The words were mostly neatly painted, with only the one spelling error as far as Buffy could tell. Bright red letters daubed onto a white banner, strung over the main entrance. "First Anniversary Hootenanny," it read, only with one N and a second S. She smiled to herself, hands full with two trays of nibbles.

It was hard to believe the Slayer Academy had thrown its doors open only a year previous. They'd achieved so much for the new slayers already. Every one of them now had somewhere safe to come, to stay if needed, and to train. It had taken almost seven months of arranging after the fall of Sunnydale, of Giles using all his wile-y wiles to get his hands on the last of the Council's funds, but they'd done it. They'd found this old mansion, fixed it up, sent out the word to the new slayers, and waited.

And slayers had come, from far and wide.

Buffy was proud, though she'd left the bulk of the work to Giles, Xander, and Willow. Still, she'd played her part; contacting slayers, convincing them that they would be safe there, cared for, honed into kick-ass demon killers. Cleveland may not have been glamorous exactly, but it's where the new hellmouth activity was concentrated, active. The slayers had plenty to do there, as well as elsewhere. In fact recently they'd been sending out more and more teams to deal with problems right across the globe. Buffy knew it was only a matter of time before it would become necessary to establish more academies, but for now, their sizeable house on the hill was it: Slayer Central.

Dodging eager young slayers, Buffy made her way into the main living room, headed toward the snack table at the back. All the furniture had been moved to the edges of the large room, leaving space for the youthful, somewhat over exuberant girls to shake their butts to the mix of music Xander was currently in charge of.

Buffy smiled at a few of the girls, frowned at some of the short skirts and skimpy tops, and shook her head at the realization she was meant to be responsible for them all. There had been retirement plans of course, but she just couldn't go through with it. She would always be a slayer, and she would always be there for these girls.

Approaching the table, a strange feeling caused Buffy to turn abruptly, almost sending her platters of food flying across the room. She steadied her hands and narrowed her eyes.

"Oh no," she mumbled. "No, no, no, no."

At the other side of the room stood Faith. She was in tight black jeans, a tee shirt that clung to all the bits it was meant to cling to, dark eyes made smoky with eyeliner, hair tousled and tumbling down her back. She looked damn good and Buffy cursed under her breath. Faith wasn't meant to be there.

Shoving the food into a space barely big enough, Buffy wiped her suddenly clammy hands on her jeans and made her way towards the ever annoying thorn in her side.

"What are you doing here?" she demanded without preamble.

Faith, drink in hand, slowly turned towards Buffy. "Good to see you too," she said with a sultry smile, lifting her glass in greeting. "And I was invited. What are you doing here?"

Buffy felt a little vein in her temple jump and throb, her ears buzzing as she did her best to remain calm. Though they'd been ok, mildly, with each other since they defeated The First, things would always be fraught when it came to them. They just didn't get along, and Buffy couldn't see things changing anytime soon.

Luckily, Faith had decided she was best out on her own, doing her own thing for the good of the new slayers. She hadn't stuck around long after Robin had died, heading out into the world to find newly called slayers, sending them Buffy's way. She wasn't officially part of the academy, refusing to be paid an income from the retrieved Council fortune, but she kept in touch, came through whenever they needed help. She was involved just enough, and they kept their distance as best they could.

"What do you mean what am I doing here?" Buffy asked testily, "I live here! It's my party!"

The little vein pulsed stronger with every moment she had to speak with the infuriating slayer. History would repeat itself with Faith over and over and she was damned if she was going to give it a chance to kick her in the ass.

"Well then, thanks for the invite," Faith said with a grin, taking a long sip of her drink before turning with a wink and disappearing into the crowd.

Buffy's mouth dropped open, her fists clenching as she watched Faith saunter away as if she didn't have a care in the world. As if she owned the world, or the world owed her something, or the world was her bitch and she was going to bend it over and spank it.

A little perturbed by her train of thought, and exasperated by Faith's irritating aplomb, Buffy fixed her gaze at Xander and gritted her teeth.

"I didn't invite you," she grumbled to herself, "but I have an idea who did."

* * *

"So," Buffy began as she settled herself beside Xander, watching for a moment as he fiddled with knobs and buttons on his rather fancy, completely superfluous DJ thing-a-ma-jig. "Here's a funny thing, though not so funny. More like not funny at all and really kind of annoying . . ."

She waited for Xander to pull his headphones off completely, music now thumping through the room.

"What's that, Buffster?" he asked, giving her one of his most charmingly goofy grins.

"You know what," Buffy insisted, hands on her hips. "I distinctly said no Faith."

"Awww, come on, Buff," he said, giving her a one armed, semi bear hug. "I know you didn't mean that."

"Oh, I did," Buffy maintained. "I recall telling you that it would be best to leave her off the guest list and thousands of miles away."

With a pout, Buffy crossed her arms, aware that she was sulking and acting a little silly. But the last thing she'd wanted from this party was to have Faith there making things weird. Making her feel weird. Act weirder.

"Hey, I know you two are still kinda . . .slap-happy with each other, but she's family," Xander said, drawing Buffy's attention away from Faith as she subtly shook her ass to the music by the snack table. "She should be here."

Buffy hated that he was somewhat right. Hated to admit that not inviting Faith was just mean, and entirely due to the oddness of their last meeting. She dropped her hands by her side, a deep sigh escaping as she recognized there was going to be no way to avoid Faith for the rest of the night. And no way to avoid thinking about what had happened when they were last in the same room together.

"It's just . . ." Buffy sighed again. "I wanted tonight to go well. She just complicates everything."

Realizing she'd probably said too much, Buffy gave Xander's arm a reassuring squeeze and looked for an escape route back to the kitchen.

"Hey," Xander said, stopping Buffy before she could walk too far away. "I know it isn't my place to say, and stop me if I step all over toes that have the ability to break every bone in my body, but . . .maybe you should give her a chance. Or yunno, you and her."

He cringed, obviously waiting for Buffy's reaction. She opened her mouth several times to speak, closing it again as she tried to convince herself that he didn't mean what she thought he might mean. He couldn't possibly mean that. He couldn't possibly know.

"I was in the hotel room next door, Buffy," he said quietly, cheeks gradually turning red.

Her heart stopped for a moment, before starting again with more speed than just standing up required. Suddenly standing up didn't seem so fun. She needed to sit down, or fall down. Could slayers even faint? She was certain she was about to find out.

"What . . .what?" she stammered, eyes wide.

"That night when Faith helped us with the big gurgle-y demon in Chicago," he began to explain, unnecessarily.

She knew exactly what night he was referring to. A night several months ago. A night that Buffy refused to think about, until she came full circle not thinking until all she could do was think, and remember, and baffle herself with questions she couldn't answer.

"I swear I didn't listen," Xander continued, face bright red now. "Scouts honor, I had earphones and used them, but at first I didn't know what I was hearing. There was banging around, and muffled noises, and little girly squeals and . . ."

"Ok, I get the picture," Buffy interrupted, her own embarrassment making her voice tight and high.

She couldn't believe he had heard them. She still couldn't believe she'd done it.

Looking down at his feet, Xander took a deep breath. "I just don't think you should write her off. She's doing good out there, Buffy, and not asking for anything in return."

"She has a lot to make up for," Buffy tersely reminded him.

"I know that, and so does she," he agreed. "Just don't turn away from something that could be good because you're too busy living in the past. Take a chance."

He wasn't normally so blunt with her, choosing to stay on Buffy's good side at all times, so when he did risk pissing her off she knew to pay attention. His words resonated through her. But it was difficult to let go of all the old feelings tied to Faith, even when new feelings were constantly knocking at the door.

She gave him a nod but refused to openly agree with him, still embarrassed about what he knew, about the night she'd spent with Faith. A night like no other she'd ever experienced.

"It's not that easy, Xander," she said. "But I'll try."

* * *

An hour or so later, Buffy surreptitiously watched as Faith danced her way around and between slayers, having a blast, just being her usual flirty self. She moved like she was free, liberated, confident, and Buffy couldn't help but appreciate the view. The questions she'd been asking herself since that night in Chicago flitted through her mind. Questions she'd been trying to avoid, ignore, dispel with distractions.

She couldn't avoid them now, not with Faith right there. Not with Xander's words circling her brain.

If she were being honest, brutally honest, she'd have to admit to always finding Faith attractive in some way. Of course, her personality - and the way it clashed with Buffy's - had somewhat distracted Buffy from what that attraction meant, or what it could lead to. After killing the demon and his spawn in Chicago, something had made Buffy forget about the way they clashed. She'd gone with instinct, with that attraction she felt. She'd gone with it all the way into her hotel room, and into her bed.

They'd been bickering, sniping at each other with sarcastic words, words that turned teasing, then flirty. They'd found themselves alone on the way up to their rooms, still exchanging barbs, a little alcohol in their veins, a little high on the slay. At Buffy's door Faith had pushed too far with a comment about leadership and Buffy had been ready to snap. But she hadn't snapped, too caught up in how good she actually felt at that moment.

Before she knew quite what was happening there had been kissing, groping, and a short struggle with the keycard later had lead to a stumble towards the large bed in the rather ordinary hotel room.

It had been . . .well, it had been incredibly satisfying, but completely puzzling. Buffy was still confused, but it hadn't felt wrong exactly, at least not the kissing or the naked parts. The kissing and naked parts had actually happened surprisingly easily, impulse taking the lead. There had been no real awkwardness there; nope, that didn't come until the next morning. The next morning had been crippling awkwardness and weirdness, and they hadn't spoken since.

Faith twirled with her drink, glancing over at Buffy and making her feel jittery and uncomfortably exposed. Buffy didn't know Faith's thoughts on their night together. Didn't know if Faith thought about it at all, remembered it the way Buffy did, or regretted it. Buffy wasn't even sure if she herself actually regretted it. Maybe not the sex per se, but she did regret that it had pushed the progress of their extremely tentative friendship backwards. She hated that part more than she cared to admit.

Wrapped up in her thoughts, Buffy didn't realize just how close Faith had gotten - dancing across the floor - until she caught a waft of Faith's distinctive perfume. Sense memory kicked in and her body stiffened. That scent had been all over Buffy the morning after in Chicago. It had permeated her skin, proving without doubt how intimate they'd been over the long hours spent rolling around together.

She shuddered at the memory. Not a bad shudder either, as if to kick her while she was down and flopping around like a fish with a bicycle, or however that saying goes.

"So you're pissed huh," Faith said, her voice causing a frustratingly pleasant thrill to shoot through Buffy.

Faith stood just behind Buffy, practically whispering in her ear, recreating a certain feeling from that certain night, when Faith had been pressed up against her back. They'd fallen asleep after a few vigorous hours of heated sex, but at least twice in the night they'd found each other again under the sheets. Buffy distinctly remembered Faith's hand running up and down her body as she mumbled sleepily in her ear, telling Buffy she wanted her again, needed to taste one more time.

Closing her eyes and taking a steadying breath, Buffy fought to control the tingles those memories invoked. She didn't want this, didn't need the complications, the possibility of more arguing or fighting. It was best just to stay away from Faith. It had always been the case.

"I'm not pissed," Buffy finally replied once her heart had stopped pounding quite so much. "I just don't want to fight tonight."

"Then we won't fight," Faith said, moving even closer. "We do other things just as well as fighting, though the scratch marks could have been mistaken for either."

Buffy's stomach twisted and flopped, an image of them both pressed together, Faith between her legs, assaulting her mind. She'd clung to Faith, pulling her impossibly tight against her body, revelling in the feeling of Faith's weight on top of her, pushing her into the mattress as they moved together. She had dug her fingers into Faith's back, nails leaving marks as she began to lose control. The memory was so vivid it was as if it had happened only the night before, but it had been months. Months of wondering what the hell had happened, and months of cringing at the painfully awkward way they'd left things.

"Don't," Buffy said weakly.

"Don’t?" Faith said, her voice now low, husky and intimate. "Don't remind you? Or don't make you want it again."

Hardly believing how forthright Faith was being after such a long time with absolutely no communication between them, she shook her head. Turning towards Faith and looking her right in the eye, wavering only slightly as her gaze fleetingly drifted to full, slightly parted lips, Buffy tried to focus on being in command of herself.

"Want it again?" she said rather shakily. "We haven't even spoken for months."

Only now did Buffy understand just how much that had hurt. Yes hurt, she admitted to herself. After the night they'd spent - even though the morning had been fraught with tension - she thought she deserved at least a call, a postcard, something.

Faith chuckled and shook her head, the look on her face clearly giving away just how much she wanted to call Buffy out on her shit. It took two to tango after all, and telephones worked both ways.

"I was under the impression talking was the last thing you wanted to do, after you basically ignored me the next day," Faith said, irritation evident in her tone. "But whatever. I guess it is what it is."

Buffy almost walked away, done with this endless back and forth, up and down between them. But Xander's words rang out through her mind, and the thought of ending up right back at square one with Faith made her feel quite desolate. They couldn't keep doing this.

"I don't know what it is, Faith," Buffy responded, trying to ignore the cold, hard stare she was receiving from Faith. She could see walls between them; great big looming walls that hadn't been there at all when they'd stripped away their egos along with their clothes. "That's probably the point."

Her words, spoken quietly, seemed to hit a place within Faith that made those brown eyes soften.

They were at an impasse it seemed. Either they could move forward, or they could walk away just as they were, as they always did . . .barely friends, almost enemies. Forever complicated.

As several slayers bopped and shimmied a little too close for comfort, Buffy nodded towards the nearest door. Swallowing down the desire just to let things be, Buffy decided to do what Xander had suggested. Hell, life was too short for this, for not knowing, for burying the obvious no matter how much it bewildered them both.

"Can we talk somewhere quieter?" Buffy asked, heart in her mouth as she watched several emotions cross Faith's face.

Without a word Faith gave a nod and headed towards the door, Buffy following, paying only a little attention to the worried looks thrown her way from Xander and Willow as they chatted in the corner.

* * *

Once outside of the main room, Buffy led Faith down a long corridor, turning into the hall full of training rooms. They were alone here, though the sounds of the party could still be heard, along with the jostle of young feet pounding the floorboards above.

For a long while they didn't speak as Faith gazed out over the vast lawn at the back of the house, hands on the windowsill as she waited for Buffy to break the silence. Now they were alone, Buffy wasn't quite sure what she wanted to say. She didn't know how to get past all the things they needed to get past, but she knew she had to try. Unsure whether she wanted more from Faith, or less, she emptied her mind and prayed for clarity, for instinct once again to take her forward.

"What happened?" she asked, not even certain what she was asking.

Faith turned her back to the window, giving Buffy a puzzled look.

"What happened when?" Faith questioned, arms crossing defensively.

Buffy wanted to walk forward, to release Faith's arms so they were once again at her sides, leaving her more open. She remained standing opposite, however, choosing to try to appear relaxed as she leaned against the wall.

"That morning," Buffy clarified, the shake to her voice making her hate how vulnerable she sounded. How vulnerable she felt.

Faith raised an eyebrow, confusion evident as she stood taller, stronger.

"You tell me, B," she replied. She sounded angry, preparing to be attacked no doubt.

"I wanted to hear your version," Buffy said.

Buffy knew why she herself had closed down, pushed away feelings she couldn't deal with, but she needed to hear what Faith had to say. The prolonged silence between them had been awful, leaving Buffy caught between emotions in a way she hadn't coped well with. Months. Months of not knowing, unsure, bombarded with memories both good and bad, but mainly memories of what they'd done together. It had been frustrating in all kinds of ways.

A slow smile spread over Faith's lips, but it was free of mirth.

"My version? Really?" Faith quipped. "Well that's a first."

Buffy did her best to ignore the barb.

"We were getting along better," Buffy reminded. "But then when we . . ."

"Fucked," Faith supplied when Buffy paused awkwardly. "We fucked, B, then you freaked out. That's my version."

Taken slightly aback as she tried to organize her thoughts, Buffy only momentarily noticed that they'd moved closer to one another. Or Faith had moved. Or maybe Buffy had moved; the wall was no longer at her back.

"I didn't freak out," she lied, to herself as much as Faith. "I just . . ."

Her shrug was lame, a pathetic punctuation mark to a sentence she didn't even believe herself.

"Let me remind you, Buffy," Faith said, edging even closer, her sheer presence almost intimidating. "We had some really, really good sex. You called out my name, and I ripped the fucking sheets. It was intense. Then the next morning," she continued, close enough to touch now, to grab, "I reached out to shake you awake and when I touched your skin you went so rigid I thought you were gonna pull a fucking muscle. You couldn't get me out of there quick enough. Couldn't look me in the eye. Hardly said two fucking words."

Buffy closed her eyes, reliving that morning in all its thoroughly unpleasant glory. Faith was right and she wanted to kick herself for it. For what she'd done and hadn't done. Admitting she was wrong, the one to blame, however, was not an easy task. In fact it was impossible.

"You didn't exactly protest," she argued weakly. "You seemed pretty happy to get the hell out as fast as you could."

Chuckling, Faith dropped her hands to her sides, balling them into fists, Buffy noticed peripherally.

"Yeah, I got the hell out alright," Faith agreed. "Wasn't gonna stick around to watch you find excuses for what happened, or to be blamed for it."

"I wouldn't have . . ."

Buffy stopped herself, knowing she had indeed 'blamed' Faith, if only to herself. But there was no blame to portion out between them, it had just happened. For whatever reason, it had just felt right in that moment, and now she had to accept that. Accept that she'd wanted it, enjoyed it, and . . .even now desired it again.

"We should have talked," she went on quietly, feeling a sense of shame unfamiliar to her.

"We're talking now," Faith pointed out.

Buffy looked up into her eyes, letting a few moments pass between them in silence. She looked right into Faith, gauging what she thought, what she felt. She hated that she didn't have the first clue about what Faith was feeling. As if driven to discover those hidden emotions, that spark that had brought them together and often had them beating the hell out of each other, Buffy lifted a hand to Faith's face. She stroked her thumb over the smooth skin of Faith's cheek, barraged by visions of them being together.

It didn't always have to be so hard did it? They could move on, be something different.

Without thinking, done with thinking, Buffy surged forward, her lips clashing against Faith's. She caught a moan in her throat, embarrassed by the way just this simple contact could charge her, engulf her.

Let go, she said to herself. Let it all go and just be.

Faith responded eagerly with her mouth, though her body was stiff, held away from Buffy as if she were afraid of the consequences of reaching out. Buffy couldn't really blame her, only herself. She rectified that as best she could, sliding her hands up Faith's back and pulling her closer. Tongue darting into Buffy's open mouth, Faith finally relented, relaxing into Buffy as she pushed her up against the wall. Her hands gripped Buffy's hips, holding, tugging.

Soon they were frantic, all previous thoughts or anger obliterated as they explored each others mouths, tongues twisting wetly, lips almost bruising. It was growing hot in the corridor, breaths coming heavy as Faith's hips moved between Buffy's thighs, pressing and grinding.

All previous concerns and questions were long gone from Buffy's mind. Or at least pushed far back, out of sight, inconsequential in the face of the sudden overwhelming desire to claw her way beneath Faith's skin, beyond all her defences and previous hurts. She felt drunk on lips, on Faith's scent, on the way Faith's muscles twitched under her hands. She wanted more. She needed more.

Pushing her fingertips under the tight top Faith was wearing, Buffy slid her hands up, over ribs to the soft roundness of Faith's breasts. She tried to work her hands underneath the lacy bra, blowing out a frustrated sigh against Faith's neck as she nuzzled and kissed. Without question or comment, Faith quickly undid the confining garment, returning her hands to Buffy and working them under her blouse without pause. She found Buffy's breasts just as Buffy found Faith's, toying and teasing until they were moaning into one another, lost to sensation.

A desperate throbbing between Buffy's legs broke down every last hope she had been trying to muster to stop. She couldn't think past the need to have Faith. A repeat of their first time, it was as if they had no control, no power to deny themselves once they'd begun. It was frightening, but also exhilarating.

"I need to touch you," she gasped as Faith pulled at her aching nipples. "I need to . . ."

A flood of desire soaked her underwear as Faith tore her hands out from under Buffy's top and made short work of her own belt and zip, pulling her jeans open for Buffy to gain unrestricted access. Without hesitation Buffy did the same, moaning deeply when Faith's hand slid inside her clothes, fingertips quickly brushing over her swollen, heated flesh.

"Touch me, Buffy," Faith reminded, slipping her fingers through Buffy as Buffy whimpered in acceptance of their fate.

Not waiting for a second invitation, Buffy pushed her hand into Faith's panties. The twin sensation of Faith's fingers on her and her own on Faith had her heart pounding and her mind exploding in several directions. Faith was wet and ready for her, so slick she could barely keep her fingertip in place as she began to rub circles over the hard clit demanding immediate attention.

They were eager to please and pleasure, knowing time was limited. Knowing the corridor was not exactly the best place to do this. Though Buffy wished she could explore and take her time, just as they had that first night, this was not the place for that. They were rushing, months of pent up frustration bursting from them as their fingers slid and their mouths sought purchase on any exposed flesh within reach.

"Jesus," Faith panted, her body beginning to shake against Buffy. "Don't stop."

Buffy quickened her pace, hand buried deep in Faith's panties and spinning her out of control as she gave herself equally. She jerked her hips against Faith's fingers, buried her face into the crook of her neck and let loose the last barrier she had.

"Oh fuck," they said in tandem, vibrations of pleasure ricocheting from heads to toes.

With a cry Buffy came just as Faith flooded across her fingers in release. Holding tight to one another the trembles of orgasm took their breaths, stole their minds, and sent them almost crashing to the floor.

"Whoa," Faith mumbled as she held them both upright, keeping Buffy pressed gently to the wall. "You've got mad skills," she said with a rumbling chuckle.

Buffy laughed, feeling so free in that moment, blissful in Faith's arms despite their history. Feeling wobbly and weak as she tried to regain composure, Buffy pulled her hand from Faith's pants, twitching with little aftershocks as Faith slowly did the same. Well, her panties were ruined, that was for sure.

"That so wasn't what I planned when I asked you out here," Buffy said with a slightly nervous chuckle.

"I'm not exactly complaining," Faith responded, pulling away just enough to look Buffy in the eye.

Buffy smiled as she gazed back at Faith, enjoying the lazy look in Faith's eyes. The openness.

"But we're still talking at least," Buffy pointed out, blushing at just how stupid she'd been before. Just how stubborn in her desire to hold onto the pain of the past. This was better.

They pulled apart reluctantly and slowly zipped up and rearranged clothing, straightening out wrinkles and giving each other soft smiles and grins. Yes, this was definitely better. The tension between them was still there, but eased, placated for now.

Noises down the corridor growing closer quickened their pace and they separated further, a little awkwardness growing between them as the heat of the moment dissipated.

"So we'll keep talking," Buffy vowed, determined not to repeat the same mistakes.

"Just talking?" Faith asked with a smirk, her gaze travelling over Buffy possessively.

It triggered a tingle inside Buffy that left her in no doubt she wanted Faith to hang around, at least for the night. With a promise to herself that they would clear up the still unresolved things between them she rolled her eyes playfully. They seemed to communicate better this way anyway, and what would one more night hurt? What would two more nights, or more, hurt? This was surely a beginning, and Buffy would do everything she could not to pull away from it.

"Let's 'talk' more later, if you want," Buffy said, hoping Faith understood.

She slid her hand into Faith's, giving it a squeeze before tugging her closer and placing a soft kiss on her lips.

"Later sounds good," Faith replied against Buffy's mouth, before stepping back once again. "But what about tomorrow? What about the morning?"

Pausing for a moment, Buffy bit back the need to defend herself, to fall on old habits. Xander was right, they deserved a chance.

"Let's not worry about the morning," Buffy said. "It'll be different this time."

Faith looked sceptical at first but then nodded, a sly grin lifting the corners of her lips.

"Later then," she said, walking backwards away from Buffy.

"Later," Buffy agreed, hardly able to believe what she was getting into once again.

She watched Faith turn and head back to the party.

A year of hard work was being celebrated tonight, and Buffy felt proud. Proud, and secretly hopeful.

She also owed Xander a "thank you", and a Hootenanny dance.