Stood on the more preferable side of the walls that surrounded Fort Shek – as she had un-originally christened it – Buffy was bags-packed ready to leave without so much as a wave goodbye. Of course, for reasons she'd probably never know, a bad guy willing to keep their mouth shut was a rare find.

“A parting warning,” Shek said, stopping Buffy in her tracks. She let out a knocking sigh and rolled her eyes at the predictability of it all. “Our agreement was not an offer of immunity. Tomorrow, your welcome is over. Do not expect leniency if we meet again.”

She casually turned back, an amused smirk on her face. “Now don't take this the wrong way or anything, but I really plan to be home in time for dinner.”

That was a bad thought, she realized, now fully aware of the quiet rumbling in her stomach. Sadly her hosts had forgotten to bring out the banquet in honour of her victory, and it wouldn't be too long before she was willing to eat just about anything. And that might even stretch so far as the highly questionable substance found at the recently opened fast food joint back home – the Doublemeat Palace. Not that Buffy had sunk low enough to eat there herself, but Faith had taken a liking to it, and it did stay open at Slayer-friendly times,so she'd seen first-hand just how unappetizing a Doublemeat Medley could look. Still, right then, she might not have been so quick to pass one up.

Shek seemed far more amused by her comment than she'd expected. “If a portal could be opened from this place, do you not think we would have entered your dimension centuries ago?” it asked. “It cannot be done. It took the downfall of only three civilizations before The Powers That Be saw to that. But their attempts to contain us were short-sighted. Fourteen more still fell. Countless more will still fall. It seems there is always an invitation waiting to be extended, no matter the world.”

Buffy had been concerned by Giles's use of the word 'numerous' when he'd first told her about the cross-reality invasions – in fact, when it came to anything otherworldly, plurals were generally a big no-no in her book – but putting a figure to it made it seem all that much more bleak. “Why bother? I haven't seen you parading around any slaves, or – or any piles of stolen futuristic technology littering the ground. What could you possibly have to gain from any of this?”

“You think this is about mere theft? Not even close. I witnessed your battle. You fought exceptionally well, even if the rules were... tested.” He eyed Faith – who remained surprisingly straight-faced – before continuing. “You remind me of the warrior I once was, and for that reason I know you already understand that the need to fight flows through us all.”

Part of Buffy was screaming at herself to get out of dodge before she triggered a change of heart that landed both her and Faith in serious trouble, but she couldn't let that go unchallenged. “We are nothing alike,” she stressed. “I don't need to fight. I fight because I have to. I take no pleasure from killing; I do it to keep people safe. Nothing more.”

“As do I. The simple truth is I was born into a world wrapped in conflict. We fought for land. For food. Often simply because we thought we could win. But I also fought for something else: to change all of that. Nobody wished to listen to diplomacy, I assure you, but when I found a way between dimensions everything was different. A way to a common goal, to an ever-changing common enemy, was something that finally brought us together. Understand that, if left alone, we would undoubtedly turn on each other once more, but a world at war truly is a world united.”

The thought horrified her, and she found herself taking a threatening step forward. “And what about everyone that has died so you can keep yourselves in line? How is that any better than fighting with each other? At least you have a choice. No one you slaughtered got one. My people don't get one.”

Shek held his ground. The array of demons not far behind him also stayed in place, though several hands inched closer to their weapons. “They cannot be my concern.”

“Well they are mine.”

“If so, surely you would do whatever you must to keep them safe?”

“No. Not that. I'd never stoop so low.” That much she was sure of, and there was only certainty in her voice, but the conversation was still leaving her feeling uncomfortable. She put it down to being stuck talking to a sociopath.

“Perhaps you have yet to find a reason to, but you have it in you. Everyone willing to fight for what they believe in has it in them. They must, or ultimately they will fail.”

“Or here's a thought: did it never occur to you that maybe you're just completely out of your mind?”

Shek only smiled through thin, sapless lips. “I think it is time for you to go. The day is old, and while you have received a small taste of what night brings here, you might find there are worse things waiting out there.”

Buffy looked up at the sky, trying to get a reading on what sort of time they had. Their first night had seemed shorter than those back home, but she didn't know if the day would be too. She hoped for at least a couple of hours. If they really couldn't open the way home themselves then maybe they could at least find somewhere to lay low. “Come on, Faith.” She stared at Shek, letting her narrowed eyes show her disgust. “I've heard about all I can stand to.”

With that parting shot, she turned her back to Shek and the small portion of his army, and Faith silently trailed behind as they set off into their larger prison.

----------

It would be at least another hour before the residents of Sunnydale began to gravitate toward town, yet the lights inside The Magic Box had already been on for some time. Xander replaced the phone on its stand with no small amount of force. “Still nothing,” he informed a glum-looking Willow as he returned to sink down beside her at the table. “They have to be somewhere. People don't just disappear. I mean they do, especially around here, but both Slayers in the same night? Colour me paranoid, but I know who I'd point all my fingers at.”

Willow – who had risen at six that morning to check on Buffy and then subsequently raised the alarm when she couldn't get hold of either her or Faith – nodded her head as she continued to leaf through the pages of a musty but surprisingly well-preserved book. At first she'd assumed it was just new, but she was beginning to understand the real reason it was in such good shape. Vague and patchy, it seemed to offer little in the way of what their demonic invaders were capable of. Instead hyperbole, and reports that read like urban legends, were the order of the day. “It does seem likely, but Giles doesn't want to rule out it having something to do with those festive fear demons yet either. There could be more of them, and what if Buffy and Faith both had a fear of being invisible?” She frowned, watching as Xander absently threw a fist into the palm of his other hand time and time again. “OK, probably not that likely. But still, we really shouldn't jump to any conclusions. We don't want to go spinning off in the wrong direction. Not when... not if they need us.”

Xander looked over at her. “What if she's really gone? What if we can't get her back?”

“Them back,” Willow corrected. “What if we can't get them back.”

“Right, them. I know... I just mean...” His voice trailed off, and he cast his eyes down to the table.

Willow nodded. “I know. And don't get me wrong, I don't think I'll be inviting Faith over for a sleepover any time soon, but she's been there for Buffy. The two of them are... close.”

“I noticed. They have seemed pretty cosy lately. What's up with that?”

Willow returned her eyes to the book, staying quiet for a few seconds under Xander's questioning look. “I don't know. It makes sense though. After all, they do have to work together. Might as well try and get along, right?”

“I guess. It's just surprising is all. I mean Faith did try to kill her... and her undead lover... and me.”

“She also saved Buffy's life, remember? Besides, that was all a long time ago, and let's face it, who around here hasn't gone to the dark side?” She gave Xander a knowing smirk.

“Hey! That wasn't dark side. I like to think of it more as... Sunnydale's unique take on Ace Ventura.”

Willow let out a small laugh. “How would you even know? You don't remember any of it.”

“Right, good point. I really, really don't.” Xander shuffled in his chair and cleared his throat. “So, anything useful in that book?”

As Willow shook her head, the increasingly familiar jingling of the shop bell grabbed their attention. The drab expressions of Giles and Oz stepped inside to greet them, the two armed with a battleaxe and crossbow respectively.

Xander was up in an instant. “Find anything?” he asked eagerly. Silently, Giles pulled out a stake from his jacket pocket and held it up. What little colour there was left in Xander's face drained away. “Oh God, that can't be good.”

“No, definitely not,” Giles agreed. He shrugged off his coat, folded it roughly in half over his arm, and tossed it on top of the shop counter as he crossed the room to the others. “There was no blood, but between the stake and an upturned tombstone I'd say at least one of them was fighting there at some point last night.”

Willow took the stake, turning it around in her hand. “But that means they're not... well, you know. No blood means they're probably OK, right? Maybe they just ran? And now they're somewhere safe, regrouping?” She looked even more miserable than before, her questions tinged with a hopefulness she clearly didn't feel.

Oz placed a hand on her shoulder and gave it a small squeeze. “Maybe. No reason to panic.”

“No. No reason to panic,” Willow agreed with little belief. “Right?” She looked at Giles for confirmation.

He wasn't listening. “What have we missed?” he asked quietly. His hand was up at his mouth, his lips pressing against the side of one of his curled in fingers. All eyes were on him as he slowly paced back and forth. “There's something about all--”

This time a loud bang preceded the sound of the shop bell, and when they all looked over they saw a large shape fly through the air, hit the ground with a thud, and roll down the steps before coming to a stop only a few feet away.

Giles looked over the motionless man before growling, “Ethan.” Before he'd taken a single step toward the body, a pair of impeccably dressed demons flanked Ethan. They took one look at Giles and charged forward.

----------

“How twisted is that?” Buffy asked, once her and Faith were far enough away from the demons that she wasn't readying herself to dive out the way of an incoming spear. The question had been very much rhetorical, but when she didn't get an answer she still looked to her side expectantly, finding that Faith still looked sombre about something. “Hey, are you OK? They didn't hurt you, did they?” Concerned, she stopped and reached out to touch Faith's arm, but Faith quickly carried on forward, taking several steps before turning back to her. “Faith?” Buffy asked, more nervously. “Say something.”

Faith gave a quick nod of her head, and her lungs filled out with air. “OK. How about we start with you telling me what the hell you think you were doing back there?” she growled.

The bolt of anger thrown her way caught Buffy completely off guard. Her mouth dropped open, and she'd retreated a step back before she knew it. “What? I don't...” Her voice trailed off as she racked her brain for answers. She came up with nothing; she didn't have a clue what Faith could be so upset about.

“That creepy-ass demon told me about the deal you made. You remember, the one where you decided I couldn't handle myself so you threw yourself into the fray with one hand tied behind your back?”

See, demons really did need to learn to keep their mouths shut, Buffy decided. “That's not what happened. It wasn't like that at all.”

“Then how about you explain it to me. What was it like, exactly?”

“Look, Faith, I really don't know what you're getting so hung up on. I was only trying to get us both out of there in one piece.” She was trying to stay pragmatic, but she couldn't keep her voice from raising defensively. This whole place had gradually left her on edge; the last thing she needed was Faith giving her grief over nothing.

“By passing up an actual chance of winning?”

“I had a plan,” Buffy shot back. And she did, kind of: she'd fight, she'd hopefully win, and then they'd leave. Sure, it wasn't elaborate on the level that might impress, say, Steve McQueen, but it was still a plan.

“Yeah? If getting cut up into tiny pieces was the start of it, you've gotta let me in on the end.”

It was difficult to decide whether there was more accusation or sarcasm in Faith's tone; Buffy was prepared to equal it on both accounts though. “Oh, sure, but charging head-first into a pack of demons was really well thought out. What, exactly, was the plan there, huh Faith? Were you hoping a feral scream and some angry fist shaking would have them running for the hills?”

“Gee, well I'm real sorry I didn't get out of dodge and leave you for dead.”

“And how is that any different from what I was trying to do?” Buffy asked, dumbfounded that Faith couldn't see it.

“Because I couldn't live with myself if I let you die.”

In a calmer state, Buffy might have been more sympathetic to that, but Faith had gotten her rattled and suddenly the most spiteful interpretation seemed the most likely. “But what, I'd just get over it, is that what you're saying? That I'd just shrug it off and move on? Maybe get a nice pen pal somewhere exotic when they called in your replacement?”

They glared at each other, the trio of questions hanging heavily between them. Buffy's heart was beating away furiously, making its discomfort known. Neither one of them seemed like they were about to be the first to back down, but then, without even needing to open her mouth, Faith said it all with a simple shrug of her shoulders.

The action felt like a sucker punch deep into Buffy's gut, expelling her spirit straight out her gaping mouth and sending tears shooting up toward her eyes. She shook her head in total disbelief then quickly turned away and started walking, refusing to let Faith see the evidence of how deep she'd been cut.

“Where the hell are you going?” Faith called from behind.

Buffy couldn't believe that Faith still sounded like the one with the right to be angry, and she sure as hell wasn't about to stop to answer. She had already been tired and hungry; she'd wanted nothing more than for them both to go home. Now that the truth had come out, she was livid, and she felt sick to her stomach to boot. The person she'd thought would be the one thing that kept her going through whatever happened next had let the truth slip out. That's why, when Faith reached out and grabbed her by the arm, she snapped.

She let herself be pulled around before lashing out without warning. She didn't hold back, striking Faith hard with the back of her rigidly tight fist. Completely unprepared, Faith went straight down to the ground. “How dare you!” Buffy had wanted to scream, but the words that reverberated through her ears were weak and sorrowful. That didn't stop her from carrying on though, and nor did the first pair of tears that leaked out onto her face. “I have done everything I possibly could to make you feel like a part of my life,” she stressed. “I invited you into my home. Every night I've been out there with you, standing right there by your side. I have shared things with you that I have never told anyone else.” Her blurry eyes were making it difficult to focus on Faith's face. “But I guess none of that means anything. Apparently I'm just some cold-hearted bitch who doesn't give a crap about you. Right, Faith?”

Faith was still splayed out on the floor, having made no attempt at getting back to her feet. “I didn't say that.” Her voice somehow sounded more fragile than Buffy's.

“You didn't have to.” Buffy didn't need to read between the lines to grasp what Faith was thinking; that much had been made perfectly clear. She swiped away the tears running down one cheek with the back of her hand, but reinforcements were quick to roll in. “God, I can't believe I let myself start to think...”

Through her light-headedness she suddenly realized something, and she gave a brittle, humourless laugh. She couldn't believe how stupid she'd been, or how easily she'd let faith take her in; it was so obvious what was going on. “Get some and get gone, right?”

Faith looked puzzled. Or at least she pretended to, Buffy thought.

“What?” Faith asked.

“Were you going to teach me a lesson, is that it? Is this how you were going to pay me back for whatever awful thing it is I've done to you?”

“What?” Faith repeated. Suddenly she was scrambling to her feet and violently shaking her head. “Buffy, no, that's not – you've got it all wrong.”

Faith reached out, but Buffy quickly dodged back. “Touch me and I swear I will break your arm,” Buffy warned through gritted teeth.

Faith flinched, shrinking back and withdrawing her arm. “B, I swear, I didn't mean--”

“Don't. Just save it.”

“Buffy, please--”

“No!” Buffy interrupted fiercely. Each breath she took felt heavier, harder, than the one before it, but she forced her angry thoughts into words. “You know what? I'd rather be stuck in a hell dimension with Cordelia because at least she always had enough spine to be honest with me.” It was helping. Not a lot, but at least enough to focus. “I know I'm not perfect, but God, I have tried so hard to make things right with you. And if none of that was enough then...” Then there really was nothing left to say. “I'm getting out of here, and if you want to follow me, that's fine, but if you say one more word then we're going to have a serious problem.”

Faith looked like she'd been stunned into silence. Her shoulders hunched inward, her eyes looking only at Buffy's feet. Convinced that would be the end of it, Buffy turned and started walking.

“Fine,” she heard seconds later. “You want honest, here's honest.”

Faith slipped in front of Buffy, blocking her way, and Buffy's warning glare would have been enough to scare any vampire back into the safety of its grave. “You really want to do this?” she asked Faith, already positioning her legs ready for a fight. “Because if you think for one moment that--”

“I love you.”

Buffy swallowed her words through no choice of her own. Finding herself stranded within a sea of more questions, she floundered as she tried to pick out a single one to ask. Faith's intense, unblinking stare didn't make it any easier, but Buffy managed to pull herself back together just enough to utter a single, weak, “No.” She shook her head as she tried to step around Faith, but once again the girl darted into her path.

“I love you so much,” Faith repeated, both hands grasping at the centre of her chest. “Trust me, I've tried so hard not to.”

“I'm not listening to this.” Buffy stuck out an elbow as she barged her way past.

Faith took hold of that same elbow to spin her straight back around. She grabbed at Buffy's arms, but Buffy shook herself free before shoving Faith away. “I said don't touch me.”

Faith strode straight back up to her, twin sparks of determination lighting up her usually dark eyes. “Maybe it was the moment I first met you in that alleyway. Or maybe it was when you showed up at my apartment, barely knowing me for a day, already being majorly pissed at me, and for whatever reason still trying to help me out. Hell, I don't even know anymore; it feels like forever's already come and gone. But it's always been that way.”

Part of Buffy desperately wanted to believe what Faith was saying, but how could she after what had just happened? Nothing made sense anymore. She needed time to think, to process everything, and that meant she had to drag herself away before she got sucked in.

Faith followed at her heels, not ready to let it go. “Believe me or don't, it won't change how I feel. Nothing will. You're the only thing in my life that matters.”

Buffy was losing her battle to fight back more tears, but she grit her teeth, picked up her pace, and tried to keep her walls held up. “Right, but this is the first time you thought to mention it? Gee, that's convenient.”

That seemed to give Faith pause, but it didn't last for very long. “Do you remember back in high school when you skipped out on your chem test to go to that vamp nest with me?”

Buffy came to an abrupt standstill despite herself. Every ounce of logic screamed at her to keep going, but she needed to know what came next. Just in case. She sucked in her bottom lip and looked to the skies for some much-needed support. Her arms tightly clung to her body. Of course she remembered. The events of that night had foreshadowed just how bad things were about to get, but she hadn't forgotten how right the day that lead up to them had felt. Still felt.

“Do you remember?” Faith asked again. Softer that time, like she'd almost burnt through the last of her sudden surge of energy.

Buffy knew Faith was right behind her; the words had sounded so close that it felt like Faith was speaking to her telepathically. “I remember.” She hadn't intended to speak in a whisper, but that's the way it came out.

“After we spent all day together, after the way we took out those vamps, the way you danced with me at The Bronze, I started to let myself believe that maybe... maybe I actually had a shot. But before I could... everything started falling apart.” Layer by layer, the strength in Faith's voice was peeling away, and for Buffy that was the final straw. She closed her eyes, triggering the return of her tears with a renewed vigour. “And – and then it was too late. After... I didn't think you'd ever want to be around me again.”

It took all of Buffy's willpower to force herself to look at Faith. In the past twenty four hours she'd been almost devoured by a hell beast, infected, abducted by an army of demons, and forced to fight to the death, but now, for the first time, she felt terrified.

She didn't know what to expect, and when her eyes met Faith's her eyebrows pinched together at how disheartened she looked. The girl's shaking hands were lost in the air, indecision leaving them stuck between reaching out and pulling away. Faith's words had only added to Buffy's immense confusion, but maybe this was a subject she had a better chance at dealing with; she'd had time to come to terms with what had happened with Allan Finch. “I told you it would be OK,” Buffy said softly.

Faith weakly shook her head. “I saw the way you looked at me. You hated me for it. And I was so scared. I felt so lost. I didn't know what was going to happen.” Faith was in tears as well, her dark eye-liner being dragged down her face.

Buffy had seen and heard enough. This wasn't a ruse. It couldn't be. Faith had never been that good an actress. And then, staring at the scared, fragile face pleading before her, Buffy could clearly see everything she needed to know. It quelled her lingering doubts quicker than any assurances ever could. “No, Faith, I never hated you. Not for that or for anything else,” she promised, and that too was the truth. She stepped forward and wrapped her arms around Faith, trying to ease her in.

Faith fell against her, her hands knotting themselves up within the back of Buffy's top. “I'm sorry, Buffy,” she continued through her tears. “For everything that happened. Everything I did. I am. You tried to help me, and I just... I just...”

“Shhh,” Buffy cooed into Faith's ear, letting one hand wander up to stroke through her hair. “I forgive you, Faith. It's OK. It's all OK.”

Buffy could feel Faith slipping to her knees, and she dropped with her, not ready to let go. Faith buried her face into Buffy's shoulder as she continued to quietly sob, and Buffy pressed her lips to the top of Faith's head, doing what she could to try to soothe the trembling girl.