Chapter One

Buffy stalks through campus, annoyance radiating from her with every step. Mr. Pointy is clutched in her right hand and tucked against the sleeve of her jacket, where it’ll be mostly out of sight of any unsuspecting coeds she comes across. The last thing she needs is to be spotted slaying. This is her chance for a new chapter where she’s not just the weird girl who shows up when there’s trouble. Admittedly, it’s off to a rough start—what with her first friend being murdered by a group of vampires who wanted to steal his stuff and the fact that she’s about 94% sure her roommate is an actual demon—but she’s not ready to throw in the towel yet. She’s living away from home, meeting new people, learning new stuff, even taking the occasional night off thanks to Faith sharing patrol with her. She’s got this. She’s gonna be a whole new Buffy, maybe even—

The vampire she’s been following darts across the path ahead of her. Smiling grimly, Buffy picks up the pace. She’s spent the last week systematically hunting down the remaining members of Sunday’s little gang and taking them out. This is the last of them, and Buffy feels her heart beating faster in her chest as she closes in on her prey. Eddie was kind and he had his whole life ahead of him. He deserves to be avenged. Plus they touched her stuff. This vamp’s gotta die.

She’s jogging as she leaves the path, following the sound of footfall ahead of her. There’s enough space between them that the vamp might think she’s lost her, but that’s all part of the game. She’ll let the vamp head further and further away from campus center, then make her move when there’s less chance of being spotted. It’s almost too easy. Sunday apparently wasn’t choosing her groupies based on IQ.

Case in point: she hears noise now, just ahead on the right. Can the vamp have been stupid enough to double back and head right into her path?

Tightening her fingers around the stake, Buffy plunges into the bushes. She cuts through quickly, a triumphant grin overtaking her face. Her stake rises, ready to meet its target.

It falls just as quickly as she darts from the brush directly into a picnic area. A circle of chairs are set up, most of them occupied by women who turn to look at her.

“Uh,” Buffy says, shoving her stake behind her back, “there was a—a, umm, bee—a bat.” She nods decisively, managing to tuck the stake in her waistband. “Sorry.”

There’s a woman standing on the opposite side of the circle, and she smiles politely. “That’s okay,” she says. “Are you here for the meeting?”

Trying to casually pick free a leaf that’s caught in her hair, Buffy nods quickly. “Uh, yep.”

The woman gestures at an empty chair not too far from Buffy. “Awesome!” She says. “I’m TJ.”

Seeing no other option, Buffy heads for the open spot. “Buffy,” she says, offering her name.

“Buffy,” TJ repeats, smiling again. “Welcome.”

Fighting off embarrassment, Buffy slinks into the open seat and tries to be inconspicuous. A few of the other group members give her small waves and kind smiles, which she returns, before turning her head like she’s listening. TJ’s back to speaking now, but somewhere beyond the circle, the vamp is still nearby. Buffy can feel it in her gut, that certainty that something otherworldly is lurking in the shadows. She scans the tree line, looking for any hint of movement. Meanwhile, TJ’s words go in one ear and out the other. Buffy’s only vaguely aware of her talking about monthly meetings and a candlelight vigil to be held in October. Will the vamp try to attack now, in the middle of all these bystanders?

The tingling in her neck grows fainter as the meeting continues, to Buffy’s disappointment. There’s no way she can go after the vampire now, not without disrupting this meeting again. And she’s trying to keep a low profile on campus. She’ll have to resume the hunt when the group disperses. It seems on the way to doing so as Buffy tunes back into TJ’s speech.

“—be a safe space for everyone,” TJ is saying. “I know the group name sounds super concrete, but you don’t have to put a label on yourself. You don’t have to have it all figured out. Wherever you are in your process or your journey or whatever, we want you here.”

Buffy notices the woman to her right begin beaming at that, and she smiles, too. She has no idea what she missed so far, but this part sounds nice. Maybe she’s not the only one who’s having a little trouble adjusting.

“Same time, same place, next Tuesday,” TJ says, dismissing them. Buffy starts to get to her feet, but sees TJ flash her the one minute signal. So much for sneaking off.

“Freshman?” Someone asks. Buffy turns to the girl who was seated next to her. Blond curls form a halo around her head, tucked into a thin, glittery headband.

“Is it that obvious?” Buffy asks, smiling ruefully.

“No,” the girl says. “Just haven’t seen you around before, and we’re a pretty close knit group.” She holds out her hand for Buffy to take. “I’m Shannon.”

Buffy shakes her hand automatically. “Buffy.”

“I know,” Shannon says. Her jacket parts as they shake, giving Buffy a glimpse of the t-shirt she wears underneath. It’s the UC Sunnydale logo, only the sunshine that usually appears between the ‘C’ and ‘D’ is rainbow colored. LESBIAN ALLIANCE the shirt says beneath that.

Buffy’s eyes dart quickly around the other group members. She spots two more of the same shirt. Oh crap.

Shannon releases her hand. “So, Buffy,” she says conversationally, while waving to someone else over Buffy’s shoulder. “What’s your story?”

“Oh, uhh,” Buffy fumbles, cursing herself for not having come up with a cover story in the last three seconds, “I… haven’t—I—I mean I’m not, umm, sure I—”

“That’s okay!” TJ appears at her side, taller than Buffy by several inches. “You don’t have to be sure,” she says reassuringly. “We’re glad you’re here.”

“Thank you,” Buffy says automatically.

“What did you think of the meeting?” TJ asks.

“It was good!” Buffy says quickly. The wood of her stake digs into her back, and her palms are beginning to feel sweaty. “I liked what you said about, you know, safe spaces.”

TJ nods like Buffy’s comment makes sense. “Good,” she says. “I hope we’ll see you next week.” A warm hand clasps Buffy’s shoulder briefly, then she’s gone.

She must look like a deer in headlights, because Shannon’s eyes crinkle in amusement. She says, “Are you in Mariano’s Poli Sci class—the 1PM?”

Surprised, Buffy thinks about it for a second, then she nods. “Wednesday and Friday? Yeah.”

“Me too,” Shannon says. “I thought you looked familiar. A couple of us usually get lunch in the café before class, if you wanna join sometime.”

It’s on the tip of her tongue to say no. She literally crashed this group’s meeting, and she’s definitely not the intended audience, but on the other hand… she hasn’t succeeded in meeting anyone still among the living so far. “Sure,” she finds herself saying.

XXXXX

“Well,” Faith says, standing just inside Giles’s front door, “this is new.”

She’d come by to tell him about a pair of demons she tangoed with on patrol the night before. One of them had met the business end of her stake and promptly exploded, covering her in demon goo; the other is in the wind. Instead of finding Giles here as she expected, it was Oz who opened the door. He’s now standing next to Xander, who is wearing a distinctly guilty look on his face. And then there’s Buffy.

Closing the door behind her, Faith leans her back against the wood and crosses her arms. “Why’s she tied up?”

Oz glances at Xander, who straightens his shoulders and says, “She’s possessed.”

“I am not possessed,” Buffy yells indignantly, struggling against the ropes currently binding her to a bench in the middle of Giles’s living room. “I told you, it’s Kathy, she—”

“By what?” Faith asks.

“Not sure,” Xander says. “Giles went to get supplies so we can do a spell that’ll reveal the demon.”

“I can't believe this,” Buffy says, obviously fuming. “After all that we've been through together, you guys won't believe me when I tell you that Kathy is bad.”

Xander casts a distraught look at her. “We want to, Buff, it's just—”

“Shh,” Oz says softly, “don't engage.”

Faith takes a moment to enjoy this. She’s almost always on the outside looking in when it comes to Buffy and her friends; it’s nice to see them at odds with each other just once. Then she pushes herself away from the door and strides across the room toward Buffy.

“Uh, Faith, what are you doing?” Xander sounds alarmed.

Faith squats down so she’s eye level with Buffy. “What’s going on?”

Xander starts to answer, but she holds up a silencing hand, waiting for Buffy to speak.

Buffy focuses her attention on Faith, making direct eye contact and leaning slightly forward. It’s a little bit unnerving, but Faith holds her ground. “Kathy,” Buffy begins firmly, “has parts that can grow after they're detached. She irons her jeans. She listens to Lite FM, Faith. Love songs. Nothing but love songs.”

Faith nods.

“She's evil,” Buffy stresses. “She has to be destroyed.”

Faith considers that for a moment, then she shrugs. “Good enough for me.”

“What!” Xander cries.

Buffy’s grin is triumphant (and more than a little terrifying) as Faith reaches around her to loosen the ropes.

“You can’t be serious,” Xander says, as he and Oz slowly back farther away.

Shaking the ties from her wrists, Buffy gets to her feet beside Faith. “Thank you,” she says primly.

“Welcome,” Faith says. “Give me a sec? I’ll go with you to deal with Kathy.”

Buffy nods, then she aims a final glare at her friends before she heads outside.

“This is not how I saw this going,” Oz states, not sounding overly perturbed.

Faith shrugs again.

Xander looks between Faith and the door incredulously. “You really don’t think she’s possessed?”

“Oh no, something’s definitely wrong with her,” Faith agrees easily, “but I’ve met that Kathy chick. If Buffy’s possessed, she had something to do with it.”

Oz frowns. “And if you’re wrong?”

“I’m going with her,” Faith says. “I won’t let anything happen.” She glances over her shoulder to where she can see Buffy waiting impatiently in the courtyard. “Besides, you had about 90 seconds before she broke free. This way you get to keep all your limbs attached.”

“Thoughtful,” Xander says.

“I better motor before she leaves without me.”

Approximately 35 minutes later, Faith is beginning to regret her decision. Not the ‘agreeing with Buffy that Kathy’s evil’ part—she’s been feeling pretty solid about that since around the time Buffy tore Kathy’s human façade off—but the coming along to face Kathy part. Buffy’s soul is fully back in her own body, which is of the good, but there’s also a big, swirling portal in the floor of her dorm room. Faith’s dangling half in, half out of it, with Buffy gripping one of her hands for dear life.

There’s a sucking sensation around her mid thigh, as the portal tries to close and take her with it. The opening is narrowing rapidly. Faith’s free hand is clenched around the foot of Buffy’s bed frame, and she tightens her grip.

“You have to let go!” Buffy shouts, still clutching her hand. “Grab me instead! I’ll pull you back.”

Faith gives her a look that she hopes conveys her exact thoughts. You gotta be fucking kidding me.

“Do it!” Buffy orders. She’s on her ass on the floor outside of the portal, sneakers braced against the ground. Both arms extend between her knees, and she looks like she’s about to start a set on a demonic rowing machine.

Faith does a quick count to three in her head, then she releases the bed frame, instantly feeling herself slip farther into the portal. She grasps wildly, finally managing to reach up to where Buffy’s holding out her opposite hand.

As soon as Faith grasps her wrist, Buffy yanks with all her might, pushing up with her feet as she does. There’s a disturbing sound not unlike a kitchen sink draining as Faith sails free of the portal’s grip and is dragged squarely on top of Buffy.

Behind her, the portal closes with a slurp.

They lie there in a heap, both panting, hands still clutched together, and Buffy asks, “You okay?”

Faith responds in a grunt, waiting for the pins and needles feeling in both legs to subside.

At that moment, the door to the bedroom crashes open. Xander and Oz push inside, stopping short when they see the collapsed slayers.

Buffy eyes them balefully from underneath Faith.

“Guessing you guys already know Kathy’s a demon?” Xander asks weakly.

“Uh huh,” Faith says, managing to mostly roll herself off and flop onto her back. One rubbery leg still sprawls across Buffy’s.

“Told you,” Buffy says, apparently not too tired to lord this over them.

Xander has the grace to look chagrined. “We’ll go call Giles.”

Faith almost suggests they can use the phone in this room, except that she’s pretty sure Kathy shattered the handset against Buffy’s face mid fight. She makes a dismissive gesture with her hand, closing her eyes while the nerves in her legs continue to make their protests known. A soft click lets her know they’re alone in the room again.

“Thanks,” Buffy says from beside her, “for believing me.”

Faith cracks one eye open to find Buffy still lying next to her, looking up at the ceiling.

“Nobody else did,” Buffy adds.

“Civilians,” Faith says dryly.

Buffy snorts and glances over at her. “I owe you one.” Flexing her leg experimentally, she finds Faith’s is still dead weight. “Maybe two.”

Faith nods. That seems fair, considering the circumstances. “Make it up to me on patrol tonight,” she suggests, before she can stop herself. “I’m tracking a demon, heavy on the slime. Ruined my favorite shirt on the last one.”

She half expects Buffy to beg off—they do their own patrols as often as not—but Buffy just grins and says, “I’ll bring a poncho.”

XXXXX

Her tray is heavily loaded as Buffy makes her way past the cashier. It’s taco day in the café, her favorite, and she has two more classes to go after lunch. She needs substance. Yummy, yummy, substance wrapped in hard shells. Wednesdays are one of the days when she and Willow don’t overlap at lunch, so she’s planning to find a quiet spot to read her notes before she goes to poli sci. First quiz of the year. Yay.

“Buffy!”

Buffy looks up and sees a familiar girl with blond curls waving her over to a table with a few other people. She goes, tray carefully balanced in both hands. “Shannon,” she says, “hey.”

“Sit with us!” Shannon says, more command than invite.

Buffy sets her tray down carefully and takes the proffered spot at the table.

“This is Tara,” Shannon says, pointing to the woman beside her. Tara ducks her head, barely meeting Buffy’s eyes, but she does smile.

“And everybody,” Shannon says, vaguely waving at the other people at their table. “Everybody, meet Buffy!”

There’s a chorus of hellos, and Buffy gives the table an awkward wave before she turns back to Shannon. “How’ve you been?” She asks.

“Terrible,” Shannon says immediately and dramatically.

Beside her, Tara snorts softly.

“It’s day 423 of being tragically single. I am totally flunking econ, and my roommate abandoned me to get a single this year so I got randomly paired up. This girl is not cool.” She takes a quick sip of her drink then adds, “It’s like, you play softball and you’re not gay? Come on.”

Buffy’s not sure what to tackle first from that list. She settles on, “I’m sorry?”

Shannon pats her arm. “Thank you.”

“I didn’t abandon you,” Tara says in a long suffering tone. She glances at Buffy, and her face goes a little pink. “I told you I wa—was applying to be an RA this year.”

“Which you wouldn’t have done if you loved me at all,” Shannon says with a sniff. She grins right after and slings an arm around Tara’s shoulders. Looking at Buffy again, she says, “Tara’s in LA too; she’s usually at the meetings.”

LA? Buffy thinks, before it clicks. Right. The group she’s sort of accidentally joined. She offers Tara a closed mouth smile, having just taken a large bite from one of her tacos.

“Buffy’s new,” Shannon tells Tara, probably unnecessarily, “and TJ, in her infinite wisdom, seems to think asking newbies hundreds of intrusive questions scares them off for some reason, so we’ll have to bide our time before we ask about all her deep dark secrets.”

Buffy laughs, but before she can respond, Tara’s eyes widen and she gives a small wave to someone walking by. Glancing over her shoulder, Buffy sees a girl with reddish brown hair in a pixie cut.

Shannon leans toward her conspiratorially. “That’s Sadie, she was in our suite freshman year, and Tara’s been pining for her basically that long.”

“She’s straight,” Tara says, looking a little embarrassed.

“No, she’s not,” Shannon says with complete confidence. “She just doesn’t know it yet.”

Buffy’s face must show her surprise, because Shannon raises one eyebrow. “What?”

“You think someone could really just not know?”

“Sure,” Shannon says breezily, “especially women.”

The tiniest little seed of something starts in Buffy’s brain, not quite alarm, but definitely something.

“She probably tells herself that everyone notices other women the way she does,” Shannon continues. “She’s just jealous of her friend’s boyfriend because they’re spending less time together. Everyone loves holding hands and cuddling with their friends.”

The seed cracks slightly, tentative roots emerging and looking for purchase. Buffy thinks of her best friend in middle school. She’d thought Emma was the prettiest, the smartest, the best person in the world. They’d begged their parents to allow sleepovers every weekend, the two of them smushed together in a single bed, talking and sharing secrets. She was inconsolable when Emma made a new best friend.

“You okay, Buffy?” Tara asks softly.

“Yeah,” Buffy says quickly, putting thoughts of the past out of her mind. “Sorry, I was just thinking about this quiz. I’m so not ready.”

“Me either,” Shannon says. “You wanna go over our notes? We still have some time.”

“Yeah,” Buffy says, happy to move to a different topic. She polishes off the taco she’s been working on, then unzips her bag. Pulling her notebook free, she flips to the section on poli sci. “Okay,” she says, dread already setting in, “first up, normative political theory.”

“What is it?” Shannon asks, in a pretty accurate impression of their professor. “And why do we care?”

“We don’t,” Buffy says.

“We don’t,” Shannon agrees, “and we are definitely going to fail this quiz.”

“Give me the notebook,” Tara says, holding her hand out expectantly. “I’ll help.”

XXXXX

Tuesday night finds Buffy back in the same picnic area, sharing a large blanket with Tara, Shannon, and a tall girl introduced to her as Alex. They eat hot buttered popcorn, eyes fixed on the large white screen erected in front of them. Buffy wasn’t expecting it to be a movie night, but then again, she missed most of what TJ said the week before, so that’s probably why. In spite of Shannon warning her at the outset to keep her expectations low (“Gay movies are, like, tragically bad, but you’re going to love it anyway.”), Buffy finds herself quite invested in the story. The two leads are from opposite sides of the tracks, one a social outcast, the other popular, but since talking for the first time, they’ve just clicked. Buffy’s never actually seen a film like this, focused on two girls falling in love. When the movie started, she expected to feel like the fraud she knows herself to be, the straight girl who somehow infiltrated this group watching some cultural other that doesn’t belong to her. Instead, it feels… normal.

Not that she previously thought it wasn’t normal. There were gay kids at Hemery. Less in Sunnydale, but still there was Larry. And Faith is—well—she doesn’t know what Faith is, but she’s something. So other people being gay or kinda gay, that’s normal, but watching this movie… Evie is just a girl with a boyfriend, going about her life. Then she meets Randy and falls in love with her. It can just happen like that, and it doesn’t seem strange to imagine. It seems possible.

On screen, Evie and Randy are in bed. The screen goes into soft focus with dim lighting as it pans up their tangled bodies. Buffy’s face feels warmer and warmer the longer the scene goes on. She takes a surreptitious glance around the group. Most everyone else is watching the movie, a few people chatting quietly amongst themselves. No one else seems to be affected by the scene, one way or another. Her eyes drift back to the screen, where hands are sliding across smooth skin and mouths are meeting. Randy’s leg slides between Evie’s, and Buffy’s thoughts drift back to this morning. 

She’d woken up late, after Willow had gone to class, with the remnants of a dream sliding away from her conscious mind. Some details remained: the feeling of long hair tickling her bare skin, of being warm and excited, brown eyes with long black lashes burning into hers, and the sound of a quiet moan, the voice soft and beautiful to her ears. Before the dream could fade completely, Buffy slid one hand into her pajamas shorts.

An elbow nudges her lightly, pulling her attention back to the present.

Shannon looks at her expectantly. “Sno cap?” She offers, holding out a box of candy.

Buffy accepts the box, shaking a few sno caps into her hand, then passes it off to Alex. At least it gives her something else to focus on. She makes it through the remainder of the movie, her face finally cooling down as the girls go on the run from Evie’s mother and everyone else who wants to find them. By the time the projector screen is being rolled up and Shannon and Alex are folding up the blanket, Buffy’s feeling somewhat steadier, if now slightly confused. She turns down their offer to walk back to the dorms together, pretending she needs to go the opposite way. In reality, she needs to meet Faith for patrol.

As she walks across campus, Buffy ponders, her mind turning the evidence around and around the way it does when she’s trying to solve some slaying-related mystery. Unfortunately, her slayer instincts don’t seem prepared to contribute much to this situation. There’s only her regular Buffy instincts at work, and those aren’t always the most reliable. What does that dream mean? Was there really some ulterior motive in all those sleepovers with Emma? Was that a crush? Has she had other crushes? Maybe on Courtney, the cheer captain at Hemery whose tumbling Buffy envied for her entire first year there? Or maybe she just liked her tumbling. How is she supposed to know? It’s not like there’s anyone she can ask—

Actually…

It occurs to Buffy that there is someone she can ask. The prospect is a little daunting. She and Faith aren’t exactly what she’d call ‘close.’ These days they mostly meet up for patrols and things stay pretty focused on slaying. That isn’t something Buffy’s done intentionally. It’s just that with Xander away for most of the summer, she and Willow spent a lot of one on one time together. Faith and Willow have never been the best of friends, and it just seemed to make sense to keep things separated.

Still, she doesn’t think Faith will laugh at her or be cruel about it. She might be opening herself up to a lot of innuendos and eyebrow raising, but Buffy can handle that. She resolves to bring it up tonight.

Buffy means to, but every time she almost gets there, something happens: a vampire, a group of teenagers having a séance in the cemetery like they don’t live in the town of Sunnydale. By the time they’ve managed all the crises, Faith is beginning to look antsy.

“Should we call it a night?” She asks.

Cursing her bad luck, Buffy nods. The one night when she wants to stay out patrolling late and Faith’s ready to throw in the towel?

Faith slides her stake back into the holster on her thigh. “Wanna meet up tomorrow? Or you wanna do your own thing?”

“I’ll meet you,” Buffy says.

Faith nods.

She’s turning to go, so Buffy forces herself to say, “Wait.”

Turning back around, Faith gives her an expectant look.

“Umm,” Buffy says, so nervous she’s practically vibrating, “I wanted to talk to you about something.”

“Okay,” Faith says, looking a little guarded now. She takes a few steps toward Buffy. “What’s up?”

Buffy hesitates. She and Faith aren’t big on sharing, and she’s not sure how Faith will react to her probing into her personal life. She takes an extra few seconds to hop up onto a tombstone before speaking. “I was wondering, umm, well, how did you know you liked girls?”

Faith’s eyebrows move toward her hairline.

“I mean, I know you like guys,” Buffy hastens to add, “but you like girls too, right?” Her voice squeaks on the last word. Has she gotten this wrong? But she’s definitely seen Faith slinking out the backdoor of the Bronze with her arm around a woman at least twice.

Faith’s expression is suspicious now. “Yeah,” she says.

Buffy waits for her to say more, watching as Faith’s face shifts into a cautious kind of confusion. Finally, Faith adds, “I guess it wasn’t something I really thought about. I just knew. When I started watching The X-Files, I was into Mulder and Scully, you know?”

Buffy nods, although she doesn’t know.

“So, I knew, but then I got older and”—Faith pauses like she’s considering her phrasing—“you know, tried things out. Then I really knew.” She looks at Buffy a little more closely. “Something you wanna share with the class, B?”

Buffy shakes her head quickly. “Just curious,” she says, unwilling to disclose more right now.

Mercifully, Faith lets that go and doesn’t call her on this obvious line of bullshit.

“Thanks,” Buffy adds.

“Right,” Faith says, then tilts her head in the direction of the cemetery exit. “I’m gonna go, unless you’ve got any other curiosities to satisfy.”

She doesn’t say in a particularly lascivious way, but Buffy feels her face warming anyway. She shakes her head. “Goodnight.”

XXXXX

Almost another week passes (which Buffy spends thinking, planning, scrapping her plans as stupid, working up her courage, plummeting into anxiety, and then working up the courage again) before she mentions the subject again. This time, she doesn’t wait for the end of patrol. She spots Faith walking to meet her from the entrance to Restfield Cemetery and squares her shoulders. She is an adult and she’s perfectly capable of making an adult proposition. This will be fine.

“I’ve been thinking about what you said,” Buffy says, in lieu of greeting.

Faith’s just taken a hearty bite of the Twizzler in her hand. She looks taken aback. “What I said when?” She asks, after swallowing.

“Last week,” Buffy says, “about how you knew you liked girls.” She corrects herself firmly, “Women.”

Faith’s lips twitch slightly, and one of her dimples reveals itself. “Okay,” she says neutrally, taking another bite of candy.

“I was asking because I’ve been wondering if I might also be interested in gi—women.”

“I figured.” Faith looks very calm, finishing off her Twizzler as she waits for wherever this is going.

“You said once you tried it, that’s when you knew for sure,” Buffy reminds her.

“Uh huh.”

“So I think I should do that too.”

Faith starts to reply, but Buffy’s too far into her planned speech now to interrupt herself, so she continues, “So would you?”

There. She’s done it. The suggestion is out there, and probably Faith will say yes or at least she’ll be nice if she does say no, so there’s no reason to—

“Would I what?” Faith asks, sounding confused.

Oh. She didn’t actually say the thing. Flustered now, Buffy blurts out, “Would you be the person I try this with?”

The reply isn’t immediate. It takes Buffy a moment to work up the courage to look at Faith. She looks… concerned maybe. Faith says, “Why me?”

“Well,” Buffy starts, feeling on safer ground because she’s gone over all the reasons why it should be Faith with herself already, “we’re friends.” Sort of, anyway. “I trust you.” Mostly.  “And we’re both slayers, so I know I can’t hurt you or anything.”

“Is that a big concern?” Faith asks, not unkindly.

Buffy says, “I don’t know. Maybe. It’s not like I’m super experienced with regular people.” And by not super experienced, she means zero experience.

Faith nods. Buffy feels like she’s crawling out of her skin waiting for Faith to say something, but she forces herself to give it a minute. Faith should be able to consider all the options. Buffy shouldn’t rush her.

Finally Faith says, “So you’re not just talking about kissing or making out or whatever. You want, like, the whole enchilada.”

She hadn’t considered that maybe kissing would be enough. Maybe she’s been a little gung ho here. Then again, how different can kissing Faith really be from kissing a guy (or a vampire in a guy shaped package)? It’s more the ‘under clothes, different parts’ stuff that’s likely to shed some light on the situation, isn’t it? “Umm,” Buffy says, trying to sound more confident than she is, “yeah.”

Faith’s silent for another excruciating minute, then she says, “Okay.”

“Okay?”

“Yeah. I’m down.”

“Oh,” Buffy says, surprised. This is good. This is great even. She’s thrilled (and just a smidge terrified, but this is fine). “I’m… that’s… yay?”

“Yay,” Faith deadpans back, but her eyes are sparkling with amusement.

“When should we, umm? Should we make a plan or…?”

“B,” Faith says fondly, “duck.”

The stake sails over Buffy’s head, sinking into the chest of a vampire who’s been stealthily approaching her from behind.

Buffy winces. Apparently her head is really not in the game.

“Let’s try not to die on patrol,” Faith suggests. “Then we’ll talk about it.”

Buffy nods. That sounds like a good plan. A really good plan. And soon they’ll be making another plan, a more—

“B?” Faith points to the ground at her feet where a hand has just clawed its way through the dirt of the fresh grave.

“Right,” Buffy says. “On it.”