Buffy had been trying to find something of interest over each of Faith's slumped shoulders, but her eyes kept finding their way back to the mass in between them. Faith sat barely out of arm's reach and seemed fully absorbed in the grass beneath them; like clockwork she'd rhythmically pluck up a single blade, watch intently as her finger and thumb worked to scrunch it into a small ball, and then let it fall right back down to join the quickly-growing mass grave of greenery.

Neither of their activities could be honestly described as productive, but Buffy had needed the time out to calm herself down, and she suspected it was doing Faith some good as well. They couldn't stay sat around forever though, and she was prepping her bravery ready to speak up when Faith beat her to the punch. “You think it's weird they have grass and trees and stuff here?” she asked, staring at the latest little, green victim in her hand.

Buffy frowned. She was a little thrown by the question; it had been about the furthest thing from her thoughts she could imagine. “I don't know... maybe.”

“Guess I figured it'd be all pits of hell-fire and dancing, red demons or something.”

“Well don't give up hope yet. If there are places like that out there I'm sure we'll be unlucky enough to find them,” Buffy joked, unsure of what she was really supposed to say.

“Yeah.” Faith had one knee tucked in close to her chest, and she let out a low sigh as her head dipped and her arms moved to wrap around it. There was a distinct weariness to Faith's voice and Buffy could relate.

The half-hearted agreement put an end to the short conversation and, once again left without a distraction, Buffy tried to assess the compact figure opposite her. Faith's downcast eyes were still bloodshot which, combined with the smudged remains of her make-up, suggested that even the smallest of prods could have her falling apart all over again. Buffy doubted she was looking all that glamorous herself, but the sight of a dispirited Faith had always been enough to dim her own mood. When things were going well it felt so natural for her to become caught up within Faith's energetic persona, but when the lights dimmed, the hopelessness that resonated from her gloomy figure was equally ensnaring. It didn't help that she put a lot of the blame on herself for having let her worries push her to some rushed conclusions about Faith's intentions

She found herself reaching out to brush back the cluster of hair that had fallen loose over Faith's face but quickly stopped herself, instead forcing both hands into her lap. She interlinked her fingers to keep them held in place, and when she thought about what she was doing she sighed so softly that it probably went unheard. “We can't keep doing this, you know.”

Faith sluggishly lifted her head, meeting Buffy's eyes for the first time. “Doing what?”

“It just... it feels like every time something like this comes up we end up on opposite sides.” Faith just looked at her in silence. Already wary of sparking another fight, Buffy made sure to keep her voice gentle. “I know you can handle yourself, I do. And I trust you, Faith. I'd trust you with my life in an instant, no questions asked. You know that, right?”

Faith's brow furrowed, and she seemed to mull it over before replying. “Yeah, I guess.”

A little more enthusiasm would have done wonders for Buffy's wavering confidence, but it wasn't a flat-out 'no' so she carried on. “Good. And I'm sorry I made that decision back there without you. What I'm not sorry for – what I will never be sorry for – is looking out for you. But you need to understand – all that means is... is that I can't imagine my life without you in it. And I don't want to. Besides, you'd have done the same for me if the roles were reversed, wouldn't you?” She wasn't asking for her own clarity, only to try and help Faith understand where she was coming from.

Faith's eyes flickered to the ground and back before she begrudgingly nodded her head.

“Then can we please just agree to look out for each other? We're in this together – all of it – whatever comes – and I really don't want to fight with you, Faith. Not about Slaying. Not about anything.”

Once Buffy received another nod, she smiled in relief and stuck out her hand. “Slayer's honour?”

Faith stared down at her hand for a few seconds before looking back up. “You know that's not really a thing, right?” she asked, throwing Buffy a sceptical look.

“Hey, I don't know about you, but I don't know any other Slayers. So if we say its a thing, its officially a thing. I declare the motion passed by acclamation.”

“By acclam-what now?” Faith asked, shaking her head in confusion.

“I don't know. I heard it on some law show once. They were all giddy and stuff though so I think it means they won.” Buffy forced her brow to furrow. “Or maybe they were just drunk,” she added in mock thought.

That got a small, hollow chuckle from Faith who, after another short delay, reached out and shook her hand.

“Punishable by a decade of research duty, just so you know,” Buffy added.

“I'm not so sure I should be agreeing to that.”

“You're shaking on it right now.”

Faith laughed again, and if Buffy hadn't have been paying an awful lot of attention then it might not have sounded at lest partially forced. “That's pretty underhanded, B.”

“Many years of practice.”

As Faith's laugh faded away so did the remnants of what could generously be described as a smile, and then her forehead was wrinkled in concentration.

Buffy started to withdraw her hand, but Faith reacted fast to gently catch hold of the ends of her fingers. She watched Faith anxiously for a few moments, fighting the urge to look down at the thumb that began to lightly stroke across the back of her hand. Even if the apprehension rife on Faith's face hadn't already given it away, Buffy would still have had a fighting chance at predicting the topic on the tip of Faith's tongue.

It was one she'd been secretly hoping to tiptoe around, but that didn't mean Faith's earlier outburst wasn't still rattling around inside her head; on the contrary, it was, and it was been inconsiderately persistent about it. She couldn't shake it free, but she had no clue what to think or do about it yet either. It's not that she didn't care about Faith, but she wasn't sure if she was in love with her. How could she be? They'd shared two kisses – and in pretty exceptional circumstances at that – been on a grand total of zero dates, and only a few painfully long days ago she hadn't given consideration to them being anything more than friends. It did seem like they'd spent more time together than apart in recent months, and whatever it was between them was suddenly a lot harder for her to overlook, but that didn't add up to the same thing, Buffy reasoned. Throw in the fact that the inter-dimensional demon population wasn't exactly affording her an ample helping of focus time and the end result was that everything was happening too fast.

“I meant what I said before,” Faith said quietly, the uneasiness in her voice not difficult to pick out. “I love you, Buffy.”

Buffy closed her eyes and desperately wished she were some place else; even discussing the finer points of demon mating rituals with Giles would have been a welcome alternative. She knew that doing anything other than returning the sentiment was going to sting Faith, but she couldn't to lie to her either. Not about that.

The darkness couldn't keep her hidden forever, and she wasn't surprised to find them both sat in exactly the same place when she dared leave its safety. In the end a faint, “I know,” was all she could come up with. Oh well done, Buffy, she sarcastically chastised herself; that didn't sound completely uncaring at all. She hoped the small smile she offered could somehow make up for it.

Faith continued watching her as if waiting for something more, and Buffy guiltily averted her eyes to the ground and bit anxiously at her lip. When she still remained silent, Faith let go and got to her feet. “We should probably get gone. Put some distance between us and them before they send out the hunting parties.”

An easy out had just been presented to Buffy on a silver platter – complete with gold trim and matching cutlery – and for several long seconds she considered grabbing it with both hands and hugging it tight. Faith's flat, all-business tone made her feel even worse about herself though, and she knew she'd regret it later if she left things like that. As she followed to her feet she forced herself to speak out over her trepidation. “Look, Faith, it's just... this is all really new to me.” Her lost hands motioned helplessly in front of her waist. “I'm still kinda trying to wrap my head around it.”

“Yeah, sure. Don't sweat it,” Faith replied along with a dismissive wave of a hand before she stuffed them both in the back pockets of her jeans.

She started to turn away, but Buffy reached out to stop her. “Maybe when we get out of here we could... umm, do something? I mean together. Just the two of us?“ Her throat was already closing, shrivelling up due to every drop of moisture having somehow been sucked away without her knowing it, but that didn't keep the sincere and optimistic smile from her face.

Faith watched her cautiously as if trying to pry through her thoughts for some hidden meaning. “You mean like a date?”

The tips of Buffy's fingers were tingling as she gave a single nod. “Like a date.”

More time passed – only a handful of seconds, but still far, far too many of them – and Buffy was starting to wonder if her efforts were too little, too-late by the time Faith finally nodded back. “That'd be nice.”

The wave of relief that rushed over Buffy was completely unexpected, but at the same time it was enough to release her held breath. She nodded one more time, a final confirmation to herself.

----------

Giles found himself being driven back by a stout demon dressed in a grey suit – tie, boots and all. He continuously beat at its head with alternating fists, hoping to deter it to no avail. Despite trying to keep his feet planted firmly in place, he was quickly giving up ground, and the next thing he knew the edge of a shelf was pressing painfully into his back.

Looking for anything in reach, Xander laid his eyes on a pale-blue, glass sphere. He grabbed it from its stand without thought and lifted it up high over his head as he stepped up behind the demon.

“Ooh, no, wait!” Willow called out, and Xander looked over his shoulder questioningly, his hand still raised. “That's a fourteenth century Malian conjuring orb. Err...” She glanced around before picking up a sturdy-looking statue of a gleeful, barely-clothed fairy. “Here, use this instead. It's only priced at twenty bucks, and that's after Giles's profit margin.” She looked disapprovingly at Giles, who was far too occupied to notice. “Which, by the way, extortionate much? I've seen these online for like $4.95.”

The words Giles was having trouble getting out – due in no small part to the sizeable pair of demonic hands encircling his throat – were unintelligible, but he still managed to make it obvious he disagreed.

Xander took a moment to think about it, shrugged, and then swapped the orb for the statue. While Willow cradled the orb carefully in both hands, Xander continued where he left off. He raised the statue high and promptly brought it down hard across the back of the demon's head.

The demon stayed standing exactly where it was, which was more than could be said for the statue. It snapped in two with ease, breaking cleanly at the unhealthily thin waist, the upper half falling uselessly to the ground. Xander turned back to Willow and waved the fairy legs questioningly.

“Aha, see! I told you it wasn't worth twenty,” Willow said defensively as she pointed an accusatory finger Giles's way.

Giles got a reprieve when the demon turned its attention toward Xander and Willow. Shoulder first, it barged straight into the back of Xander, sending his eyebrows high and his legs stumbling forward. Off balance and flailing wildly, he had no hope of stopping himself, and he collided with Willow, taking them both to the floor. The orb fell from her hand, instantly smashing into thousands of tiny pieces when it hit the floor, and the resulting sound was loud enough to mask the end of her high-pitched squeal.

The demon hovered over her, its menacing grin showing off two rows of short, sharp, perfectly white teeth, but as it reached down Giles shot forward, wrapping his arms around the demon from behind and tackling it to the floor. Unlike Xander, Willow barely rolled to the side in time to avoid ending up at the bottom of the pile.

-----------

“Come on, let's see if we can't find another of those beasts that attacked you.” The instant and incredulous look Faith received for her suggestion brought a smirk to her face and only spurred her on more. “What, you already got plans? Because last I checked you only had the one date lined up.”

Her insides were whirring around in excitement, and while she didn't want Buffy to know how pathetically happy the offer of a single, simple date had made her, she couldn't concentrate enough to keep her high spirits from shining through in her voice. She didn't even have a guarantee that Buffy would go through with it, and that slight nagging likely wouldn't fade until they were skipping through fields, hand in hand. Not that she was a big fan of skipping, or had ever even tried, but if it came to it then, for Buffy, she'd swallow her pride – so long as it was in private; after all, she did have some street cred to retain, even if it was only with the undead.

Buffy's voice broke through her skittish, runaway thoughts, and she tried to shake herself back to reality. “Err, sorry,” she muttered sheepishly when she noticed Buffy watching her with an amused expression. “Didn't catch that.”

Buffy gave an over the top roll of her eyes before repeating herself. “Yeah, I noticed. I said that I wouldn't mind evening the score, but I'm really not sure this is the time for revenge. In case you've forgotten, we still have slightly bigger problems.”

Right, Faith thought to herself, remembering that she did actually have a plan before she'd managed to get caught up in her own reflections. “Ain't looking for revenge.”

“Then what are we looking for, dare I ask?”

Buffy had told Faith how the demons had gotten her leg going from looking like it might drop right off to good-as-new in a matter of minutes, and that had gotten Faith thinking. The conclusion she'd come to might not be guaranteed, but she figured it was worth a shot. “You think these demons just happened to have some cure sitting around so they could mop up any unlucky humans passing by?”

She had to hold back a grin when Buffy furrowed her brow just a little and pursed her lips; the girl looked way too cute when she was deep in thought.

“I hadn't really thought about it... but I guess so,” Buffy replied cautiously, clearly still thinking it over.

“And remember the demon chick that sent us here? It looked like she was covered in the same black veins that were on your leg.”

“OK, but she didn't seem all that bothered by it.”

“No, but she wasn't looking too healthy either, and now I'm wondering if a stronger dose might finish her off.”

“And if they had a cure, why didn't she use it? And if she--”

“Hey! Chill, Miss Marple,” Faith interrupted. “I'm just saying it's maybe worth a shot. What's the worst that can happen?”

“Hmm. How about we get mauled to death and our torn up bodies rot away without ever being found?” Buffy deadpanned.

It was Faith's turn to roll her eyes. “Jeez, has no-one ever told you you're a real killjoy when you're sent to a hell dimension?”

Buffy smiled sweetly. “No-one would dare.” Faith barely had time to open her mouth before Buffy added, “And that wasn't an invitation.”

Faith snorted in amusement, knowing full well that Buffy's prediction was spot on. “So what do you say? You want to go hunt us down some were-freaks or what?”

“Well technically I didn't see a full moon last night, so they're probably not--”

“B?” Faith cut in, a hint of exasperation making itself known.

“Yeah?”

“Shut up.”

Buffy harrumphed and gave Faith a small, half-hearted shove.

Faith humoured her, faking a stumble to her side, and then she took off running without warning, a smile etched on her face that she thought might never fade away. It didn't take long before Buffy started after her, and once she'd caught up, Faith veered off the forest pathway, bounding straight into the thick brush.

----------

Ethan peeked open one eye and quickly swept the room to make sure nobody was watching him. They weren't. Giles was red-faced and busy wrestling a demon on the ground as Willow pulled at its ears, and Xander and Oz were repeatedly sandwiching another demon's head between a pair of books.

He noted the absence of Mr. Grolloch, the demon he desperately didn't want to pay back, which was a pity; he did genuinely appreciate it when other people took care of his problems.

Flinging himself through the air had led to a less than pleasant landing, and it had taken all of his resolve not to instantly begin rubbing at the thumping in his elbow. Sometimes a little pain went a long way though, and it had seemed like his best chance of looking like a victim of poor timing. If things were going to go his way then that's exactly what he needed.

As he watched the fight, Ethan idly wondered how this motley group had managed to thwart all of his previous plans. He was starting to get bored from simply seeing the sorry display, but with the numbers game against them it didn't take too much longer until the two henchman had been dispersed with. The moment the second one hit the floor, presumably dead, Ethan lay his head back on the floor and closed his eyes.

Not long after, he felt a firm boot land in his side. He remained still, waiting for the follow-up poke – which he knew would come – before he forced out a low groan and began his carefully drawn out movements. He didn't get time to make many as within seconds he was hauled to his feet by two fists firmly wrapped around the collar of his shirt.

Giles' eyes, naked from the glasses that usually sat on his face, were glowering, but Ethan had seen the man look more angry than that in the past; and more often than not that anger had been aimed squarely his way. “Long time, no see, Ripper,” Ethan began conversationally. “How've you been, old fella?”

Ethan's eyes widened as his feet left the ground, but he didn't remain in the air for long. Back first, he landed on a nearby table with a grunt, and Giles' hands stayed in place, pinning Ethan's neck down. “Ethan Rayne,” Giles said with a slight drawl. “I should have known. There's been far too much going on recently for it to all be a coincidence, and I get the feeling you know exactly what I'm talking about.”

“Not the foggiest,” Ethan replied with a forced straight face. “And I'm starting to think maybe you don't want my help after all.”

The flicker of uncertainty in Giles' eyes fed Ethan a little more confidence. Some people really never learn, he thought.

“Help with what?” Giles asked. The rest of the group were quietly gathered behind him.

Ethan motioned at his neck. “Perhaps first you could loosen up a little, Rupert. You're not setting a very good example for the children.”

Giles gave Ethan a warning glare but then removed his hands and took a single step back. Ethan stood up and made a show of rubbing at his neck. “Now how about a drink? For old time's sake.”

“Why are you here, Ethan?” Giles asked flatly.

“Ahh, so straight to business then? Fair enough.” He took a couple of steps away, preferring to have time to react in case he said something Giles didn't appreciate. “I've heard rumours starting to spread in the dark world. Rumours that the Slayer might be what you'd call M.I.A. And being the good and loyal friend you know I am, I thought it only fair to come and warn you – in case you didn't already know. Of course, twenty minutes in good old Sunnydale and I'm already being accosted by your friends here.” He gave a sideways nod at the nearest of the two corpses. “You really ought to be more careful who you associate with.”

“Oh believe me, I learnt that lesson that a long time ago.” Giles gave him a pointed look. “But let's pretend for a moment that what you say is true. Given that I saw Buffy only yesterday, it sure does seem awfully quick for such news to spread. So much so that one could perhaps be forgiven for thinking that knowing about it might require inside information.”

The sceptical look directed Ethan's way wasn't enough to unnerve him; he knew Giles well enough to know he already had him reeled halfway in. “Think about it, Rupert: if I were involved then would I really show up here to help you get her back?” He turned and started heading for the door. “Of course, if you'd rather find her yourself then that's your call. I'm sure with your resources you'll get to her before they do.”

“They?”

The grin that instantly appeared on Ethan's face was huge, but he forced it away before turning back to the group. “Why, the demons that inhabit the world she's been sent to, of course.”

“Wait, what?” Willow said, her eyes widening. “Are you saying that Buffy's been sent... away?”

“That's what I heard.”

“And what have you heard about Faith?” Giles asked, his interest well and truly piqued.

Ethan forced a questioning frown to his face. “I never took you for a religious man, Rupert.”

“I think you know what I mean.”

“Sorry, mate, I really don't.”

Giles took two threatening steps forward, leaned in close, and lowered his voice. “Let me be perfectly clear here, Ethan. If this is some game of yours then I will personally see to it that you don't appreciate the results.”

Ethan leaned back and held up both hands, open palms outward. “No games. Cross my heart. Honestly, Rupert. I know you'd be out of sorts without your little, blonde super-soldier, and I couldn't bare to see you sulk for the next decade. You're even less fun than usual when you're like that.”

The lengthy, probing stare from Giles would have dug up any hidden plans of deceit from most people, but a lifetime's worth of practice had left Ethan well-equipped to handle it; he met the look with confident, unblinking eyes and a small, honest smile that depicted only the purest definition of innocence.

It did the job perfectly, and Ethan was afforded a quick – and ultimately unnecessary – explanation of who Faith was and why the Scooby gang had reason to believe she too might be stuck in another dimension. Ethan waited patiently throughout, nodding in feigned interest and even throwing in the odd dry comment for good measure.

“I have a spell that can bring them both back,” he said when Giles had finished. “We'll need some ingredients, but as luck would have it, you appear to be the proprietor of a magic shop. How's that for convenient?” He looked around the room with interest before returning his focus to Giles. “Oh, and I'll need something of Buffy's. A personal artefact. Just to ensure the portal opens nearby.”

“Oh, err, I have these,” Willow piped up. She began fiddling at her ears before producing a pair of small, dangling teardrop earrings. “Buffy let me borrow them for graduation.” Despite nobody saying anything of it, she suddenly looked horrified and hurriedly added, “I meant to return them. I just sort of... forgot.”

“They'll do just fine.”

She held them out for the taking, but Giles blocked Ethan's way as he tried to grabbed them. “I do have one more question before we proceed. I just can't seem to shake the fact that your showing up with all the answers seems terribly convenient. Who – or indeed what – is your source, if you don't mind me asking?”

“Sorry, Ripper, but we all have secrets we'd like to hold onto. I'm sure a man such as yourself can appreciate that.” The insinuation which had crept into Ethan's tone, along with the slim, lopsided smirk on his face, left Giles with a furrowed brow and Ethan with the opportunity to take the earrings. He turned his attention to the rest of the group and spoke with a an overabundance of smug enthusiasm. “Right then. First up: where do we keep the Mugwort?”