare toothbrush is in the cabinet."

I nod, smiling. She smiles back and runs her hand through her gorgeous locks.

"Aright, I'll leave you to it." She turns and walks out of the bathroom. I sigh. She's so much like Faith and at the same time she's nothing like her. There's no danger that makes Faith so... well, Faith. I don't know how to explain this, but all the girls I've come across with never excited me so much as Faith does. It's something unique and unmistakably hers. That's what got me so drawn to her.

That was some speech, girlfriend.

I just smile and shake my head. I better be fast if I want to have a breakfast, because Faith or not, those girls can eat. My stomach growls at me, agreeing with my train of thoughts. I turn to look in the mirror and groan. Time to do some damage.

After we had breakfast, we went to a living room to watch some TV. Her house looks so much like mine back in Sunnydale I get the urge to laugh. I don't though because she probably already thinks I'm weird, so no need to add to it.

"So... Are you new here? I haven't seen you."

Ah, questions. I was wondering when it would start. So now my question of the day is do I tell her the truth and risk being handed over to clinic, or do I lie and don't get much needed info? A tough choice, that's for sure.

"Um, well... You see..."

"Are you one of those cool guys that save people from supernatural things?" Danielle asks me in a hushed tone, leaning closer to my face. I can feel her hot breath, and it gives me a chill.

"Well... I... Why are you so calm about this?" She just smirks and edges away.

"I've seen some monsters before. And a girl kicked their asses just like you did. Well," she looks away hesitantly, "maybe not so... you know, brutal, but she did anyway." I sheepishly smile.

"I just had a really bad day. Usually I'm not like that, so you're safe with me." She loudly sighs with relief and wipes away imaginary sweat from her forehead. I giggle in spite of myself. This girl sure is a comedian.

You like us with a bit of humor, don't cha?

One word: Angel.

Beat me this time, B.

"So," I begin, "When was the first time you saw a demon?"

"Oh, that's what the cool kids call it these days," she smirks. "Well, it was a week ago I think. He was this scary ugly thing. It was really bulky."

Bulky?

"Where was it? Where did you see it?"

"Geez, chill. What's with the rush?"

"That's how I ended up here," I stand up and pace. If this thing is in here, maybe I can beat some info out of it. "It opened some portal thingy, and now I travel from universe to universe. I've been in two already."

She lets out a low whistle. I turned to look at her. She has that awestruck expression. Probably thinks that my life is so great and interesting. I sigh.

"Look, however cool that sounds, my life sucks. I would give everything away to have a life like yours. School, friends," I look away, "Boyfriend. Do you have one, by the way?"

She wrinkles her nose, looking like she just remembered something. A second later we jump when there is an unexpected (for me, anyway) doorbell. Danielle looks at the door sideways and sighs.

"It's probably Gill," she smiles, "my boyfriend."

I glance at the door sideways and then back at her.

"So you have one."

"Yeah, he's..." Really annoying guy, if he likes to ring the doorbell so much. "I should probably..."

I nod at her.

"I'll go to the kitchen, see if there's anything to drink, if you don't mind. Oh, and if he asks, I'm your cousin from England."

"You aren't British enough." She smirks at me.

"Whatever, just answer the door." Bratty reply, I know, but I was smiling when I said it, so I guess we're cool.

"I won't be long." She gets up and goes to the door. The bell was ringing almost nonstop now. The guy has the patience of a... well, Faith. She's all short-tempered like that. And possessive.

But Danielle is so different, it's almost scary. She's soft and can be shy. And she's a cheerleader. Come on! Faith as a cheerleader? Sure, she'd fuck one, but actually being one? So not her.

Hmm... Faith doing back flips in a miniskirt...

With a visual like that, no wonder I get ya hot.

I'm so kicking her ass when I get home.

You know, that Faith-the-narrator thing is starting to bug me big time. But I just can't help it!

Back in Cleveland, my inner Faith-voice and I had a fight. In my head. Yeah, I know — crazy. After that I didn't talk to real Faith for a week. She was so worried that she had done something wrong, she even went to Willow for help. And she always did that cute frown whenever I was around, which was just adorable. And then...

Anyway, my point is (yes I do have a point) that this annoying Faith voice in my head? It just shows me how little time I spend with my sister-Slayer. I miss her so much I'm making up conversations with her so it'll seem like I'm with her. Like we talk and laugh and hang out. Which we don't. We're even more distant now than in Sunnydale, and I have no clue why. Maybe it's my fault. I drove her away with my cold replies, and now, when I actually want to be her... friend, she doesn't believe me.

Maybe. But talking to real people in your head doesn't solve the problem. I mean, that's just crazy. That's way more than Insanity.

Looking for the L-word here?

No! I just miss the way we used to be! We're the Chosen Two, destiny and stuff. Aren't we supposed to be together?

Like, in a totally platonic "best buds" way. No girl-on-girl fantasies here, no sir. I mean ma'am.

So, we are the only Originals left. It was supposed to draw us closer to each other, right? We have to have some sort of... connection.

Down-low tickle, girlfriend.

I close my eyes and there she is, victoriously grinning at me. Yep. My mental image of Faith is always with me.

"Zoning out again!"

Wha... Where?!

Danielle giggles (now I know how Faith's giggles sound, yay) and nudges me with her elbow. "Bet he's really special if you daydream about him so often."

I just stare at her for a moment.

"How did you... I mean, why would you assume I..."

"Assume my ass," she laughs. "Your eyes get all dreamy when you think about your honey. Tell me about him."

"Um, well," I give her a weak smile. "There's no one to tell about."

"Oh come on, it's obvious! Okay, if you want, I'll start with the sharing. Gill," she lovingly looks in her boyfriend's direction. He turns his attention from the pool game to Danielle and goofily grins. "He was a real nerd once upon a time. But he came here and now he's the coolest guy around. He's caring, and loving, and just plain... different."

"Who would've thought," I muttered. Danielle's guy is the strangest boy I've ever met. Back at Danielle's, after he finally entered, he stared at me with a dumbstruck expression for a good five minutes. Then he tried to be all badass and stuff. I can see right through his act, but Danielle seems to be happy and in love. And it's none of my business, actually. Oh, and I was kinda grossed out when they kissed. He's so not her type.

Now how would I even know what her type is?

Little, blonde, bitchy. Ring any bells?

Maybe, for Faith. At least I hope so. There, I said it. I want me to be Faith's type so she can be my Prince Charming. Princess. Whatever.

Anyway, after we shook hands and exchanged pleasantries, we decided to go to the club Danielle works at (and rapes the mechanical bull when she's off her shift). Now it's 11 p.m., and there's a crowd of teenage boys and girls drinking, dancing, and just having fun. But fun is not what I'm after.

"Danielle," I turn so I'm facing her. "Can you show me the place where you've seen that bulky demon?"

"Sure, let me grab my jacket and we'll head out."

Jacket. That pale blue thing. It's not even leather. Okay, I need to stop comparing them to each other, that's just wrong.

We exit the crowded bar and go out into the fresh summer air. She shows the way, and we move towards the road.

"So you didn't tell me about him."

"Actually," I glance in her direction and glue my eyes to the road, "there is no boy. And no honey."

She gets that disbelieving expression, but encourages me to go on, nodding her head. I breathe deeply.

"There is a girl. And I'm not sure if I have feelings for her at all. Well, now I'm almost positive, but I don't know how deep they are. Maybe I'm misunderstanding the whole thing. But I..."

"... always zone out whenever you think about her."

"Well... Yeah."

She chuckles.

"Buffy, I think I know what kind of feelings you have. It's called love. Look it up in the dictionary and there will be a picture of you and your girl smooching."

At least she has Faith's humor. Oh joy.

"I don't think we'll be making with the smooches anytime soon. We have a history that isn't pretty. We'll probably kill each other before we get to the good part. And I do mean kill as in `kill.' We tried that before."

She just snorts. What a great answer.

"It's just an excuse."

Um, what?

"What?"

"You heard me. You're afraid. Now don't give me that look, it's my opinion, that's all."

"Yeah well, you're wrong!"

She holds up her hands in surrender, looking afraid and amused at the same time.

"Don't kill the messenger. All I'm saying is maybe you just need to come out of that denial closet? I'm sure that girl likes you just as much as you do."

But what if she doesn't? What if that isn't enough? Or maybe I'm just another notch for her?

There `s always been this chemistry, I can't deny that. But lust and love aren't the same things. If I open up to her and she just uses me, I don't think I could take it.

"It's normal to be afraid." Daniell's soft, husky voice pulls me out of my thoughts. "But if you don't try it, you'll never know what could have been. It'll be okay, Buffy. Don't get so upset."

I don't even realize I'm crying until I'm pulled into a strong embrace. Guess all the stress caught up with me. I sob, shaking, while Danielle strokes my back and whispers soothing things in my ear.

"What... *sob* what if... she *sob* doesn't like *sob* me?" I manage to get through tears.

"Then she's an idiot," she says softly. I look up to see her staring back at me with such intensity... She looks so much like Faith right then. I just can't hold back.

I kiss her, gently at first. She's probably too shocked to respond, but she allows me to deepen the kiss. Things quickly grow passionate, and I know I have to stop it before we do something stupid. Aside from what we've already done.

I end the kiss as gently as it started. She looks a little dazed when I slowly pull away from her. So cute.

"I'm sorry." I say quietly, not sounding sorry at all. "We probably should go on with the mission."

She still hasn't recovered from what just happened. Her eyes open to look at me, but widen in fear.

"I think your mission came to you first."

I swirled around to find the demon looking at me with something close to curiosity.

"Slayer."

"Run as fast as you can." I whisper to Danielle, not taking my eyes off of him. He tilts his head to the side like a puppy. A very ugly and demon-like puppy.

"But..."

"Danielle, no buts. Run. I'll handle this on my own." She looks like she wanted to say something, but then thought better of that.

"Bye, Buffy. And thanks." I just nod, getting ready to strike if the demon chases after her. But it just stand there, not taking his gaze from me as Danielle runs further and further away.

"What do you want?" My tired voice sounds so hollow in the alley. "Why are you doing this?"

"I don't want to hurt you. This is to show."

I'm so fed up with these cryptic lines. Doesn't this thing have something else to babble about?

"Show. Okay. What exactly?" The demon clearly doesn't like my lack of patience. Because the next thing I know, I'm being scooted up and thrown into the wall, where a shiny portal awaits.

"You'll know soon enough."

I hope this portal takes me back to Faith, or I'll seriously kick some demon's ass.

I swear that I can go on forever again

Please let me know that my one bad day will end

I will go down as your lover, your friend

Give me your lips and with one kiss we begin

Are you afraid of being alone

Cause I am, I'm lost without you

Are you afraid of leaving tonight

Cause I am, I'm lost without you

I'll leave my room open till sunrise for you

I'll keep my eyes patiently focused on you

Where are you now I can hear footsteps, I'm dreaming

And if you will, keep me from waking to believe this

Are you afraid of being alone

Cause I am, I'm lost without you

Are you afraid of leaving tonight

Cause I am, I'm lost without you

Are you afraid of being alone

Cause I am, I'm lost without you

Are you afraid of leaving tonight

Cause I am, I'm lost without you

Are you afraid of being alone

Cause I am, I'm lost without you

Are you afraid of leaving tonight

Cause I am, I'm lost without you

I'm lost without you

I'm lost without you

I'm lost without you

I'm lost without you

I'm lost without you

Blink 182 — I'm Lost Without you

Chapter 7: Disseverance

Author: Anguissette

Rated: R

Buffy POV

I don't remember much of that moment. I mean, I couldn't remember much aside from the grating pavement tearing at my clothes and skin as I slid across the rain-slick road and partially off the shoulder, but that's a little hard to miss. I can still feel the heavy scent of wet earth filling my head, drifting into my mouth and nose until it settles into my lungs. There's something different about it. Something stale in comparison to the fresh sweetness of the soaked earth of Sunnydale. How long have I been lying here? I remember falling out of that damn portal...again. I remember lights-headlights from a car, and I remember something. I remember...her face, and then there was darkness. Maybe I'm being a bit melodramatic, but hey, classic Buffy Summers, right? Great, and to further comfort myself, I'm now referring to myself in the third person. Maybe I was hit harder than I thought.

Regardless, I've got to get up. I've got to make sure the people who hit me are alright. It's a slayer's duty to protect and serve the innocent, right? Plus, I wouldn't want "dereliction of duty" stamped on my slayer-profile. That'd just look bad. It would never happen though, especially since I've got this unforgiving martyr syndrome anyway. I guess it doesn't matter how many times this slayer's been impaled, hit, drugged, blown-up, poisoned, or burned. Oh, and since we're doing all this hindsight-y stuff, I'll just add "run over" to the list.

As I bend my wrist to push myself up, the pain shoots straight up my arm and disperses throughout the right of my rib cage. Great, I don't even want to know how much of me is broken right now. If I'm hesitant to move any of my lower extremities, it's with good reason. There's a dull and steady throb in my left thigh, and my right leg is a bit tingly, which is never good. Let's try this again.

I prop myself up with my forearm, and I can feel the gravel begin to bite at my skin again. Closing my eyes, I can't help but let out a frustrated groan. Not because of the pain, but because this is the second outfit I've had to retire this week. Can't a girl ever get a break?

I manage to cringe my way through the process, trying to ignore the nagging pain throughout my body, and as I lift my unsteady gaze, I'm met with a black, empty road.

But the car...the car that was just here... The voice in my head echoes, and I can't tell if I'm talking aloud or just in a really loud, deep thought. Maybe both? I press a palm to my head and suddenly pull it back in alarm when I feel a sticky wetness. My hand swims in front of me for a moment before it comes into focus. No blood, just mud. I scoff, "`cause that's even better. "

As I move closer to where I was conveniently dropped from the portal, I can see tire marks veering off sharply to the left and in that moment my throat tightens. I think I know where that car disappeared to. My legs can only carry me so quickly, but I move as fast as I can. Following the tracks to the shredded guard rail on the side of the road, I can see where the shoulder abruptly ends in a sudden drop. It isn't until I near the ledge that I realize exactly how far of a drop this actually is. I steady myself as I gaze over the edge, trying not to look directly at the pile of metal that was once an SUV. I don't want to see bodies; I don't need to see bodies. I kill undead things. Evil things. Most of the time they're usually undead evil things, which don't include humans. Oh, god. I've got to get to the nearest phone and call for help. I don't know how long it'll be `til someone drives past.

I take one last look down the embankment, but before I turn away, my attention is brought to one of the passengers sprawled halfway out of the vehicle. My heart seems to stop as her name escapes my lips in nothing more than a strained whisper, "Faith."

In that moment, my body is flooded in adrenaline, and before I know it, I'm halfway down the steep cliff. Rocks and loose, wet earth give way beneath my stumbling feet. If there was any throbbing in my legs before, I couldn't feel it now. They felt strong and light, like they should be frail. But with a steady power, they carried me down toward her. I know it's clichИ to say it seemed as though time slowed, but that's exactly what it felt like. The only sound in the atmosphere was my slow and steady breathing, surrounding me, filling my head. My vision was tunneling through a blurred vortex and I had no concept of distance, no concept of depth. I just did what every fiber of my being was screaming for me to do: protect Faith.

My legs nearly gave way as I reached what level ground there was. I didn't stop, I couldn't. When I reached her, I fell to my knees. The jolt shot up through my body, slightly wiping the vortex from my vision, and as the sudden rush of adrenaline left, the atmosphere seemed to crash back around me. "Oh, god," I placed my hand on the side of her jaw to cradle her face. Her skin was wet and cool to the touch, but there was underlying heat. I could feel her life slowly settling into the core of her body, trying to keep her vital organs functioning.

"Faith, can you hear me? It's B." I tried to blink the tears away, but they kept coming. I slid my other hand under her head. "You're going to be okay, Faith. You're going to be fine." I glanced up at the embankment then back down to her, "we're gonna get you out of here."

She didn't stir, didn't budge an inch, but there was a low, barely audible groan that escaped her. "B...?"

Unflinching and still, I only stared at her, and in that passing moment a sudden wave of assurance crashed over me. She is Faith. This can't be another doppelganger. There was only a moment of hesitation before I scrambled to my feet. My legs were aching again, and my jeans were soaked, making climbing up the embankment that much harder, but I was determined. I wasn't sure what damage was done to my body, but there'd always be time to find out later. I had my priorities now.

It seemed like nearly a lifetime before I managed to claw my way up the sloughing earth and foliage. My fingers gripped the solid road as I pulled myself up over the ledge. My arm and legs protested, the searing pain shooting through my limbs again, and I let out a stifled cry. I rolled onto my back, clearing myself from the ledge, and in that moment staring up at the sky, I felt the pain finalizing, settling into every nerve, every cell. I felt like I was going to die...again. I rolled once more, this time to my stomach, and with a bit of struggle, ineptly pushed myself up to my feet. My gaze slowly shifted to the slick, obsidian road now painted in a myriad of flashing blues, reds and whites. I thoughtlessly blinked, not really comprehending what was happening. How long was I down there? Tearing my gaze away from the hypnotic lights, I shifted my focus over my shoulder to another car. There was a large tree planted solidly in what would be the middle of the car if it wasn't collapsed like an accordion. The front of the car was nearly folded around the tree, maybe only a few more feet closer and the headlights would be touching one another. Looking at the wreckage, I couldn't help but shudder.

I could see two, maybe three, bodies slumped over in their seats. The driver had already been pulled from the wreckage and onto a gurney. As they pulled a sheet up over her body, I met that lifeless gaze. Immediately, I felt a heavy chill settle through my body. There was something about those eyes that unnerved me entirely. From what I could see, she was dead. It gave me the willies just thinking about it, but there was something so very alive about those eyes. It was like she was looking at me, seeing me. Almost watching me.

"Miles, we've got one over here." I turned toward the voice to see the source on her way toward me. She seemed a little taller than me, but the haze in my head the only thing I knew for certain was that she was female. I shook my head in hopes of clearing the clouding sensation. I must have been hit harder than I thought.

I felt her hand lightly graze my shoulder as she spoke, "ma'am, I'm Keri, can you tell me your name?" Her voice wasn't deep, but it wasn't shrill either. It was calming, almost consoling to listen to. I couldn't help but close my eyes, and as I did, I was met with the driver's unnerving gaze again.

"Ma'am, can you understand me?"

With my eyes still closed, I cringed, and then slowly opened them. "Buffy," I looked up at her, "my name is Buffy. There are other people down the embankment. They need help. " The panic unexpectedly increased in my voice, "she needs help!"

The woman smiled at me then pulled her hand from my shoulder. "Okay, Buffy," she looked over at who I assumed to be her partner then back at me, "I need you to follow me over to the ambulance. Can you do that?"

Furrowing my brow, I only nodded. It's all I could do as the world seemed to tilt around me. Given the current situation and the fact that I pretty much collided head on with a speeding car, the only wonder was that it took this long for my head to start spinning. I took a step toward the ambulance and nearly lost my footing. Luckily, Keri's arm shot out around me before I lost it completely.

"Alright, Buffy, on second thought, I need you to stay put. We're going to get a stretcher out here for you." The paramedic shifted and signaled for her partner and one of the police officers to roll out a stretcher from the back of the ambulance. As she turned back to me, Keri pulled her arm from around my body. "You okay to stand, or do you need to sit?"

I tried to shrug her off of me, but failed. "I'm fine," I insisted, a little frustrated. "Are you not listening to me? There are other people you should be worrying about besides me! There are at least three more down that cliff that are dying!" At that last word, I couldn't help but think about Faith down there in the mangled wreck, the life draining from her by the second. I nearly lost it, and my next words came out in a choked sob, "Faith is dying down there!" This time I managed to push her off of me, and when our eyes met, there was only sympathy in hers. I can only imagine the anger and desperation she saw in mine. I could feel the aggravation, hopelessness and fear building, threatening to break from my chest despite my attempts to choke them back. If Faith died...I couldn't even think about it. I didn't want to think about it.

My thoughts carried me back to that rooftop, back to that moment where I nearly killed her. I remember the shock in those dark eyes as I shoved the blade into her stomach, the shock that quickly turned into something somber, something that whispered `I told you she'd do it.' And then she flashed me that grin, that mask she used all too well. I desperately tried to shake the thought from my head, but it just wouldn't work.

I felt my heart drop as I looked at Keri, "if anything happens to Faith..." My vision started to blur again, my peripherals darkening, and the dull ache in my head began to throb. This time I dropped to my knees in order to shorten the fall if I passed out. This was a feeling I knew all too well to mistake for something else, and the last thing I needed was another concussion.

As my vision began to tunnel, I felt the pain begin to fade again. I couldn't feel the cold. I couldn't feel the ground beneath me. All I knew was that I was comfortable in the darkness, and somewhere in the distance, I could hear Faith's chuckle. I felt my brow furrow in confusion as I heard her laugh again. This time it was closer. As I looked up, I saw her standing above me, and as she kneeling down next to my head, I felt her lips against my ear. It was then that her words from that night hit me, those six words that haunted me for what seemed like an eternity.

"You did it, you killed me."

And in that moment, if I could have sobbed, I would have.

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I let out a low groan as I tossed the covers over my face. "Five more minutes," I turned to my side, pressing my face against the pillow, "just...five...more..." My eyes immediately shot open as a second, much louder chime broke through my comfortable haze of a sleep. Bells?

Unmoving, I scanned the stone-walled room with my eyes. The first thing that caught my attention was a simple wooden bedside table decorated with only a Bible and an equally simple crucifix. I shut my eyes and let out another low groan, "Oh, you have got to be kidding me. I've died...again? Jesus, gimme a break already!"

Not even a second after my protest, there was the unmistakable sound of someone awkwardly clearing their throat. My eyes popped back open and I cautiously lifted my head from the pillow to see who exactly had caught me in all my blasphemous glory. I could already make out the black and white cloth before I had even focused on the person now standing at the foot of my bed. Just my luck. A nun.

I let out an inward sigh of failure and questioned exactly why irony always had to be so cruel? Maybe it was just me. I mean, I am the Chosen One after all. Maybe I'm just as entitled to bad luck, tragic romances, and eternal loneliness as I am being the Slayer? Like I said, lucky me.

I sat up, pulling the sheets around my waist as I fumbled with my apology, "I'm, um, sorry. I didn't mean..."

The sister merely shook her head, her lips forming a soft, ancient smile, "Do not worry, my dear. You have been through much this week. I'll not hold it against you."

Giving her a sheepish smile, I pulled the sheets up closer around me. "Thank you."

"Now, I'm going to inform Dr. Garritson that you're up and well." She turned, slowly lifting the veils of cloth that separated this room from whatever lay beyond, "I'll be right back, child."

Leaning back against the headboard, I exhaled as I ran through my current course of events. "So, as it stands right now, I've been tossed into a portal by some demon only to get one of the greatest beat-downs of my life, by a hunk of metal on wheels no less. I've barely any money," I cringed, "only one outfit, and I've got no extra green portals handy."

How long have I been here?

I turned my head toward the row of vacant beds to my left. There was only cool, natural light pouring from windows high above each headboard and onto the off-white bedding. That combined with the mild chill in the air created an odd, sort of wistful atmosphere. I had to get out of this place.

"It's really not that bad."

Slightly startled, I turned to see a much younger sister step into the room, and I couldn't help but look confused. She couldn't be any older than about twenty-five years old or so. Yeah, that's way too young to tie yourself down if you ask me, especially to a place like this. I couldn't even imagine this lifestyle to be anything but monotonous. Completely and utterly mind-numbingly dull. Oh well, her grave, not mine.

It was safe to assume that whatever expression I had on my face was currently mirroring my inner thoughts, because she timidly shifted her gaze toward the ground before she spoke. "I'm Sister Liana. Sister Mag sent me to answer any questions you may have. She sends her apologies that she couldn't make it back herself. I'm afraid she's going to be tied up with the neighboring hospital faculty."

I dusted a stray feather that settled on my arm. "So, what is this place then, some hybrid convent or something?"

She smiled, "I guess you could say that." She walked to the side of my bed and motioned to the foot of it. "May I?"

"Oh, yes, of course." I pulled my legs up into my chest.

The sister sat, briefly smoothing the gown down the tops of her thighs before placing her hands in her lap. "Thank you. I'll try my best not to bore you with the details too much."

"I really don't mind, I've been known to have selective hearing anyway."

She just smiled and continued, "The cathedral itself was built back in the 15th century, but wasn't renovated into a convent until about 150 years ago. The addition of the hospital is fairly new." She paused in thought, "it has only been present for maybe one-third of that time."

I didn't even bother with the math. High school taught me that I could get away with using context and key words in sentences. `Fairly new' passed on the message easily enough, and I couldn't help but smile in triumph. See, this blonde isn't as dense as everyone thinks she is. Giles would be so proud.

She continued, completely oblivious to how pleased I was with myself, "so, yes, you could say it's somewhat of a hybrid. Most of the recovering or homeless who don't require any medical services are sent to these quarters to create room for incoming patients. This cathedral is very large, but it's not nearly as large as a fully functioning hospital. But, we must make the most out of the resources given to us."

"So, I'm assuming that's why I've been placed here?"

Sister Liana directed her attention to me, her golden-honey eyes trying desperately to read mine. "Buffy, where is your family?"

It was an understatement to say that her sudden seriousness caught me off guard, and the boring intensity from her gaze was too much. I averted my eyes to the dull slabs of stacked stone forming the walls.

"My mother is dead," at the mention of my mother, my heart felt like it imploded in my chest, "my father was never a part of my life, and my sister doesn't live anywhere close to here." I dared a glance back up at Sister Liana, and was met with somber compassion this time.

"I'm so sorry. I didn't realize..."

I reassured her, "It's fine, really."

"Well, I should leave you be." Sister Liana stood, straightening the black and white cloth again. "We placed your belongings in the box under your bed. There are showers down the hallway on your left outside this room. We also have a moderate selection of donated clothing if need be."

I grimaced.

Liana let out a low chuckle. "Don't worry, they've all been thoroughly cleaned and disinfected for your safety." She made her way toward the veiling cloth and turned to regard me, "if you have any further questions, please, do not hesitate to ask. Any of the sisters will be more than pleased to help you, Buffy."

I nodded, regarding her back. "I appreciate it."

With nothing left to say, I watched as she turned, parted the veil, and disappeared behind the coverings.

Reclining against the headboard, I closed my eyes, listening to the breeze send the sheets in a calm flutter. I really could lie here all day, but deciding against it, I forced myself to sit up.

I swiveled my legs off the bed, letting my bare feet brush against the cool stone floor. All this dull grey stone was going to get to me, I could feel it. Slowly, I pushed myself off of the bed. I wasn't sure how my legs would take to walking after a few days of inactivity, but I'm sure it wouldn't be that bad. Anyway, first things first, this slayer was in desperate need of a shower.

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It's amazing how a simple thing like a nice hot shower can make or break your day. I can't really remember the last time I had one I enjoyed so thoroughly. And as bad as that sounds, I don't care, because I am so on top of my game today. I'll admit, the thought of rummaging through the `donation room' seemed a little beneath me, but I never realized how much you could salvage from donated clothing. Sure, some of the clothes smelled like they've been marinating in a closet full of mothballs for years, but it was nothing that a few washes and lots of detergent couldn't fix. I was even lucky enough to discover an unopened set of make-up. So it's some brand I've never even heard of and the majority of the colors are fit for a clown, but am I going to complain? No. All I need is a little eyeliner and some lip gloss and this Summers is good to go. Sometimes `simple' really is better.

I checked my reflection in the mirror. Sure, I would have been pushing my luck if I'd been intent on finding a flat-iron up for grabs along with everything else, so, I spared myself the false hope. Besides, a little wave never hurt anyone. I'll probably just settle for putting my hair up anyway.

I let my eyes fall to the black soft-shell jacket I'd recovered. It was a little tight for a jacket, but it fit in all the right places, which probably worked out for the better. Underneath, I'd kept my white tank top on, and honestly, my dark denim bootcut jeans may have looked better now than they did before the accident. Lucky for me, ripped jeans are still in style. On top of that, I didn't even have to pay extra for the damage. I just had to dance with some asphalt for a few yards. My boots are strictly off topic as of now though. It's a sensitive subject. Let's just say I had to settle for some work boots.

As I stepped back to check my outfit in its entirety, I couldn't help but notice how much this style reminded me of Faith's. I knitted my brows together, contemplating my next move. The thought that this girl involved in the accident could very well be Faith kept cycling through my mind. What if it was her? I know the other `Faiths' that I've encountered weren't her, but this one was different. This one knew who I was. She knew my name! And the fact that she could be lying completely alone somewhere in some hospital bed was just wracking my nerves. I wouldn't let that happen to her. Not again. I needed to go. I needed to see for myself if Faith Lehane was somewhere in this town.

Turning on my heel, I spun around, nearly colliding with Sister Mag. Caught by surprise and off-guard, I nearly wailed on the creeper-of-a-nun. Luckily for her, I've got slayer-like reflexes to stop me from slugging people who like to pop out of shadows. Who does that? Honestly?

She just stood there, not even so much as a flinch crossed her expression. Then she suddenly smiled in a way that looked like it hurt her to do it. "Where are you going child?"

I swallowed. Uh, you mean aside from anywhere as long as it's away from you? I gave her a brief smile, trying to ignore the thoughts in my head, "I was just heading out. Needed to get some fresh air, stretch my legs. You know..."

"Oh?" She didn't look amused.

What else was I supposed to say? Nothing came to mind, so I just stared at her for what seemed like an eternity as she stared right back. Yeah, like I said, creeper. When it became outright uncomfortable, I finally looked away, finding relief in those familiar dull slabs of stone again. I cleared my throat hoping to ease the rapidly building awkward silence, "I'm probably gonna go to the market, look around town, mingle..." I glanced up, offering a sheepish smile, "...or something."

Sister Mag just continued to stare at me. I don't even think she blinked. If I didn't know any better, I'd say she'd fallen asleep in the very spot she stood, with the exception of her eyes being open. Okay, this lady was total creepage. Seriously.

As I went to walk past her, she turned, stopping me with her gaze. "Just watch yourself, Buffy. Many things may not be as they seem."

I stopped, wondering what the hell she was talking about.

She paused for a moment as if remembering something, "oh, yes, and there's a visitor for you." And with that, she turned, and slowly shuffled out of the room.

That woman was nothing short of odd.

Moments after Sister Mag left, another figure stepped into the room, boots thudding softly against the rug covered stone. As I looked up, my hands immediately went to my mouth, stifling a cry.

"Hiya, B."

I didn't hesitate for a moment longer as I walked straight into Faith's arms. Wrapping my own tightly around her, I felt my eyes swell with so many emotions, "I...I thought you were gone." The tears spilled unhindered, and I buried my face into her shirt, inhaling her scent deep into my lungs. "Faith, I thought I lost you." My words came out strained, meant for myself, but I knew she heard anyway.

Her hand gently went to the back of my head as she pulled me further into her. "Aw, c'mon, don't cry, B. I'm right here. I ain't goin' anywhere." We stood embracing for a while, neither one of us really saying anything.

Wiping my tears away, I pulled back, giving her arm a hard and deserved swat, "where the hell were you?"

Feigning hurt, she laughed, "don't ruin the moment, Buffy, it's not every day I get a hot chick to cry over me."

The amount of relief I felt knowing she was fine and alive and with me was absurd, and I let out a brief laugh.

A pout settled on my lips as I playfully threatened to swat at her again. "You didn't answer my question."

"Eh," Faith shrugged as she gave me a grin, her dimples coming into full view, "I've been around. I've been scopin' the place out. Mainly trying to figure out where the hell we are and how the hell we're getting' out."

I pulled away from Faith and made my way to the edge of my bed, motioning for her to join me. "You have any luck?"

"Not yet," she moved toward the other side of the bed, letting herself fall onto it, "but honestly, I'm just glad we've managed to land in a place together." She grinned at me, "two slayers are better than one, anyway. I mean," Faith crossed her legs as she reclined back, "with my good looks and brawn, and your brain we're pretty much unstoppable, B."

I'm not sure how long we were lying there talking, reminiscing and swapping stories about our portal travels. It was easily hours, and by the end my eyes slowly began to drift shut despite my best attempts to keep them open. Moments later and it was no use. Chilled and exhausted, I moved closer into Faith trying to absorb as much heat as possible. As I pushed myself against her, I felt her lips lightly press against my forehead, kissing me. She was here, safe with me, and that's all the reassurance I needed to rest peacefully.

I felt the mattress shift under me, and before she could get up my hand shot out to tug Faith back into bed. "Stay." The word slid from my mouth, barely audible as I nestled into the comfort of my sister-slayer.

Before I slipped into sleep, I felt her lay her arm around my waist, settling her nose and lips onto the top of my head as she exhaled.

"That one's up to you, B."

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Slowly, I managed to open my eyes, and I could only stare at the now vacant space in front of me as the disappointment slowly set in. I let out a moan as I rolled onto my stomach where Faith had been just hours ago, but as I inhaled, that familiar scent filled my head. Immediately, my eyes shot wide open, and I couldn't help but draw in her smell again.

She had been here.

Looking up at the window, the day had already begun to fade, and the sky was shifting. Charcoal-grey clouds were sliding in place of once blue skies, and you could hear the thunder slowly progressing toward town.

I rolled, sitting upright in bed and looked around the room for any signs that Faith had been here with me. There wasn't a single thing. Frustrated, I grabbed the nearest thing and tossed it across the room, not caring if it would break. What the hell was going on here? I quickly jumped out of bed, grabbing for my jacket and shoes. Well, I wasn't about to wait around for answers.

Three steps out of the convent's dormitory and I pulled my jacket's zipper up to the middle of my chest to shield me from the night. If I'd know it would be this cold out, I would have went for layers. Sure, Cleveland wasn't the warmest place either, but there was a chill in the air here that settled deep into your bones. Maybe I'm overacting, or maybe I just missing good ol' sunny California right now. Regardless, I shoved my hands into my jacket pockets and went onward down the pathway. If I remembered correctly, this outdoor corridor should take me straight to the hospital entrance. I swear this place was initially built as a maze. Each room had five other rooms connecting to it, and each one of those had five more. Someone obviously had a sick sense of humor.

To my right there were large spaces in the walls filled with equally large statues of what I imagined to be saints. These things had to be at least three feet taller than me. I stared up, looking into those stoic faces. Why couldn't they ever make these things look even remotely happy? It'd at least lessen the `I feel like I'm in a horror movie' feeling. I shuddered, from the cold, or those eyes, I wasn't sure.

There was the sound of soft shuffling of cloth; it was barely even audible, even to me. Pressing myself into the shadows, I quickly turned to watch three nuns with their heads bowed in silence make their way down the corridor past me. I kept watching in case they attempted to regard me, but they didn't, they just ignored me. Not that I'd minded. The fewer encounters I had in this place, the better. When they had passed through the dormitory doors, I pulled myself from hiding and continued toward the hospital.

To my left, there were spacious arched openings that looked down toward the convent's garden on the first floor. I'll admit, even for an eerie place, this was quickly becoming my favorite area. The dark grey skies paired with the range of deeply saturated greens and the light beige-grey of this place was just beautiful. Faith would love it.

As I neared the huge double-doors, I tried to get a peek inside. Apparently, the windows were strategically placed to only allow light in or something. If you weren't at least six feet tall, there was no way you'd see anything in or out. I sighed in frustration, grumbling to myself. Why is everything so large in this place? Are they trying to give me a Napoleon complex or something? If so, it's working.

With a bit of effort, I pressed one of the large wooden doors open and glanced inside. My jaw immediately dropped. This place was HUGE. It was like I stepped into a foyer of a renowned theatre or something. Wow, two big words in one sentence. I told you I was on top of my game today.

I'd take the time to appreciate the details, but there was just too much, and I was on a mission.

Still reeling a bit from the vastness of this place, I walked up to what I assumed to be some sort of receptionist's desk.

Leaning, I looked over at the busy woman behind the counter. "Excuse me?"

Her hand immediately went out, silently hushing me.

I just stared at her for a second, the thoughts in my head even pausing. Well, that was rude. Since I was in a good mood today, I was letting it slide this time. She should consider herself lucky.

A few more seconds passed, and I decided to press on, "I'm just looking for my friend," I swallowed, "her name is Faith. Faith Lehane. We were both in an acci..."

"She's not here. Nobody by that name ever even came in. I'm sorry." The woman didn't even look up from the computer in front of her.

I scoffed, "Okay, well could you check to make sure or something? Because I'm pretty sure she'd be he..."

"Trust me. Photographic memory and I deal with the patient paperwork." She finally looked up, the cool blue hue of the computer screen radiating across her aged face. She paused, suddenly off in thought, "and you're Buffy, right?"

I could only nod. That was oddly impressive, even if she was a bitch.

"Well, Buffy, your friend, Faith, isn't here." Before I could get a word out she interrupted me, "and yes, I'm positive."

I raised an eyebrow before mumbling to myself, "photographic memory, and psychic. Who'd have thought?" I thanked her before I left the desk. I made my way out the hospital and away from the cathedral completely. I had to get out of there.

I chose one of the streets that looked the least desolate and started walking. Ok, so no record of Faith at the hospital. That didn't tell me whether or not she was here though. Maybe she was taken to a different hospital, or a trauma center? Maybe she just took off for a bit? Or maybe I'm just losing my mind. My head was reeling with all the possibilities.

I was going through the different scenarios when I passed by a small local diner. I didn't even think twice about it until my stomach let out a loud growl in protest to my neglect. Food would be good right now. I hadn't eaten since that bowl of what I think was oatmeal this morning. I know I have no room to talk, but these nuns could not cook. There was no debating that.

I climbed up the small concrete stairs to the electric-blue lit diner, pressing myself past a group of what I assumed to be college students. I kept quiet, hoping I wouldn't be noticed. I didn't feel much like conversing right now, and I let out an inward groan when I saw I'd caught the attention of one of the guys in the group.

"Hey," he fully turned his attention toward me, "you new around here?"

I regarded him, letting some of my annoyance slip in my tone, "yep, just visiting."

He gave me a lopsided grin as if he was proud of himself for hooking me further into the conversation. Little did he know, in this moment I couldn't help but think about how Faith would flash me those grins. Her signature dimples readily making an appearance when she'd get coy with me. Everything about Faith was just effortlessly sexy. She was a natural tease that exuded charm, confidence, and sensuality, and people flocked to her because of it, because they wanted to immerse themselves in this blaze of Faith. I needed it, all of it. I needed her. Slowly, over the years, I've come to realize that she is my other half, and now that I've known Faith, I couldn't live without her. We are the Chosen Two.

Lost in my thoughts, I'd completely forgotten about the grinning frat boy standing in front of me.

He ran his fingers through his sandy blonde hair, which, by the way, was totally styled in a manner that screamed 90s. He obviously didn't get the memo that high school was over.

"So," he leaned against the rail, "why the visit to Middleton, Illinois? You got family or something?"

Illinois? I'm like, one state away from home! Right, so he wasn't being a complete ass, but I didn't have time for this. I tried my best to reply nicely, but my answers retained their irritated edge, "I'm visiting a friend."

"You know, what? I can see you're busy, I'm sorry." He offered a genuine smile this time, "however, if you're feeling up to it there's a huge party going down just outside of town tomorrow night. You shouldn't miss it."

I lied, "nah, I think I'll pass, I've been having car trouble anyway."

One of the bleach-blonde females of the group decided to pitch in, "probably for the better. That place totally freaks me out. I swear it's, like, haunted or something."

An image of the dead driver immediately flashed in my mind, and I shuddered. She looked so dead, yet so alive, almost like she was a ghost.

The bottle-blonde continued, "plus, the people there are just a bunch of weird, leather-head goths and ravers." She recollected in disgust, "and the music, you can't even dance to it. It's just a waste of a night if you ask me."

Honestly, I'm not caught up on Faith, but I couldn't help but smile to myself as I wondered if she'd still think that if she'd seen her in action. Oh yes, my sister-slayer could dance to anything and make it look good. One of the many things I secretly admired and envied about her. Speaking of which, this party was starting to sound like a possible event for this slayer to attend. If Faith was here, she could potentially be going. Either that or she'd assume that that would be the first place I'd look for her. It was settled then. Ladies and Gentlemen, Buffy Summers has a party to attend.

Looking down the street I nodded to myself a few times, affirming my decision. I wasn't about to let the frat boy know that though. "You know what, I'll consider it. Sounds like it could be potentially interesting." Smiling, I flicked a glance his way before turning, "thanks."

As I entered the diner I could hear him try to shout before the door swung shut, "no problem! I'll see you there!"

Pausing, I shot a glance around the diner before sighing to myself, "says you, anyway." I looked down at my stomach, giving it a solid pat, "but as for now, I've got a date with some grub."

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Slipping my pj bottoms on, I let myself fall onto the bed of my new room, reveling in how delicious that California burger was. Avocado and bacon never tasted so good. You know you're homesick when you order something you usually wouldn't only because it's named after the state you're from. I could practically taste the Cali sunshine.

Speaking of sunshine, I rolled over to look at the clock.

Tue. 12:36am

I guess I should try to get some sleep. There was a full day awaiting me tomorrow, and I needed all the beauty sleep I could get.

Switching the lamp off, I turned to my side, watching the clock through the dark.

Tue. 12:37am

I exhaled, feeling the bout of insomnia slowly manifest itself in the back of my head. The blue glow of the clock illuminated little, so my selection of inanimate objects to stare at was limited to one.

The thunder and lightning began to pick up again, and with each flash of lighting, the entire room radiated in a cool hue.

Tue. 12:49am

I furrowed my brow. There was no way twelve minutes just passed in, like, twelve seconds!

The second bolt cracked from the sky, and as the room lit up this time, I noticed something from the corner of my eye, something standing at the foot of my bed. I stilled myself, not wanting to move, not wanting to provoke whatever it was even though I knew it already knew I was here. Fear had swelled throughout my chest, and I tried desperately to choke it back down as I waited for the third bolt.

The moment it struck, I saw her, and I quickly reached for the light switch as the dread filled my throat. Snapping it on, I turned to find the woman from the accident staring down at me.

My voice came out assertive and controlled despite the panic screaming inside. "What do you want?"

The woman tilted her head as she regarded me, "It's not what I want, it's what I'm willing to wait for," she slowly ran the very tips of her fingers over the side of her dark cropped hair, "and what you're willing to forfeit. Decide, or it shall be decided for you."

"Get the hell out of my room. Now!"

She appeared to nearly smile, but her face faltered as she continued to stare. As she began to speak, she lingered on every word, her speech eerily placid, "leave no black plume as a token of that lie thy soul hath spoken! Leave my loneliness unbroken! — quit the bust above my door! Take thy beak from out my heart, and take thy form from off my door!' Quoth the raven, `Nevermore.'"

She turned then, head first, and her body followed. As she crept toward the door, my eyes fell on the large tattooed bird outstretched on her pale back.

As she faced away, her spine-chilling voice broke through the room once more, "And his eyes have all the seeming of a demon's that is dreaming, and the lamp-light o'er him streaming throws his shadow on the floor; And my soul from out that shadow that lies floating on the floor shall be lifted — nevermore!"

Blue eyes rolled to watch me before she disappeared through the door, "a choice."

I remained still for a moment, then quickly glanced at the clock

Wed. 12:49am

I could only stare in disbelief. It was official; I was losing my mind...

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I had to redress myself with yesterday's clothes in the shower room since I couldn't just walk throughout a nunnery in my towel and birthday suit. Towel-drying my hair, I walked into my room and to the bed.

Tonight was the party, and I had to focus on clothes even though the only thing I really want right now is a nap. I couldn't sleep at all last night, if that's what you could even call it, for obvious reasons. Slowly, I fell to my back, my eyes sweeping across the ceiling. So, `leather-heads' hmm? I sat up, leaning back on my elbows. We'll have to go dark tonight then. I wouldn't want to stand out too much. I looked at my reflection in the mirror hanging across the room. It was bad enough that I'd be going with blonde hair and not black or some crazy neon color.

Hopping to my feet, I headed to the pile of clothes I'd collected from my beloved donation room. Now that I actually think about it, I'm pretty sure the attire was contributed by a mixture of prostitutes, drag queens, and hillbillies. And somehow, by the grace of God, the clothing managed to find itself in a nunnery. I'm just making a point. Thankfully, there was that rather cute black halter with a silver zipper down the front that I just had to pick up. Definitely something I'd wear back in Cleveland. That's assuming I even make it back.

I peeled my white tank off and tossed it, the towel from my hair shortly following to the sage green bedding. Standing, I quickly appreciated the black undergarment and the way it contrasted with my tan skin. Yes, Mom always said that you should never wear a black bra with a white top, but I was in a hurry. I stood, watching myself in the mirror as I briefly readjusted the snug lace trimming around my chest. Plus, Faith does it all the time, which pretty much justifies it. I grabbed for the halter, and quickly slipped it over me. The material must have been something like Lycra and polyester, because this was hugging my chest perfectly. Deciding I couldn't have bra straps with a halter, my hands went to my back and unhinged the clasps. Before I could even say it, I was braless, and apparently a little cold. Well, maybe more than a `little.'

Grinning, I shook my hair out, letting it fall naturally. Sun-kissed waves cascaded just slightly down over my shoulders. Again, pride hit me and I couldn't help but muse out loud, "pretty good for working with next to nothing. Now," I glanced around the room, "where'd my boots go?" Sure they were a little damaged, but there was no way I'd ever wear work boots to a club. Ever.

As I slipped on my beloved footwear, there was a brief rap at the door. The hinges squealed as the door slowly opened and Sister Liana walked in.

"Oh. OH! Buffy, what on earth are you wearing?" Liana just looked at me, eyes wide in what looked like terror.

Giving her a quick pout, I glanced down at my outfit as I answered her, "polyester, why? What's wrong with it?" I feigned a look of hurt at her.

"Well, I..." she looked away, struggling for words, "I mean, there's nothing wrong with it, but isn't it just a tad too..." She motioned at her own chest with her hands. At least I'm assuming it was her chest. You really can't tell with these gowns.

"Revealing?"

"Yes!"

Laughing, I turned toward the bed. "Well, I'm going to wear a jacket with it of course. Wouldn't want to get sick." A sudden thought crossed my mind, "you wouldn't happen to have a secret stash of fashionable jackets lying around or something would you?"

Liana let out a light chuckle, "I don't want to disappoint you too much, but no, I'm afraid not."

"Bummer," I deadpanned.

Turning back toward the sole jacket lying on the bed, I picked it up, careful not to disturb the knife situated in the inner pocket, and slipped one arm through and then the other. I'd made a brief stop at the local home and garden store to pick up some artillery at a five-finger discount. Hey, a crime for the good of the community-possibly the world-isn't really a crime. I'm just doing my job. I shouldn't have to pay. Same thing goes with clothing. Am I the only one that thinks it's ridiculous that the council doesn't reimburse me for clothing and/or accessory damage? I'll have to have Giles get on that pronto.

There was a brief hesitation before she spoke again, "Buffy, there's something I wanted to speak with you about."

My stomach dropped and I nearly froze in my tracks, but I did my best not to show she'd made me uncomfortable as I faced her. "Hit me, I'm all ears." Did she know who I was? Did she know what I was? You don't go to Hell for lying to nuns, do you? Because I know I'm going to Heaven as of right now, and there's no way in...well, Hell, I'm screwing that up.

As her rose-colored lips curved into a sincere smile, those honey eyes gently regarded me, "I just wanted to tell you to be careful." Her gaze observed my attire for a second time, "I know you're looking for your friend and going to that club tonight, and I highly advise against it," she let out a sigh, "but you will do what you will, and if you seek answers, then you must go. Just be wary, Buffy. Many have been going missing within these passing days." Sister Liana rose, smoothing her gown like she always did, "just be careful."

I exhaled, watching her petite frame pass through the monster of a doorway. I could only blink as the last thought ran through my head. I wonder what she looks like without that outfit.

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Mocking the frat boy in my head, I crossed my arms. Oh, it's a couple of blocks away, blah blah blah. What a liar. Quick lesson Zach Morris, a couple is two. A couple of blocks equal two blocks. I've walked at least four now, going on five. I pulled my jacket tighter around me as I neared the corner. Now I could begin to hear the music, which was a relief all in itself. I turned around the corner, brushing a leaf from my thigh before I glanced up, "thank Go...oh this is so bad news." There, standing at least seven stories high was the battered and bruised `club.' It just looked like a shell of what I imagined it used to look like.

Okay, so how come everyone just somehow failed to mention that I was going to be partying it up in an abandoned church? And what is up with Middleton and churches! I patted the jacket pocket to make sure my weapon was still on board with me. Well, where there's an abandoned church, there are vampires...among other things.

"Hey! You made it!"

I rolled my eyes. And by other things, I obviously meant annoying frat boys.

I made my way toward him as he waved me over, and when I got to the group, I noticed the blonde wasn't with them. Smart girl, oddly enough.

Being that I wasn't raised without manners, I gave the now quiet group a brief smile then focused on my previous informant, "Hey, figured I'd come. Might as well, right?"

In a moment's time, the group was back to its original roar and I had to lean in to hear him, "glad you decided to join us. Sorry for the informal meeting earlier." He stuck his hand out to introduce himself, "I'm Zach."

Inside I was screaming with laughter, but I only offered him a polite smile and squeezed his hand in return, "I'm Buffy."

Zach let out a low whistle as he shook his hand out, "anyone ever tell you you've got quite the grip for a girl?"

"All the time," I stated matter-of-factly. I think he took it as sarcasm, because he just laughed. Silly boy. If he only knew that most of his childhood monsters were eventually eradicated by me, he wouldn't be laughing.

I stared down at my boots, now covered in an array of yellow and rust orange leaves. I swear, this place was the epitome of Fall. The town was covered with dead leaves, continuously overcast, and perpetually windy. I kid you not. This was like the land of eternal wind. Think I'm lying? Ask my hair.

Nodding toward the ancient-looking church, I asked Zach, "so, we going in or what?"

He laughed, like I was joking with him. Once he saw I wasn't, he stopped. I thought it was rather humorous to be honest.

Still staring at me, he pressed on, "you're serious? We don't really go into the club, we just kind of meander about outside. You know, enjoy the music from the `safe zone.' They probably wouldn't let us in anyway."

I wrinkled my nose, "really? Well, that kinda defeats the purpose of going to a `club', doesn't it?" I stood on my toes, trying to get a better view of the monster of a building looming over the crowd of people. What I saw caused me to freeze instantly.

Those eyes! It was her, the woman from the wreck. The one from my room.

I pushed someone out of the way, and quickly began making my way toward her. Off in the distance, I could hear Zach's voice above the boisterous crowd, "heh, looks like she found her friend."

I could have only been twenty feet away or so before she slowly turned her head toward me. Her icy blue eyes looked so haunted, so tormented, and yet, so wise. As much as she gave off the evil vibe, there was something else to her. She stood, somber, parts of her cropped dark hair falling over her eyes. There was that tattoo between her right shoulder blade and spine of what looked like a large black bird. A raven.

We stood there, staring at one another until the brunette standing next to her playfully slid a hand over the tattoo, up the nape of her neck and through her hair.

The blue-eyed woman then turned her attention toward the other, sliding her own hand down and underneath the back of the brunette's black leather skirt. She pulled the leather-clad woman into her, whispering something in her ear. I obviously couldn't hear, and I'm pretty confident I wouldn't want to, but whatever it was caused the two to press even more tightly against one another. The brunette let out a flirtatious giggle, and as she turned to bite the tattooed woman's earlobe, I caught a glimpse of her.

My heart raced. I'd know that profile anywhere.

As I finally managed to pull air into my lungs, I called out for her. "Faith!"

Those blue eyes regarded me again, this time with uncertainty, and it wasn't even a moment before Faith was being pulled toward the club's entrance by the woman.

"Faith! Wait!"

I ran after her, but as I neared the area they were just standing in, two walls of muscle popped out of nowhere. Colliding with the men, I felt the air rush out of my lungs in an audible grunt. I looked up to see one face masked and the other riled and, yet, strangely amused. Right, so these must be the loyal henchmen?

I tried pushing my way through them, but they wouldn't have it. The biker-looking one of the two warned me, "we've got orders from Raven, lady."

My eyebrows shot up, the link finally connecting. Huh, of course her name was Raven. What else would it be?

Frustrated, I stepped back, "Okay. We can do this the easy way," I started pulling up the sleeves of my jacket, "or, we can do it the hard way. Which will it be boys?"

The masked man seemed to tilt his head with delight as he watched me, his voice coming out partially muffled and a bit sadistic, "Oh, I'm gonna get you, baby."

Shifting the weight from my right leg, I settled on the left. I smiled up at the two, mainly the maniac with the mask, "You know, you really shouldn't call me that." Without warning, I pressed back onto my left leg and, lifting my right, transferred my power and weight forward into a solid front kick. As I connected with the masked creep's chest, he was sent flying for a good fifteen feet before landing with a heavy thud.

I grinned, feeling that familiar rush coarse through my body. Oh, I so needed this.

Before the other could react, I rushed forward, throwing a flurry of combos into his face, chest, and abdomen. To my disappointment, he went down with little effort.

I whined, "you've gotta be kidding me, I was just getting started!"

Shaking my head, I walked over the groaning two-some as the crowd that quickly gathered looked on. Marching toward the club's entrance, I brushed my hands together as I sighed to myself, "let's get this party started then."

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Recommended Listening: "Neurology" — Heartwire

The hallway was lit by a series of deep blue lights along the stone walls. Making my way through, I could already hear the music tunneling down toward me. The dark bass came in thick distorted waves, reverberating throughout my entire body, and the fast, steady drum beat coursed in solid breaks right through me. If my adrenaline wasn't going already, it was now.

As I neared what I assumed to be the bouncers, I pulled my jacket off. I mentally kicked myself in the ass as I realized there was no way I could expect to get in with a seven-inch blade on me. I guess as long as I had my fists, I'd be fine. I tossed it aside before anyone saw what I was doing and continued on toward the string of people waiting to get in.

When I reached the front of the line, I followed suit, holding my hand out so the man wielding the stamp could mark me. I watched as he dipped the instrument in melted red wax then quickly pressed it onto the back of my hand. It threatened to burn for a moment, then the heat quickly dissipated. Staring at the raised symbol on the back of my hand, I continued down the remaining corridor. Before I turned down the next hall, something large caught my eye. I glanced up to see what it was and to my amusement, there were large bold and crimson red letters sprawled across the stone.

Abandon All Hope, Ye Who Enter Here

Unimpressed, I scoffed, "it's like Halloween all over again."

I turned the corner and was met with a sea of half-naked, leather-clad bodies, gyrating, grinding, rubbing, pounding, you name it. The interior was completely destroyed save a few stairways and walls. There were broken columns and pillars jutting toward the ceiling. Pits of fire were lined throughout the vast room, the blazing flames casting shadows across the mass of people.

I laughed to myself when even amongst all of that, all the chaos, it only took me a few moments to pick out Faith. The way she moves, the energy she exudes, it was all so hard to miss. I watched as she ground her hips with the music, one arm bent over her head and the other sliding through the dark chocolate waves of her hair. She moved from one nameless person to the next, leaving a trail of hunger in her wake. Her features were set with intensity as she lost herself in the music, in the darkness that poured through the room. It never failed. Every time I watched her dance, I couldn't help but watch in anything but awe.

The question is, what the hell is she doing here, and why is she with the crazy?

I watched as a wicked smile formed on Faith's face as she caught sight of someone. She moved with the music toward her target. Spinning, gyrating, and never missing a beat as she pushed her way closer to Raven. As I continued to stare, I felt a slight twinge of jealousy flicker in me, but now was not the time for that.

Raven grabbed her, pulling her toward a descending stairway.

My eyes narrowed, "oh, where are you going?" Instinctively, I followed, cautiously making my way down the same stone steps.

As if it wasn't hard enough to see in this place, there was little to no lighting down these next corridors. Every fiber of my being screamed at me to walk away, to leave this place, but I couldn't follow my gut this time. My heart told me to keep going. This girl, Faith or not, needed my help. I could feel it.

I pressed on, listening for any signs of movement, any signs of life. As I looked around I realized this underground area was completely desolate and probably with good reason, too. Occasionally, I'd pass a closed door or two, but most were wide open or the door was missing entirely. There was one door in particular that grabbed my attention though. It was closed, like others, but there was something written across it. Most of the writing on the doors was scrawled nonsense, but this was different. The letters were inscribed with care and precision. Like a dedication, or a...headstone.

But we loved with a love that was more than love—

I and my Annabel Lee;

With a love that the winged seraphs of heaven

Coveted her and me...

And neither the angels in heaven above,

Nor the demons down under the sea,

Can ever dissever my soul from the soul

Of the beautiful Annabel Lee.

I brought my jaw back up with an audible click as I recalled Raven standing in my bedroom, reciting something similar. As I almost lost myself in thought again, I heard a muffled whimper coming from behind the door, and that was all it took. Without a second thought, my knee connected with the door and sent it flying open and off the hinges. As my eyes adjusted to the large candlelit room, I saw Faith chained down to an altar located near the back. I hurried over, and when she saw me, her eyes lit up with hope.

Quickly pulling the cloth from her mouth, I examined her, making sure she wasn't hurt.

"B, the bastards are going to fuckin' sacrifice me. We gotta get the hell outta here!"

I ran my fingers over the layers of chains pinning her down. There were too many for her to get out on her own. Sliding my hands under each one, I pulled, the metal protesting before snapping open. There were at least twenty chains I had to go through before she was free. She tossed the broken links off of her and jumped off the altar.

I looked up to see Faith flash me a dangerous smile, "I knew you'd come for me." Then she grabbed me, pulling me into a kiss. It was deep and long, and oh, so needed. Everything that had built up to this moment surfaced, and I couldn't help but return it. Picking her legs up off the ground, I carried her into the nearest wall, our bodies colliding on impact. Faith let out a low groan as I ground my hips into hers.

I'll be damned if that little voice in my head pulled me back from the moment. What if this isn't Faith? What if...I don't know. But, what if?

Moving my mouth over hers, I took this time to run my hand along her lower abdomen, searching for the mark I'd left on her. My heart dropped. Nothing. There was just smooth skin. I pulled back for a moment, grabbing her, and then slammed her into the wall.

My face was only inches away from hers, and my voice shook with rage, "what the hell are you trying to pull?"

"Fuck, B..."

"Don't call me that!" I slammed her again, my voice coming out more forcefully this time, "who are you?"

There was a familiar voice that came from behind. I quickly released the imposter, and turned toward the voice.

My jaw dropped as I took in the scene before me. "Sister Liana?"

She nodded in acknowledgement, "Buffy." Then continued walking toward me, " I know you're not used to this," she motioned to her outfit with her hand, "but here I am."

I couldn't help but trail my eyes down her `attire.' Hot pants, fishnets, stiletto heels, and a corset hardly screams `nun.' I momentarily fumed, knowing full well she had some gorgeous leather jacket somewhere that she kept from me. What a liar.

I shook my head, still trying to take everything in, "what's going on here?"

Liana looked at me from under her dark lashes, "you want the short version, or the long version?" She shot a wicked smile my way, "I know you've got selective hearing, so I guess it really doesn't matter, does it?"

The former nun took a few steps toward me, which caused me to take a few back.

"You see, Buffy, I collect souls. Not necessarily for myself," she buffed her fingernails against her chest, "but for the greater power. I do what they say and I reap the benefits. Our little Annabel over there, was my first choice, but then you, you intrigued me."

She shot me a glance, "you see, I struck up a deal with Annie after I noticed you'd been mistaking her for someone obviously important to you. I told her I'd return her to her body back at the convent's hospital once all was said and done."

I flicked a glance at Annabel as the realization hit me. I whispered to myself, "I was looking for Faith, not Annabel."

"My, you are a smart one, aren't you?" Liana let out a sadistic laugh, "anyway, long story short, my orders are to retrieve your soul," she pulled out an ornate dagger from the side of her corset, "and I plan on collecting."

I felt hands grabbing at me, too many to count, and before I knew it I was being lifted toward the altar. I tried to kick, tried to flail my limbs, but it wasn't working. There were whatever was holding me was too strong.

I watched as Liana sauntered up toward me, the dagger in her hand. "I'm just sorry it had to end this way, Buffy. I really am."

Her laughter echoed throughout the entire room as she raised the dagger above her head. As she brought her hands down my chest, I rolled with as much strength as I could, and I felt the dagger impale my shoulder instead. The hands holding me unexpectedly loosened, and I used it to my advantage, doing a backward roll off the altar. I swung my leg around, and I felt my boot connecting to someone's throat, the cartilage snapping against the pressure. Pulling the dagger out of my shoulder, I worked in a flurry, stabbing, slicing, kicking, until there were just bodies lying around me. Some were still alive, others were mortally wounded. I didn't care.

Pulling out her a twin dagger to the one I held, I saw Liana glance at me before she charged. I barely had time to duck, evading her first attempt to stab me. I grabbed her arm as she was recovering from the failed attack, and hip-tossed her onto the altar. Pinning her down, I saw the fight in her eyes. She wasn't even scared. This woman was outright sadistic.

"See," I struggled to hold her down with the dagger still in my hand, "there's one thing you don't know about me, Sister." I grinned, "I'm the Slayer, and I kill people like you for a living." I brought the dagger down with all my strength and felt it slip with little resistance through her chest.

There wasn't even a scream, just an instant blast of light that sent me flying into a wall. Or at least, there should have been a wall. I opened my eyes to see that familiar green light that I just loved so much.

"Oh, you've gotta be kidding me!"

Chapter 8: Alphabet Confusion

Author: LilJemsey

Rated: NC-17

Once the light from the green portal disappeared and her stomach stopped churning Buffy was able to take in her surroundings. The room she had landed in had stark white walls and was completely bare except for the bed in the middle of the room with a heart monitor and IV stand next to it. The bed was empty and the blonde Slayer wondered briefly if all her portal jumping had been a dream. Maybe she'd hit her head during patrol last night and ended up here. She checked herself over for any sign of injuries or a tell-tale hospital wristband, but came up empty.

"What the hell was in that brownie Andrew gave me last night?" she muttered under her breath, her voice echoing eerily in the silent room, "I've told him time and time again that I don't want to try any Klingon food and I swear to God if he's poisoned me with some outer space disease I'm gonna kick his ass back to, well back to last night so I can refuse the brownie."

The sound of someone screaming pulled her from her thoughts of seriously kicking a nerd's ass and she peered curiously through the window of the door that separated her from whatever it was that was outside the room. For a hospital, the hallway was relatively clear of activity, only a bored-looking woman sitting behind a large reception desk and a pair of orderlies who chatted amongst themselves as they pushed a bed down the corridor. Somehow the screaming she had heard didn't seem to bother them even though it had chilled Buffy to the bone.

Once the orderlies had passed, she inched the door open casting a glance to the receptionist whose gaze hadn't strayed from the small TV she was watching. She made it out the door and halfway down the hall, her boots clicking loudly on the tiled floor, before the screaming began again, this time much closer than before. The person screaming sounded terrified and Buffy was completely perplexed as to why no one seemed to worry. The Slayer in her begged her to investigate but the eight year old in her told her to run and leave because she still didn't like being in a building that was so sterile.

Since she wasn't quite sure where she was, the uneasiness won out and she walked quickly towards the exit sign, hoping that once outside she would be able to get a clue as to where the portal had dropped her. She was nearly there, could feel the fresh air of outside calling to her when the screaming began again and the double doors in front of her burst open and two orderlies pulled a hospital bed through.

She had to jump out of the way of the bed when the corridor, which had been previously still, burst into activity. The woman who was on the gurney was thrashing and the orderlies were having a hard time holding her down, her anguished screams echoed down the hallway and doctors and nurses seemed to appear out of nowhere.

"Hold her down," a dark skinned doctor yelled over the screaming, a syringe in his hand.

"No no, I'm sorry, oh God I'm so sorry, please just leave me alone, no," the woman screamed as the orderlies restrained her.

"What happened?" the dark skinned doctor asked as he pushed the syringe into her arm. The woman's screams tapered off as the drug began to take effect and her body slumped back against the gurney.

"Cops found her in St. Michael's up the road Dr. Parks," the larger of the two orderlies told him. "The priest called it in, said she had come in to question him about the alphabet killings and then started screaming at him and threatening him with her gun. Said she ran out into the church and was firing randomly, yelling that she was sorry before she collapsed."

"She'd made so much progress," Dr. Parks sighed. "Get her to her room and then get a blood sample; I want to know if she's been taking her meds."

The blonde Slayer watched as one of the nurses wiped the hair from the prone woman's forehead and Buffy felt her heart thudding in her ears as there was no mistaking who the woman was. From the shape of her eyes to the mole above the corner of her lip, this woman was all Faith. She wondered if the brunette Slayer had been portal jumping as well and had and somehow landed herself in hospital again.

Only the man, Doctor Parks, seemed like he knew her, like he had treated her before. Maybe this was another Faith doppelganger. Whoever it was, however, Buffy knew she couldn't just leave her dark counterpart here. Faith hated hospitals as much, if not more than she did, and she couldn't abandon her as much as it would be payback for the time Faith left her in the emergency room with a broken arm so she could go and get a milkshake.

"Stupid growing as a person," she muttered under her breath as she sat down in one of the chairs outside the room they had taken Faith into.

The hallway had cleared again and no one seemed to be paying any attention to the mysterious blonde girl who was hanging around. For that Buffy was glad as she still wasn't sure where she was and she didn't want to find herself on the receiving end of one of those needles should someone deem it necessary to ask. She waited until the doctor and orderlies had left Faith's room, flipping idly through a magazine until the corridor was completely empty again. The receptionist still sat at her desk, not bothered by the commotion earlier, her eyes still trained to the soap opera playing on her television.

The woman didn't even spare her a glance as she inched her way towards Faith's door. With every sound her boots made against the tiled floor, she looked instinctively over her shoulder expecting someone to stop her. Taking one last glance at the woman sitting at the desk, she slipped quietly into Faith's room closing the door softly behind her.

It was almost unnatural for her to see her dark counterpart so still. Whilst the brunette Slayer had been off searching the globe and picking up new Slayers they had still managed to rebuild their relationship and she would even consider them close. They had on occasion undertaken the century's old tradition of a movie night and sleepover and the blonde had always wondered how the dark Slayer could feel rested in the morning as she tossed and turned so much during the night.

Buffy looked around the room, knowing she couldn't break Faith out wearing a hospital gown and nothing else. In the small cupboard near the door she was lucky enough to find a pair of grey sweats and a simple white T-shirt.

"Faith," she hissed, once she grabbed the clothes and went back over to the bed.

She didn't want to draw attention to herself but also didn't want to invade the other Slayer's privacy by undressing her without her consent. The sedative the doctor had given her was strong and the brunette woman didn't stir. Buffy didn't have time to wait; she could be caught at any second and trying to explain why she was breaking a patient out of hospital was a conversation she'd rather avoid. She pulled the IV out of Faith's arm, apologising when blood trickled out of the small round laceration it left. She dressed the other woman quickly, making sure that she kept her eyes on the brunette's face; she only peeked once and that was only because Faith told her she'd checked herself out naked when she'd been wearing Buffy's skin and blonde had never had the chance to reciprocate.

"An eye for an eye," she muttered pulling the sweat pants up over Faith's legs.

Once she had Faith adequately dressed, she threw another glance over her shoulder to make sure she hadn't been spotted before moving over to the window. The hospital was only one storey high for which she was grateful because it made escaping through the window an easier task. There were steel bars across the window probably to discourage any such escape, but they proved to be no match for Buffy's Slayer strength. She had to twist them right off so that they would be able to fit through and she was positive the whole hospital had heard when the metal screeched loudly.

The Californian tried shaking the prone Slayer again but the sedative still kept her unconscious. Being careful not to knock the other woman's head on the edge of the bed she picked her up and threw her over her shoulder fireman-style to allow her to use her hands. Throwing one last glance over her shoulder, Buffy held Faith with one arm and manoeuvred them both through the window and down the short fall to the ground. She sighed in relief when no alarms went off and no one screamed out at her and she moved as quickly as she could towards the main street.

She could tell they definitely weren't in Cleveland anymore, it felt colder and the sky was overcast, and it was daytime, something it hadn't been when she was pulled through the portal. There went her idea of having hallucinated the past few realities. Buffy still didn't know if the person she had just rescued from the hospital was Faith, however.

She felt awkward carrying the taller girl over her shoulder and the few people that were walking along the sidewalk gave her weird looks before moving quickly past. It was difficult but she managed to flag down a taxi, noticing the sign on the side that proclaimed they were in Rochester, New York.

"Well at least I know it wasn't an evil portal," she said, relieved to finally have an idea of where she was.

The cab driver gave her a wary look when he pulled over and she manoeuvred the prone woman over her shoulder into the backseat.

"She's a drunk, you know hitting the booze early and then she'll be like this and it's always up to me to go and get her. I've said to her time and time again, Faith, you're going to kill yourself if you keep this up, but does she listen no and it's up to Buffy to pick up the pieces and I just don't know how much more of this I can take," Buffy said ready to turn on the crocodile tears if needed.

"She's not gonna yak or nothin' is she?" the cabbie asked. "'Cause you two ain't riding in my cab, no matter how pretty you are if she's gonna yak."

"No, no yakking of any kind. She may be an alcoholic, but she can hold her liquor," Buffy said flushing when the man shot her an unconvinced look at the unconscious brunette.

"Where to?" he asked finally.

"The nearest motel, I don't care what it is like, just make sure it's the closest," Buffy told him.

He gave her another wary look before nodding and starting the engine. Buffy didn't care where they went; she just needed somewhere with a phone so she could call home and get Willow to zap the two Slayers home — that is, if this was actually Faith and if Buffy could find a phone number that still was working. She wanted to at least assure her friends that she was all right because they must be worried that she hadn't returned home from patrol yet.

The blonde was confused as to how Faith had been pulled through the portal because the last she had seen the Bostonian, she had been trying to get up after the demon had hit her, far away from where the portal had opened. She also wanted to know why the doctors had spoken about Faith being in a church and with gun; as far as she was aware the dark Slayer had a thing against them especially after she had nearly been shot by Angelus.

"They look wicked cool on TV, but they do more damage than they're worth in real life," the brunette had told her counterpart one day at the same time as she had been pulverising someone in one of her video games.

All signs pointed to this being yet another Faith-look-a-like, but Buffy wanted to believe it was really her sister-Slayer. She didn't want to dwell on the very real possibility of portal hopping for all of eternity. Alone.

The dark Slayer had looked pretty crazy strapped to that gurney, but the blonde rationalised that if she had found herself gun in hand in a creepy old church with cops approaching she probably wouldn't have acted all that much like a sane person either.

"Here you are," the cab driver said as he pulled the car to a stop.

The motel looked respectful, with a bright neon sign announcing its vacancy.

"Could you possibly go in and book us a room?" Buffy asked, "Faith and me a room, not you and me a room," she said embarrassed. "It would just be easier," she said shooting a glance to the still unconscious brunette resting against the window. "I'll pay you extra."

The cab driver grumbled but took the cash from her, returning not long after with a room key. He threw it back to her before starting the engine again and driving them up to the door.

"You might wanna get her some help," he said as she hoisted Faith over her shoulder. "My Aunt runs the AA out of the local youth shelter; you should bring her along sometime," he said handing her a business card.

"I'll do that," Buffy said. "Thanks again."

The room was clean but still smelt like it had been shut for a while. After making sure Faith was comfortable on the bed, Buffy opened the window to try and let some air in. The room had a double bed and nightstand as well as a door, which Buffy assumed led to a bathroom. She was excited to see a phone on the nightstand and punched in the familiar number to the Cleveland headquarters. The phone was engaged and she frowned when the answering machine didn't automatically click on. At least the number was still connected, though. It was better than when she'd tried to call Willow earlier in her adventures.

"Andrew better not have plugged his Xbox into the phone line again, Giles will be so mad," the blonde smirked when she remembered how her Watcher had turned purple when he realised he'd missed a phone call from a shaman in Peru he had been waiting for because the blonde nerd had been playing "Halo" against someone in Switzerland.

There wasn't much she could do except wait for the sedative the doctors had given Faith to wear off, so she slid onto the bed next to Faith. She studied the other woman's face, the sprinkling of freckles across her nose, the dark eye lashes splayed across her cheek and the pouty bottom lip that always looked so soft and inviting. She couldn't stop her eyes from travelling down the rest of the prone woman's form; she had always found the younger girl attractive and with their new found `not trying to kill each other' ship, she had felt her feelings towards the brunette beginning to change.

Faith was hot, anyone with eyes could see that; the thing that was strange was that Buffy noticed and wanted to act on that. She had never felt that way about another girl before and truth be told it was scary. She was more scared that it was Faith she was having these feelings for than that Faith was a girl. Faith didn't do relationships and Buffy had never wanted one more. Her fingers grazed over the other girl's cheek, amazed at how soft her skin felt. She almost expected it would be rough because Faith never gave the impression that she was someone who moisturised. Her fingers continued on their journey down Faith's face and down to trace the contours of the tattoo that was on the other woman's bicep.

"Where's her tattoo?" Buffy asked her fingers stopping where the familiar tribal design that should have been, "If the portal got rid of that she is gonna be so mad."

She was pulled from her thoughts when she felt the bed move and the other woman on the bed shifted, her right hand flinching sporadically.

"Faith," she said hopefully, "Come on, Slayer. Open those eyes."

Faith groaned and her eyes opened lazily, blinking until she was looking at Buffy. Her movements were sluggish as she moved a hand to brush the hair out of her face as she looked at Buffy with confusion in her eyes.

"Hey, how you feeling?" Buffy asked her softly.

"My head hurts," the brunette woman groaned rubbing her eyes.

"Well we did go portal diving and some doctor guy gave you a sedative, so headaches are to be expected I guess," Buffy said.

"Did he give me Thorazine again?" the other woman asked, looking confused as she took in her surroundings.

"I don't know, and Faith, when have you ever had Thorazine before?" Buffy asked, her own confusion now evident.

"My name's not Faith. What the fuck is this? Is this some sort of treatment plan of Parks'?" the brunette asked, struggling to get off the bed.

"Geez, how hard did you hit your head when you fell?" Buffy chuckled, despite the way her stomach dropped at the woman's denial.

"I-I don't know but I really have to go," the younger woman said heading towards the door.

"Faith, wait, we have to try and get a flight home, or at least get a hold of Willow so she can zap us there," Buffy said. "Why are you acting weird? Did you eat some bad sushi while you were in Korea or somethin'?"

"Sushi is Japanese, and why do you keep calling me `Faith'? That's not my name," the brunette woman said.

"Yes it is, you're Faith Lehane and I'm Buffy Summers, you lived in Boston and then you came to Sunnydale and now, well you're kind of a jetsetter right now but most of the time you live in Cleveland with me and the rest of the girls," Buffy said, her voice becoming more frantic. No, this couldn't be happening to her again. Not again. She had been so sure this time.

"No, my name is Megan Paige. I'm a police officer. I've lived here in Rochester my entire life and never travelled further than San Francisco, and I don't live with anyone," the other woman told her.

They were silent, both appraising each other. Buffy looked hard at the woman standing in front of her. The woman was Faith, there was no denying that and it was possible that the portal had injured her enough to make her forget who she was, but to make up an entire other persona, was it possible a portal could do that? The blonde slayer swallowed hard. This was yet another reality. Which meant there probably wasn't a Giles or a Willow or even an Andrew. Not in the way she knew them, at least.

"Look, I don't know who you are or who Faith is, but I really have to get out of here, I-I gotta go, I g-gotta help them," the woman stuttered, grasping a hold of her hand that had begun twitching again. "I-I have to go, I have to get back to that church, h-he's there, I know it, I just," the brunette trailed off her hand grabbing at her head.

"Hey, are you okay?" Buffy asked, noticing the other woman's distress.

"I don't k-know, I-I think it's the Thorazine, but I gotta get to the church," she replied.

"You're not lying are you, you're really not Faith," Buffy said staring at the other woman incredulously.

"No, I'm Megan," the brunette said her eyes widening, "Oh god, I'm sorry, I'm sorry, b-but I've nearly figured it out, I promise, I promise," she said as she backed up against the motel room door, her eyes fixed on something over Buffy's shoulder.

"Well I'm glad you've nearly figured it out because honestly I'm still in the dark here," Buffy said frowning and looking over her shoulder to see what the other woman was staring at.

"I'm so sorry, Carla," Megan whispered her hands going to her head as she sunk to the floor.

"It's Buffy," the blonde Slayer said giving the other woman a quizzical look, "And you have nothing to be sorry for because it's me who broke you out of hospital which I should probably be getting you back to now that we've established you're not Faith."

No!" Megan all but yelled, forcing herself to stand. "I can't go back there, I have to help them."

"Help who?" Buffy asked.

"Them," Megan said pointing over Buffy's shoulder.

The blonde turned again to glance where the woman was pointing, but saw nothing but the insides of the motel room they were in. In her business things weren't always black and white so she supposed it was possible the other woman was seeing things she couldn't.

"Who are they?" she asked stepping closer.

"Girls, ones I couldn't save, they were killed because I couldn't figure it out," Megan said, her voice wavering.

"They were murdered?" Buffy asked.

"They call him the Alphabet Killer, Carla Castile killed in Churchville, Wendy Walsh killed in Webster," Megan said.

"And you are on the case, trying to catch this guy?" Buffy asked.

Megan nodded, stretching out her hand, "I was on the case, before I-I got sick, fixated on the probabilities that these murders were happening to girls with the same first and last initial and in towns that started with the same letter as well. They say I've got adult onset schizophrenia, so the Captain took me off the case. They thought they got him but then it happened again. We tried to find a connection and I finally got it. It's the church, there's something there, I just gotta get back there," Megan said, the absolute desperation in her voice sending shivers down the blonde Slayer's spine. "Will you help me?"

As Buffy stared at the woman in front of her, she found it difficult to disassociate her from the brunette Slayer she had failed to help all those years ago. The dark brown eyes staring back into her own were the same ones that had, back in Sunnydale, refused the help she had offered, albeit weakly at the time. It was hard to ignore the pleas of this other woman when it was all she had ever wanted to hear Faith ask.

"Please," Megan pleaded.

"Okay, okay," Buffy said, moving back to sit on the bed. "We need to go back to that church if you said that's where the connection is, maybe talk to a few people, play a bit of good cop bad cop on the pastor's ass. Is it pastor? I never know and I don't want to get it wrong because, well I've heard smiting happens in those places," she said trying to lighten the mood.

The brunette standing in front of her didn't smile. Instead she shivered and grabbed at her hand, which had begun to shake and twitch again.

"Hey, are you okay?" Buffy asked, worried now that she knew the truth about the other woman's condition. "If this is going to be too much for you maybe you should rest for a bit, get your head right."

"No, no, I-I need to do this it just is hard to know w-what's real," Megan said shrinking back when her ghosts circled around her.

The blonde Slayer felt a pull to the other woman, she knew her affinity for doing what was right no matter the circumstance would always win out in the end and the distressed woman was clearly in need of some help, she just didn't know if she was qualified to give it.

"This is real," she said moving so she was standing close to the other woman, "This guy killing girls is real, and the connection at the church is real, I can feel it, I have a sort of seventh sense for those sorts of things."

"Y-you just appear out of nowhere and start talking about portals," Megan said.

"You caught that, huh," Buffy cringed thinking she had gotten away with it. "Look, I know I sound kind of like a crazy person," she said and Megan chuckled deprecatingly. "Sorry," the blonde Slayer winced, "but I promise you I'm good at this sort of stuff. Helping people is kind of my destiny."

"How do I even know you are real? I mean you just agree to help me even after I tell you that I see ghosts, that I see these girls. I-I mean it's a little too good to be true. What if you're just part of the delusion?" she asked tapering off, her whole body beginning to shake.

"If I wasn't real would I be able to do this?" Buffy asked grabbing for the other woman's twitching hand and holding it tightly within her own. She could feel how the tense muscles there danced under her grip and then all of a sudden seemed to relax, even giving her own hand a quick squeeze. "Look I know this is hard and you must be confused, I am as well, but I'm a firm believer of things happening for a reason and I wouldn't have been bought here if there wasn't a purpose for my visit. So let me help you catch this guy."

The tension in the air was thick enough to cut with the Slayer scythe if she had brought it with her. The blonde could tell that the other woman was just seconds away from disappearing into her delusions.

"My name is Buffy and I am one hundred percent real," she said bringing the other woman's hand which she still held in her own so it cupped her cheek.

She could feel the other woman's hand trembling against her skin, but as she stared into the dark brown eyes that searched her face, she thought she saw relief sparkling in the depths. She also saw desperation and hurt and was caught completely off-guard when the other woman's lips crashed against her own. She was momentarily stunned, but soon came to her senses and pushed the other woman off of her.

Megan's chest was heaving with each heavy breath she took and her hands were still resting on Buffy's shoulders. The blonde was silent, taking in the woman in front of her who looked so much like her sister-Slayer even down to the small scar next to her left eyebrow. Suddenly it wasn't Megan standing in front of her and all she could picture was the Bostonian Slayer. It was with that image in her head that she closed the gap between them and crushed her lips to the other woman's. The little voice in the back of her head that was reminding her that this woman was not Faith was drowned out by the heat now coursing through her veins at the feeling of the other woman's desperate kisses now moving down her neck and between her breasts.

The blonde wasn't sure if it was because of the other woman's desperation and her need to help or if it was because this woman was Faith's likeness, but there was an intensity between them she had never experienced before. Deep down she had always known there was something between her and Faith that made them closer than just friends. Perhaps it could be put down to the fact that they were both Slayers. She had to remind herself again that the woman currently unbuttoning her blouse was in fact not Faith, but that didn't stop the course of arousal that ran through her at the sound of the other woman's husky groan as their now bare skin made contact.

Her head was telling her to stop, but her heart was pounding in her chest and making her hands move to the other woman's pants. She wasn't the type of person to fall through a portal and sleep with the first person she saw but as her eyes drank in the sight of the now completely naked woman in front of her she knew she wouldn't be able to stop. Granted she had never actually seen Faith naked, but the brunette Slayer always wore clothes that hugged her body and left little to the imagination. She could feel Megan's hands trembling slightly as they popped the button of her jeans and groaned when the brunette slid them slowly off her hips. They were a flurry of arousal and desperation, hands moving across naked flesh and tongues battling for dominance. Buffy wasn't sure why she was letting this continue, she knew the other woman was ill, knew that she was using her to cling to this reality, but something felt so right, their bodies fit so well together, that she couldn't bring herself to make it stop.

They moved as one, their hands exploring each other, their pleasure-filled groans echoing off the walls of the small motel room. Each was lost in their own lust-filled haze and Buffy threw her head back, her eyes closing as the other woman's tongue moved down her chest. She gripped the other woman, pulling her closer and running her hands down the woman's taut stomach. Her hands glided over the smooth skin where, her head tried to reminder her, a long raised scar should be. She pulled back then, her eyes travelling down the naked body in front of her to where her hand rested.

"You're not her," the blonde whispered, eyes trained on the smooth unmarked skin of the other woman's stomach. This woman was not a Slayer, she had not worked for the evil Mayor of Sunnydale, and Buffy hadn't driven a knife through her stomach to cure her poisoned vampire boyfriend.

"Please," the woman lying underneath pleaded, pulling Buffy from her thoughts, "Please, I need to feel, I-I need to know this is real."

That was the last thing either of them said, both giving in to their desires and when Buffy awoke several hours later she felt satisfied in a way she hadn't in a very long time. She knew sleeping with Megan whilst imagining it was Faith wasn't exactly the healthiest thing she could've done and it had brought feelings she hadn't really been aware of to the surface. As soon as she figured this portal business out she was definitely going to have to talk to the other Slayer and try and feel out how she was feeling. Perhaps approaching Faith out of the blue wasn't going to be the wisest thing to do, but she couldn't just let these feelings simmer under the surface and not act on them.

She knew the brunette Slayer was not the sort of woman to do relationships and she could possibly be signing herself up for heartbreak but in that moment she didn't really care. This was something that had been building ever since she had first laid eyes on the younger girl back in the alley behind the Bronze. She had never acknowledged these feelings but in the back of her mind she had always sort of known that they were there. Whether it was the knowledge that Faith was a `get some get gone' kind of girl or that she had been afraid to accept that she was having feelings for another girl she wasn't sure but she had never been able to hang onto a guy and she was sure now that this was the reason why.

The bed moved as Megan stirred next to her and her eyes met the deep brown of the other woman.

"Hey," she said hesitantly.

"Hey, how you feeling?" Buffy asked.

"Better," Megan smiled, "Thanks for uh, well you know."

"That's okay, uh, I don't usually do this sort of thing but i-it was nice, helped me figure some stuff out," Buffy said.

"Me neither and me too," Megan said sitting up and pulling the sheet to her chest, "I don't think that the Priest is the one we're after but I do think whoever it is has a connection with the church. If I can find a list of staff or volunteers, find a connection there I think I could close this."

"Like a yearbook or something? Don't you have to be a member of the church to get one of those?" Buffy asked getting off the bed and throwing on her clothes, surprisingly herself with not being embarrassed by her nakedness in front of the other woman.

"I'm sure the Priest would have one in his office, I'm sure I remember seeing some in there," Megan said sounding more controlled and confident which each word she spoke, "I just don't know how he's going to react to seeing me again. I was kind of, well crazy, when I was there last."

"A little breaking and entering is in order then," Buffy smirked. "Sadly this would not be my first time."

"You forget you're talking to a cop," Megan smiled.

"You can't arrest me though, right? Because all the places I've broken into are a big pile of rubble now. Not that I blew them up or anything. I would never do anything like that; the whole town sort of disappeared into a big pile of dust so bye-bye evidence," Buffy rambled.

"Relax," Megan chuckled. "If I arrested you I would have to arrest myself for breaking into the church and that would bring around more badness than good."

"Good because I don't know if I could survive in the Big House. A reliable source told me they make you watch Glitter in there and everyone knows Mariah should've just stuck to what she was good at," the blonde said.

Neither felt the need to address what had happened between them, both knowing that they needed it for different reasons, but that it would never go further than it had. Megan told her more about the case as they dressed and Buffy could tell how much the other woman was driven by the need to put the killer away. She could relate, knowing the passion she felt for her slaying when she felt a personal connection. For Megan, she knew it was personal because her disease had only shown itself from the stress of not being able to solve it, and knew she could never truly begin to heal herself if this killer was never caught.

"You sure you wanna help me?" Megan asked.

"As long as you take me to a phone that will actually connect me to Cleveland," Buffy frowned putting the phone down after trying to call home again.

"You're from Cleveland?" Megan asked putting on her shoes.

"Not originally but it's where I'm working at the moment," Buffy said putting on her own shoes. Even if they weren't her versions of her friends, maybe they still lived in Cleveland. Maybe they still beat up evil. And if that was true, she needed their help to get her back to her own reality.

"What do you do?" Megan asked.

"Uh, I teach self defence classes," Buffy said.

"Guess you'll come in handy then, huh, if things get physical, uh the fighting kind," Megan blushed.

"Don't know how I'd feel about kicking a Priest's ass, especially in the presence of the Big Guy upstairs, but if he protests to us breaking into his office I may just have to go self-defence gal on his ass," Buffy said.

"Hopefully we can get in and out without him even knowing we were there," Megan said, opening the door.

"Maybe I should distract him and you can slip in. He doesn't know who I am so that could work well for us," Buffy said as the two headed off down the street.

"What will you say to distract him?" Megan asked.

"I'm sure if I described what we just did, he would have something to say about it," Buffy smirked.

"He's pretty old; don't know how he would handle that sort of information," Megan laughed.

"Hey, if it keeps him distracted I'm all for a heart attack," Buffy said.

They chatted easily amongst themselves as they walked down the streets of Rochester. Finally they stopped outside a church, its large doors and overhead hanging stone features giving off a foreboding feeling. Megan grabbed her arm and spun the blonde to face her as Buffy reached for the door handle.

"I-I just wanted to say thanks again for helping me," Megan said. "Not many people are willing to help out once they find out that I'm sick, so thanks for believing me."

"It's okay, I know what it's like to have a gut feeling and most often than not they're usually right, so I think you definitely have something here," Buffy replied squeezing the other girl's arm. "Okay let's go so I can get my distracting on."

"There's another entrance around the back so I'll go in that way," Megan said.

"Good luck," Buffy told her. "Don't get smited."

"I'll do my best," Megan smirked. "Besides with what you're about to tell him I think if anyone is going to get smited, it will be you."

"Don't remind me," Buffy said. "Okay, well cue embarrassment," she said giving Megan one more encouraging smile before pushing open the heavy doors that echoed off the stone walls of the church.

The blonde Slayer jumped when the wooden doors closed heavily behind her and she cursed herself for feeling so jumpy. She wasn't the one who was going to get busted for breaking and entering; her job was just to distract and she was pretty good at that. The church looked abandoned, and the flickering of candles that lined the walls gave it an eerie glow.

"Hello," Buffy called. "Priest guy, I have some professing of my sins to do."

Getting no response, she walked further into the building, hoping that the Priest wouldn't be waiting in his office. She figured she should probably check that out, kicking herself that the two of them hadn't even considered that possibility before going in. At least if he was in there she could lure him out and give Megan the chance to get in and grab the book. Heading towards where she assumed his office would be located, she was so focused on her destination she stumbled over the wooden pew that protruded out into the walkway.

Throwing her hands forward to break her fall, the blonde Slayer's eyes widened as her fall slowed as if in slow motion and the formerly solid ground opened up into a familiar pulsing green portal. As she felt her body pulled into the bright green light, she hoped Megan would be able to figure the case out on her own and that she would be able to fight off the pulls of her disease even after the mystery woman who promised to help her suddenly disappeared.

She only hoped that she would somehow find her way home with this portal jump.

"This is seriously getting old."

Chapter 9: Rockstar

Author: Bobbi

Rated: NC-17

Buffy hurtled through the portal, most things a blur, as she sped through the swirling lights and wind. She could see nothing clearly, but then suddenly a dark mass came into view, heading right for her. She did her best to assume a fighting stance, but since her movements were not her own, she wasn't exactly successful.

The figure turned out to be a man and as she got closer to him he began to look familiar. He slammed into her, hip to hip, and as the blonde hurtled off, the Slayer could scarcely believe her own eyes.

"Scott Bakula?"

Then there was no time to ponder any of the details as the pinpoint of light spread out into what seemed to be an exit. She was hoping to land softly, but that hope was dashed when she emerged with her arms flailing as she tried to prevent herself from falling. She crashed hard into a clump of bushes that were all bushy and leafy.

There was music blasting nearby and Buffy sat up carefully, peering over and through the sticks and the leaves to see Faith smiling and dancing as she Milli Vanilli-ed her way through some rock song while a bunch of people gathered around and filmed it.

"...with the latest dictionary and today's who's who..."

She was moving all Faith-like, dimples flashing as she danced, pouted, and generally sexed it up while the music continued to play.

"...They'll get you anything with that evil smile..."

"Cut!"

Some guy, Buffy assumed he was the director, halted the proceedings as he went over and spoke to Faith. She nodded and sat down alongside the pool, leaning back on her hands.

"Perfect. Action!"

"...'Cause we all just-a wanna be big rock stars, and live in hilltop houses, driving fifteen cars. The girls come easy and the drugs come cheap..."

Buffy couldn't believe what she was seeing. Faith looked so beautiful and sexy...not that she didn't always, but this was different. She appeared to be more self-assured and mature...She looked happy.

"...they'll get you anything with that evil smile. Everybody's got a drug dealer on speed dial..."

The change of position didn't stop Faith from smiling, pouting, and generally sexing it up until the director again yelled out:

"Cut! I think we've got it. Nice job, Eliza."

"Thanks. You guys were slammin' too."

She hopped to her feet all easy and relaxed as she went around thanking everyone personally — laughing, offering and accepting hugs, cracking jokes, signing autographs, and making it crystal clear just how well-liked she was by this group of people.

"..., but I am glad it's done. I can't wait to see who's in the final cut."

The director came over to her, shaking her hand and then hugging her close.

"Thanks for doing this on such short notice. Chad adores you and refused the concept if you weren't going to be in it."

"Better me than some Crackhead Sally. It was fun, tell him thanks for thinking of me."

"You're a class act, Dushku. Pack it up fast people, we need to head over to Nugent's while we've still got daylight!"

In a matter of minutes the crew had dispersed and Buffy was standing up shakily. Faith had already headed into the house and Buffy looked around confused. She felt...weird, and as she tried to figure it out, Faith came back out in a barely-there bikini.

Buffy had never seen anything so stunningly beautiful and her clothes suddenly felt too tight, especially in the crotch area of her pants.

"Ow."

Buffy looked down to see that she was sporting an enormous erection.

"Okay, a definite 'Ow' followed by a panicked: 'Huh'?"

Her hand lowered to grab the totally out of place bulge between her legs. That was of course the worst possible moment that Faith could finally take notice of her, so of course that was exactly when she did.

"Sarah!"

Buffy whirled to look behind herself, her blonde hair twirling into her eyes, her erection swinging solidly with her. There was no one there, but Faith was already rushing over, a huge smile on her face.

"What are you doing here and why are you skulking around in the yard?"

"Um..."

"Come here, you!"

Faith's arms were spread wide as she came in fast for a hug, but Buffy backed up quickly, keeping the bushes between her sister-Slayer and herself. Faith frowned at the evasive maneuver.

"Hey girlfriend, what's wrong? Sarah?"

The brunette's concern was obvious as she stared at the Californian, the Californian who at the moment felt like she was from Mars...which would technically make her a "Marsonian".

"Why do you keep calling me 'Sarah'?"

"Why do I keep call...Because that's your name. S, are you feeling okay?"

Buffy stayed where she was, her erection stiffening as Faith's bikini top shifted just enough to allow a little more breast to expose itself.

"And since when do you call me 'S'? Is that for 'Slayer'?"

"'Slayer'? S is for Sarah or even Smidge if ya wanna go there. Look, it's wicked hot out. Let's get you into the house and cooled off. I'll call Jr. and he can..."

"Spike? Why in the hell would you call Spike?"

Faith tried edging closer, but Buffy slid away, making sure to keep some distance between them.

"He's your husband."

"I'm not married to Spike!"

"Freddie, Sarah, Freddie Prinze. Sweet guy you got hitched to."

Buffy tried to remember.

"Chino and the Man? Isn't he dead?"

Faith moved quickly, lunging for and capturing the slender girl's sinewy arm. Her grip was strong, but nowhere near full Slayer strength, and somehow that lack of force put the ex-cheerleader at ease...at least as much as she could be under the circumstance.

"I think maybe you've got some sunstroke or something. Just come inside with me and we'll figure out who to call."

"We need to call Giles, he'll know what to do."

"Giles? Uh yeah, right...of course. We'll call Giles just as soon as we get you settled."

She linked their hands together and hauled a reluctant Buffy out of the bushes as she headed towards the house. It was tough for Buffy to keep up because every step rubbed her hard penis against her soft pants, and unfortunately trailing behind Faith as her ass bounced and peeked out of her bikini bottoms with every step, made Buffy's own progress increasingly difficult.

They entered the house through the French doors that led out onto the pool deck, and it took just a second for Buffy's eyes to adjust to the change in light.

"Okay, just sit right here, maybe take off your top."

Faith flipped a switch and the ceiling fan began rotating.

"I'll lower the thermostat and get you something to drink and a cold rag. Just sit tight."

Buffy plopped down on the sofa, instantly grabbing a pillow to place over her bulging crotch. She hollered out after the Boston Girl:

"Don't forget the phone so we can call Giles!"

"I'm on it. Be right back."

Buffy looked around at her surroundings, impressed by the casual elegance mixed with the earthy touches. It was comfortable, true, but it was classy too, and Buffy knew at a glance that Faith was crashing at some Sugar Daddy's house. The whole thing disgusted her, but then she had no idea where she was or how she'd gotten there, so perhaps judging Faith shouldn't really be on her agenda at the moment. She had bigger problems, like what seemed to be a man package in her soft, stonewashed pants.

Faith came back into the room carrying a couple of bottles of Gatorade, one orange and one blue. She sat down next to the Bewildered Blonde and held up Dr. Cade's invention.

"Which one? And you've got to drink the whole thing."

Buffy took the orange one; it was the only flavor she liked. She was thirsty, but her confusion was what was bothering her the most...well, except for the previously mentioned man package in her previously mentioned soft, stonewashed blue jean pants. The whole idea was freaking her out and she lashed out much more harshly than she'd intended to when Faith laid the cold rag on the back of her neck.

"So whose house are we in? Some random guy you picked up last night?"

Faith's face revealed her shock at the comment.

"Damn, thanks for calling me a whore. This is my house, Sarah, bought and paid for with my own money. Granted, I call it: 'The House That Buffy Built', but I did work hard for it, you know?"

Buffy looked at her like she was Faith, the Crazy Chosen One.

"Xander's the carpenter, and I think you'd better drink the other Gatorade. You're not making much sense and it was you who was dancing around in the sun when I got here."

Faith's worry was plain to see, but she opened up her bottle of Electrolyte Replenisher and took a huge swig.

"I'm drinking mine, your turn now."

Buffy took a small sip, unwilling to consume too much liquid because the idea of peeing through a penis seemed pretty daunting. Would she sit or stand? She didn't know and she didn't want to find out.

"Hey!"

Faith's expression was stern:

"You've got to drink it all, so don't make me get rough with you."

Buffy instantly bristled.

"Don't threaten me, Faith. I'm not in the mood and you know I can kick your ass any time I want to."

The dark-haired woman laughed.

"Yeah, you're a real tough guy. What are you — like 99 pounds soaking wet?"

"What I am, Faith, is the Head Slayer, so stop being stupid before I lose my temper."

The hostility in her voice was obvious and Faith broke into a slow smile that soon took over her whole face.

"Okay, I get it now. You're punking me, right? Where's the cameras?"

She stood up, looking around expectantly.

"Come on, Kutcher! This makes twice you've punked me, and I think I've been a good sport about it both times."

"I have no idea what 'punking you' means, but if you don't sit down and stop talking to non-existent people, I'm going to start punching you."

Faith waved off her threat and began stomping around angrily.

"You've got three seconds to show yourself, Scumbag, or you can forget about me giving you permission to use this footage! I'm not kidding, I'll call my lawyer. Get out here...now!!!"

"Faith, I'm not going to tell you again to sit down."

The Southie Homeowner's anger quickly turned to fear when she realized that no one else was there and the situation was no gag. Buffy saw her terror and wrongly assumed that Faith was scared of her, thereby making an ass of herself.

Yeah, she'd better be scared because I am in no mood and my testosterone level must be off the charts.

But the main thing that Buffy noticed was that her erection, which had pretty much deflated, was now a solid chubby and well on its way to becoming a full-blown woody. Her pants were uncomfortably tight again, and as Faith sat back down next to her, Buffy shifted looking for some relief.

Note to self: Aggressive, angry Faith is still all kinds of hot.

Buffy finished up her Gatorade when the other girl stared pointedly at the bottle, then looked for a place to sit it down. The Drink Server took the flimsy, empty, 84% recycled plastic bottle of Thirst Quencher from the Elder Chick's hand.

"Do you think you can drink another one?"

She decided to pacify the Once Again Delusional Formerly Rogue Slayer.

"I'm feeling much better now. Let's wait a few minutes, okay?"

"Yeah, okay. So why don't I make some calls and..."

Faith leaned over Buffy to grab the cordless phone, her breasts rubbing against the pillow on the blonde's lap. And oh Sweet Fancy Moses...

Buffy's new addition swelled and became rock hard just like that, skipping the various stages on the Erection Chart to head right to "Big Monster Boner." It took every bit of her willpower not to push Faith's back down into the pillow and begin thrusting up against her.

"Shit. I think forgot to put it in the charger."

She began squirming as she peered intently at the phone, pushing various buttons, including Buffy's, while sprawling across the Golden Girl's Hard-On Cover, cleverly disguised as a common throw pillow.

"Okay, not really a problem, so much as a snafu. We can just use the phone in my..."

Her breasts rubbed and pressed with delicious pressure again as she leaned heavily on the pillow in order to reach the charger. Buffy moaned loudly, biting down on her lip to stifle the noise that had already escaped, and Faith instantly sat up. Her thick brown hair fell softly into her eyes, and she brushed the wavy tresses aside and leaned in, her face way too close to Buffy's for comfort.

"Sarah, what's wrong? Are you hurt?"

"...No, I..."

"Hold still."

Faith's hands began examining Buffy's body slowly and gently with slow, gentle touches and strokes, and Buffy felt like she was going to explode. She stood up fast, jerking away from Faith's exploration, careful to keep her back to her.

"I'm fine."

"You don't feel hot, but maybe we should take your temperature to see if it's high."

"I'm not hot, I just need to use the bathroom."

Faith chuckled.

"Oh, sorry, I guess I was leaning on your bladder. Just go right down the hall, it's the last door on the left. Why don't you take a cold shower while you're in there? Towels are in the closet."

"I said I'm fine, Faith."

Buffy headed for the bathroom, the huge and stiff log between her legs making her walk with a weird, mincing swagger.

"Right. So is that why you're walking like Helo?"

"Who-o?"

"Helo from BSG."

Buffy shook her head and kept moving.

"Right, that totally clears it up."

"You don't watch Battlestar? Woulda thought Freddie'd be all over that show."

Buffy muttered to herself: "What kind of stupid name is 'Freddie' anyway? Isn't he the blonde on Scooby Doo?"

She passed quickly through the bedroom and made it to the safety of the bathroom where she closed and locked the heavy wooden door. She unbuttoned and unzipped her pants while pushing against her bulge to keep it safely out of the way. As she slid her external and under pants down, her penis popped blessedly free in all its glory.

The first thing she felt was relief that she was no longer confined, and the second thing she felt was shocked that confinement was even an issue. She, Buffy Summers, had a penis and it was huge or at least it looked that way from her vantage point. Maybe it really wasn't that big. Maybe when looked at from above, it just seemed a lot bigger than its actual size...which would explain so very much about men.

The bottom line was it didn't really matter how large it was or wasn't because it was crazy big when it was hanging between Buffy's legs. She'd been penis free her entire life and she had expected things to continue in a similar vein for...

"And oh Good God, speaking of veins..."

She could feel herself starting to freak out and she splashed cold water onto her face.

"Okay, don't panic. There's got to be a logical reason why I have a 50 foot penis today."

The petite girl looked at herself in the almost full-length mirror that reflected the spacious room back to her. She tilted her head, first to one side, then the other, turning her body and observing her cock from every angle. She lifted the Old Anaconda gingerly, then with more certainty, studying her testicles too. It really didn't look so bad when she took it on its own merits.

All things considered, it was actually a very nice looking penis, as far as penises...peni...a penis went, and although it was totally out of proportion with her tiny frame, it somehow looked like her. All pretty and smooth and girly...

"Except it's a penis, Buffy, and a penis is usually worn by a man. I just wish I knew what was going on here."

There was the soft sound of a small explosion and the blonde Bedicked One whirled to face the noise, her johnson swinging and dancing along for the ride.

At first she saw nothing, but then movement caught her eye. There was some kind of insect flitting around, almost too fast for her Slayer vision to follow. She noticed it had sparkly sparkles trailing behind it, an incredibly pretty sight even though the Slayer in her had already been aroused. She stood at the ready because she was.

The bug flew at her fast and she barely restrained herself from punching out or at least catching the little pest in her small, but powerful fist. It stopped on an infinitesimal insect dime, hovering at eye level. It was too close and the golden haired Slayer pulled her head back so that her eyes could focus. What she saw had her shaking that pulled back head, unwilling to believe those focused eyes.

It wasn't a bug, but a fairy...a tiny, delicate, magical fairy that looked exactly like Sean Connery sans wig, although copious amounts of chest hair tufts were included. It was decked out in a frilly, pink tutu and holding tight to a tiny little wand.

"What exactly are you?"

"Lishen up, lash. I cannae schpend long."

The fairy, who was also smoking a cigar — obviously it had been hot embers and dirty ashes flying behind it, not pretty fairy dust — explained everything to Buffy. The reason she had a penis, how her collision with the "Croatian" inside the portal had mixed up their genders, genitally speaking, and how her penis wasn't going away until she had intercourse several times and basically screwed it out of existence.

The problem was: Buffy couldn't understand one word thanks to the thick Scottish brogue and the presence of Sean Conneryish dentures.

"I can't understand you at all. Could you maybe take the cigar out of your mouth and try to speak up? Why do I have a...OW!!!"

The fairy was already irritated that it had been sent to help the Slayer in the first place, and her stupidity didn't exactly endear her to the Scottish Bald One. It poked her in the eye with its wand and was heading back in with its cigar blazing, so Buffy instinctively backhanded it into the empty whirlpool tub. She felt bad until she realized her eye was still watering.

She bent down to look at the filthy, flitty fairy and it seemed okay, just unconscious. She placed a chunk of cotton ball under its shiny pate and covered it up to its neck with a piece of toilet paper. She graciously tucked it carefully around the little pest, then picked up its still smoldering cigar. She tossed it into the toilet, barely able to discern the modest fizzle the flame made when it hit the water.

"You're lucky I'm a Bond fan, although I prefer the new guy"

"Hey, you okay in there?"

She jumped at the concerned knock on the door.

"What?"

"I heard you yell and..."

"No, I'm fine. The uh...the water was colder than I expected."

"Oh, okay. Take your time, yeah?"

Buffy turned on the sink and splashed some more water onto her face. She dried off with one of the most luxurious green striped towels she'd ever felt. She smiled as she remembered a blue one from years ago that was even better. Finally non-moist, she blew out a deep breath.

"Okay Buffy, put your pants back on one leg at a time and get out there. Just tell her what's happened matter of factly and try not to kill her when she laughs herself sick. It's probably not her fault that she's lost her memory and doesn't remember I'd be happy to kill her even if we were having a "penis free" time. Just concentrate on getting Giles and Will here to help us."

It was a good plan, a solid plan, and Buffy stepped into her underwear and...She looked totally perverted. It was too big and kept falling out, plus being covered in silky black lace was not a good look, at least not to the Golden Penis Sporter.

She took them back off and shoved them into her pants pocket, then put those same pants on. Everything was fine until it came to the zipping up part.

"Ouch."

The feeling of metal teeth against her appendage made her flinch even though she wasn't remotely close to "Franks and Beaning" it. She shifted to the other side, then flinched again. She struggled to shove it down, thankful that she was finally flaccid, but no matter how hard she tried, she still couldn't manage to get it to stay inside her pants. Not remotely comfortably anyway.

She looked in the mirror and even holding her shirt front down over it, it was still apparent that she was packing the beginnings of a chubby.

"Terrific."

She gave up on her pants and wrapped the Runner-Up Towel of Stripes around her waist. She unlocked the door, determined to handle the incredibly awkward situation with nothing but a calm maturity.

Faith was reclining on the bed, leaning on some pillows that were propped against the headboard. One of her hands held a cordless phone, the other absentmindedly rubbed slowly back and forth against the soft, flat, tanned skin of her stomach.

Buffy's Second All-Time Favorite Towel tented like there was a large pole underneath it and she was harder than she had ever been in the last sixteen minutes. Faith looked like sex...sex on a bed...sex on her back...sex on her stomach...sex any and everywhere...and Buffy could not look away.

"No, I'm fine. Okay thanks, I'll call you tomorrow. Bye."

The Sex Bomb disconnected the call with a smile and glanced at Buffy as she put the phone on her nightstand.

"I just had your old number, so I couldn't call Fre...Hey, what's with the towel? Did you decide to shower?"

Buffy said nothing, her eyes riveted to the tiny drawstring on Faith's hip as all of her Chosen Blood rushed to the tool standing hard and proud between her legs. It moved slightly by itself, pulling upward and making the stripes undulate in a way that left nothing to the imagination.

Pretzel brown eyes widened as they dipped below Buffy's waistline, her disbelieving expression easy to read.

"What the...Sarah, do you have...Is that a real hard-on?"

"Faith, look...but not like that! Okay...technically yes, okay...but it isn't mine!"

Eliza scrambled off the bed.

"But how...when...I mean, I've heard the rumors, sure, but I never..."

Buffy was indignant:

"'Rumors'? What 'rumors'?"

"You know, about you and other girls, but then you never tried anything with me so I just figured..."

"Did Scott Hope say something, because he should talk."

Eliza wasn't listening,

"We shared a fucking trailer! How could you hide a huge dick?!"

Buffy lit up with pride.

"So it is big then? I thought it was, but I couldn't be sure without actually measuring...Anyway, that doesn't matter. Now do you see why I need you to call Giles? The best I can figure out is that when I bumped into Scott Bakula in the portal..."

"You know Scott Bakula? Since when?"

"No, Faith, I don't know him. He bumped into me in the portal. Will you pay attention?"

"I'm trying to, but you're not making a lot of sense."

"The main point is that I have a penis, maybe his, and for all I know he's running around with my vagina doing who knows what with it. Well, I guess maybe you'd know, but don't even go there because I still don't want to hear it."

Eliza approached her slowly.

"Look, Sarah...You're not Buffy, okay? You're an actress, just like me, and Buffy and Faith are characters we played. Tell you what: I'm going to call this doctor I know. The guy's totally discreet, and I can guarantee that you won't be reading about any of this in the rags."

Buffy stood still while Eliza edged closer.

"So you've got a dick, lotsa chicks do. This is Cali, yeah? All kinds of people here and you don't have to be embarrassed, Sar, not with me. I would never disrespect like that, especially not when it's you."

She was close enough to gently stroke along Buffy's face, her hand softly caressing and smoothing along her cheek and eyebrow. Buffy's Phylum Chlorophyta kelp colored eyes closed, and then suddenly she issued a short, sharp yelp.

Eliza leapt back.

"Fuck! Did you just come?"

Buffy couldn't speak for a few seconds, but when she managed to gather her wits, she nodded and went on the attack.

"It's your fault! Why did you have to touch me like that?"

"I was trying to comfort you! How'd I know you were gonna explode like a teenager?"

"Eew! It's on my shirt and the towel."

Eliza was already opening a dresser drawer.

"Yeah, just toss both of them. I've got an oversized shirt you can wear."

Buffy took off her soiled top carefully, then folded the stained portion inward to keep it contained. She used an unsullied portion of the towel to clean up, then wrapped everything in the abused green bath linen. She was embarrassed, but grateful that the painful pressure had finally abated in an explosion of semen that could have put someone's eye out if she hadn't been covered in the second most absorbent towel she'd ever known.

Eliza walked over to hand her the new shirt, and the breeze that simple action created had Buffy stiffening again.

"Stop!"

Eliza did, her eyes roaming up and down Buffy's body. The feminine curves, the smooth muscles of her shoulders, the soft golden hair covering her toned arms, the tanned skin that was without lines, the small but big enough breasts, the surprisingly full hips that flanked the large penis that was continuing to grow...

"Geez, Sar, you're really rockin' that thing. It's definitely the best looking cock I've ever seen. Kinda pretty somehow, all girly but wicked strong, just like you."

"I know, that's what I thought too. It's weird how it seems to..."

Eliza sucked in a breath and it caused her breasts to lift and Buffy's penis to harden.

"Stop moving, Faith. Just throw me the shirt and put something else on."

"Sure, but I'm going to have to move to get it."

"Go ahead, then we need to get Giles over here. You said we're in California, right?"

Eliza had returned to her dresser, her back to Buffy as she spoke.

"Yeah, we are. I thought for sure you were in the Big Apple last I heard. Kind of lost track after..."

Buffy wasn't listening to a word the California Bostonian said because she was putting something on by reaching for the drawstring of her bikini top. Before Buffy could stop her, she pulled and the top fell unimpeded to the floor. Eliza heard the now familiar moan and turned to see Buffy coming again.

"Jesus, Sarah!"

Buffy's head was flung back, her eyes closed tight. When she opened them, they were the color of a half full, glass bottle of ginger ale as they focused on the other woman who had turned around, awkwardly holding her bikini top in front of her breasts under her crossed arms.

"Faith...I can't...I need you."

"Me?! Sar, I don't swing that way, you know that."

"There's no swinging involved, not when I have this."

"Yeah, but it's...I..."

Buffy interrupted her:

"You can't deny there's been something between us right from the start."

"Well yeah, I guess. I mean, you were really nice to me from Day One on the set, but..."

"Faith, I could list a hundred..."

That was it; Eliza had reached her limit. She strode over to the little lesbian, ignoring the way Buffy's one-eyed monster seemed to be watching her approach.

"Sarah, listen to me! I am not Faith, you are not Buffy. We're actresses and there's nothing between us, okay? You're mixing up the subtext we deliberately created for a TV show with real life. We were just acting. All we had was a friendly working relationship and we haven't even seen each other in years. You're married to a man who I guess maybe lets you indulge sometimes, but I'm as straight as..."

Buffy pulled her in and kissed her, and to Eliza's surprise, she kissed her back without hesitation. She suddenly felt firsthand what else The Actress Two had between them, and she wrapped her arms around the miniature blonde with the massive ten-inch boner.

Her hands slid under the borrowed tee shirt, her fingers gliding along the soft skin and wisping over the tiny delicate hairs that rested in the small of the smaller girl's back. She felt a strong hand slip slowly into her bikini bottoms, and it was then Eliza's turn to moan.

"S, we shouldn't do this. You're..."

"Shhh...Please, Faith..."

The desire that surged through the Seasons 3, 4, and 7 Co-Star at that simple plea shocked her...and then the most incredible thing happened.

Buffy easily lifted Eliza up into her arms and began kissing her again as she carried her over to the bed. The larger woman managed to work her mouth free and struggled to speak as Buffy's lips travelled down her neck, nibbling and biting and leaving little marks of tiny Slayer teeth behind for anyone to see.

Her first attempt at talking emerged as a long, drawn out moan of ecstasy, but then some actual words broke through:

"Smaller...pick...tulips...pizza...way...can..."

She wasn't at all coherent as Buffy laid her gently on the bed, her lips back to ravishing Eliza's. The supine girl tried again.

"How can you carry me?"

"Slayer here...remember?"

And then Buffy's mouth was at her breasts, licking, sucking, biting hard so gently. Eliza's body twisted with pleasure, thrusting up against Buffy's and the itty bitty blonde's reaction was instant and desperate.

"Oh God...don't move, F."

They stayed still until Buffy smiled at her.

"See, I'm a quick learner. My prematurity is finally under control."

She leaned back down and Eliza whispered into her ear: "You feel so good..."

Buffy yelped, her whole body stiffening as she came against her borrowed shirt. Eliza laughed, which had Buffy hardening again before she'd even managed to go limp.

"Damn, you've got some kind of cock on you. I'm not an expert or anything, but I know enough about human physiology to know that it's just not possible for anyone to..."

Buffy sat up and removed her shirt, rolling it into a ball and tossing it onto the rapidly growing pile.

"I think it must be a Slayer thing. God, can you imagine the conversation I'm going to have to have with Giles?"

That reminded the So Far in the Closet it Must Have Been A Huge Walk-In brunette just what was happening and with whom, and she decided to stop things right in their tracks. Sarah was acting on the feelings Buffy and Faith had for each other. She was confused and there was no way Eliza should be letting this go on.

"Yeah, I'll have to imagine it because Giles isn't real. He's played by Tony..."

Buffy's mouth shut hers, and Little Miss Hard and Mighty felt bad about it. She shouldn't be doing this, not when Faith didn't know who she was. Even though she knew the Reformed Slayer would rejoice and be completely into the moment if she was at all herself, she wasn't at all herself, and that made what Buffy was doing wrong...way, wicked hot, wrong.

The Kendra Caller began to pull away, but Eliza tightened her grip and deepened their kiss. She wrapped her legs around her waist...Buffy's, not her own...and her passion seemed to increase as she made her decision.

She wanted Sarah, even more than a hybrid car, and she was going to have her...third leg and all.

It was so obvious now that the brunette definitely had the hots for her diminutive costar and probably always had. Even though she'd been unaware of any such feeling, she was way too turned on for this to be a new emotion. The feeling she had was like she was realizing a lifelong dream, although she seriously doubted that she'd ever imagined a penis that blew its load if she just looked at it sideways. What she did know for sure was that her sudden sexual attraction wasn't sudden at all when she looked at it logically.

Sarah was the epitome of class — on the set, in the media, and in her life. She was tough and didn't take shit from anybody, but she knew how to play the game almost effortlessly. She projected confidence and professionalism, and her kindness to crew members, especially the "lesser" people on the set, was legendary. She'd had a few scuffles over the years with a few co-stars, but she rarely spoke about them in public, preferring to maintain her dignity while she let her blazing talent or her lawyer do her talking for her.

Eliza had been a fan before she'd even met her, watching every show and movie she'd ever done, even her commercial work as a child. Nothing would ever top when the Boston Market Lover had been surfing the web on her laptop, not her desktop, and had stumbled upon an adorably feisty five year old Sarah explaining why Burger King was so much better than McDonald's. Even back then it was obvious that Sarah had it, whatever "it" was, and it was just as clear that she did not suffer fools gladly nor would she put up with bad behavior on the set...not even her own childish tantrums.

Eliza considered Sarah both a peer and a role model for how one should conduct one's business in one's Chosen Career. However, despite all of her best attempts, the Sister With Three Older Brothers had never quite managed to work the job as gracefully as Sarah did, even though she too had been in the industry forever.

SMG was the real deal, and Eliza's case of hero worship had only intensified as she had begun working with and getting to know the blonde star of the show who despite her seeming openness, had obviously managed to keep some things to herself...one of which was currently poking Rhymes With Pushku in the leg. The woman the Thigh Bruiser was attached to was busy stroking one of Eliza's nipples with her nimble fingers while her mouth sucked on the other one like an out-of-the-box Hoover vacuum cleaner with attachments.

The Underrated Actress knew logic was originally supposed to play a part in her thought process somehow, but she had forgotten that as if it had been stupid. All she knew now was that she was fully prepared to go all the way with another woman for the first time in her life, and the fact that that other woman had a penis? It felt nothing but right and hard. She was long past pretending she was going to put a stop to this moment, well, at least three or four minutes past pretending.

Eliza roughly pulled Buffy's head up for a kiss, their tongues dancing and sliding as they explored. Buffy yanked on the drawstring of Eliza's bikini bottoms, and received a slight shimmy to help her pull them out from under. Buffy's answer was to groan and bite down on her lip, willing herself not to shoot off another copious load as she pulled the bottoms out from under.

"I've wanted this for so long, Faith."

They could both feel Buffy's penis bumping around Eliza's entrance, and Buffy actually whinnied at the sensation:

"..."

"Do we need a protection?"

The question barely registered with Buffy.

"What?"

Eliza kissed her neck, then asked again:

"Do we need a rubber?"

"No, I'm on the pill."

"Excuse me? You're the one with the third leg, lady."

Buffy flushed with embarrassment at her gaffe, then felt her desire rising to a new and fevered pitch at the thought of delicately blowing a load off in Faith.

"Sorry, I forgot."

"It's okay. So?"

"I don't know what you're asking me, Faith."

"Can you get girls pregnant?"

Buffy rolled her eyes.

"How would I know? I've only had this thing for about half an hour."

"Sarah..."

Eliza wanted to point out that she'd had it a lot longer than that, but what was the point? They both knew that penises...peni...a penis didn't just suddenly appear on a woman one day, and yet Sarah was keeping it up...the pretense and the penis.

"You probably can't, but let's be safe. Plus, it might help you hold off a little longer too."

Eliza's hand flung blindly to her nightstand drawer. She opened it and awkwardly reached inside, pulling out several condoms at once. Most hit the floor, but she managed to hang onto a few. She quickly shuffled through them, then handed Buffy a gold packaged one.

"Here, a Magnum should fit you."

Buffy took the package and ripped it open, then realized that she had no hope of getting it on. Not only had she rarely dressed anybody in one, the angle now was completely different and confusing for a non-expert.

"I can't."

"What?"

"I don't think I can."

Eliza smiled and grabbed another one that had fallen onto the mattress, tearing the foil open with her white teeth as she half sat up. She expertly took hold of the condom and began rolling it on, but Buffy pulled away.

"Wait! You can't do that."

"Sure I can, just hold still a sec."

"No, Faith..."

Eliza had the tip covered and began leading the condom the rest of the way when Buffy stiffened and came.

"Jesus, again?"

Buffy's head had fallen to her chest, and it took several moments before she looked up shyly through her golden spikes formerly known as "eyelashes".

"Sorry, but your hand was all soft and warm and..."

Eliza removed the Latex Birth Control Device and tied it off. She tossed it into the trashcan next to her bed and returned her attention to the women straddling her.

"I'm on the pill anyway, I just wanted to be extra careful. This whole deal's really strange for me, no offense."

"None taken, and trust me: you don't know strange until you're the one with the penis and another set of twins."

"I'd offer to feel them up for you, but I don't think you could take it."

"Probably not because just you saying that made them kind of clench."

Eliza chuckled again, but Buffy's face was nothing but serious.

"I think maybe I'm being a bad lover. Let's concentrate on you for a while."

"Don't worry about it. I'm already so wet I..."

Buffy disappeared between Eliza's legs, and with the first swipe the brunette knew she was in the hands of a master Eater Outer. Sarah obviously knew her way around anatomy of the female kind, and she had the Southie coming at will. After her second orgasm, Eliza surrendered.

"You need to stop unless you're trying to kill me."

Buffy rose up to meet her, face to shiny face.

"I so want to be inside you."

"Go for it."

Buffy did, or at least she tried to, but it wasn't as easy as it seemed. Her rod wasn't all that controllable when it came to the actual entry part of sex, and her frustration was mounting as she tried to mount. Eliza's legs kept moving, shifting this way and that as she impatiently thrust up to rub against the Head Slayer's head.

"Stop teasing me!"

"I'm not!"

Eliza's diluted whiskey colored eyes opened and she saw at a glance what the problem was.

"Aww...I've got you covered, baby."

Eliza took hold of Sarah's shoulders and forcefully put herself on top...except Buffy didn't move a muscle.

"Stop trying to top me, F."

"I'm just trying to make it easier, but how come you're stronger than me now?"

Buffy couldn't wait any longer and she reached down and grabbed hold of her penis.

"Hold still, I'm going in."

It was awkward and fumbling, but she was a woman of her word and she ejaculated the second she hit the halfway point.

"God!"

Eliza waited, holding Buffy close.

"Shh...we're not in a hurry. Just stay right there."

Buffy hardened again in less than a minute and she began thrusting slowly.

"You're so hot and tight."

"And you're so big and hard."

Buffy's body tensed, present, but she was able to hang on.

"Okay, don't say stuff like that if you want to get any pleasure out of this."

The Vagina Wearer laughed.

"Just fuck me and let your dick do its thing."

Buffy exploded again, but her erection came back as she felt Eliza's legs wrapping around her waist.

"Come on, you're not even all the way in. Let me have it, every inch of you."

Buffy shuddered and groaned, determined to stay hard for more than ten seconds. She pushed and sunk in another inch, then waited until the tremors passed.

"Tell you what: you fuck me like I know you can, and I'll pinch you off if I can get there in time."

"Does that work?"

Eliza chuckled low and sexy, making the Golden Girl's whole unit twitch.

"Sometimes. Or maybe you could recite the Gettysburg Address. Had a guy do that once."

"Did it work?"

"Nope, plus the dumbass was reeling off chunks of the Declaration of Independence."

Buffy laughed, still hard and barely able to believe how wonderful it felt to be buried deep inside of Faith.

"So...show me what it means to be a woman."

She accompanied that statement with a wriggle of her hips and a tightening of her legs around her waist...Buffy's, not her own...and Buffy went for it.

She began drilling Faith, coming without any discernable lapse in her hardness. Faith started off in control, but soon fell into an incomprehensible ecstasy. She was getting the fucking of her life, and at first it was her own hand that kept getting her off until Buffy got the hang of it and shoved the Dark Masturbator's digits aside and used her own fingers.

Eliza felt wild, out of control like never before, and at first she matched Buffy stroke for stroke, bang for fuck, but then Buffy blew right past her. She was moving too fast, too hard, in a way that once again seemed humanly impossible.

Eliza kissed her, then whispered into her ear:

"Slow down a little."

"...What?"

"You're starting to hurt me."

Buffy stopped instantly and tried to pull out with a puzzled and horrified look on her face, but Eliza wrapped all four of her arms and legs around her Inhuman Lover.

"I didn't say get out, I said slow down. There's a big difference."

"I don't want to hurt you, Faith...but I'm not even going full force yet."

"How is that possible?"

Buffy looked at her:

"I'm a Slayer, just like you. Why can't you take it?"

"Well, I guess ten inches is my biggest, plus I've never had anybody who could push so hard and fast. It feels good, but you were getting a little rough."

"Sorry. I'll try to be gentle."

Eliza kissed her, then bite down on Buffy's lip.

"But not too gentle. I like it when you get all aggressive."

They had sex in several positions and Eliza was exhausted, her sweaty head resting on her torn to shreds pillow, a few of its feathers stuck to her neck, breast, forehead, and elbow.

Buffy was currently sprawled on her side, one hand propping up her head, the other slowly trailing a feather down Eliza's body.

"Let me know when you're ready again."

Eliza opened one eye to look at her disbelievingly.

"Holy fuck, you're a machine. I feel like I need new batteries or something."

"Well, you're definitely going to need every ounce of your Slayer stamina."

"I've got no 'Slayer stamina', but I am big with the yoga now."

Buffy laughed:

"And I'm still big with the yogurt, so..."

Now it was Eliza's turn to laugh.

"Damn, that's got to be one of the worst ones."

"What?"

"Used to know a guy who called it his: 'Baldheaded Yogurt Slinger'."

"Faith, that's disgusting."

"Yeah, plus that thing was wicked small. Nothing like this baby."

Her hand slid down to lightly encircle Buffy's pretty peen.

"God, don't jerk or I'm going to..."

"Maybe I want you to."

"Faith, I mean it!"

"I mean it too. Let's see how long you can hold out, Stud."

There was amusement and a challenge in the brown eyes that met Buffy's green, determined peepers, and Little Miss Sunnydale rose to meet the challenge in every possible way. Eliza maneuvered them until Buffy was on her back and she was straddling her, her fingers trailing all around every sensitive spot Penis Girl had.

"Okay, now here's the rules..."

She entwined her hands with Buffy's and steered them up to the wrought iron headboard, encouraging her to grasp onto the thick bars. Satisfied, she trailed her own hands back down Buffy's body.

"Now no matter what I do, you can't take your hands off the bars. You've got to try not to come, and even though you're doing way better with that whole self-control thing, well, I'm not going to be unreasonable. If you come a few times, that's cool. I'm going to grade you on a curve."

"I don't know if I..."

Eliza began kissing a path down the trepidatious Slayer's body.

"Don't you wanna make me happy?"

Buffy groaned out "yes" as Eliza's lips hovered over already quivering penis. A soft kiss was Buffy's reward.

"That's my good girl."

Buffy totally lost track of time and space. All there was for her was the delicious torment that "Faith" was dishing out, a pleasure so great, it bordered on pain. Buffy fought with everything she had to hang onto the headboard. She was the Slayer after all and she didn't back down from a challenge, not even one that made her shake, sweat, plead, moan and spray her seed all over the place even as she fought for control.

She did pretty well, her shiny, new penis sometimes following her commands, but it soon became clear to both of them that the woman toying with her could make The Slayer come whenever she wanted her to. And it came as no surprise to Buffy that her mean as a snake lover loved the power she had over her. The brunette teased, tortured and generally made Buffy dance for her like a trained monkey...and Buffy loved every second of it.

When Buffy's Sexy Trainer was finally finished with her, she collapsed on top of her Capuchin-like victim.

"Damn, I could get used to this."

Buffy's voice emerged shakily:

"Me too. I think I might finally be done."

Eliza laughed, then kissed Buffy's cheek.

"You know I can make you hard if I want to."

"Yes."

"Hey, you can let go of the headboard now."

"I don't think I can."

Eliza kissed her again, then slid up to help Buffy uncurl her fingers.

"Holy fuck! What...How..."

The panic in Eliza's voice had Buffy pulling her hands loose and looking at what she was looking at.

The headboard was trashed, the thick powerful bars twisted and mangled like a Slayer had been clinging to them as she tried not to grab her lover and fuck her brains out.

"Sorry. I didn't realize I was..."

"'Sorry'?! 'Sorry'?! What the fuck are you saying?"

"Well gee, why don't you overreact? You knew what could happen when you..."

Eliza's hand grabbed Buffy's chin and looked her in the eye.

"B?"

"What?"

"Holy fuck...You are Buffy."

Buffy smiled: "You got your memory back!"

Eliza looked like she was going to faint. "No I didn't. I...How...How can you be Buffy?"

"Faith, you're so pale. Are you okay?"

"Okay?"

Her voice rose to the point of hysteria.

"No, I'm nowhere near okay. Buffy isn't real!"

"I'm pretty real, although...Ow!"

Her yell snapped Eliza out of her shock.

"What's wrong?"

"...Nothing, not anymore."

Buffy looked down and then up, repeating the looks with a grin.

"I'm back to just 'Buffy' parts."

"You mean..."

"Yep, penis free and loving it."

Eliza reached down and when she encountered a vagina, she pulled back in shock.

"Your cock's gone."

"I just said that and you look even paler now. Stay right here, I'm going to get you something to drink."

She got up and walked out of the bedroom, her walk the walk Eliza remembered, not the bizarre and so irritating you wanted to slap the shit out of somebody, anybody, "Helo Prance" from before. She looked again at the destroyed headboard and thought back to how Sarah had picked her up and carried her so effortlessly, how Sarah had recovered her erection in rapid fire, impossible time, over and over again, how Sarah had made love too hard and too fast for any human to give or receive...

"Holy fucking shit, I just had sex with Buffy Summers...Buffy Summers with a ten inch machine of a cock. I must be going nuts."

Just seconds later Buffy walked back into the bedroom holding two bottles of Gatorade. She sat back down on the bed.

"Orange or blue."

"You can have the orange one."

Buffy smiled and opened the bottle for her, then handed it over.

"Drink it all, we lost a lot of fluids."

"You need about fifty then."

Buffy smacked her on the shoulder:

"Ooh gross! I meant 'sweat'."

They drank in silence until Eliza spoke up.

"So now what?"

"I don't know."

"This is crazy. You're Buffy."

"That I am. Would you be interested in being with me without the..."

"You can always buy those, Sa...Buffy. I'm pretty okay with you being a girl any way you want to do it. But right now I just can't wrap my head around the fact that you're really Buffy Summers."

The blonde scooted back and leaned up against Eliza, pulling on her arms until they wrapped around her miniscule frame as she leaned back against her large breasts.

"Your memory's coming back, which is of the good, and I'm sure Giles will know how to speed it up."

"Buffy...You're not...I don't think you're in your world."

"What do you mean?"

"I don't think this is where you belong."

"Okay, so maybe I skipped ahead in time a little bit, but it looks like my world and you're here."

"But nobody else you know is. I think the portal takes you to different realities or something. That's all that makes sense, if that's your particular brand of sense. For me it's about two years of twice a week therapy."

"So you're not my Faith?"

"I'm not anybody's 'Faith', not really."

Buffy turned to face her: "Damn. I wish you were."

"Why's that?"

Buffy raised her doppelganger lover's hand to her mouth and kissed the back of it.

"Because you're happy here. That sadness that's always in your eyes is gone, and you just seem so secure, so proud of who you are. I want that for my 'Faith', you know?"

Eliza felt the tears welling up.

"You should tell her that, Buffy, the very first chance you get."

"Right, like she'd want to hear it. She won't even let me in enough so that we can be friends. She's not interested in having any kind of relationship with me, let alone this."

Eliza lifted Buffy's chin until their eyes met.

"I can guarantee you that's not true. She loves you, Buffy, so much that she acts like an ass. Promise me the next time you see her, you'll ignore her bullshit and go after her."

"I wish you were right, but..."

"I am right. Trust me on this and don't let her stop you. You guys belong together and if you keep waiting on her, you'll never make it. You're the Head Slayer, the Chosen One, and you're going to have to do the work. Tell her that you love her, show her, Buffy. Promise?"

"I guess it's not like I have anything to lose except my self-respect, my pride, my heart...which she'll probably rip right out of my chest and stomp..."

Eliza kissed her, keeping Buffy within the circle of her arms when they pulled apart.

"Feel that? That's not a tenth of what Faith feels for you. Promise me, B."

"I promise. And I noticed the sneaky 'Faithspeak'."

Eliza nodded, happy to know that maybe the Slayers stood a chance.

"I'm not ashamed to fight dirty. So what happens now, Buffy?"

"I don't know. Maybe I should go back to where the portal dropped me off."

"That seems right."

Neither girl moved and neither was looking forward to parting.

"Yeah...We're sure handling this whole thing calmly."

"Well I was going to freak out, but I decided to just pretend it's a new role."

"Smart. And I've decided to do my famous 'Buffy Avoidance' thing. Plus, I'm the Slayer. Weird stuff happens every hour to me anyway."

"So we're good then."

They went silent again.

"Hey, I should shower before I go!"

Yeah, absolutely! That's probably a law when you're travelling by portal."

Buffy stood up with a smile.

"And I'm going to need to borrow a shirt if you..."

"Yeah, that's no problem. I've got plenty since you've stopped jerking off on them."

"Gross! Shut up."

Eliza got to her feet.

"I think I'd better join you in there."

"How come?"

"Well you know: we need to conserve water, the heads are kind of tricky to operate, I want you again, stuff like that."

Buffy smiled and reached out her hand.

"I saw how talented you are with heads. I definitely need your help..."

Eliza's grin was wicked as she grabbed onto Buffy's hand.

"...although I should warn you — we might have company."

"What do you mean?"

"I knocked out a fairy the last time I was in there."

"Do I even want to know?"

"Probably not."

"Then I'm just going to pretend I don't see anything and let the Slayer handle it."

"And she will...Count on it."

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They walked out to the hedges and as they got closer, the portal blazed on, the light and air swirling inside and around it.

"So you just hop in this thing?"

"Yep."

"How do you know where you're going to end up?"

"I don't, but how else can I ever get home? It's the only chance I've got."

Eliza nodded: "You could always stay here."

"But that doesn't really work, does it?"

"It could. I can be Faith for you, nobody does her better. I should've scored an Emmy."

Buffy raised her hand to caress Eliza's cheek.

"But I can't be the woman you love. I don't know her at all."

"Yeah, I know it's dumb."

"It's not dumb, Eliza. It's not dumb at all. You need to take your own advice and go after her."

"No, she's married to a good guy. I think she's happy and I wouldn't want to mess anything up for her."

Buffy smiled:

"And yet when you thought I was her..."

"Hey, she had a big penis. I figured their marriage was a cover or something, you know? Plus, you seduced me."

"That I did. Goodbye, Eliza."

"Goodbye, Buffy."

They kissed and it was hard for them to let go. Buffy finally pulled away and walked over to the portal.

"Which way did you prefer?"

"Which way?"

"The sex. Penis or not."

"Either way's five by five with me, B."

Buffy laughed.

"You sound just like her."

"Yep, I do a better Faith than Faith does."

"Be happy, Eliza."

"You too, Buffy. Remember your promise to me."

"I will. Well...here goes nothing!"

With a last wave and a smile, The Slayer jumped into the portal. It snapped closed and...

"...'Cause we all just-a wanna be big rock stars, and live in hilltop houses, driving fifteen cars. The girls come easy..."

"...they'll get you anything with that evil smile. Everybody's got a drug dealer on speed dial..."

"Cut! I think we've got it. Nice job, Eliza."

"Thanks. You guys were slammin' too."

She thanked the crew and said her goodbyes, glad the shoot was over. As everyone pulled away from her house, she stood by the pool looking out at the row of bushes that lined her property. She felt like something was missing, even though everything looked just like it was supposed to.

She stood there in anticipation for a few minutes, before finally shaking her head and laughing.

"All right, Dushku, shake it off...whatever 'it' is."

She went into her house, used the bathroom and put on her bikini. She was hot and a dip in the pool sounded just right. She headed outside, her gaze falling on the bushes again.

"Jesus, wanna marry them, Eliza?"

A thought popped into her head and she went back into the house. She picked up her phone only to find that the battery was dead because once again she'd forgotten to put it in the charger. She went into her bedroom, hopped onto the bed and made the call from there.

"Hi, Brad, it's me. Yeah, I'm fine. Look, I know it's kind of sudden, but I want out. No, it's nothing you did, you've been great. I've just been doing some thinking...Well you know me, brains and beauty too. Anyway, turns out you might not be the only gay person in our relationship. Hahaha! Yeah, a Penny for your thoughts. I'm not saying you're right, but I'm willing to entertain the idea you're not wrong. Yeah, I know, but I don't want a beard. I just want to check this out and be as real as I can be. Yeah, I'll be careful. I appreciate that. Sure, we'll just say we grew apart. Be happy, B...rad. See you around."

She disconnected the call, but still hung onto the phone in one hand as the other absentmindedly rubbed slowly back and forth against her stomach. She had the craziest idea out of nowhere, and she could feel the nervous thrill shoot through her body as she debated whether she should do it or not.

"Fuck it, you've only got one life."

She looked up the number, then dialed before she could chicken out. He answered on the second ring.

"Hey Joss, it's Eliza. I'm good, how about you and Kai? That's great, tell her I send my love. Yeah, dinner would be good. No, we broke up, but I can still eat by myself, dude. Eight o'clock Tuesday sounds perfect. So uh...do you happen to have Sarah's number? Right, I heard about that. Well you can't blame her, you fucked up. I know, I get it, but you need to tell her that. So is there any way you can get it for me? No reason, I was just thinking about her and...Yeah? Thanks, Joss! See you Tuesday."

Eliza carried the phone with her as she made her way out to the pool, snagging a bottle of orange Gatorade as she passed by the refrigerator. She sat down in a lounge chair and drank a toast to taking crazy chances. When her phone rang an hour later, she said a prayer that some rumors were true, and then she answered:

"S? Yeah, too long! Five by five, you?"

Chapter 10: Nothing Nobel

Author: lizardmm

Rated: R

Buffy POV

I land on the ground non-too-gracefully. You'd think I'd be getting the hang of this by now. I brush the grit and grime from my skinny jeans. Slayer-skills my ass. In fact, my ass has been taking one hell of a beating tonight.

Oh God, that came out totally wrong. Forget I just said that.

I quickly take stock of my surroundings when I exit the alleyway. It looks like any other Main Street in any other town. Except that I know it's not Cleveland because no one's wearing a jacket. But it's not Sunnydale, either, because no one has a tan.

It's nearly twilight, judging by the color of the sky. The street is littered with a scattering of people, all oblivious that in the alley around the corner, a girl just appeared out of thin air. It always amazes me how people can walk through life, so blind to the weird and supernatural things that surround us. Maybe it wasn't just a Sunnydale thing. Maybe it's just a people thing.

I start walking down the sidewalk, not really sure where to go. I suppose it doesn't really matter though; I have an uncanny skill for finding trouble. And trouble usually looks like Faith. I pass by a paper store, an art gallery, and stop for traffic in front of a corner coffee shop.

As I wait for the little illuminated person to show me it's safe to walk, I can't help but notice a nervous-looking guy. He's wearing a long jacket, which makes me notice him right away. I'm from Californian and even I don't need a coat right now. He doesn't look too much older than myself, and his face unfortunately reminds me of a rat's. Like he'd be really good at anxiously gnawing on cardboard box corners and stealing peanut butter.

When he edges restlessly over to a bike rack in front of the coffee shop, I watch him look around quickly and then pull a pair of bow-cutters from inside his over-sized coat.

"Hey!" I reflexively call out as he makes the move to free one rusty-looking bike from its chained confines. I might save the world from apocalypses, but that doesn't mean I'm too self-important to stop petty crime, too.

His eyes go wide when he sees me standing there, the whites of his eyes bright under the overhead streetlamps. "What do you think you're doing?" I demand, putting my hands on my narrow hips.

A strangled noise flies out of his mouth, and he quickly turns on his heels and bolts across the adjacent street, narrowly missing getting hit by a turning car. I'm about to run after the would-be-thief, when I see a familiar face through the front window of the coffee shop.

Faith's standing on a small stage with a microphone, holding a notebook in her hand. A mischievous grin finds its way to my lips. Oh...this I've got to see.

I push through the glass door and into the slightly-packed coffee house. No one looks in the direction of the opening door.

On the small, makeshift stage, Faith's clone is wearing a dress — which tips me off right away that this isn't my reality. It's black and slightly lacey, but not in a stuffy, fancy way...more like in a goth, tortured-soul kind of way. And her voice is different. Higher pitched than what I'm used to — kind of baby-dollish. I'm not sure I like it.

She's reciting poetry or something. I pause long enough to listen to a few lines.

In the dark corners of the more recessed cavities of ...small and wicked minds....parasites of inequity gorged themselves.

Okay, can't say I was expecting that.

I scan the small crowd, and take in my surroundings. There's a mix of hippies, emos, and other assorted white people thoughtfully sipping their overpriced caffeinated beverages. What I wouldn't do for a caramel macchiato right now though. Everyone's face looks vaguely interested in the girl on the stage spouting her non-rhyming poetry, like they're afraid to show too much emotion for fear of looking uncool at a poetry slam.

Except for one guy. He's tall, kind of too skinny for his frame, and looks out of place in his suit jacket and button-up dress shirt. And he's staring at the newest doppelganger as if she was the only thing in the room.

She looks up from her notebook in the middle of her verbal spewing and I see her stare at the Gawker. He quickly averts his eyes as though he's embarrassed that she just caught him undressing her with his eyes. She makes no comment though and continues her angry tirade. I have no idea what the words mean — I was never any good at critical analysis — but it sounds important coming out from that luscious mouth, and her eyes are squinted and fierce.

But you know...in the dark corners of the more recessed cavities of your own little mind that your own fЙted darkness seeds in it unique mental waste...

When she finishes, she's rewarded with a light smattering of applause. The man, however, claps the loudest and his large hands nearly drown out the other patrons. She looks slightly pleased on stage, tucks an errant wavy strand of light brunette hair behind her ear, and steps down from her beatnik soapbox.

The cafИ erupts into a low din. The show is apparently done, and a few other ratty-haired poets walk up to Faith's twin and surround her with attention. I scan the room and look for this poetess's biggest fan. I find him standing awkwardly near a bookshelf. He still stares at her, but the intensity is gone. It's been replaced with a hurt hunger to see her surrounded by so many other admirers.

This guy seriously gives me the creeps and I'm surprisingly worried for "Faith's" safety. I make my way through the crowd and accidentally-on-purpose knock shoulders with her lanky stalker.

"Oh!" I gush out when he spills his coffee over the front of his pressed khakis. "God, I'm so sorry."

He jumps back slightly, and immediately begins wiping uselessly at the hot beverage stain. I hear him curse under his breath, and I'm slightly pleased that I may have succeeded in burning his junk. "It's...it's okay," he says.

"Can I at least buy you another coffee?" I offer, but I really hope he doesn't take me up on my offer. I seem to be low on cash. When I left the house this evening for patrol, I hadn't exactly planned on bringing enough money to feed and shelter me for a week.

"No, it's fine," he says, not looking up. "It's okay."

"Is she friend of yours?" I pointedly ask. No beating around the bush tonight.

He clears his throat, and looks up sheepishly. "Ah, you caught me staring, huh?"

I nod, forcing my mouth into a twisted smile. "Yeah, you're kind of obvious."

He continues to stare at her across the room with a dreamy-far-off look in his puppy-dog eyes. "She's something, isn't she?"

I follow his gaze and watch as she laughs easily with some of her admirers. She looks like she's used to being the center of men's attention and enjoys it. A touch of her hand on someone's arm, the way she throws her head back slightly and laughs a throaty chuckle. The way her face goes serious when she's talking one-on-one, her gaze not wandering as though you're the most interesting thing in the room.

"Who is she?" I ask, a little mesmerized myself.

"City Hall."

"That's a name?" I snort in disbelief.

"Yeah...I guess so," he nods. "I-I introduced myself to her a few weeks ago. I've actually been trying to work up the courage to talk to her again, actually. I think her poetry is beautiful."

"But you think she's more beautiful than her writing," I smirk.

Busted. The guy blushes slighting and I'd find it endearing if I didn't want to knock his head off of his neck.

Wow. That's quite the visual. People sitting, unaware, drinking their cafИ mochas when suddenly the head of a patron flies off his neck, blood spraying all over the walls, staining the latest copy of the Wall Street Journal.

I shake my head briskly. All this time-traveling must be getting to me.

He sticks out his hand. "I'm Barkley, by the way."

I laugh again, and shake his pro-offered greeting. "That's a name, too? What's with you people?"

He smirks. "And I'm sure your parents did a better job?"

I narrow my eyes at him. Seriously. There's nothing wrong with the name `Buffy!' I don't know how many times I've had to defend it just tonight. Which, granted, has felt more like a week than a night out on patrol. But there's no way I'm telling him my name, only to have him laugh at it.

I realize that Barkley's been talking about something, and I've been completely ignoring him. I nod a few times and smile, feigning that I've actually been listening to him the entire time. I had lots of practice doing that in school. And with Giles. I'm a professional at not-listening-to-you-but-I'd-feel-bad-if-you-knew-I-was-really-drowning-you-out-with-other-more-interesting-thoughts.

His face looks suddenly alarmed and he hastily puts his ceramic cup on a nearby table.

"I'm sorry, she's about to leave," he apologizes. Barkley wipes at his mouth absentmindedly and starts for the door. "I'm...I've gotta go. It was, uh, nice to meet you!" he calls out behind his retreating form.

As he's making his exit, Barkley stumbles, catches himself on someone's shoulder, and apologizes. But he won't be denied. I watch as he pushes through the dense crowd until he's outside and standing next to her.

I lean against a bookshelf and watch as the two start an uncomfortable conversation. I wonder if Barkley has the balls to ask her out. She's way out of his league, but her poetry revealed a side to her that might not rank attractiveness as a top priority. He's not that bad looking, I guess, but I wouldn't call him God's Gift to Women, either. It looks like he cuts his own hair and he's got enough stubble that tells me he couldn't grow a full beard if he tried.

I squint my eyes. Although I've got a clear view of them beyond the plate-glass window, I can't make out what they're saying. Now I'm regretting never training with Giles on how to read lips. But in my defense, it's not like the creepy-crawlies I usually fight even have lips.

He looks rattled, raking his fingers through his hair as he talks to her, no doubt gushing about how beautiful her "poetry" is. She gives him a small smile and looks shyly away at his compliments.

I watch Barkley turn away from her briefly to unchain an old ten-speed from the bike rack in front of the coffee shop. Damn it. It's the same bike I stopped from getting stolen earlier. I'm slightly annoyed with myself for saving this guy's bike. If I'd known he was such a creeper, I would have stolen his bike myself.

He looks like he's saying goodbye, and she looks like she doesn't want him to go.

I make my way through the cafИ's crowd and out the front door just in time to see Barkley climb on his bike and push his foot against the first pedal.

"Call me!" Faith's clone calls out wistfully.

Barkley turns back briefly at her and the front tire of his bike wobbles unsteadily. He catches himself before crashing into a fire hydrant and continues down the street.

City Hall looks momentarily confused, and I stand beside her, unnoticed.

"Don't tell me you wanted to go home with that guy?" I ask in a low voice so only she can hear.

She turns and looks at me, surprise in her dark eyes. It takes me a moment to collect my thoughts. This certainly isn't the first time I've run into one of Faith's doppelgangers, but each time is still unnerving.

"I thought he was kind of sweet," she says in that effected voice that somehow sounds wrong coming out of her familiar mouth. "Don't tell me he's your boyfriend or something?"

I watch Barkley ride off into the distance, his lean form disappearing around a corner. "No," I chuckle. "Not my boyfriend."

The Faith look-alike regards me for a moment. "So what's it to you if I wanted him to come over to my place tonight?"

I hold up my hands in retreat. "Sorry," I apologize. "Bad habit. I shouldn't be sticking my nose into other people's business." I start to walk away, although I have no intension of actually leaving this girl.

"I've never seen you around," she calls after me. "You new?"

Hah. I'm in. I stop my retreat and turn to give her an award-winning smile. "Something like that."

City Hall regards me for a moment. "Well, a new girl in town could always use a few new friends, right?"

I eyeball her suspiciously. After listening to her poetry, I'm not sure City is the kind of girl I'd be BFF with.

"I have a car," she blurts out when I remain silent.

I raise my eyebrow comically. "Random thought of the evening?"

"No," she laughs, realizing how bizarre and out-of-place her admission must seem. "I just thought maybe you'd like to get dinner? I mean, no offense, but you look a little worn around the edges."

I look down at my grimy jeans and frown. She has a point.

"Come over to my place," she offers with a dimpled smile. "You can take a shower there, and I'll order us some Moo Sho. My treat." She bats her eyelashes at me playfully. "Unless that is, you think I'm a serial killer."

I'm taken aback by this stranger's kindness. In fact, I've been routinely taken aback by how...generous all of Faith's clones have been. I'm not sure if I was in her position I would be so altruistic, and I'm not entirely sure I know what "Moo Sho" is either.

As if on cue, my stomach growls. I grimace and grab at it lightly. I look down at my abdomen. "Traitor," I mutter.

"C'mon," she says with renewed playfulness, grabbing my hand. "I'm parked over here."

"By the way," she says, pulling me in the direction of a four-door tin can on wheels, "I'm City Hall. What's your name?"

I return City's carefree smile. "I'm Buffy," I tell her. "My name is Buffy."

City drops her keys on the black painted table near the front entrance. "Bathroom's down that hallway to the right," she tells me. She spins lightly on her toes and gives me a wink. "I'll order us some dinner so it'll be here by the time you're done."

I nod once and pad down the dark corridor in search of a bathroom. I suppose I should be more cautious, but nothing about City Hall raises any red flags.

The apartment's decor oddly doesn't surprise me. If City's poetry is dark and obscure, so is her taste in furniture and accessories. Spattered on the wall are numerous art projects, which I assume are all her own handiwork.

I find the bathroom with little trouble. The room is small — just enough space for a toilet, one sink vanity, and a stand-up shower, but it's well-lit and clean.

I quickly strip out of my clothes, thankful to finally let my feet breathe when I pull off my boots. These boots weren't exactly made for walkin', but then again I never suspected I'd be having these uncertain adventures tonight when I'd left the house I share with Dawn and Willow.

I stare at myself in the mirror. City was right; I do look a little rough around the edges. My eyeliner is smudged and my ponytail is messy, and my clothes look like I've worn them far longer than the evening. Can you say "Bag Lady"? I'm so frumptastic, it's amazing that Barkley ever said a word to me.

I slide into the running shower and sigh loudly, running my hands through my dampening hair. The water is hot and helps to erase the muck that has accumulated — physical and mental. This has been such a wild ride, I really haven't had a moment to myself to just reflect on everything. I don't know how long I've been gone. It feels like days, but the way these portals work, it could be minutes, weeks, or even years.

And it's still unclear why I'm here. At first I thought it had something to do with my Mom, but new portals are continually appearing, like I'm stuck in some messed up chain-of-events. It can't be just my bad luck that a random monster showed up in Cleveland and tossed me through a dimensional portal, right? But what I can't figure out is why. The only common thread seems to be Faith — or rather girls who look just like Faith, but really aren't.

The water starts to go a little cold, and I figure City's gonna worry I drowned in here if I don't come out soon. Plus, I don't want to run up her water bill. It doesn't look like she's exactly rollin' in the money.

I turn the faucet off, feeling amazingly refreshed. I open the shower door and notice words scrawled on the foggy vanity mirror: "Dinner's on the roof. C'mon up when you're ready."

There's also a fresh towel on the countertop, a tank top, and some pajama pants.

Huh. City must have snuck in while I was showering. I'm oddly not weirded-out by the idea of a stranger walking in on me in the shower, though. Look at me growing and maturing.

Still towel-drying my hair, I exit the bathroom and find that City's left behind a trail of post-it notes to guide me toward the roof access stairs. I follow the small, yellow notes out her apartment door, down a dimly lit hallway, and up a metal set of stairs.

When I reach the rooftop access, I'm not disappointed. Decorating the brick fence that forms the parameter of the roof is what looks like hundreds of lit candles. And in the center of the concrete rooftop is a box-spring mattress covered in an old-fashioned quilt.

Although it looks like a page torn out of a cheesy romance-novel, I can't help but be impressed.

"Wow," I exclaim, taken aback by my surroundings. "You don't really sleep up here, do you?"

City is crouched and looks over at me after lighting the final candle. She's changed out of her black dress and now wears a sheer, dark blue mini-dress that hugs her slight curves. It's more like a slip than a dress, really. It's ridden high on her thighs and I can't help but admire the sinewy muscles in her calves.

"I've got another bed in the apartment," she reveals nonchalantly, "but I stay up here in the summer. There's just something so...freeing about living without walls. I don't like to be boxed in."

I laugh and shake my head. "You sleep outside? In the city? That's crazy."

City drops her matchsticks abruptly and glares at me. She looks offended by my word choice. Her eyes are wild in the dim candlelight and her hair looks wilder than it had been when I last saw her. In fact, it reminds me a little too much of the looks a teenaged Faith used to give me back in Sunnydale.

"Crazy's just a choice, Buffy," she rasps, her voice cracking.

"I'm sorry...I-I didn't mean crazy," I stutter, standing awkwardly before her. I wring my hands in front of my body. "I meant, uhm, unique and interesting."

Her smile quickly returns to her playful mouth. "That's better," she murmurs.

I feel an odd rush of relief that she's smiling again. I don't know why it worried me so much that I might have insulted her. Maybe it's because of all the "Faith's" I've met so far, City Hall reminds me the most of the girl I abandoned. Not the woman back in that alleyway in Cleveland. But the scared, defiant, teenager who showed up in Sunnydale so many years ago.

"I hope you brought your appetite," City smiles, straightening herself and walking toward me.

I nod. "Just point me in the direction of the food," I warmly respond.

A shrill noise unexpectedly fills the night air, and I jump slightly. "Oh!" I call out in surprise. I turn quickly to see a full-sized cat land gracefully on the ledge of the rooftop.

"Meet Marvel," City laughs from her position behind me. "He's a thief. A cat thief," she says in all seriousness. "If you leave things out, he'll take them, and you never see them again. And I bet he wants to steal our food."

I watch the cat balance precariously on the ledge of the building. It's an orange tabby that looks well-fed. I eyeball him suspiciously. I've never been a fan of animals. In my experience, they're usually possessed. Plus if this cat thinks he's getting my dinner, he's gonna have to fight a Slayer for it.

"Buffy."

I turn around when she says my name. It takes me a second to realize that her blue tank dress has somehow magically disappeared. And with it, her bra.

I swallow audibly. Her dress is on the ground, pooled around her ankles. Her breasts are bare, and she wears only a sexy pair of black-lace underwear that rest high on her hips. I can't help but think that my version of Faith wouldn't be caught dead wearing something so feminine.

Her well-proportioned body is on display for only me. The candlelight flickers across her naked form, creating shadows and highlighting the lines of her slender curves.

Even when I saw all the candles, the thought of her trying to seduce me never crossed my mind. I just was coming up for Moo Sho. Wait. "Moo Sho" isn't like Chinese for "sex," is it?

"Am I beautiful?" she asks, staring at me hard.

My jaw drops. The words are out my mouth before I ever have time to harness them in: "God, yes."

She regards me with smoky-painted eyes. "Don't hurt me, Buffy," she says, taking a subtle step closer to me. Her voice has lost all of its innocent, baby-doll lilt in favor of a more gravely tone. It's like City Hall was stripped away with her short mini-dress and only Faith Lehane remains.

I would never hurt you, Faith. I never want to hurt you ever again.

"I won't," I lick my lips and take a step closer to her. She reaches for my face and her skin feels like it's on fire. "I promise."

The next morning, I wake up to a mixture of honking horns and the chirping of birds. I stretch my arms above my body, and fill my lungs with air. It's still early and the congestion of car exhaust hasn't yet tainted the morning air.

To my left in bed, City continues to soundly sleep. Her body is positioned so she's facing me, and I take this private moment to enjoy the view. The light quilt covers her naked breasts, but I can still see their slight swell as the blanket rises and falls with every deep, even breath. Her clavicle is deliciously defined, and I feel slightly cannibalistic for wanting to nibble on that bone.

I slowly sit up in bed and slide out from beneath the covers, not wanting to disturb her deep sleep. I'm naked, but the sun is already warm on my bare body. I feel surprisingly alive, like I've never rested so well as I did last night. I take the moment to stretch fully, my arms high in the air, my eyes closed, and a smile on my face.

"Looking good!" I hear someone call out. The praise is immediately followed by a wolf whistle.

Oh God. My eyes flip open and my body stiffens. Across the city skyline, I see two guys on a balcony a few hundred feet from where I stand. And they're giving me a standing ovation. Their applause sounds crisp and taunting.

My thoughts are consumed by one thought: Where are my pants? Where are my pants?

Quickly forgetting about the beautiful woman still sleeping soundly on the rooftop mattress, I gather up a handful of clothes, along with the remnants of my modesty. I scramble toward the fire exit door, pulling on my discarded pajama pants and tank top as I do so.

I feel bad for leaving City on the roof, but I need to escape the voyeuristic view of those boys. And I need coffee. And a hairbrush. And possibly a mint.

I push through the noisy metal door, wincing as it screams. I've probably just woken up everyone on the floor beneath me. The hallway is dark and my eyes take a while to adjust. I run my fingertips along the walls, using them as my guide, and hope I can find my way back to City's apartment. All the directional notes from last night seem to have magically disappeared.

And suddenly the floor disappears, and I'm falling through the air again, surrounded by that non-familiar green glow. I just can't seem to get a break.

Chapter 11: I've done this before

Author: lizardmm

Rated: R

The blonde slayer landed hard on solid pavement, her boots nearly an inch-high in rainwater. "Another portal, another dirty alley," Buffy grumbled to herself, stepping gingerly out of the deep puddle.

She looked down and sighed when she recognized her dingy clothes. The same dirty jeans, the same ruined boots. Why couldn't these portals be equipped with OxyClean? Magic scrubbing bubbles? Oh well. At least she didn't have a penis this time.

The sound of glass shattering in the near vicinity alerted the California native, her Slayer senses automatically going on alert. If experience had taught her anything, all of this alternate universe jumping usually landed her right in the middle of conflict.

Buffy reflexively reached into the lining of her denim jacket and pulled out the familiar weapon she kept there. She searched for a place to hide.

The sound of boots echoed down the empty corridor. "What kind of demon wears boots?" Buffy wondered to herself, trying to mentally narrow down her options.

The stranger's steps clunked closer and closer, until finally coming to a stop a few feet from the experienced slayer. From her crouched position behind the large metal dumpster, Buffy couldn't see who her stalker was, but the tingles at the base of her spine told her to remain alert.

The Chosen One took a deep breath. The disciplined muscles of her crouched legs twitched in anticipation of her attack. Finally, she sprung out from behind the alley dumpster, her weapon flying forward along with her body.

"Faith?!" the blonde girl exclaimed, abruptly stopping her attack mid-air.

"Were you expecting someone else?" the mysterious form responded. The woman's face showed neither alarm nor relief that Buffy had stopped her attack just in time.

The blonde girl stared open-mouthed at the Slayer standing calmly before her, smoking a cigarette. "Actually. Yes," she admitted vaguely.

"Who you waitin' on?" Faith asked, taking a lazy pull from her cigarette. "Gotta secret rendezvous or somethin'?" She wiggled her eyebrows suggestively.

"No. No rendezvous," Buffy mumbled, feeling slightly shaken as she tucked her stake back into the lining of her jean jacket.

"That's a pity," the dark-haired girl snickered. "Thought by now you woulda found the fun." She took a final drag and dropped the wasted cigarette to the pavement, stamping out the smoldering butt with the toe of her heavy boots. "So why were you hiding?" she asked in her usual raspy voice. "Are you hurt or somethin'?"

"I wasn't hiding," Buffy protested. "I was..." Her sentence trailed off and she blinked a few times. "...setting a trap." Wait a minute.

The Bostonian smirked. "Setting a trap, eh? And you were the bait?"

A loud shriek interrupted the two women's banter. Buffy's eyes went wide, and she reflexively reached out to grab the dark-haired slayer's wrist. A mangy grey cat jumped on top of a wooden crate and arched its back, hissing at the two women.

"I've done this before," she stated aloud, holding Faith's hand in a tight grip.

Was this really happening? After all the portals and bizarre Faith look-alike run-ins, could she actually be back in her own world? Had she actually returned to her version of Cleveland? Was it just that easy?

"You were in South Korea," the blonde slayer murmured, more to herself than to her startled colleague.

Faith looked a mix of surprised and impressed. "Wow, Blondie," she stated, a small smirk on her face, "didn't know you were keepin' track of my worldly travels."

Buffy shook her head. "No, I thought you were in Japan before. You showed up in this alley, and I nearly attacked you, and then you made fun of me for hiding and you said you were back from Korea, but I had thought you had been in Japan. And then there was a cat and a giant rock thing," she babbled. "Honestly though, I can't tell one Asian country from the other. It's all Greek to me. Or...Japanese...or Korean... or...something."

The Boston girl slightly narrowed her eyes in confusion. "I'm not followin', B." She chuckled. "Not like I usually can follow where your thoughts are headin' though once the Buffy-train's gotta a full head of steam."

Buffy did a slow turn in the dark alleyway. "I've done this all before," she repeated, her voice filled with awe.

The ground shook slightly as though a small earthquake quivered through the alleyway. The standing water in various shallow puddles rippled like a small stone had been thrown into their centers.

"Something tells me that's not another cat," the dark-haired slayer observed. She grabbed into the waistband of her black denim pants and pulled out the wooden stake she always had on her.

The tingles at the base of Buffy's spine grew stronger. She knew what was coming. But she didn't know yet how to defeat it. Despite all the various worlds in which she'd been flung, not one of them had told her how to defeat the demon that had started it all. And she'd only seen the creature one other time.

The demon's ominous words echoed in her mind: "I'm not here to hurt you."

First a foot, then a second, stepped out of the darkness of the nearly abandoned alley. A massive hulk of a monster stood before the two slayers. It lumbered tall above the experienced fighters, nearly as wide as it was tall. The creature didn't appear to have any special powers or weapons on its body, but the massive size of its rocky fists alone suggested it would be a formidable opponent.

Buffy turned her head when she heard her sister-slayer release a low whistle at the sight of the bulky monster. Faith readied herself, forming closed fists in front of her body in a defensive pose. "And here I thought I was gonna get a little vacation comin' back here," she stated wryly.

"Well, you know life on the Hellmouth," Buffy stated, the words falling easily from her mouth like a rehearsed play. "It's not a normal day unless someone's vacation gets ruined."

"Mind if I have a crack at it first?" the Boston girl questioned, keeping her eyes trained on the slowly advancing demon.

Buffy opened her mouth and closed it. How had this gone down before? How could she avoid repeating her past mistake? She couldn't help but feel a little like Tru Davies in this moment. What had she done last time that got her tossed into a dimensional portal?

"Actually," she shot out hastily, "I think I'll handle it."

Faith dropped her guard momentarily, the weapon in her hand resting near her side. "Damn, Princess. Didn't know I was crampin' your style."

The Californian shook her head briskly. "It's not that," she reasoned. "It's just...It's just that we've done this before."

The brunette slayer raised an eyebrow and took a subtle step away from the elder woman. "You keep saying that."

"Slayer," the looming giant growled, speaking for the first time. Both women turned to face the demon. "I'm not here to hurt you."

"That record's getting pretty old," the blonde slayer quipped. "Have any new ones for me?"

In that moment, all of Buffy's dimensional experiences flashed through her head. She saw all the faces, all the personas, all of Faith's doppelgangers that she had come into contact with that evening. What was the connection? What had been the purpose of her adventures?

Buffy looked at her sister-Slayer out of the corner of her eye. The Boston girl's face, always beautiful, looked focused and intense as she glared at the unknown threat.

"I think I know what it wants," Buffy murmured.

Faith hazarded a quick glance at her smaller colleague. "What's that? And don't even tell me it's some kinda ritual involving kittens."

"Kittens?" Buffy asked with a raised eyebrow.

"Long, freaky story that went down when I was in Korea," Faith explained. "I'll tell ya when you're older."

The blonde girl took a deep breath. It was now or never. If she was wrong, she might get her skull cracked open. And then she would still have to deal with the angry, rock demon.

Buffy wet her lips, nervously swiping her tongue along her lower lip. "Faith," she murmured, garnering the Boston girl's attention once more.

The brunette turned her head away from the formidable monster once again to look at her sister-Slayer. "Yeah, B?"

The small Californian's hands slid around the taller woman's slender waist. Faith's body stiffened slightly at the unexpected touch. Buffy slid her hand up Faith's neck, her palm coming to rest at the side of her face, and the brunette slayer made a strangled noise of surprise.

Buffy wet her lips again, her thick eyelashes fluttering. The Boston woman was frozen in her spot as she watched the shorter woman slightly stand on her tiptoes to narrow the distance between their mouths. The blonde's tongue poked slightly out and she brushed the tip along Faith's full lower lip. Summoning her remaining courage, Buffy pushed forward, pressing her mouth fully against the brunette slayer's lips.

Faith pulled away from her sister-Slayer. "What the Hell are you doing, B?" she blustered in an angry tone. Her dark eyes flashed. "This isn't the time for-,"

Buffy interrupted the dark slayer's protest with another crushing kiss. But instead of pulling away as she had done before, Faith moaned quietly this time when the elder slayer's tongue thrust into her open mouth. The brunette allowed the elder woman to explore, and she brought her hands up to Buffy's waist, sliding them up and under her denim jacket. The Californian's svelte form was slender, but strong, just as Faith had always imagined she'd feel.

"Aw, fuck it," the dark-haired slayer laughed gruffly when the two momentarily pulled apart for air. She flung her weapon away, and it clattered on the pavement in the distance. Faith took the smaller woman's face more fully in her hands. "If this is the moment I die," she murmured, looking hard into Buffy's hazel-green eyes, "I might as well die happy."

Buffy's breath hitched in her throat as she watched the Boston girl's dark eyes flutter close. Faith once again narrowed the distance between their mouths, but this time she was in control. She sucked the smaller slayer's lower lip into her mouth and lightly nibbled on the flesh. Buffy felt her knees wobble slightly, but was glad for the stability and strength her sister-Slayer's close form provided.

And although the Californian didn't want to compare this kiss with all the lip-locks she had experienced with the look-a-likes, she was personally pleased that Faith Lehane's kisses destroyed them all.

A green, pulsing portal opened unannounced, its eerie glow spreading across the brick wall of one of the alleyway buildings. Taking one last look at the two distracted women, the demon stepped into the gateway and it quickly closed, swallowing up behind the creature's massive form.

"What the fuck was that thing?" Faith declared, her breath slightly ragged from Buffy's embrace.

Buffy grabbed onto the taller woman's chin and smiled as she gazed up into the dark confusion in her former nemesis's eyes. "Would you think I was crazy if I said I thought it was Cupid?"

A small smile formed at the corners of the Boston-born woman's mouth. "Kiss me again," she said in her rough voice, "and I'll let you know what I think afterwards."

And the blonde slayer was only too happy to oblige.

FIN