That night, Buffy and her sister and friends stayed up very, very late, talking about all that had happened during her long absence, both to them and to her, and planning what they needed to do now, where to go from here.

Buffy decided immediately that she was going to begin regular patrolling again, every night. She was going to make it her personal priority to kill as many of Faith’s minions as she could, and drive the rest back into the shadows where they belonged. She wanted to make it safe – relatively speaking – for people to go out at night again.

Her friends had agreed with her that when she put this into action, Faith would show herself. There would be no need for Buffy to seek her out, because it was certain that the other Slayer would come to her – and that would give Buffy the advantage. The fight would be on her terms, not Faith’s.

As to the mystery that was still most important to Buffy – the identity of her mother’s murderer – she was certain that Spike knew the answer. She was determined to find him, trap him if possible so that he couldn’t get away this time, and somehow get the truth out of him.

Another worry had occurred to her, however. *Not* killing Faith’s minions was not an option as far as Buffy was concerned. The sooner she could reduce Sunnydale’s vampire population back to a manageable level, the better it would be for everyone. But they were all well aware that Joyce’s death had been a direct result of an action very similar to her rampage of the night before.

Attacking Faith and her followers was inviting attack.

But that did not mean that Buffy was not going to do it anyway.

They would just have to take extra precautions. None of them would go anywhere alone anymore, even in daylight. As Xander well knew, not all of Faith’s supporters were vampires, and the false sense of security that could be found in the daylight was just that – false. There was no reason why Faith could not snatch one of Buffy’s friends in broad daylight if she wanted.

Dawn was not even going to attend school for a while, until Faith had been defeated. It was unspoken, but they all knew that if Faith wanted to get to Buffy, her best option was to go after Dawn. They decided that from that point on, the girl was always to be with at least one of them, never alone.

Some of the measures they were taking may have seemed extreme to someone who had not seen the things they had seen – had not lived on the Hellmouth for so many years. But Buffy knew that the threat was very real, and very serious. And she was not going to back down until she had stopped Faith once and for all, and put an end to her reign of terror.

The Slayer was going to war.


“Okay, this is getting freakin’ annoying!” Faith snarled, standing up suddenly from the chair she had been sitting in, causing the battered, disheveled minion standing before her to stumble backwards a few steps in fear.

He had had the bad luck to be the only survivor of the other Slayer’s attack in the convenience store, therefore having the unpleasant responsibility of relating the story to Faith. Two more of her groups had not come back on time, either, and based on this minion’s recounting of what had happened, she was fairly certain that she should not expect them to return at all.

She was obviously becoming angered by his story, and he didn’t want to be any closer to her than necessary at the moment, just in case she decided she needed someone to vent her anger on. “I – I’m sorry,” he stammered. “She came out of nowhere! She was so – so fast! There was nothing any of us could have done…”

He took another step backwards as she advanced on him, smiling cruelly. The Slayer had caught the scent of fear, and decided to play it for what it was worth. “Nothing you could have done,” she repeated in an overly patient, patronizing voice, as she continued forward, backing him into the wall. “Nothing at all?”

Not sure what she was getting at, terrified as his back hit the wall and he realized he had nowhere to go, the vampire shook his head and whimpered, “N-no! She was just – just everywhere at once! She killed everyone! We couldn’t do anything about it.”

Faith nodded sympathetically, her eyes wide and solemn, her pouting lips turned downward in a serious frown. “Of course not,” she agreed. “Except…there must have been *something* you could do…because…” She shrugged carelessly, and her eyes hardened in accusation, “…obviously you did it.” She paused and then clarified, as the frightened creature did not seem to be understanding what she was getting at.

“You’re *here*, stupid,” she snapped. “Now what I’m wondering…is why *you’re* here…and the rest of your team is a pile of dust at the Seven-Eleven.” Her smile was falsely pleasant, her eyebrows raised expectantly.

“I – I got away,” he began weakly to explain.

“You *ran* away,” she corrected him immediately. She took a step back and raised both hands in front of her in a questioning gesture as she went on, “And who’s to say that just one more in the fight might have been what it would have taken to take. Her. Down.” Her voice became hard and angry as she moved in slowly again until she was right in his face.

Her meaning was clear to him now, and he stammered out, “I – I’m sorry, I…if I’m dead, I can’t exactly be of any help…”

“Shut up,” she ordered, taking out her stake as she continued, “If all you do when a big fight comes is turn and run away…I don’t think I need that kind of help.” And without another word, she plunged the stake into the heart of the unfortunate minion, smiling in satisfaction as he disappeared in a cloud of dust that slowly settled to the floor at her feet.

“Really think you can afford to be doing that, love?”

She turned to see Spike, standing in the doorway watching her with a smirk. She glanced back at where the minion had been and shrugged, “No loss. I need vamps who wanna *fight* Buffy, not run away and hide when they see her coming.”

His smile widened as he approached her, a suggestive gleam in his blue eyes. “Then I guess that means you need *me*, eh, pet?”

She sneered at his words, but he could see the softening of her expression as he drew nearer to her. “I don’t need anyone, honey,” she informed him as she turned her back.

But not before he had seen that instant of vulnerability in her eyes. Faith was hardened and cruel and did her best to make sure that everyone around her knew it. But that didn’t mean that she didn’t have feelings.

He knew, better at this moment than at most, that she didn’t trust him, didn’t have any deep feelings for him. But every now and then, like now, he could see it in her eyes, when he would tease or flirt with her or feign affection as he had just done – that light of pleasure and warmth and maybe even the slightest bit of affection in return. He relished it when he saw it…

…Just waiting for the day when he would take advantage of that weakness he had planted and extinguish that and any other light from her eyes forever.

“Of course you don’t,” he said lightly, throwing himself down on her large, comfortable bed, his hands folded behind his head as he gave her a lascivious look. “As to what you *want* on the other hand, love…”

“Shut up,” she muttered, but she was smiling as she sat down on the edge of the bed. “We need to figure out what we’re gonna do about Buffy.” Her eyes were suddenly serious as she gave him an expectant look.

“It’s gonna take a bit of thought, love,” he pointed out warningly. “I’ve tried twice to kill her and failed. The little chit’s a tough one, she is.”

“Not tough enough,” Faith shot back with a smirk. “See, I think the problem is…” she began, giving him a slightly mocking look. “…she’s a vampire *slayer*. *She’s* built to take *you* out, Baby. Sorry, but it’s true,” she shrugged when he raised his eyebrows as if taking offense to her words. She looked away from him and smiled. “Maybe it takes something more than a former vampire master to kill a Slayer.”

“Bloody well does not!” he muttered defensively, sitting up a little and glaring at her. “I mean,” he corrected suddenly, suddenly realizing exactly what she had said, “*Former* master my arse! I’ve killed two Slayers in my time, love, I’ll remind you.” He paused, leaning back again, calming down a bit as his smirk fell back into place. “And I’ve every intention of adding a third to that list.” *One way or another…*

“Have you now?” she said, her voice suddenly becoming low and suggestive as she turned toward him, meeting his eyes invitingly.

*Oh, bloody hell.* He was so not in the mood to pretend to enjoy being with Faith right now. As she approached him in what might have been a seductive way to someone who did not despise her with every fiber of his being, coming across the bed on her hands and knees until she was over top of him, he tried to think of a way out, as she trailed her hands up his arms until she was holding his hands in hers, leaning down to kiss him.

He indulged the kiss, but then pulled back a little sooner than she wanted him to. “Come on, now, love,” he reminded her, smiling up at her apologetically as if he was every bit as disappointed as he thought she would be, as he began to pull his hands free of hers. “We’ve got a Slayer problem to figure out, don’t we? Plenty of time for this later, yeah?”

Her eyes narrowed in irritation at his rejection, and her hands suddenly gripped his wrists and pushed them back down hard onto the bed, pinning him. “Plenty of time for this whenever I want,” she corrected, a challenge in her dark, flashing eyes.

God, this was getting harder all the time.

“Right, love,” he agreed with an easy smile. “We’ll just think about Buffy tomorrow. After she’s killed another thirty minions or so.”

He held his breath for a moment, knowing that this was the point in the conversation where things could either work as he had planned or take a very dangerous turn. Faith’s smile faded into a pout, and she reluctantly released him and raised herself up off of him, turning around to sit down on the edge of the bed again.

“You can be a real buzz-kill, you know that?” she informed him.

“Yeah,” he replied dryly, his tone showing none of his tremendous relief. “So’s *dying*, love.”

She looked at him, surprised. “So she’s killed a few minions. Doesn’t mean she can take *me* on,” she retorted, sounding just a bit defensive.

He shook his head a little as he replied in a grim tone, “Slayer’s running on pure rage, pet. She just found out her mum’s dead, and she’s out for blood. Apparently her little groupies must have told her *I* did it…which means she’s out for *my* blood…and yours!”

Faith shrugged, feigning indifference as she looked away. But she knew that there was truth to his unwelcome words. She couldn’t remember the last time she had slain thirty vampires in a single night.

“She’s gonna be that much harder to beat as long as she’s after vengeance, love,” Spike went on. He paused, studying his fingernails casually, not looking at her as he added cautiously, “Maybe we should just give it to her.”

“What?” Faith frowned, not quite following him.

“I arrange to ‘run into’ the Slayer again,” he suggested, meeting her gaze. “I tell her the identity of the vamp that did it…she slays him…” He smiled wickedly and went on in a tone of evil satisfaction, “…and then she falls apart.”

“Huh?” Faith was still confused.

“Right now, revenge is her reason for living, love. It’s what’s keeping her going,” he explained with a cold smile. “Once she gets it – she’ll lose the will to fight like she’s fighting now – and she’ll have to face the truth.” His lips turned downward in a look of mock sympathy, his ice blue eyes sparkling with cruel laughter. “Her dear old mum is really gone!” he said with false sorrow.

The smile returned as he added coolly, “She’ll be a lot easier to kill on her knees sobbing than on her feet fighting.”

A slow smile came across Faith’s lips as she stared at him, amazement in her dark eyes. “Wow,” he remarked. “That is the most twisted, demented way of thinking I’ve ever seen.”

He just smiled, pleased with himself.

“I love it,” she added with a laugh. Then her smile slowly faded as she looked at him with regret. “Too bad I dusted him already,” she sighed, standing up and turning away from him so that he couldn’t see her face. “Would’ve been a great plan.”

Faith was cruel, and devious, and could commit acts of torture and murder without blinking, for nothing more than her own personal pleasure.

But she was a terrible liar.

She was far too expressive for her own good, and Spike immediately knew that she was lying. Joyce Summers’ murderer was still alive, and she was keeping the truth from him for some reason, though he could not figure for the life of him how that might benefit her.

“Who was it?” he pressed, keeping his voice casual and looking away as he spoke. His piercing eyes came to rest on her again as he went on, “Anyone I knew?”

She turned her head suddenly to look at him, and he could see the familiar suspicions in her eyes, setting off a warning in his head to back off, *now*, while backing off was still an option. “I don’t think so,” she replied. “Why does it matter?”

He shrugged indifferently. “Doesn’t,” he replied. “Just asking. You’re a bit touchy, lately, pet,” he commented, after a moment’s hesitation. “Something I should know?”

She smiled, but her eyes were cold. “You know all you need to,” she replied pointedly. He was wise enough to know that he was not going to get any more out of her right now, and to press any farther would be foolishly dangerous.

“Well,” he said, drawing a deep breath as he changed the subject. “I guess that idea’s out, then. What *are* we gonna do about Buffy?”

Faith’s smile returned in an instant as she turned to face him. “I think it’s time I welcomed Little Miss Sunshine back home to Sunnydale, don’t you?”

Spike just smiled, waiting for her to go on.

“I’m going to pay Buffy a little visit tomorrow night. Wanna come?” she invited with a wicked smile.

He met her gaze with his own patented smirk and replied in a low, dangerous voice of anticipation, “Wouldn’t miss it for the world.”