“Let me in!”

Xander heard the pounding at the door and was unsurprised when it finally flew open. “Don’t think so,” he said casually, taking a seat on the armchair beside Spike’s couch. He’d suspected that this moment would come eventually, and with all the hatred he’d had pent up over the years for the intruder, he planned to enjoy it completely.

Spike stirred, his eyes opening sleepily. “Is that…?” His voice trailed off as the full effects of his current hangover hit him and he ran for the bathroom. Xander winced. Anya had spent the good part of yesterday cleaning blood off the bathroom floor, and if she had to do it two nights before her wedding… He’d never hear the end of it.

There was a loud, sickening sound of retching from the other room. “Made it to the toilet this time!” Spike called when the sound finally stopped.

From the doorway, Angel roared in fury and launched himself against the barrier.

Xander smirked. “Having fun, Dead Boy?”

“He’s done something!” Angel snapped. “Some kind of magical manipulation! You’ll all be dead if I don’t take care of him!”

“Yeah, Spike’s so scary,” Xander agreed, rolling his eyes. “Please. Bunnies are scarier than he is.”

“Oi!” Spike said, emerging from the bathroom with bloodstained lips. “I can be scary!”

Xander scowled at him. “Is it too much to ask for you to wash your face?”

Spike smirked. “Aw, are you afraid to kiss me like this? I thought our love transcended little things like my eating habits.”

“Sorry, Blood Breath.” Xander matched his smirk. “Even I draw the line at that.” He fought down the slightest arousal at Spike’s leer. What? No one, male or female, alive or undead, could resist that! And besides, he liked Anya better. Really.

“Come on!” Angel said furiously. “He’s a vampire! Evil, soulless-“

“-Chipped,” Spike finished, raising his eyebrows. “So why aren’t you at home right now with your honey?” His fists were clenched, and Xander was suddenly worried. It was one thing to keep Angel away from Spike while there was a barrier in place. It was something else entirely to keep Spike from Angel, and as much faith as he had in his friend’s ability to beat up the souled vampire, he knew that Spike was still fighting a nasty hangover and more than a little irrational when it came to Buffy.

Plus, after the super’s talk with him yesterday, he knew she wouldn’t be pleased to find that his drunkard friend was still around and had destroyed the hallway in a brawl.

Angel lunged at the doorway again. “I know there’s something going on between you and Buffy!” he growled. “What did you do to her?”

“He didn’t do anything,” cut in a female voice, and Buffy was suddenly pulling Angel from the doorway, looking pale and worried and not meeting Spike’s gaze. “And I told you not to go after him. I’m sorry it took me so long,” she said, turning to Xander apologetically. “I didn’t know that he’d come here first. I guess he heard us talking.”

Xander threw a sidelong glance at Spike. He was staring at Buffy like a starving man would look at his last morsel of bread, his eyes open and needy. But as he watched, Spike’s eyes hardened and he looked away, stalking back to the bathroom.

Buffy finally turned to look intently at Spike, and Xander was pleased to notice that she had a similar, hungry expression on her face.

Angel turned to her. “Buffy…” he said, his voice pained.

“It has nothing to do with you,” she said softly. “Please, just come home with me.”

And with one last longing glance at the bathroom where Spike had vanished, she and Angel were gone.

Xander wondered just who she thought she was kidding.

--

“How are we doing?” Dawn asked, coiffed up as a bridesmaid and shooting suspicious looks at Halfrek, who had a sly smile curling up the sides of her face. “Everyone ready?” It might not have been the real wedding yet, but Xander and Anya had decided to make the rehearsal earlier the same day to minimize the amount of time that they had to spend with all their relatives and friends together. Time was of the essence now, before the guests all arrived and the wedding had to officially start.

Tara checked her watch worriedly. “W-We’re right on schedule, except we’re missing o-one bridesmaid.”

“Let me guess.” Faith rolled her eyes. “Buffy’s playing hooky.”

“She’ll be here,” Dawn said confidently, not looking at Faith. She was still sulking because Spike hadn’t yet emerged from his drunken stupor. Willow had tried to sober him up for the rehearsal, at least, but she’d been surprisingly ineffectual in that regard.

“You have far too much faith in her,” Faith muttered. “She’ll disappoint you. It’s what she does.”

“F-Faith!” Tara said reprovingly, and Faith nearly jumped at the timid girl’s unexpected burst of confidence. “She’ll be here.”

“Doesn’t she make you angry, Dawnie?” Halfrek wheedled. “Don’t you just wish-?”

“Cut it out, Hallie,” Anya said sharply, stepping into the room. “No wishes before the wedding.” She looked around, frowning. “Where are Willow and Buffy? Why are they late?” Her voice rose drastically as she spoke, searching for the missing girls wildly.

“Willow’s in the groom’s room, working on Spike.” For a minute, a guilty look passed over Tara’s face, but Faith discounted it immediately. There was no way that Tara had anything to do with Willow’s sudden trouble with magic. She couldn’t even stop the dark witch from screwing with her memories. “Buffy’s a no-show.”

“What?” Anya demanded, her pitch rising to window-shattering proportions. “She has to be here! She’s in the wedding party!” She turned to Faith. “Make her come back! Now!”

Faith almost laughed at that. Why should she be responsible for bringing Buffy back? They didn’t even like each other, let alone listen to one another... But then she looked at Anya’s tense face, and Dawn’s defiant eyes, and Tara’s concerned gaze, and she realized that she wouldn’t be the first to try. Not even close.

“I can’t work miracles,” Faith argued. So Buffy had done a runner. Why was it her problem to fix?

Anya glared at her. “You and Willow, you caused this. Now it’s the morning before my wedding and I’m short a bridesmaid and the Best Man. If you ruin my wedding, I’ll, I’ll…”

“Make a wish?” Halfrek asked hopefully.

Anya swung her head to stare at her vengeance demon friend. “Yes!” She eyeballed Faith. “And it’s going to be a gory one!”

Faith sighed. She knew when to pick her battles. “I’ll go work on Spike.”

Spike was in the room the groom was supposed to be using, drinking a bottle of Jack Daniels as Willow watched hopelessly.

“What the hell’s wrong with you?” Faith demanded, yanking him up. “Xander’s trying to get married, and you’re drunk on the floor. What are you, his father?”

Spike just stared blankly up at her.

Faith punched him in the face. “Go take care of your best friend. He’s counting on you.”

Silently, Spike picked himself up from the floor, handed her the bottle, and staggered out of the room. Faith turned to Willow. “Make sure he gets to the main room okay. Tell Anya that I’ll be back for the real deal.”

“Where are you going?” Willow demanded, her eyes flashing. “Not to Buffy!”

Faith shook her head. “Let it go, Willow. We screwed this thing up. It’s time to fix it.”

“Don’t go anywhere!” Willow hissed, and suddenly, Faith was involuntarily rooted to the spot. “I’m not losing you to her, too!”

Faith gaped at her friend. Oh, god. Was this what Willow had become? Someone who would use magic as force when things didn’t go her way? Well, obviously. Where have you been? Willow had been doing this for months now, but it hadn’t hit home until she found herself frozen in place, her free will stripped from her because Willow didn’t like something she’d said.

It had been building up for a while, but the epiphany hit her full force at that moment. She’d taken the wrong side on this conflict, blinded by jealousy and insecurity. And in doing so, she’d fueled Willow’s rage and validated her anger.

It was time to go make amends.

Spike jerked against Willow suddenly, ruining her focus and freeing Faith. Their eyes met, and Faith was relieved to see that he’d been sobered by her violence and Willow’s manipulations. “Go,” he said urgently, and swung around to totter, mostly steadily, toward the main room.

She took off, too determined with her mission to worry about what she’d do when she confronted Buffy.

--

She’d chickened out at the last minute. She’d been ready to go, ready to not disappoint Anya and Tara and Xander and okay, even Dawn, but then she’d seen Spike’s eyes, hard as steel, and she’d known that she couldn’t see him again, not so soon. The wedding rehearsal was probably going on even then, and she was instead sitting silently in her living room, staring blankly at her high school yearbook. Her mother had gotten it for her, ostensibly hoping that she’d come home. She gazed down at a photo of her and Willow and Xander and Cordelia, tracing the lines of Willow’s innocent face. Angel sat on the chair next to the couch, a small book of poetry in his hands. They were both pretending to read, but she knew that he was still seething at her dismissal from two nights before and the way she was still keeping her relationship with Spike from him.

The doorbell rang, and Buffy didn’t stop Angel from getting it. She didn’t want to see Tara, or whoever had come to get her. Maybe Angel would glower them away, or something.

She was startled at the voice she heard from the entryway. “Damn, B. Now I get it.”

“Faith.” Buffy rose unsteadily, heading for the door. “Shouldn’t you be at the rehearsal?”

Faith put a hand to Angel’s chest, pushing him away so she could saunter in. She paused for a minute, running her hands over his chest admiringly. “Hell agreed with you, vampire,” she noted, licking her lips.

Angel stared at her, taken aback. “You’re the other slayer?”

“Call me Faith,” she purred. Angel blinked at her bemusedly.

Buffy glared at them, annoyed. “Faith? Mind telling me why you’re here?”

“Hm?” Faith tore her eyes away from Angel. “Oh, right. You.”

“Me,” Buffy agreed.

Faith looked around appreciatively. “Nice little love shack you’ve got here, B.”

“We’re not- It’s not-“ Angel looked to Buffy for help. She shrugged.

“Right.” Faith turned back to Buffy. “Listen, Buffy, I get that you’re all depressed and have a complex about running away or whatever, but you’ve gotta get over it,” she informed Buffy, suddenly very earnest. It was a new look for Faith, and kind of disconcerting. “Somehow, you’ve managed to worm your way into my friends’ hearts, and I’ll be damned if I’m gonna let you break them.” She glared at Buffy. “So you’d better get the hell out of your little dreamworld and drag your ass to the wedding, got it?”

Buffy knew that her jaw had dropped, but she couldn’t manage to lift it. Willow aside, Faith was the last one she’d have expected to come after her. And here she was, not to gloat or vent, but to bring Buffy back into the circle. “But Spike…”

Faith shrugged. “I think Spike’s an idiot to pick you over me. But he picked, and he doesn’t seem to be changing his mind, so I’ll just deal with it.” She moved to the kitchen, Angel hovering behind her with interest, and took a seat. “What are you waiting for? You can’t just show up at the actual wedding to work things out. Anya will kill you for stealing her thunder.” She took a seat in the kitchen, pulling the package of Oreos on the counter over to where she was sitting.

“Why are you still here?” Buffy asked, genuinely confused.

Faith split an Oreo and licked off the cream almost sensuously, her eyes fixed on Angel. “You’ve already got a vampire. I’m commandeering this one.”

“You’re what?” Angel repeated, his brow creasing.

Buffy was a little bemused, but oddly enough, not in the least bit jealous. The person she really wanted was waiting for her, and she was going to make it right. She rose to the tip of her toes to kiss Angel on the cheek. “I’ve got to go to Spike,” she said softly.

“You what?” he repeated, narrowing his eyes and taking a step toward her.

Faith scowled at his distractedness and grabbed his arm to swing him around to face her. “Hey! I’m over here!”

Buffy grinned at them and raced upstairs to get the bridesmaid’s dress.

“Hurry up, B!” Faith called after her. “Spike’s waiting!”

She applied her makeup and curled her hair as hastily as she could without turning it into a disaster, ignoring Angel’s angry murmurs from the kitchen and the careless chatter from Faith as she calmed the vampire.

When she was satisfied with how she looked, she headed back downstairs, dress in hand, and blinked at the scene in front of her. Somehow, Faith had gotten Angel to sit, and she was straddling his lap, adjusting his gelled hair.

“Is it okay now?” Angel asked anxiously.

“Not yet,” Faith decided, wriggling around on his lap some more. Angel’s gulp was nearly audible.

Buffy smirked at Faith, unable to resist one parting shot. “By the way, this one can’t have sex.”

Faith’s eyes widened in horror.