“No one put you in charge, so why should you get the first shot?” Tarroth inquired with no small amount of fuss.

The three demons were alone down in the sewers, the group of cultists nowhere to be seen. A number of burning candles had been affixed to the walls, one pair of them casting light down over a variety of mutilated demon remains.

“Beauty always goes first,” Nassnia replied calmly.

Tarroth's undignified snort made his thoughts on the matter clear. “There's nothing more beautiful than my blade.”

“And there's nothing more foolhardy than your mouth,” Slarrine shot at him, not bothering to rise from her seated position against the nearby wall.

His eyes narrowed, his beefy hand moving to rest on the hilt of the weapon fixed by his side. “You had better watch yours, witch, or I'll have your tongue on my mantle.”

Slarrine's eyes flashed, and electricity crackled as it danced across her slender, stretched out fingers.

“Enough,” Nassnia interrupted. “This isn't a game. Nothing can be allowed to interrupt our work here. You know the price we will all face for failure. No, I will take care of the Slayers discretely.”

“You have a plan?” Slarrine asked, her eyes finally leaving Tarroth as she regarded the other female demon with interest.

“They are known to be strong in body, but much like all animals their minds will be weak. Susceptible to their fears, to the darkest thoughts that they fight so hard to keep locked away. Once I open up the path, they won't be able to ignore them. Even the smallest of ideas can thrive and grow until nothing else matters. Intoxicating. Unrelenting. And then – then they will tear each other apart.”

Her words were enough to sate even Tarroth, a grin stretching out his face as he gleefully nodded his silent agreement.

----------

Buffy parried Faith's right hook, and her counter effort was blocked in turn. She jumped back, narrowly avoiding Faith's outstretched leg as it kicked out at her stomach. They circled one another, their feet barely landing on the ground before they were moving again, both of them watching carefully as they waited for the other to drop their guard.

“That the best you got?” Faith challenged, one corner of her mouth turning up. She feigned a lunge forward, pulling back before Buffy's roundhouse kick could connect.

Buffy didn't feign anything; she leapt forward, the toe of her shoe catching Faith right in the kidney. Faith barely flinched, her right hand circling around to connect with Buffy's face. She tried to follow up with her left hand, but Buffy reacted fast to catch it mid-flight, twisting it around with both hands until she had it locked behind Faith's back.

“Better?” she countered, her head peering over Faith's shoulder.

Faith threw her head out, catching Buffy by surprise. A jolt of pain shot across the side of her head, and her grip on Faith's arm loosened as she tried to shake off the hit. Faith reached behind with her free arm, wrapping it tightly around the back of Buffy's head. She pulled as she bent forward, and Buffy flipped straight over her back in one smooth motion.

Down just as quick, Faith straddled Buffy and used her size advantage to keep the girl's arms pinned up above her head. Buffy tilted her body left, then right, but she was unable to shake Faith off. “Give it up, B. You lose.”

“Not today, Faith.” Buffy pressed her foot up into Faith's midsection, then rolled herself back as she pushed her leg out hard. Faith went flying up and over Buffy's head, leaving the safety of the thick, blue mats altogether. Buffy continued to roll through, coming to her feet just as Faith landed back first on the hard gym floor with a painful thud.

Faith grunted in pain, and the swoosh of air that left her lungs was enough to make Buffy cringe. “Sorry?” she said tentatively.

Faith gingerly made her way to her feet, her hand rubbing at the small of her back. “Oh you are so going to get it now,” she said as she started to close in once more.

“Whoa, time out!” Buffy said quickly, taking a step away and forming a T shape with her hands.

Faith came to a standstill, her look lost somewhere between disappointment and disbelief. Strands of her dark hair flung from side to side as she shook her head. “No way. Since when do we have time outs?”

“Since my Psych 101 class starts soon and I'm not going anywhere without taking a shower first.” She was still breathing hard as she looked down at the dark patches on her white vest top. “I smell like I haven't washed in a week.”

“Well I didn't want to be the one to say anything...”

Buffy picked up the bag containing Faith's clothes and threw it at the girl's stomach, but Faith only needed one hand to intercept it with ease. “Come on,” Faith complained, “you can't leave me hanging. Things were just starting to get good.”

“You know, if you're itching for a fight you can always go train some with Giles.” She gave Faith a sweet smile. “Then maybe I won't always kick your ass so much.”

“As if. I just went easy on you because you looked all coy and helpless.” She swung the backpack over one shoulder. “Besides, I'm sure Giles has more important things to do than spend time training me.”

“Trust me, he is definitely not too busy. The other day I caught him watching some old videotapes of--”

“Porn?” Faith cut in.

“No, thankfully not,” Buffy said, looking at the other girl disapprovingly. She shook her head, trying to wipe the very idea from existence, and it took her a moment to regain her train of thought. “Some British game show where they had to make words from a bunch of random letters. Then in the math round, when the presenter was a number out he started shouting at the TV that she's a bloody pillock. The man needs a hobby. Stat.”

Faith laughed, but it didn't sound all that convincing. “Well, maybe. I'll see. I have some other stuff to take care of as well.”

“Like what?” Buffy asked, raising an eyebrow sceptically. “In fact, what do you even do all day? Maybe Giles isn't the only one who needs a hobby.”

Faith pulled her stake out from behind her back and waved it in front of her. “Already got one, B.”

“Not really much of a daytime activity though.” Buffy paused before her eyebrows narrowed suspiciously. “Hey, wait a minute. Why did you have that thing there when we were training?”

Faith gave a lazy shrug and grinned. “Just in case you got out of hand.”

Buffy couldn't help but grin back as she shook her head at Faith's antics. “Well I really do need to head,” she said, taking a step back, “but I'll see you tonight for patrol?”

“Sure thing.”

“OK then.” Buffy gave Faith a final smile before turning and making her way out of the college gym.

----------

Almost back to Buffy's house, Faith decided she needed to do something about the feeling in her gut. She'd been unable to shake it for a couple of blocks and it only continued to grow stronger. It was a feeling she'd come to rely upon often; one that let her know when there was danger lurking nearby. With the sun well up into the sky she didn't expect to be jumped by a gang of bloodsuckers, but she knew demons didn't need to stick to the same office hours.

She slowed her pace just a little, aiming to let her pursuer catch up without being too obvious about it, and she waited for the presence to close in. It didn't take long before soft footsteps approached from behind. Spinning around at the last possible moment, her hand shot out, and she easily pinned the assailant to the nearby tree by his neck. “Just try it, punk,” she dared him.

He stood perfectly still, his wide, circular eyes and dropped jaw helping to paint the picture of pure horror on his face. Faith's brow furrowed, and her eyes drifted down to find the bag of overflowing newspapers that hung by his side. “You're delivering papers?” she said, mostly to herself.

The young teenager tried to respond, managing nothing more than a series of unintelligible noises, and Faith quickly pulled her hand back. He bent over as he practically coughed his lungs out, his hand reluctantly dabbing at the skin of his reddened throat.

“Right,” Faith said, taking a step back and shaking her head. “Yeah, sure. Good luck with that.” Before he had time to recover, she was already moving again, her pace quickening as she looked to make a hasty getaway. “Get a grip,” she muttered to herself, refusing to pay any more heed to the niggling that continued at the back of her mind.

Almost moving at a slow jog, it took no time at all before she arrived to an empty house. After stopping just long enough to dump her bag inside her room, she continued straight for the bathroom, a cold shower her number one priority.

Despite what she'd told Buffy, she had no real plans for the day, but begging Giles to train with her featured pretty damn low on her list of life goals. The only real interaction she'd had with him in months had come when Buffy had been visiting her father for a week over Summer and some prophetic demon duo had gotten his panties in a twist. Faith had dutifully stepped in to save the day – if only because she'd promised Buffy she'd cover for her – and since then she'd heard nothing. The other Scoobies weren't much different, but it didn't really matter; she'd stuck around Sunnydale for exactly one person, and it sure as hell wasn't a middle-aged ex-librarian.

Shower then power nap, she decided as she began peeling off her sticky clothes. The training with Buffy had gotten pretty intense, and now it seemed to be catching up with her. Suddenly feeling borderline exhausted, she figured that any potential productivity could hold on for at least a few more hours.

----------

“Wow, she's really something, isn't she?”

“What?” Buffy asked, confusion growing on her face as she turned to lay eyes on the boy sat next to her. “Who?”

“Professor Walsh,” he replied. “Very intense.”

“Yeah, I guess,” Buffy said non-committally. All around them, people were getting up and beginning to make their way from the hall, and only then did she realize the lecture was actually over. Of course she had no intention of admitting that she'd started to zone out just a little. “I mean absolutely. That bit about the... psychology... just, wow.” She widened her eyes in an attempt to demonstrate her faux-amazement.

He let out a small laugh. “I'm sure it'll grow on you. It can be a bit slow to start with. I'm Jacob, by the way,” he said, before standing up and sticking out his hand. “Reynolds.”

Buffy stood to shake his hand, paying him her full attention for the first time. He stood only a couple of inches taller than her, with a frame not much larger either, and curly, dark brown hair hung down almost to eyes of the same colour. “Buffy Summers.”

“Pleased to meet you.” He motioned for her to go first, then followed behind as they joined the herd heading for the door. “So, Buffy Summers, how was your first week at college?”

“Surprisingly quiet, actually,” she said chipperly.

“You mean in those short times between the near constant stream of partying?”

It wasn't quite what she'd been referring to, her thoughts reserved for the more supernatural element of her life, though in truth her night life had been somewhat tame in all areas as of late; ever since her and Angel had had the talk. The one that descended into shouting, moved on to crying, and then finally ended when they both reached the conclusion they had already known – they could never be together. Angel had told her it would be easier for both of them if he left town. And then just like that he disappeared to Los Angeles.

The following few weeks remained somewhat of a blur. She did remember the heartbreak though, and then the heartache that naturally followed. Keeping to herself in her room, she spent most of her time switching between moping and crying. With school finished and college yet to begin, there had been little to distract her from the pain. Things hadn't started to look up until Faith had all but dragged her from her room, sometimes for Slaying, and sometimes not. She had even been convinced to see unknown rock bands in gloomy rooms, and the loud, often angry noises had verged on therapeutic. At times, the distractions Faith offered seemed to be the only thing that had kept her from falling apart.

She considered just how fast he'd run away if she unloaded all of that on him, and it brought a small smile to her face. “I'm kinda working my way up to that,” she said instead. “Didn't want to exhaust all my energy in the first week.”

“Aah, very wise, though perhaps a little tricky if you're staying in halls.”

“Stevenson,” she confirmed, “and yeah, I've noticed those people aren't afraid to get a little rowdy. You?”

“Off campus.” Buffy looked back over her shoulder to raise a questioning eyebrow. “Late admission,” he clarified. “I still live pretty close though, so it's not so bad.”

As the students spilled out into the hallway, Buffy and Jacob came to a stop. “Well I've got another class to get to,” she said, pointing down the hallway with her thumb. “But maybe I'll see you around?”

She gave him a small smile and he returned the gesture. “Maybe you will.”

----------

Faith stood staring at the body of Alan Finch as it lay slumped down against the wall of a dingy alleyway, his chin drooped against his chest, a thin trail of blood leaking from one side of his parted mouth. The muscles in her fingers loosened up, and as her fist unclenched, the knife escaped from her hand. She didn't react, barely noticing as it clanged loudly against the floor.

“Faith.”

She turned around. She already knew exactly who had called out her name, but that couldn't stop her horror from escalating when she found herself looking into the widened, blue eyes.

“What have you done?” It may have been phrased like a question, but it was nothing more than a thinly veiled accusation, and one that made Faith visibly flinch.

“It – it was an accident.” Faith looked from Finch to Buffy, and then took a step back, trying to distance herself from the look of disgust forming on Buffy's face.

“Was it?” Buffy stepped forward, instantly closing the gap again. “Admit it, Faith: you enjoyed it. It opened your eyes. It showed you who you really are. A cold-blooded killer.”

“No.” Faith shook her head weakly, the energy leaking out from her body, her face turning pale as it dragged the colour with it.

Buffy took another step forward, and Faith stumbled over the curb as she tried to retreat, falling back onto the rough gravel pavement. She put her hand out behind her as she tried to pull herself away, and the skin on the palm of her hand ripped open against the serrated edge of a discarded tin can.

“I have to do this. You know I can't let you hurt anyone else.” Buffy's voice came out cold and hard, free from any emotion. Her knees bent, lowering her body to the ground. Her fingers wrapped around the handle of the dropped knife, and Faith found her eyes locked to it. She recognised it instantly – the curved handle, the split blade; how could she ever forget? She couldn't look away, her frightened gaze following it back up as Buffy rose.

“I won't,” Faith promised. “I swear.”

Buffy flicked her wrist, giving the knife a single, sinister twirl. “You'll never stop. You can't. This is what you'll always do; who you'll always be.” Another deliberately slow step forward, and then she was in striking range.

Faith couldn't move. Her legs wouldn't respond, even as she silently pleaded with them to take her away. Doing the only thing she could to defend herself, she put her hand out in front of her face, ignoring the trickle of blood that ran from her palm down across her wrist. It did her no good though; Buffy aimed lower, and Faith's ribcage could offer little protection from the thrust of a Slayer. The silver blade slid smoothly into her chest while she could do nothing more than look up into Buffy's hollow eyes.

----------

Faith sat up on top of her bed, her breathing fast and harsh, sweat rolling down from the top of her head. She wiped her hand across her forehead, soaking up the moisture, before holding it on the side of her flushed face. She stayed rooted in place, the only movement coming from her shaky arms, and she spent what little energy she had left holding back the urge to cry.

She expected the nightmares. She expected Finch and the mayor and her watcher. She even expected Xander and Angel. But it had been a long time since Buffy had appeared in her nightmares, her presence usually reserved for Faith's better dreams. Even back then, back when her and Buffy had been on opposing sides, the images had never felt so visceral. So damning.

Unable to shake the look on Buffy's face, Faith could do nothing more than sit there, staring blankly at the wall in front of her bed. She barely registered the knock at the door, only coming back to life when she heard Buffy's voice.

“Faith? Are you in there?”

Her eyes twitched nervously, and she glanced around the room for an exit before she managed to process the situation. It wasn't real, she told herself. It was only a dream. It didn't mean anything.

“Faith?” Buffy called out again, and the knocks that followed were louder.

“Yeah, just a minute,” Faith managed to get out, and she could hear the tremors in her own quiet voice. Slipping off the side of the bed, her knees buckled as she tried to stand up, and her hand shot down to the bed, steadying herself until her legs could support themselves. Realizing then just how dark it was, she turned on the beside lamp, casting the room in a dim, orange glow. Her eyes landed on the glass pane of the window, the curtains still drawn back, and she realized it was already nightfall. She took a long, loose-fitting shirt from a drawer and pulled it over her head before moving to the door. Opening it just a crack, she found Buffy stood on the other side, her worried features a polar opposite to the uncaring face in her dream. “Hey,” Faith said, hoping she sounded as casual as she'd tried to be. “What's up?”

“Hey. Are you OK?”

“Why wouldn't I be?” Faith replied, forcing a smile to her face.

“You didn't show for patrol. I was worried.”

“Oh. Right.” Faith couldn't believe she'd slept through the entire day, and worse still, she felt far more tired than she had done that morning. Too tired to think up a convincing excuse on such short notice. “Sorry, I didn't realize what time it was.”

Buffy watched Faith carefully, her eyes probing for answers. Faith could see it clearly, the way Buffy searched for deceit, already expecting it, and Faith spent the short silence trying to act natural.

“Are you sure everything's OK?”

Faith mentally scolded herself when she realized the absurdity of the thoughts running through her head. She figured she had yet to fully awaken. That her thoughts were still concerned with her nightmare world. Buffy wasn't there to spy on her – they were friends; she was showing concern.

“Faith?”

She looked at Buffy, unsure of what she should be saying. It took a few seconds before she remembered the question. “I'm just tired. Long day, and I didn't get much sleep last night.”

“Is there anything I can do?”

“No,” Faith said instantly, shaking her head. Buffy's eyebrows pinched together. “Thanks,” she added when Buffy tried to speak up. “Just need to get some rest.” More silence followed, and Faith found her feet starting to fidget.

“OK. Well I'll swing by tomorrow.” Buffy lingered for another moment, and Faith fought the urge to look away. Her hand tightened around the the door handle as she tried to keep herself still. “Take care of yourself.”

“Yeah. You too.”

Buffy started to turn away, and Faith didn't need any more of an opening. She shut the door, her hand staying firmly clasped around the handle to make sure it stayed that way. Leaning forward, her forehead rested against the wood as she closed her eyes, and she felt a twinge of relief as she heard Buffy's footsteps receding down the stairs.

“What the hell is wrong with me,” she muttered.

----------

“Not that I'm complaining, but what are you still doing here?” Joyce asked. “Don't you have class in the morning?”

“Yeah,” Buffy said absently as she followed her mother through into the kitchen. She watched while her mom, already in her dressing gown and ready for bed, poured herself a glass of water. “It's no biggie though. I can get back in time in the morning.”

“You're staying the night?”

“Sure. I mean that's OK, right?”

“Of course, sweety. I already had your bed made up for you, just in case you stopped by. Let me just go get you some clean towels and then you're good to go.”

“Thanks.”

As her mom headed for the hallway, Buffy quickly fell into line behind her, trailing her as she moved through the hallway and up the stairs to the linen closet. Her mom looked back over her shoulder, watching her with a small amount of concern. “Is everything going well at college?”

“Absolutely,” Buffy replied brightly, making sure to put some extra pep behind it.

College wasn't the issue; no, the problem lingered much closer to home. Faith was up to something. She could feel it, and she had a pretty good idea what. The girl had weaselled her way into Buffy's home, and why would she do that if not to get to her mother? It made perfect sense; all part of an elaborate plan set up by the mayor. And she'd fallen for it. Her fists clenched shut at the very thought, the anger beginning to stir up inside her. She wouldn't let it happen though. When Faith made her move, she'd be ready; and she'd make sure Faith would never hurt anyone again.