I'm all finished with the fic, so I'll be updating each chapter as soon as I'm satisfied with the amount of reviews for the prior one. :)



Willow held the blood out to her ward absently, her mind on other matters. She’d only thought about bringing Angel back, and hadn’t focused at all on what would happen next. Her guess was that time moved much faster in the hell dimension where he’d been, long enough to turn him feral. Now he was just another thing to take care of.

Not that there’s much else to do these days, she thought resentfully. Tara was being surprisingly stubborn about their breakup. She’d even paid Anya rent and was living in her apartment so that she wouldn’t have to see Willow, and Willow was almost positive that she’d started calling the Magic Box before coming to ensure that she wasn’t around. And every time Willow had tried to touch her mind, she’d been repelled by an equally powerful magical force. The same thing had happened when she’d tried to vent out her frustrations with a nasty hex or thousand on Buffy, and she seethed at the idea of Tara and Buffy plotting together behind her back.

Oh, well. If she knew one thing that had never failed making Buffy miserable, it was Angelus. And regardless of whether or not this monster was that one, it would certainly make Buffy go away. She was nearly finished with the potion that should restore Angel’s mind. All she needed was nightshade harvested at midnight on the fifteenth of the lunar month, and it would be the full moon tomorrow.

Buffy was going down.

--

Buffy was going up. “Are you sure about this?” she hissed, craning her neck downward to check how her partner in crime was doing.

“Relax, B, I’m going to take good care of you.” Faith smirked up at her, gripping one of Buffy’s ankles with each hand unconcernedly.

“Why is that not reassuring?” Buffy said sardonically, stiffening her legs to try to steady herself.

Faith grinned. “Ready?” She glanced upwards and did a double-take, nearly dropping Buffy. “Wow, B! Really? I wouldn’t have thought you had it in you!”

“Last time I wear a skirt on patrol,” Buffy muttered, rolling her eyes. So much for her surprise for Spike. Suddenly, she was very red.

Faith steadied her, her eyebrows still waggling suggestively. Buffy forced herself not to use her perfectly placed feet to give Faith a little impromptu nose job.

“Hey, I’ve got a better idea!” she said brightly. “Why don’t I throw you into a second-story window instead?”

“I am the B and E expert of the two of us,” Faith conceded. “But I’m also taller than you.”

“By like an inch!” Buffy protested.

“Get ready!” Faith ordered, ignoring her objections, and hurled her upward and forward. Buffy flew through the air, grabbing onto the edge of Jonathan’s window with the tips of her fingers, using her momentum to kick off the edge of the house to flip backward and land, crouching, in the open window space.

She yanked up the screen and shot Faith a grin. “I’m in.”

This newfound camaraderie between them was even more freeing than she’d imagined. United by their desire to destroy the nerd trio, Faith and Buffy had grudgingly begun to work together, regardless of how much they disliked each other. And two slayers? Certainly more effective than one.

Although truth be told, Spike could have thrown me, too. Not that we would’ve gotten that far if he’d looked up my skirt... She grinned at the thought.

“How’s it going?” Faith asked in a normal voice that Buffy heard clearly with her enhanced senses.

“I’m looking,” she responded, hurrying over to Jonathan’s desk. It was surprisingly pristine. She’d always sort of imagined that he’d be one of those guys whose floors you couldn’t find until you dug through the rubble. But there was disappointingly nothing incriminating in his room. No journal that she could find, no written down address of his lair, no taped confession to killing a girl. She sighed in frustration.

“Hit redial on his phone,” Faith suggested from below.

She looked around the room for a phone. “He doesn’t even have a phone in his room!” she groaned in sheer frustration. “How lame is that? I practically lived in a cardboard box and I had a phone!”

“Let’s try something else,” Faith decided. “Come on down.”

She fell hard, somersaulting on the ground and landing on her feet. “What did you have in mind?”

“Come on.” Faith led the way to the front door, ringing the doorbell and waiting patiently.

A pretty middle-aged woman opened the door, smiling kindly at them. “Can I help you?”

“Is Jonathan home?” Faith asked in a voice so mock-sweet that Buffy almost gagged.

The woman gaped at them. “Jonathan Levinson?” she asked carefully. Buffy smothered a laugh.

“Yep,” Faith nodded enthusiastically. “We’re old friends from high school! I was hoping to find him here?”

The woman’s eyes narrowed. “Look, I don’t know what you’re trying, or what kind of a dare this is-“ She eyed them both up and down disdainfully. “But you’re not going to do it to my son. He’s better than being your ridiculous sorority initiations, and I won’t take it anymore!” She slammed the door shut.

Buffy and Faith stared at each other. “Wow,” Buffy said finally.

“I think I actually feel kinda bad for the shrimp right now,” Faith agreed.

Buffy sighed. “Want to just go home?”

“Guess so,” Faith agreed.

They watched bad TV until Buffy finally begged off to sleep, citing that she had a class in the morning. The quest for revenge would continue the next day.

--

Later the next night, before Faith got off work and they started their hunt for the trio anew, Spike stopped by the house unexpectedly.

“Hey, Little Bit,” Buffy heard him greeting Dawn downstairs, and she hurried for the stairs. “Haven’t seen you around much lately.”

“Tara’s been staying with me at night,” Dawn said in a frosty tone.

Spike stared at her, perplexed. “Platelet?”

“My name is Dawn,” she informed him, stalking up the stairs, brushing past Buffy with a little more force than necessary.

“Sorry,” Buffy said apologetically, descending the steps to him. “She hasn’t been happy with us since the pictures.”

“Right,” Spike said heavily, pulling her into his arms for a soft kiss. “Worth it,” he whispered in her ear, grinning like the cat that had eaten the canary.

Buffy grinned back. “What brings you here? Faith’s going to be home soon.”

“Think I’ve got a lead for the Nerdy Three,” Spike explained. “There’s a bar where Robot Boy’s been spotted a few times, even now that he’s lying low. Thought we could go there, check out the scene…”

“William the Bloody,” Buffy began, mock-serious, “Are you asking me on a date?”

He ducked his head like a nervous schoolboy. “Would you say yes?”

“I just might,” she said flirtatiously, linking her arm with his. “Lead the way.”

The door opened suddenly, and Buffy and Spike sprang apart.

“Hey, B. You look like you’ve seen a ghost,” Faith said curiously. Then she caught sight of Spike, and pretty much forgot that Buffy existed. “Hello, lover,” she purred, slinking up to him from behind to whisper into his ear.

Spike looked to Buffy imploringly. She shrugged helplessly.

He stepped forward, out of Faith’s personal space, and turned to face her. “’Lo, Slayer,” he greeted her, backing up a little more until he almost crashed into Buffy. Out of Faith’s sight, she raised a hand to press it comfortingly against his back.

Faith looked disappointed, and her eyes darkened. “What are you doing here? Not screwing me, that’s for sure,” she mumbled.

“Got a place where Robot Boy frequents,” he muttered reluctantly, Buffy’s hand under the back of his shirt the only thing keeping him from fleeing the other slayer.

“Ooh, a date!” Faith bounced over to him to grab his hand.

He winced at the disappearance of the warmth at his back, and let Faith go. “Sorry, love, but I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

“Oh? You were going to go with her, then?” Faith nodded at Buffy, suspicious again.

“No, he wanted both of you to come along,” Dawn informed Faith from the top of the stairs. Buffy glanced at her, startled at her sudden defense of them.

“Oh. Okay,” Faith said, appeased. “Just give me a second for a pit stop and I’ll be ready to go,” she informed them, heading for the bathroom.

“Thanks.” Buffy smiled up at Dawn.

Dawn glowered at them. “I didn’t do it for you. I did it for my sister.” She turned to Spike. “You had better flirt back when she flirts with you, or she’ll suspect something, if you two keep making with the moon eyes.”

“She’s right,” Buffy agreed grudgingly, running a hand over his arm. “But I don’t like it.”

“Ready?” Faith asked, popping back into the room. Buffy dropped her hand.

A truly evil smile spread across Dawn’s face. “Have fun,” she murmured, and vanished into her room until Tara arrived.

--

If Faith said one more damned innuendo, Buffy would kill her herself. And if Spike leered one more time, then to hell with it and he was going, too. Hey, she’d sent one boyfriend to hell, and she could do it again.

“We’re here!” Faith announced, linking her hand with Spike’s. She moved to lick up the side of his face. “Want to do some shots like we did that one time at my birthday?” she breathed.

Buffy clenched her jaw. Oh, that was it. She rounded on Faith, but the girl was gone, towing Spike along with her.

“Coming, B?” Faith called to her, shoving Spike onto a barstool and climbing onto his lap.

Spike stood up abruptly, sending Faith toppling to the ground. “You know what?” he said finally. “You chits take care of this scene. I’ll see you around.” He was out the door in a flash, leaving behind a frustrated Faith and a very relieved Buffy.

Faith scowled. “Oh, screw this. I’m getting laid.” She stormed off in the direction of a crowd of college guys and shoved one into the wall, kissing him forcefully.

Buffy shrugged, bemused, and raced after Spike. She caught him halfway through Restfield, grabbed him, spun him around, and devoured his lips with all her pent-up frustration from the night.

Spike pulled away, gaping, and grinned, relieved, when he realized who had jumped him. “For a second there, I thought that you were Faith,” he said, then closed the space between them again.

Clothes were shoved out of the way, bodies were locked together, and Spike was inside her faster than ever before. Her every nerve was sensitized to him, her heart was racing, she was hotter than she’d ever been, and he was, too…

She came with a scream the instant he reached his hand down between them, and he followed her off the precipice a moment later, roaring in ecstasy as he shot within her.

She sagged against his body, he still within her. “Kiss me,” she managed, her head lolling against his shoulder.

He lifted her face up with shaking hands. “That was…I never…” His eyes shone, and she kissed them tenderly.

He began to harden within her, and she laughed. “Again?”

“Yeah.” He stroked her hair. “You got a problem with that?”

“I do,” said an icy voice from behind the tall tombstone they’d been up against. “But hey, that never stopped you before, huh?” Faith stepped out to face them, her eyes very dark.

Buffy gaped at her. “Faith, I…”

“Try it when my boy’s dick isn’t in your hole,” Faith snapped. She spun around, away from them. “God, I can’t even look at you two! How long were you doing this? Playing me for a fool?”

Buffy pulled away from Spike, hastily pulling herself together. “I- We didn’t-“

Faith punched her in the nose. “Not you!” she growled, as Spike ran to help Buffy up. “I knew that you were slime. I knew you’d take everything from me!” She rounded on Spike. “But you… You son of a bitch! You were mine! We were together for years! What happened? You found a better fuck? Is that it?”

“It wasn’t like that!” Buffy protested, moving in front of Spike protectively.

“Shut up!” Faith shouted. “Then what was it? Huh? What does she have that I don’t?” She glared daggers at Spike, her eyes wild and desperate.

What Spike said next stunned them all. “I love her,” he said simply.

Faith gaped at Spike, then remembered herself. “If you set foot into my house again, I’ll kill you,” she informed Buffy, storming off in disgust.

Buffy watched her go blankly, feeling suddenly weighted down, more than she’d ever been since she’d killed Angel. Spike loved her. Damn.

“You can stay with me,” Spike offered gently, reaching out to her.

She pulled away as if she’d been burned. “I- I need some space,” she said hastily. Seeing his face fall, she admitted quietly, “I just need to adjust, you know?”

“I understand,” he said, his face suddenly unreadable. “I’ll see you?”

“Yeah,” she murmured, walking off.

She didn’t quite know where she was going until her feet led her to Revello Drive. The basement window was open, so she let herself in and climbed up the familiar stairs to her room.

It had been cleaned, but beyond that, nothing had really changed. She stretched out on the bed and hugged Mr. Gordo to her chest, staring blankly at the ceiling, and cried.

--

Faith stormed into Willow’s dorm, shoving aside the students in the hallway, ignoring their annoyed shouts, and slammed open the door. “Do it, Willow. Whatever crap you have planned for Buffy, do it. Screw her over. Both of them.”

“Them?” Willow pulled her to the bed, giving her a hug. “What happened?”

“Buffy. And Spike.” She felt sick. Nauseous. Furious. Hysterical. “Together.”

“Oh, Faith,” Willow said sympathetically, pulling Faith’s head to rest on her shoulder. “I’m so sorry.” She eyed the nasty-looking concoction on the dresser. “I can fix it in about an hour, if you want.”

“You’ll break them up?” Faith demanded, all the energy draining out of her.

“I will,” Willow assured her.

Faith lay down on the bed. “Make it hurt,” she said coldly.

Willow’s eyes glittered with barely contained excitement. “I wouldn’t have it any other way.”