“So let me get this straight,” Buffy began. Several weeks had passed since her unfortunate party experience which, along with giving Faith plenty of time to stop teasing her about it, had also afforded Giles ample opportunity to find out exactly what was going on in Sunnydale. She'd been given bits and pieces of speculation as he came across it, but he seemed to have saved the more in depth information up so he could bombard her with it in one giant overload.

She tried to sift through it, hoping to condense it into something that didn't need fifteen minutes of explanation time. The task might have been easier if it hadn't still been the early hours of the morning, though unlike another Slayer who would remain unnamed, Buffy had at least managed to roll out of bed on time. “A group of seriously bored magic guys come to Sunnydale to open a portal which summons three demons. They in turn want to open a bigger portal so that this Shrek--”

“Shek,” Giles corrected.

“Shek K'zar can bring his army to add our world to their ever growing collection of real-life snow globes.”

Giles gave a short nod. “I suppose that's about the gist of it, yes. Although it's not so much about a bigger portal as a more permanent one. To bend the fabrics of reality is challenging enough, but to do so over an extended period of time adds another level of complexity completely. Reality fights back, if you will; it – it tries to mend itself, to become whole again. I'd say it's likely the very reason the Hellmouth doesn't just spill open of its own accord.”

“OK, so chalk one up for reality. But we think these demons have what it takes to fight harder?”

“According to my research they've managed it before, numerous times in fact. There are even depictions which suggest they came to our plane back in the fifteen hundreds.”

“Right, and you said something about them being stopped? How?” Giles' initial response came only in the form of a creased forehead. “Giles?”

“It, emm, it appears it took an army.”

“An army?”

“The Knights of Byzantium to be specific.”

“Never head of them.”

“Nor had I, but their existence seems to date all the way back to ancient Greece. The order was initially formed to protect King Byzas and the inhabitants of the city of Byzantion from human threats, but as the centuries have passed their focus has shifted more toward the arcane.”

“Did any of your books happen to mention a contact number? You know, a sort of 'call in case of supernatural emergency'.”

“Sadly not.”

“So we're screwed then?” Buffy concluded pessimistically, her lower half disappearing under the table as she slouched down in her chair. If she needed a witch, Slayer, or werewolf then she was good to go, but an army? Not so much.

“Let's not abandon all hope just yet. The Knights of Byzantium were ultimately only humans. Trained to fight, yes, but they had no supernatural speed or strength, and in that department you and Faith have a distinct edge.” Giles frowned again and glanced around the room. “Speaking of which, where is Faith? We were scheduled for training this morning, but perhaps--”

At that moment the shop bell rung out, the girl in question arriving and offering a casual, “Yo,” in greeting.

“Ah, Faith. How are you today?” Giles asked.

“Five by five.”

“Good. I think. And I believe a happy birthday is in order.”

Faith's brow furrowed, and she rubbed at her arm, her gaze landing on the floor in between Buffy and Giles. “Yeah... thanks, I guess.”

Buffy frowned, looking first to Giles and then at Faith. “You didn't tell me it was your birthday.”

Faith shrugged as she met Buffy's eyes. “It's no big deal.”

“Oh it's completely a big deal. In fact, I'm calling for an emergency celebration at The Bronze tonight.”

“Yeah? Let me know how that turns out for you.”

“Come on, Faith,” Buffy whined. “It'll be fun, and I think we're about due huge dollops of that.” Faith continued to look unimpressed with the idea. “If it helps, there'll be no singing or banners. Promise.”

Faith sighed loudly. “Fine, whatever. I'm gonna go change.”

She vanished to the back room with her rucksack, leaving Buffy and Giles alone again.

“She told you?” Buffy asked the second the door swung shut. She felt thrown, even a little hurt, that Faith had mentioned the fact to Giles but not her.

“Hmm?” Giles looked at her for a moment before continuing. “Oh right. No, it's listed in her file.”

“Oh,” Buffy said, instantly brightening a little, “well that's OK then.” As his words sunk in her interest quickly piqued. “Wait. Did you say file?”

“Yes. When Wesley first arrived he brought the notes made by Faith's former watcher, and once he was let go by the council he left without taking them. I thought that if I were to work with Faith then it would be a good idea to take a look.”

Her lips very slowly pursed, her eyes widening slightly as her gaze locked on Giles.

“Absolutely not,” he said instantly, before she'd so much as spoken a word.

Much more quickly, her smile fell into a pout. “How come?” she asked sulkily.

“Because they were taken to help with Faith's training, not for public consumption.”

“And I won't tell anyone. Slayer's honour.” She made a cross over her chest and gave him the sweetest smile she could manage.

“If you wish to know more about Faith's history then you will have to ask her. But you know as well as I do, Buffy, that sometimes a person's past is better left alone.”

Giles' tone had become serious, and she admitted to herself that he was probably right. “Fine.” It wasn't like she wanted to hear the bad things about Faith's life, though she couldn't deny there was a small amount of curiosity there. Mostly she just wanted to know something more about the other girl pre-Sunnydale, and unless it was shop talk then Faith was pretty much avoido-girl. And while she could understand the need for secrecy more than most, that didn't mean she had to like it.

It didn't take too long before something else occurred to her. “Do I have a file?”

“Yes,” Giles drawled, eyeing her cautiously.

“Well can I see that? I already know about my past, what with me being there and all, so no harm right?”

He quickly flustered. “I-I don't think that would be a-appropriate.”

She narrowed her eyes. “Why not?”

“Well, i-it's just – you are – were, that is...” He removed his glasses and began rubbing the bridge of his nose. Buffy kept her eyes on him as she moved her hands to her hips. He looked back at her, and his brow furrowed. He spoke slowly, as if still carefully considering his words. “It can take some time for the real you to shine through.”

Her eyes narrowed further. “Meaning?”

His mouth morphed through a variety of different shapes, but not one of them offered up anything audible.

“Ready when you are,” Faith called, her head popping out through the door from the back room.

“Faith!” Giles all but shouted, scurrying quickly toward her. “Excellent timing. Let's begin straight away, shall we?”

“Lucky,” Buffy called after him, smiling to herself at his concern. “Well I'm going to head, college and all. But I'll see you both tonight.” She looked at Faith. “Nine o'clock sharp. I mean it; there'll be trouble if you're not there.”

Faith flashed her a toothy grin. “Later, B.”

----------

“Buffy?”

“Hmm?” Buffy offered absently, looking up at Willow. There'd been a question, that much she did know. She'd definitely heard the words; she just wasn't sure what order they had come in.

“I'm sure she'll show up soon,” Willow said.

“Who'll show?” Buffy asked, feigning ignorance.

The two of them sat across from each other at The Bronze, with Oz to one side and Xander to the other. Giles had promised to join them later after squeezing in another hour or so of research. Faith was also meant to have been there almost a half hour ago, but so far had been a no show.

“Jabba the hut,” Willow dead-panned. “You haven't gone thirty seconds without looking at your watch.”

“And now I've got this horrible feeling I'm late for something, but I'm not quite sure what,” Oz chipped in.

“Sorry.” Buffy gave a soft sigh. “It's just I've been thinking about it, and last year Faith's birthday was right after that whole Gwendelyn Post thing, which pretty much means she spent it on her own. I don't want her to be left alone again this year.“

Xander casually popped a nacho into his mouth, beginning to speak even as he finished chewing. “Which is perfectly understandable, Buff, but you can't drag her here against her will. Well you could try, but it might get messy.”

“But that's just it, I shouldn't have to. We're her friends. She should want to be here.” Buffy knew that Faith wasn't particularly close to the rest of the gang, but she was really referring to herself rather than anyone else. Sometimes it seemed like every time she thought she was getting closer to Faith the next thing she knew the girl would suddenly be pulling away again. Whatever was going on with her, she didn't seem to trust Buffy enough to let her in on any of it. The problem was, Buffy didn't know what else she could possibly do to change that.

Willow smiled reassuringly. “You never know, maybe she is just running late.”

“Yeah, maybe,” Buffy agreed, not even able to gather together enough belief to convince herself.

----------

Faith picked up her pace, walking as quickly as she could without flat out breaking into a run. Buffy is so going to kill me, she thought. Unfortunately timekeeping had never been her speciality, and she hadn't realized just how quickly the evening had flown by. An X Files marathon had gotten the better of her, but she'd be damned if she couldn't think up something better than that to tell Buffy. She veered off the pavement, knowing she could save a few minutes by cutting through the cemetery. It wouldn't be much, but she figured every little would help. Throw in the fact that she could play the birthday card and maybe she still had some hope of avoiding Buffy's ire.

Having barely passed through the gap in the low, iron railings that surrounded the southern side of the cemetery, a coarse, female scream grabbed her attention. “Score,” she said aloud. There was no way Buffy could be upset with her for turning up late if she'd been busy saving some chick from an untimely death. As a grin spread across her face she took off toward the source of the cry.

“You wanna let her go?” Faith asked as she came to a stop, looking the demon before her up and down. He stood only about a foot taller than her, but he was a lot bulkier and she looked small in comparison. She spotted the large broadsword sheathed at his side, and she glanced inside her jacket at her feeble looking stake.

“Finally,” he muttered, his ugly features showing his irritation. “I was close to giving up and just eating this one, but you shall make for a much finer meal.” With one hand he easily shoved the young woman aside. She crawled along the ground before getting to her feet, and she needed no persuasion from Faith before she took off, running as fast as her high heeled boots could carry her.

“Who the hell are you?” Faith asked, though Giles' rough description of their not so friendly neighbourhood invaders was at the front of her mind.

“I am Tarroth, warrior of Shek K'zar, and I have come to end your life.”

She rose an eyebrow. “Right then. Guess you gotta appreciate the honesty.”

“I offer you the chance to save your world. We will fight to the death, and to the victor will go the spoils.”

Faith smirked and gave a slight nod of her head. “Wouldn't have it any other way.”

Pleasantries over, she dashed forward, launching herself off a tombstone to move quickly through the air. She felt her foot connect hard with the demon's face, but his head barely moved and he let out a barky laugh. “Is that all you have? In my world the title of Slayer is reserved for those who can fight,” he said.

“Just getting started,” Faith shot back, and she tried kicking low instead, hitting the demon in his green kneecap. The result was pretty much the same, and an uppercut sent her soaring back. The grass broke her fall, and she quickly made her way back to her feet. She stretched out her jaws in a couple of directions, confirming they were still in full working order.

Tarroth moved toward her with long strides while she stood her ground. He aimed for her jaw again, but she ducked quickly and threw a flurry of fists into his stomach. His other arm reached out, his plump fingers grabbing her by the neck. She used both her hands to force him off, and she brought the back of his elbow down across her knee. His pained grunt brought a small, satisfied smile to her face, and once more she drove her knee into the joint. He swung his free hand around, and she jumped back, avoiding the contact.

“In my world the title of warrior is reserved for those who can fight,” she mocked as she watched him flex his arm.

He let out a disgruntled snort and drew his sword, grasping the hilt with both hands. “Funny creature. We'll see how entertaining you can be without your tongue.“ For a short time they circled one another, and Faith was more than happy to wait for him to make the first move, if only due to his rather large weapon advantage.

He rushed forward, swinging the sword across her body. She jumped back, arching in her stomach to avoid the tip of the blade. He brought the sword up and across, and she rolled under its arc, coming up on the other side as he turned to face her.

----------

Left sat alone at the table while her friends danced somewhere nearby, Buffy found herself staring at her glass of coke as she repeatedly stabbed at the liquid with her straw. Her half-hearted attempts to pop the bubbles couldn't hold her attention for long though, and after taking another look at her watch she let out a sigh as she got to her feet. She grabbed her jacket off the back of her chair and began to shrug it on.

“Are you going?” Willow asked, appearing from out of nowhere with a surprising finesse.

“I'll be back soon. I just need to go check on Faith.”

“Want us to come with?”

“No, I'm sure it's nothing. Just Faith being Faith.” She could picture Faith sat at home, laid back with her feet up on the sofa and no intention of ever showing up, and she felt a tinge of annoyance that the girl had blown her off. The thought of leaving her to it had crossed Buffy's mind, but ultimately she couldn't bring herself to let Faith spend another birthday alone, even if she was bringing it on herself.

“OK. Well good luck,” Willow said, and she gave Buffy a large, optimistic smile.

----------

Faith turned to her side as another long swing of the broadsword swept past her. She buried a kick in the demon's side and then bounced out of the way as the blade came back across. She backed off and stole a quick glance behind as she searched for inspiration. The cemetery didn't offer a whole lot of options, but she figured she could at least even the odds.

She slowly trailed back, letting the demon keep up. Positioning herself in front of a mausoleum, she waited patiently for the demon to make its move. When it lunged forward sword-first, she quickly stepped to the side and kicked out hard against the fingers that wrapped around the handle. The blade tilted between the metal bars in the mausoleum gate until it locked in place, effectively turning the handle into a mid-air platform that allowed her to grind the heel of her boot into his fingers. He grunted loudly and released his hold, and the sword clattered noisily against the bars as it fell to the ground. He was already reaching down for it with his free hand, but Faith quickly swept it fully into the crypt with her foot, leaving it stuck out of reach behind the barred gate.

His hand seamlessly changed direction, instead coming up to squeeze around her neck, and he drove her hard into the crypt door. Her back arched inward after her spine came into contact with the decorative diamond-shaped lumps that poked from the gate bars, and her eyes squeezed shut as she tried to block out the prickling pain. She didn't see it coming, but her instincts provided her the wherewithal to duck under his attempted backhand in the nick of time.

He managed to take hold of her wrist as she tried to duck past him, and her attempts to pull free proved ineffectual. His other arm swung out, his hand stinging her cheek. He kept his hold, stopping her from pulling away as he repeatedly drove his fist into her face. He reared his arm right back and delivered a final strong blow across her eye as he released his hold, and the impact sent her spinning down to the ground.

She groaned down into the grass, tasting the dew on the blades that had managed to poke their way into her mouth. Her face ached, and she could feel the blood running down from above her right eye. She started to crawl away, trying to give herself some time to recover. His arms firmly grasped her shoulders, and a moment later she was yanked harshly back to her feet. Acting on instinct alone, she rammed her head back into his jaw as hard as she could. If that hadn't been enough to give her a headache then his balled fists clubbing her across the back of the head definitely did the trick.

“You fought bravely, but it is time to end this,” Tarroth said.

Faith was on her knees, trying to shake her dizzied self back into action when she felt the fingers clutch around the back of her neck and begin to squeeze, and she struggled to wrench the tightening vise grip off of her. She couldn't tell if he planned to snap her neck or just rip her head off, but the pressure being applied made her entire body tense up in a lacklustre defence.

“Already? But I just got here.”

Faith heard Buffy's voice only a moment before the grip around her neck vanished, and she allowed herself a couple of seconds to try and rub some feeling back into it before forcing herself up. She turned just in time to watch the demon backhand Buffy to the floor. Still on the ground, the girl swept a leg out in retaliation, but it bounced harmlessly off the demon's stodgy leg.

Faith shot back into action, lashing out a boot into the demon's spine to get its attention. She backed off when he turned to face her, only looking to draw him away while Buffy made it back to her feet. Buffy circled around until she arrived at Faith's side. “I think it's about time to go,” she said.

“What?” Faith asked. “It's two v one now. We can take him.”

“I think we're going to need more than a couple of stakes for this.”

The two of them continued to back away, keeping their distance while Faith considered it. Her sore face and head helped take her to the conclusion that she really wouldn't mind an axe or two. “OK, so do you have an exit strategy?”

“Pretty much that we start running and don't stop until we lose it.”

“Bronze-wards?”

Buffy looked over at her, concern slipping over her features as her eyes travelled over Faith's face. “We should go and get you cleaned up first.”

“I'm fine.”

“Maybe, but they won't let you in The Bronze looking like that. They have a strict no fighting policy. Or at least they try to.”

“Someone should have tried telling that to the jolly green giant.”

----------

Faith unlocked the door to the Summers' residence then stepped aside to let Buffy enter first. The demon may have been strong, but it certainly wasn't quick on its feet, and it hadn't taken them long at all to shake it. Despite that, they'd still taken a longer route than required to get back to ensure they hadn't been followed. Faith certainly didn't want to wake up to find that thing's ugly mug staring down at her.

“Mom?” Buffy called out immediately, even though the house was coated in darkness.

“Working late,” Faith informed her, flipping the switches to illuminate the upper and lower landings.

“Good. She'd only worry if she saw you looking... I mean I think she'll be better off is she doesn't see more examples of just how dangerous what we do is.”

“It's OK, I get it.” Faith didn't feel all that bad considering she'd taken a bit of a beating, though there was still some aching in her face along with a vague pounding notion in the back of her head. She understood that Buffy wanted to keep her mother in the dark and, even if her wounds would be mostly healed by tomorrow, the concern she'd seen on Buffy's face suggested they probably didn't look all that appealing right then.

Faith led the the way to her room, and Buffy vanished briefly before returning with a small, plastic case and a navy wash cloth.

“First aid master Buffy reporting for duty.” Buffy moved close, placing a hand on Faith's shoulder and gently urging her down. “Sit.”

Faith did as she was told, taking a seat at the end of her bed. Buffy remained standing in front of her, opening the small case and laying it on the bed. Faith swallowed, knowing being so close to Buffy was going to be painful. She didn't say a word though, the two of them remaining silent as Buffy gently wiped the cloth back and forth across Faith's face. It had been soaked in warm water and it felt soothing against Faith's skin, but she found herself focused more on the fingers that kept it moving delicately. It would have been so easy to close her eyes and let her thoughts fade away under Buffy's touch, but she figured that might seem just a little bit too weird. Instead she worked on keeping her face neutral, ignoring the goosebumps that began to prickle up her arms.

After taking out a cotton bud and dipping it in the bottle of disinfectant from the medical pack, Buffy's hand moved up under Faith's chin, a single finger nudging her head back. Faith found herself looking straight into Buffy's eyes and was quick to lower her gaze.

She winced automatically as Buffy swabbed the disinfectant along the cut above her eye. “Sorry,” Buffy said softly, and Faith felt the pressure behind the bud lessen as if that would somehow stop the stinging. As Buffy continued to dab carefully at the cuts on her face, Faith's nervousness continued to grow. Buffy had barely laid a finger on her and already she was turning into a mess. She felt completely ridiculous, but she couldn't shut out her feelings, no matter how often she told herself it could only end badly. Her fingers wrapped around the edge of her bed in an effort to stop them from trembling.

“There. Looking as good as new.”

Faith looked up to find Buffy smiling at her. She waited until Buffy's attention moved to returning the medical supplies to the case before letting out the breath she hadn't even realized she'd started holding. “Thanks,” she said, needing a little more of a respite before she could form a more complicated sentence.

Buffy placed the repacked medical supplies and the cloth on the nearby dressing table before returning to Faith. “I should have warned you. Birthdays in Sunnydale? They have a nasty tendency to royally suck.”

Faith gave a small shrug as she looked up again. “I've had worse.” She regretted letting the words slip out the second Buffy's smile shrank. “I just mean it hasn't all been bad,” Faith quickly amended, but Buffy was already regarding her with that small, worried smile. It felt like she'd seen a lot if it lately, and she hated that she was causing Buffy concern. Even from the beginning though, all she'd ever seemed to do was hurt Buffy, and she glumly wondered how she could honestly ever expect Buffy to care about her.

“Ooh, hey, I got you something,” Buffy exclaimed. Not only was her excitement obvious, but its suddenness was enough to startle Faith. Buffy reached inside her coat pocket and pulled out a small, cuboid object wrapped in pink, glitter-laden birthday paper.

“B, you didn't have to...” Faith said, her eyes on the bow-finished present held out in Buffy's small hand.

“Sure I did. It's your birthday.” Buffy waggled the gift up and down, urging Faith to take it, and then she watched with a large smile on her face as Faith tried to pry a way through the tight wrapping. “Sorry, I'm a complete sellotape fiend. I can get through an entire roll on like three presents.”

“No kidding,” Faith replied before she finally managed to work a fingernail under the tape, peeling back the wrapping at one end and carefully shaking out the small box onto her palm.

“Sorry if it's not really your thing,” Buffy added as Faith opened the box, “but you didn't exactly leave me with a whole lot of prep time.”

Faith was too busy looking at the contents to try and defend herself. Inside, a miniature cross charm hung from a silver chain-link bracelet. She slipped her fingers under the chain and lifted it out, letting the cross sway back and forth as it dangled down. “It's really nice,” she said softly. “Thanks.”

“You're welcome, Faith.” Buffy pointed at the cross. “And look, if you ever get attacked by a really small vampire, now you're prepared.”

“Thank you,” Faith repeated, her eyes transfixed on the chain. It had been a long time since she'd even bothered to celebrate her birthday, yet alone received any presents, and she hadn't even considered that Buffy might get her something. She looped the chain around her wrist, but her fingers were still shaking and she couldn't steady them for long enough to line up the small hook of the clasp.

“So much for that fabled Slayer dexterity,” Buffy ribbed playfully.

“Pent up adrenaline from the fight. Can barely keep my fingers still.” A complete lie, but also the closest thing to the truth that Buffy was going to get from her.

“Here, let me.”

Buffy sat down by her side and reached out to gently take hold of her hand. Faith didn't object, letting her arm be pulled out to rest across Buffy's knee. She was suddenly glad that at least her hands hadn't started sweating, though she figured they might be about to if she couldn't put some distance between the two of them real fast. It didn't help that she could feel Buffy's leg brushing ever so slightly against her own, or that she was inhaling the warm, rich scent of berries emanating from the neck positioned only inches away.

“There.” It had only taken Buffy a second to do what Faith had been unable to, but then Faith didn't have the luxury of feeling even remotely at ease. Buffy looked so comfortable, so assured, their closeness not seeming to drive her insane like it was doing to Faith. Faith was well aware that Buffy's fingers still lingered on the back of her hand, and that Buffy's thumb still pressed against her palm. “You sure you're feeling OK?” Buffy asked, thin, light lines showing themselves on her forehead.

Faith wanted to open her mouth to say something, or to at least give a reassuring nod in reply, but neither one happened. Instead, before she'd even had time to realize what was happening, she'd shot forward to close the gap.

Her lips moved eagerly when they met Buffy's, her pulse frenzying from the agonizing concoction of fear and desire, every thought aligning in one single direction. It couldn't last though, just like it seemed nothing good ever could. Within a second she had become exceptionally aware that the kiss was completely one sided. Buffy hadn't pulled away, but nor did her lips press back against Faith's, and that very realization crushed her spirit. With no return of passion, the feeling of the warmth from Buffy's lips against her own faded away, and she was left only with the sensation of a lifeless mouth that clearly wanted no part of her. She pulled away, reluctantly forcing her eyes to creep open, dreading the sight she'd find in front of her.

Buffy was looking to her side, her gaze focusing somewhere past Faith's head, and Buffy sucked in her bottom lip. The slow, slight movement could easily have gone unnoticed by most, but not by Faith, who busied herself watching for any reaction. Every reaction. She'd acted without meaning to, their close proximity not leaving her enough time to fight the desire to be just that little bit closer still. Her nerves had caught up though, and they were making up for lost time as they effortlessly swatted away her temporary flicker of bravery. Or stupidity. She watched Buffy's eyes. Her mouth. Every feature intently as she waited for a sign.

It wasn't Buffy's still face that gave anything away though. The girl slid from the bed, rising to her feet without a sound, and Faith swallowed hard as she watched her move away, managing only to stop the smallest amount of air from escaping while the rest was violently torn from her body. She stared straight ahead, her unfocused eyes lining up with Buffy's stomach.

Gathering the nerve to look up felt more painful than the beating she'd taken earlier, and when she finally managed it she found Buffy's hands cradling the sides of her neck. The room wasn't particularly large, and yet it seemed to take Buffy an eternity to cross it as she paced at an almost inhumanly slow speed.

Faith realized she could try and take it all back, apologize, maybe even blame it on a head injury; anything to ensure that Buffy wouldn't walk away in disgust. They were the words that made the most sense, but they were also the ones she wanted to say the least. The alternative though – she couldn't even begin to bring herself to dwell on it. In the end the only word she managed to push out was the one constantly wedged at the centre of her thoughts. “Buffy.”

She watched helplessly as the girl came to a halt, knowing she could do nothing more than wait. Buffy's chest rose as she drew in a slow, steady breath. “Everyone will start worrying,” she said, her voice noticeably even. “We should get back.”

Faith felt sick. Physically, mentally, in every way she'd ever known. If she'd tried to stand up she thought she might have unravelled right there until there was nothing more of her than a crumpled heap of parts on the floor. “You go,” she managed to get out, her head dipping. “I'm good here.”

The silence was unbearable, and even throughout the Summer the room had never felt so hot and stuffy, the air so dry and harsh. Faith would have given her left arm to know what was going through Buffy's head. And then if needs be she'd have given up everything else to make Buffy forget.

“Are – are you sure?” Buffy asked finally.

No part of Faith could feel the brave smile that she forced to her face. The muscles in her neck stubbornly fought her all the way as she tried to drag her head to look up, and the effort it took pushed her another step closer to falling off her precarious perch at the edge of the cliff. It was all for nothing; while Buffy was facing her way, her eyes looked straight over Faith's head. She hovered at the door, one hand already loosely wrapped around the handle. “Yeah. Think I've had enough action for one night.”

“OK,” Buffy replied quietly. She hovered in place for a few more seconds, and Faith desperately hoped that Buffy had something more to add. She needed Buffy to push her to go or to offer to stay with her. Just the smallest of signs might have been enough to give her hope that she hadn't messed everything up.

That hope didn't come, and before they'd so much as made eye contact Faith found herself sat in silence, alone, staring at the spot where Buffy had stood less than a minute ago. "Fuck," she muttered, a balled fist taking her anger out on the unsuspecting mattress. Eighteen years old and she was still screwing up everything. She slunk her way back up the bed until her head tipped back to rest against the headboard.

For several long minutes she simply lay in place, her eyes on the ceiling, her breathing becoming progressively more ragged even as she fought to hold herself together. It was a battle she was in no condition to win, and it was only a matter of time before tears began streaming from her eyes. She rolled lifelessly onto her side as she sobbed and sniffled uncontrollably. Her head buried itself in a pillow as she tried to shut out the sound of her own rough whimpers. For the first time in a long while she felt so utterly broken, and her body shook fiercely until it had nothing left to give. Only once every remaining shred of energy had been expelled out down her cheeks could she finally stop crying for long enough to fall sleep.