“I can't believe they banned me from the mall,” Buffy complained. It had been some time since her and Willow had been promptly escorted outside by not just one but an entire team of security guards, but the repercussions had only just started to properly sink in. “Where am I supposed to shop now? What will I wear? How will I buy people Christmas presents?” She sounded more frantic with each question.

“I can't believe they only banned you for a month,” Willow replied, ignoring Buffy's plight. “You beat up Santa. In front of children. Even I was kind of upset, and I'm a Jew.”

“It's not my fault. He was supposed to be a demon.”

“Did you try explaining that to the nice security men?”

Buffy shot Willow a warning look. “Careful. That Santa might not be the last person I beat up today.”

Willow smiled meekly. “Err, let's just remember, the important thing is we have a new lead.”

Buffy stopped and looked around as the two reached an intersection. They'd already been trailing around aimlessly for longer than she would have liked, and things didn't look like they were about to pick up. After seeing nothing more suspicious than yet another row of buildings she opted to take a left turn for no particular reason. “Right. Somewhere on the industrial estate. Why couldn't it have been on the industrial road? Or better yet, in the industrial building. This could take forever.”

“But on the plus side – not a whole lot of festivities up this way. I'll bet he'll stand out like a – well, like a Santa in an industrial estate,” she finished with gusto, drawing a sideways glance from Buffy.

----------

Faith scowled at the sight of her own face as she stared into her bedroom mirror. She'd hoped an application of black eye-liner would help mask the bags that had formed under her eyes, but it had only drawn more attention to them. She sighed in defeat; tears clearly weren't good for the skin. After hastily applying a thick layer of ruby lipstick and grabbing her leather jacket off her bed, she headed for the stairs. It's not as if she'd expected to run into anyone human, but she hated the thought that she looked like a weepy, lovestruck mess. More importantly, if she did run into Buffy then she wasn't about to give the girl the satisfaction of knowing how easily she'd fallen apart.

“Are you going out?”

Knelt down in the hallway, she'd barely finished pulling up her knee-high boots when Joyce's head poked out from the living room.

“Patrolling,” Faith said as she rose to her feet.

“Are you sure you're feeling up to it?” The concern in Joyce's voice was difficult to miss, but Faith knew the only things that needed to start worrying were any vampires she might run into. She was willing to admit she'd been in better states of mind, but she figured if anything could put her back on track it would be a little late night ass kicking.

No matter how tempting it might have been, pining over Buffy wasn't going to get her anywhere. Buffy had already made her choice, and Faith needed to make hers. She needed more time to decide exactly what that might entail, but long-term she knew she couldn't stay at the Summers' residence. Even Sunnydale itself was starting to seem like a bad place to stick around; everywhere she'd go she'd risk running into memories waiting to kick her back down again.

For the night she'd stick to the short term though, and that meant doing what she did best. If she got lucky maybe she'd even run into that green-skinned freak again. She pulled open the front door. “I'm up to it.”

“Why don't you wait for Buffy first? I'd feel better if the two of you were out there together.”

A twinge of sadness shot through her, and her shoulders involuntarily stiffened, the tension running down her arms until her grip on the doorknob tightened so much that she almost pulled it clean off. Her eyes closed for just a moment and a deep breath kept her as steady as she was going to get any time soon. “Buffy's not coming,” she said firmly, stepping outside and forcing the door shut hard before Joyce could question her further.

----------

A small, white van appeared across the street, and Buffy quickly pushed Willow flat against the nearby building, eliciting a surprised squeak. “Sorry,” Buffy murmured, holding the girl in place as she peaked around the corner to keep her sights on the van. It was far from the first vehicle they'd passed, but as nightfall had arrived the entire place had quickly become desolate. They were also running out of real estate to check, and their current, run-down location was about as far away from the central roads as possible. All in all, as far as Buffy was concerned, that made the van a good candidate for suspicious activities.

The vehicle pulled up alongside a second identical van that had already been positioned in the small parking lot at the back of a decrepit looking building. Unlike many of the other buildings and factories in the industrial estate, there was no logo or name indicating what one could expect to find inside. The brick walls were left bare but for some illegible graffiti and a stack of wooden crates piled up at one side of a door that was seriously in need of a re-painting.

“Maybe now's a good time to call in the backup,” Willow suggested as she tried to peer around Buffy to get a better view.

“Come on, Will, we can handle one little demon,” Buffy replied absently, her focus still set on the van. The doors simultaneously opened on both sides, two figures emerging from the front seats, each of them decked from head to toe in red and white. “Or two,” she amended. “We can handle two medium to large demons.”

“And what about ten?” Willow asked. “We don't know how many of them are in there. Or even what they are.”

“It'll be fine,” Buffy reassured her.

“Buffy, you know I'll always stand by you, no matter what, but whatever it is Faith's done to upset you – I'm not really sure I want to die over it.”

“She hasn't upset me. We're fine.”

“You really expect me to believe that? For the past month I've barely seen the two of you apart, and now you've been avoiding her all day. And let's not forget how you almost had a stroke when you ran into that brunette a few blocks back.”

“I did not,” Buffy defended. The girl in question had just happened to be lurking sneakily around a corner and had taken her by surprise, she thought to herself. “And I haven't been avoiding anyone.”

“Fine. Call her then. Right now.” Willow crossed her arms firmly in front of her chest and stood watching Buffy expectantly.

“What?” Suddenly feeling painfully uncomfortable, Buffy had to force the word out from where it had gotten stuck in her throat. “Why?”

“Why not?” Willow immediately countered.

“Willow, you're being ridiculous.”

“Me? You're the one about to get us both killed, and if I'm going to die then I think I at least deserve to know why.”

“Fine, why don't you stay here then? If I'm not back in ten minutes then you can go get help.”

“Oh, good idea, and then we can all carry your dead body out together. That'll be fun,” Willow shot back, her words oozing with sarcasm.

Buffy's patience was running thin, and her heightened emotions were starting to intermingle. “What the hell is your problem?” she demanded angrily.

“My problem? You're the one who won't stop and think for two seconds.”

“I've stopped, I've thought, and I've decided. In case you've forgotten, this is what I do. Whether you want to come or not is up to you, but I'm going to do my job.”

Buffy strode away, crossing the road toward the building without even bothering to check for traffic. The two arrivals had vanished, but the door to the building stood slightly ajar and Buffy beelined right for it. It only took a few seconds before she heard the clip-clop of Willow's quick footsteps as the girl ran to catch up. “Just so we're clear,” Willow whispered as she came to a stop, close enough that she almost knocked straight into the back of Buffy, “if we die you're not getting a Christmas present this year.”

----------

“Are you sure this is a good idea?” Jacob positioned himself to lean against the side of the room as he watched Ethan Rayne kneel on the floor in the middle of a black, neatly drawn pentagram.

“What is the festive season if not a time for a little magic?”

“You've already made the paper three times now, and people are going to start noticing a string of unexplainable deaths,” Jacob warned.

Ethan let out a dry laugh. “This is Sunnydale. You'll find that nobody notices much of anything around here. It's about the only good thing this dreary, little town has going for it. Besides, I need to do something to keep myself entertained whilst I'm stuck here waiting for your new friends to do their damned job.”

“I told you already, it'll be over before you know it.”

“Now where have I heard that before,” Ethan said in mock thought. He ran a knife over the palm of his hand, wincing as his skin cut open, and then he pushed his hand flat against the forehead of a gargoyle-esque stone statue. “Oh that's right, that'd be from you. Three times now if I recall correctly, and yet somehow the Slayer count still seems to be at an all time high. Tell me, how does that work exactly?”

“So things haven't gone exactly as planned, I'll admit that. The Slayers have an annoying habit of showing up for each other. Tonight it won't matter though. Faith will be gone for good, and even if Buffy and everyone she knows tries to interfere... well let's just say there'd be a sudden dip in the Sunnydale population.”

The blood crept from Ethan's wound and trickled down the statue, slowly collecting together in the basin that surrounded the statue's clawed feet. A small pedestal stood in the middle, and perched on top of that were a pile of plastic lockets.

His interest in Jacob's promises was minimal. “I'll believe it when there's a cold, hard corpse making me a very rich man. Until then, be quiet. If your blathering makes me mess this up then I'll make sure I find out what your greatest fear is.”

He had barely began to start chanting when the loud sound of clanging metal vibrated through the walls, and Ethan's eyes instantly rose to the closed door that separated the two rooms. “That didn't sound good.”

----------

Buffy tossed the steel sheet aside; the huge, head-shaped indentation had left it in a less than useful state. Before the cheerily-dressed demon could regain its senses she moved forward to deliver a kick to its sternum.

When a large, white beard and a low-hanging, red hat had been covering the vast majority of its head, she had understood how the creature could pass for human in a barely lit tent. A human with some serious skin irritation issues and a pair of way too creepy, beady eyes, sure, but a human none-the-less. After the hat had been lost in the fight, and with the beard currently hanging loosely around its neck, it suddenly looked a lot more questionable for the role.

It punched out and she caught hold of its fist, twirling her body around until its arm twisted tightly before hauling it forward over her shoulder.

“Buffy, to your left!”

She turned the instant she heard Willow's shouted warning and was able to duck in time to narrowly avoid the swing of a large wooden crate. It exploded into a mess of wooden panels and shards as it came into contact with the wall, and from her lowered position Buffy thrust her shoulder forward into the second demon's stomach, tackling it to the floor. She pulled out her stake and forced it deep into the demon's chest, keeping it pressed in place until only a corpse remained.

Willow's shriek had her back on her feet in an instant, and seeing the third and final demon towering above the girl, Buffy rushed forward without thinking, only to run straight into the arm that suddenly stretched out in front of her. It caught her right across the neck, and she could do nothing but brace herself as her back met the cold, hard floor. She cried out as she was harshly dragged up by her hair, and before she could react she found herself flying through the air, ploughing straight through a stack of crates.

She scrambled up to meet the attacker's approach head on, parrying the first punch and swinging her torso back to avoid the second. She jumped up, grabbed hold of the overhanging pipe, and kicked out with both legs, sending it staggering back the way it had come. A collection of metal pipes stood against a nearby pillar, and she grabbed the closest one before charging forward. The demon held out both hands in an attempt to deter the attack, but Buffy found a way in, ramming the metal rod all the way through its chest.

She turned back to Willow, whose arm had disappeared up to her wrist into her handbag as she shuffled her way back from the remaining demon.

“Vesta, Goddess of the hearth, incendia,” Willow shouted as she threw a large handful of glimmering particles upward. Each one erupted into a tiny flicker of fire, banding together with the others to create a spiralling ball of red and orange. The vibrant particles twisted and danced in-between one another as they circled the demon's head, and even once the flames had faded away the demon kept shrieking as if the heat remained. The distraction gave Buffy ample opportunity to move up behind it, and she silenced it with a single twist of its neck before pushing the limp body away to the side.

“Nice,” she commented as she held out a hand to help Willow to her feet. “You OK?”

“I-I think so.” Willow's lips flickered upward. “Haven't tried that one before.” She was breathing hard, and a small amount of sweat had crept from the pores on her forehead. “What about you? Feeling better now?”

“Come on, we're done here,” Buffy said, already beginning to move away.

“Buffy, please, stop for a minute,” Willow said before pausing to pant a little more, and Buffy did as she was asked, waiting for Willow to catch her breath. “Just tell me what's going on? Has Faith done something bad? Because I thought she was supposed to be on our side now.”

“What?” Buffy registered the uneasy look on Willow's face. “No,” she assured her. “No, it's nothing like that.”

“Then what?” Willow asked. Buffy opened her mouth, but found herself quickly cut off. “And don't say nothing, because you have something face. In fact, you've had a whole range of something faces today, and honestly, you're starting to scare me.”

Buffy stayed silent as she weighed up her options, knowing she'd have to talk to somebody about it eventually. At that moment, the thought of doing so with Willow seemed slightly less terrifying than talking with Faith, and so with a resigned sigh she started trying to think of a way to explain. “You know when you spend a lot of time around someone and it kind of gets... weird.”

Willow furrowed her brow. “Weird how?”

That wasn't even the right word, Buffy decided, thought she couldn't come up with a better one. “What do you think of her? Honestly,” she said, sidestepping Willow's question and completely changing direction.

“Of Faith?”

Buffy nodded her response.

“Well... I know it might sound like I'm giving you a hard time for spending so much time with her, but I don't mean to. I think it's good that you two are getting along so well. I didn't think she would come back, from everything that happened, but I have to hand it to her – she's surprised me.”

A quiet laugh escape Buffy's throat, leaving behind a shadow of a smile on her face. “You're not the only one.” Her fingers intertwined in front of her, occupying themselves as she began pacing slowly back and forth in front of Willow. “And we are. Getting along well I mean. Like, really well.”

“And that's a bad thing?” Buffy didn't respond, and she took a sharp turn, her slow steps taking her in a new direction. Willow spun to keep her in sight. “Buffy, I know we haven't spent a whole lot of time together lately. You've been busy doing the whole Slayer thing with Faith, and – and I've got Oz, but that doesn't mean you're not still my best friend. You know you can tell me anything.”

Buffy came to a stop and took a deep breath. Her gaze looked briefly to the ceiling before falling at Willow's feet. “She kissed me,” she said in a hushed voice, a large part of her hoping that Willow wouldn't hear.

“She...” Willow started before there was a long pause. “Oh.”

Buffy let out another nervous laugh. She squeezed her hands together, trying to get them to keep still. “Yeah, that was pretty much my reaction too.”

“And there haven't been any... signs?”

“No,” Buffy said immediately, continuing only when Willow remained quiet. “Not really. I know she can be... kind of flirty sometimes, but I didn't think she actually meant anything by it. I thought she was just being, I don't know, friendly.”

“Friendly?” Willow echoed, her raised eyebrows backing up the doubt in her voice

“Well you don't just assume these things,” Buffy defended, and she was moving again, her hands more animated than ever as they grasped loosely at the air and her feet completely incapable of staying grounded for long. “It could have been like the whole five by five thing. You don't really know what she means, but you just kind of accept it. And while we're on the subject, you don't just – just kiss someone. You – you take small steps. You ask first. Preferably by mail.”

“What did you say to her? When she... you know.”

“Say?”

Willow winced, and Buffy looked away guiltily. “You haven't spoken to her about it?”

“Not exactly.”

“Don't you think maybe you should?”

“No.” Buffy caught sight of Willow's pointed look, and she relented just a little. “Maybe,” she muttered.

“Buffy, you know the longer you leave it the worse it's going to get. Take it from someone who knows – festering helps nobody. A-and what about Faith? That must have been a big move for her. If she... likes you, and she went out on a limb like that.... and then you bailed. If that'd been me, I'd be in my room right now agonizing over it.”

Buffy froze on the spot, swallowing hard. “Oh God.” She felt the panic begin to rise. She'd been so taken aback, so distracted by her own questions, her own emotions, that she hadn't stopped for a moment to think about how Faith might be feeling. At least ten times worse, Buffy realized, and Faith didn't even have anyone to talk to about it. “I'm such a cretin. I'm like the – the great grandmother cretin of all cretins.”

“I wouldn't go that far,” Willow said, offering her a small smile. “But I do think the sooner you let her down, the better it'll be for the both of you.”

Buffy's nerves came back with a vengeance, and she could barely lift her eyes to meet Willow's. After finally managing that, all she could do was stare, neither willing nor able to put her thoughts into words, and an unknown number of long, painfully drawn out seconds did nothing to help her overpowering anxiety.

“Unless you're not planning on letting her down,” Willow said slowly, and it sounded more like a question than a statement. Buffy couldn't be sure if Willow's eyes had widened ever so slightly. “You like her? Like, like her-like her?”

Buffy's reply came only after a long intermission. “I don't know. She's... well, Faith. I mean she's completely impulsive. She can be totally reckless. And she's definitely not what I was looking for, if I was even looking for anything, which, by the way, I wasn't...”

“I'm sensing a but,” Willow prompted after Buffy's voice trailed away.

“It's just that... she can be really sweet sometimes. She can always make me smile, even when I'm sure I should be insulted. And it's hard to explain, but we have this... connection. I realize this sounds ridiculous, but when I'm around her it's like – it's like everything is supercharged. When we're fighting together, her energy, her adrenaline, it washes right over me. I can feel every part of it surging through my body. And when it's just the two of us I feel.... safe. Content. Like everything's going to turn out OK, you know?”

Buffy had to force herself to stop talking before she started to tear up, and only then did she notice the large smile that had made its way onto Willow's face. “I guess she's pretty easy on the eyes too,” Willow said, and Buffy raised an eyebrow, her anxiety taking a few long strides back. “I didn't mean from my perspective,” Willow added quickly, and she emphatically shook her head.

“She does have the whole billowy bad girl vibe down,” Buffy admitted, the thought dulling her small smile as it brought up something else that had been bothering her. “But that's the other thing. You've heard her; she's all horny-this and sex-that. What if she's just after some quick fling and – and I'd just be setting myself up to get hurt?” Her voice quietened, coming close to a whimper. “I can't go through that again, Will... I just can't.”

Willow's large, circular eyes regarded her sympathetically. “Do you think that's all it is?”

Buffy sighed her frustration. “I don't know. I mean, I think there's something there. But how am I supposed to know if she really cares about me that way?”

“Well you could always ask her.”

She eyed Willow carefully. “You're really strung up on this whole talking thing, aren't you?”

“It's my new mantra. Ever since Xander and I... no more bottling things up. Because bottles? Sooner or later they have a habit of popping open, and then there's nothing but badness spewing out.”

Buffy looked down at the demon corpses on the floor, each of them seemingly happy to stay in place. While she was beginning to regain some form of control over herself, she still felt far too preoccupied for clean-up duty and figured she could return to dispose of them later. She turned for the exit, moving slowly until Willow fell into place beside her. “Or maybe all we need are better corks. Like the ones on wine bottles with the twisty metal guard,” she said brightly, her fingers screwing in place an invisible cap in demonstration.

“Buffy!”

“I know, I know,” Buffy quickly relented. “I'll talk to her.”

“Good.”

Buffy shook her head at Willow's victory smile. “Why can't life be like fighting demons?” she asked dimly.

“Full of punching, stabbing, beheading...”

“Yeah,” Buffy said, smiling to herself. “The easy stuff.”

They exited the building in silence, slowly making their way back toward town. Neither of them spoke up until they reached the crossroads a short while later, and Buffy hadn't even realized where they were until Willow's words snapped her back into focus.

“Well I guess this is where we part ways,” Willow said, pointing toward one entrance of the college campus.

Buffy nodded, glancing in the vague direction of her house before turning to face Willow. “Thanks, Will,” she said earnestly. She leaned in to pull Willow into a hug, holding her for a few moments. “I'm glad you were here today.”

Willow beamed a reassuring smile. “Call me later and let me know how it goes?”

“Sure.”

Willow gave a small wave before moving away down the road. Buffy stood and watched her for as long as she remained in sight, making sure that nothing jumped out at her from the trees lined up along one edge of the road. Once left completely alone, Buffy's jitters steadily began to rise. She took a slow, deep breath before continuing on her way home; it wasn't as soothing as she would have liked. “Be brave,” she commanded herself out loud. “It's only Faith. It's not the end of the world.”