Thanks to BuffyRat at TSR for a line in this chapter. :D



--

Seven o’clock Monday evening, in Shady Hill cemetery.

Buffy was on her fifth demon of the night, a Fyarl that didn’t seem at all impressed by her quick work with a stake, when she felt a familiar tingle and caught sight of a shock of blond hair.

She made a hasty retreat and was gone from the cemetery before he could catch up to her.

~

One o’clock Tuesday afternoon, at the Magic Box.

She’d been sure he wouldn’t be there then, in the middle of the afternoon. But apparently, Spike didn’t let sunshine get in the way of what he wanted, and there he was, flirting shamelessly with Anya and Tara inside, when she started to open the door.

She went out to grab lunch before she returned. This time, Tara and Anya were still there, but Spike was thankfully gone.

“Hey, guys,” she greeted them, pulling up a chair next to Tara. “What’s going on?”

“F-Faith asked me to look into some spells to alter perception,” Tara told her. “Sh-she thinks that they’ll be good for fighting the new bad guys, since th-they did something like that to her.”

“Alter perception?” Buffy repeated.

“Yes, like memory spells,” Anya said briskly, ignoring Tara’s frown.

“Well, n-not just memory spells,” Tara said. “I guess they’d also fall under that c-category, though.” She flipped through her book, frowning.

Buffy’s eyebrows shot up. So Faith doesn’t want to get involved, but still wants Tara to know without Willow finding out how she knows? Shame that she has no finesse about it. And that Anya apparently doesn’t know how to keep a secret. She wiped the redeeming thoughts about Faith out of her head. She didn’t really feel like being nice to Faith. Not after Faith had basically marked Spike as her territory. I’m surprised that she didn’t pee all over him, too, Buffy thought resentfully.

And just like that, all the pro-Faith thoughts were gone.

~

Seven-thirty Tuesday night, in front of the house.

She could see him leaning against the fence post, smoking up a storm, his eyes shifting from window to window like a predator hunting his prey. Who was his prey today? Faith had work, Buffy had patrol. Both in places that he frequented. Buffy couldn’t remember Spike ever picking Faith up before, though.

“He must have information,” Faith said, barging into Buffy’s new room and joining her at the window. She’d switched to Giles’s old one when a bad rainstorm earlier in the week had flooded the basement floor and left it damp and a little moldy. So now her housemates had apparently decided that they had free reign of her room. “He usually walks me to Willy’s when he’s got something important to tell me.”

“Good for you.” Buffy tried to sound uninterested.

Faith smirked. “Nice try. Once more, without the googly eyes.”

Buffy felt her anger flare at that. “Shut up, Faith.”

Faith opened the window and yanked up her shirt to flash Spike. He rolled his eyes, cocking his head to face Buffy. Buffy looked away.

Faith slammed the window shut. “It was cute at first, this crush you’ve got on my man. But you need to cut it out. Now. Because if there’s one thing you need to know about Faith the Vampire Slayer…” She pulled the curtains in the room so that Spike couldn’t see in, and headed for the door. “I don’t like to share.”

~

Ten o’clock Wednesday night, the Bronze.

She should have known, when she didn’t run into Spike on patrol, that he’d be here. But she hadn’t been thinking, too distressed at the sight of Willow and Tara acting cozy while watching Dawn to think about Operation: Avoid Spike.

Now, she was going to have to wait until he and Xander finished their game of pool before she had a chance to speak to the human boy.

Spike sensed her, of course, sitting alone at a corner table facing them and drinking something vaguely alcoholic. He turned to face her too quickly for her to dodge his gaze and quirked an eyebrow at her.

But he didn’t approach her. Buffy knew he’d taken her cues and was going to let her get away with avoiding him. Instead, he just poked Xander, nodded toward her, and made a hasty retreat.

Xander wandered over, gazing back at the pool table longingly. “What’s up?”

“I need to talk to you,” Buffy said finally. Xander wasn’t the first person she’d have chosen to go to with this problem, but she was avoiding Spike, and Tara…

“It’s about Tara.”

“Oh.” Xander blinked. “Right, Anya told me. Willow’s been wiping Tara’s memories.”

“Yes!” Buffy frowned at the uncomfortable look on Xander’s face. “What’s wrong?”

“Look…” Xander shifted in his seat. “You really don’t want to get involved in this. Willow won’t like it.”

“So?” Buffy shook her head in disbelief. “Don’t tell me that Xander Harris is a coward, afraid of his best friend!”

“I’m not afraid of Willow!” Xander said, stung. He took a deep breath. “Look. I’ve been here for a while. And you haven’t. Willow and Tara…they’re good together. And sure, Willow’s gotten freakishly scary lately, but she’s still the same old Will, and I know she knows what she’s doing. It’s not like we have to hold an intervention for her.”

“She’s a control freak,” Buffy retorted. “She’s forcing Tara to be with her. Why is that right?”

Xander looked away. “I don’t know,” he said softly. “But it’s not our business.”

--

“Shit. Shit, shit, shit!” Warren growled, scowling at his computer.

“What is it?” Jonathan asked, bored.

Warren gestured at the screen. “The witch is on to us.”

“Damn.” Jonathan frowned. “Should we call off the mission?”

“No,” Warren said, a devilish smile spreading across his face. “I’ve got a plan.”

--

Faith frowned. “Are you sure?” She hadn’t seen anything that would indicate what Willow was hypothesizing, not from their mysterious new villains.

Willow nodded, the black energy crackling from her fingers into the laptop and calling up another set of files. “Someone’s been tampering with the security system at the museum, specifically in the area where this diamond is located. I’d bet it’s our time-altering friend.”

Faith tried to make sense of the files on the screen, but eventually gave up and turned back to her friend. “How did you even find this?” she wondered. “I mean, of all the random places where this guy could attack…”

Willow shrugged. “I’ve got my fingers in every enterprise in Sunnydale. Last year, our Big Bad was hiding in the hospital, of all places. Who knows where demons could show up next?” Her eyes glittered, suddenly hard as steel. “I’m just trying to be useful, since for some reason, you’ve put Tara in charge of researching memory spells instead of me.” Faith felt a chill run through her at Willow’s cold glare. She concealed it quickly. Willow didn’t respect fear. “Now why would that be?”

Faith shrugged, nonchalant. “I wanted to give her something to do. You’re the head witch, and you barely ever need her help. I felt bad.”

Immediately, Willow’s expression changed from cold to concern. “You don’t think she’s feeling insecure, do you?”

“Maybe a little?” Faith ventured. Willow’s one weakness was Tara. As long as she kept her on that thought, Willow wouldn’t be wondering just what Faith might know.

She shook her head. How long ago had it been that Willow had been her best friend, the supportive, quirky sidekick type who thought the world of her? The girl that had come to her when she had started on magic, when she had wanted a new look, or when she was afraid she might be gay? When Glory had hurt Tara, it had brought out something dangerous in Willow, something that had stunned Faith. Willow was strong, she’d discovered that night. Willow could hurt Glory. So Faith had encouraged Willow’s power, praised the darkness that had subsumed her while Giles worried about it.

There was nothing like a role model’s praise to send someone down a dangerously dark path.

But Faith tried not to think about it. As a Slayer, she couldn’t dwell on past mistakes. Her job was to live in the now, and take the threats as they came. Willow wasn’t a threat, but an ally. And Faith wanted to keep it that way.

“Oh, no,” Willow sighed, wringing her hands in worry. “Poor Tara…” She stood. “I’ve got to go. Do something for her. Keep her safe.”

Stifle her and imprison her in a bubble? Faith thought as Willow left. But she didn’t say it out loud.

Bored, she touched the screen of the laptop, jerking her hand back when it sizzled with electricity. Whoa. Weird.

For a while, she amused herself by seeing how long she could hold her hand against the screen. When her fingers were tingling and sparking little electric shocks every time she touched them to each other, she gave it a rest. It was probably a good idea to stake out the museum today, anyway. Although the last thing she wanted to do was spend a day alone at the most boring place in Sunnydale…

It occurred to her to bring Spike, but she quickly nixed that idea. If there was anyone out there who had a shorter attention span than she did, it was Spike. They’d probably just end up having lots of sex instead of watching the diamond. Not that Spike was being very forthcoming about sex, either, these days.

“Not fair,” she mumbled to herself as she pulled on her coat. It wasn’t. She’d spent three years cleaning up the mess that Buffy had left behind, and now what did she have to show for it? A little sister who’d been hanging out with Buffy instead of with her. At least two Scoobies who also seemed to prefer being with Buffy. Her father figure treating Buffy like his daughter and Faith like a poor substitute. And worst of all, her man, the one she’d been with for over two years, was treating Buffy like she was the best thing since sliced bread.

Faith didn’t delude herself. She and Spike weren’t in love, not at all. They were just two friends who enjoyed fucking, too. But she’d always (alright, after Adam) been able to count on him. She’d always known that he would back her up. Except now, when her enemy was slowly stripping away the connections she’d been building for years, and everyone’s reactions were, “Suck it up, Faith.” Get over it. Move on. Buffy was taking everything back, and no one seemed to care. And Spike…that idiot, he was already practically in love with her. He was backing Buffy, not Faith. And Faith hated them both for that.

At least she had loyal Willow, who felt the same way. And she wasn’t going to give her up, no matter how creepy she’d become.

She took the mail in absentmindedly, flipping through bills and junk to a manila envelope addressed to her. It hadn’t been mailed, either. It had no stamps or address, just her name written in clear, block letters.

She opened it, pulling out the pictures inside.

“You’re shitting me,” she mumbled, gaping at them. Spike and Buffy, in her basement. Spike, leaning over Buffy as she lay in bed. Bending to…kiss her? Spike and Buffy, outside the Bronze. Talking. Leaning closer. Spike, a finger to Buffy’s lips as he hovered millimeters away. Spike, kissing Buffy on the cheek.

She didn’t think about how her mysterious sender had gotten images in her basement. She didn’t think about the possible jewelry heist, or why she’d gotten this package. Her only thoughts were of Spike, and that bitch.

Oh, yes. Faith would show her who owned Spike.

--

Eleven o’clock Thursday evening, in her room.

Buffy banged her head against the desk in her new room, wondering when math had gotten so complicated. She was pretty sure that she had never learned any of this in ninth, tenth or eleventh grade, and there was no way anyone could learn it in only one year. But if she was going to get her GED, she needed to grasp trig. Damn.

“Don’t think so,” she heard a low English voice from the next room, and her head popped up. Spike! She smiled despite herself.

Then it faltered as she realized that there was only one reason why he’d be in Faith’s room.

“Oh, come on. You get off on doing it here,” she heard Faith say coyly. “Remember when Giles was-“

“I’m not going to do it, Faith,” Spike said impatiently.

“Why? Because of her?” Faith said, the venom in her voice startling Buffy. She hadn’t sounded that pissed about Buffy since the musical demon. “Are you afraid you’ll hurt poor little Buffy’s feelings?”

Spike sighed. “Look, Slayer, I’m not going to help you in some insane scheme to rub it in Buffy’s face.”

Buffy felt a surge of affection for the vampire. She moved to the bed so she could hear better, leaning her head against the dividing wall that stood between them.

Faith wasn’t finished. “Rub what, exactly? Our sex life? The fact that you’re with me and not her?” Her voice was rising, and Buffy was sure that Dawn was awake in her room, too, listening in to the conversation. “That she’s what you want?”

“Keep this up, and…” Spike muttered leadingly, loud enough for Buffy to hear.

Faith punched him, and he slammed into the wall with a crash.

Buffy jumped up and headed for the door. Spike had the chip; he couldn’t defend himself against Faith if she decided to go crazy. She skidded into the hallway, meeting an equally worried Dawn halfway, and they opened the door-

-Just in time to see Spike slam her back reflexively, throwing her across the room easily. And not recoiling from the chip at all.

It seemed like time stood still for a moment. Faith and Spike both looked stunned. Dawn was shaking with unconcealed worry. Buffy, who’d barely gotten used to the idea of the chip, wondered what this meant for all of them.

Finally, Faith stood up shakily and made the decision she had to. “Get out,” she growled at Spike.

He glanced over at their audience. “Faith, I-“

“Get out!” she snapped, shoving him toward the door.

His hand brushed Buffy’s on his way downstairs, and she watched him go regretfully. If anything, this was a wakeup call. She might have feelings for Spike, but as soon as the chip was gone, he was nothing more than a monster. She’d forgotten the most important lesson that Angelus had taught her, but she wouldn’t stray again.

She was just glad that things hadn’t gone any further between them. It might have broken her heart.