-1-

Buffy went back to Faith's place with her and helped her pack up her stuff, and she moved in with her and Willow that very afternoon. They went out on a patrol together that night, the first time they'd worked together in seven years, and even though they only ran across a couple of pushover vamps, both thought it felt wonderful... and comfortable... and right.

Faith quickly made it her highest-priority mission to help Buffy put back her missing weight. As it turned out, she was a very good cook, something Buffy and Willow never would've guessed at, and she made breakfast and dinner for the three of them every day. They'd usually go to a restaurant for lunch, as well as the occasional dinner.

Within two weeks, thanks to Faith's great cooking and her enormous helpings, Buffy's ribs were nowhere to be seen. Her face filled out, and her eyes no longer had that sunken look. She was looking more like a woman in her mid-to-late-twenties now, as opposed to one tottering on the edge of forty. Afternoons spent outdoors in the LA sun, doing various things with Faith--and sometimes Willow, too--helped take that pale, sallow hue from her skin and put her back on a path to being that perfectly-tanned California blonde that Faith had first met.

Speaking of which, before long Buffy had re-colored her hair. Though Faith hadn't said anything, Buffy could tell she missed the old blonde-haired B. In truth, Buffy had missed it, as well. She preferred herself blonde, just in general, but she really preferred it when she saw herself with Faith. The contrast between the two of them, light on dark, was just something she found incredibly sexy.

Buffy took Faith's picture of Dawn to a photo place and had two eight-by-ten copies made of it--they were even able to digitally edit out the crease in the center where Faith had folded it, producing a perfect image. The first copy was for herself; the second was framed and presented to Faith as a two-week anniversary gift.

For the most part, things were going very well between them. There had only been a couple of problems so far.

The first came about a week after they'd gotten back together. Buffy woke up in the middle of the night to find Faith packing her things. They'd had a near-repeat of that first night's argument--Faith telling Buffy she'd be better off without her, Buffy telling Faith she loved her and needed her, Faith yelling at Buffy that love was just a load of bullshit, just a meaningless word that only got in the way. Buffy ended up having to practically tackle Faith to keep her from leaving, carried her struggling form back to bed, and made love to her until the sun came up. After that, Buffy became a light sleeper, always on the lookout for a possible attempted-bolt by Faith.

The second problem was an ongoing one, and it was one only Faith knew about. Simply put, she was finding it more and more difficult to fake it without Buffy knowing. She hadn't been able to coax much more than a major shiver out of herself, no matter what kinds of wild, incredible things B did to her, and she repeatedly found herself trying to turn molehills into mountains, as it were. She knew that her acting sucked, but she'd never concerned herself with sparing other people's feelings before--if they got her off, great; if not, the hell with them and their precious egos. But she cared about what B thought--both about Faith, and about herself--and Faith badly wanted to return to those teeth-shaking skeleton-liquefiers from the old days. Not because they felt so immensely majestic--which they did--but to avoid B figuring it out on her own, and the hurt feelings that would surely follow.

She was going to have to do something about this soon. She could keep hoping things would magically fix themselves, but how likely was that? It had been almost a month now, with no change. No, she was going to have to tell B the truth. Better to hear it that way than to realize it on her own one of these nights.

-2-

The curtains were open and late-morning sunlight streamed through the large windows and onto the bed, where the two slayers were lounging. They'd gotten into the habit of sleeping late, and most mornings didn't get up until after ten (which meant that Willow, who always woke up bright and early, no longer had breakfast with them).

Buffy lay with her head on Faith's chest, her still short but now blonde hair fanned out across the other slayer's skin. One hand was under Faith, wrapped around her back, while the other traced lazy patterns on the brunette's stomach.

"You remember the first night we were... together?" Buffy asked, breaking the silence that had stretched out since they'd said good morning, ages ago.

Faith chuckled. "Bet your ass. Not the kinda thing a girl forgets."

Buffy grinned. Her face was turned away from Faith, but the younger slayer could feel the muscles in B's cheek, resting against her stomach, pull up, and knew what the expression on her face was. "Remember, you were so anxious that you ripped my shirt and bra practically to shreds, and I had to wear some of your clothes home?"

"Yeah, but you looked damn hot in 'em," she pointed out, and began twirling a lock of Buffy's hair around her finger. "And I didn't rip yours to shreds. In half, maybe, but not to shreds."

"I got home, and then couldn't sleep all night. All I could think about was you. I just wanted to run back to your room and do all of it all over again." Buffy thought for a minute, then laughed softly, with a touch of embarrassment. "I never told you this, but I slept with your shirt on my pillow that night so I could lean over and smell you whenever I wanted. When I saw you again the next night in the Bronze, I felt like I could barely keep myself from tearing your clothes off, every stitch, right there in front of everyone."

Faith smirked. Buffy couldn't see it, but she could hear it in the other slayer's voice. "You didn't make it much longer than that. I came over to your table and picked you up for a patrol, and we got as far as the alley out back before you just had to stop to eat me out right there."

Buffy wasn't put off by the less-than-poetic phrasing. That was just Faith; rough around the edges. Actually, that was one of the many things Buffy loved about her, that she was so different from Buffy herself. It seemed they fit together so well, the differences in the other filling up those missing areas in each one of them. The yin-yang symbol almost seemed to have been invented with Buffy and Faith in mind.

Faith remembered what had happened on that patrol, after they'd finally managed to pull their pants back up and their shirts back down and catch up with Giles. "That was the night Gwendolyn Post showed up," she said softly. "That was where things started going wrong, wasn't it? It happened that early."

"What do you mean?" Buffy turned her head to look at Faith.

"The things she said about you, trying to... I don't know, turn me against you or somethin'. And then when I found out Angel was back... I guess saying I was wicked jealous would be the understatement of the friggin' decade. Jealous and threatened. I'd just got you, and then here comes the love of your life to take you back again."

"I'm sorry," Buffy told her, and placed a tender kiss on the soft skin of Faith's stomach. She played through those events again, seeing them now from Faith's point of view, and couldn't believe she hadn't realized how hurt the girl must've been over the Angel revelations. God, was she thick-headed or what! "I wish we could just go back and do it all over again, and get it all right this time. I can't believe all the time we've lost."

"It's okay," Faith reassured her. "We're here now, right? 'Sides, it hasn't all been bad over the last few years. There were some highlights." She regretted this almost as soon as the words had left her mouth. Nice going, moron--remind her that you were screwing her dead sister.

Buffy didn't respond to this. She turned her head back the other way, toward Faith's feet, and resumed using her finger to draw random shapes around her bellybutton. As the silence stretched out, Faith grew more and more angry with herself. You fucking idiot! she silently raged--if she could've given her own brain a good hard slap across the occipital, she would've done so in a second.

"Did you love her?" Buffy asked some time later.

Faith was silent so long that Buffy had begun to believe she wasn't going to answer. She was about to say something else, change the subject, when Faith replied, "Yeah, B. Yeah, I did. I loved her." Buffy sat up and looked at her, and saw the wetness forming in the corners of Faith's eyes.

"Good," Buffy said decisively, and crawled up and kissed a very stunned-looking brunette slayer on the lips. When she pulled away, the look hadn't changed, so Buffy explained. "You think I should be wigged because you and she were... well, you know." She blushed. "Well, yeah, I am, kinda. But even though you haven't told me any of it, I have an idea that the last few years haven't been easy for you, and weren't for her, either. Whatever happened between you, I'm glad you had each other, even if it was just for a little while."

"I wanna tell you, but it's just--"

Buffy interrupted her with a finger to her lips, something D had also been fond of doing. "It's okay, Faith. When you're ready." She leaned down again and kissed the younger slayer on the forehead so softly that if Faith's eyes had been closed, she might've believed it had just been her imagination.

"So, whaddaya think?" she asked, sitting back on her heels. "Should we get up, or stay in bed 'til noon?"

"Mmm, that's a tempting plan, but that would get you out of having to eat breakfast, which ain't gonna happen," Faith told her sternly. "You're eating breakfast and lunch, and that's final."

"Fine... Mom," Buffy grumbled. Faith shoved her playfully, and B flopped over onto her back, making them both laugh out loud.

-3-

"Faith, these are the girls."

After over a month away from it, it was time for Buffy to get back to training her current group of slayers. To help take some of the burden off of her after Dawn's death, Angel, Spike, Andrew, and Emily, Buffy's most advanced student, had taken over the lessons. Also helping out were an older, very quiet and reserved slayer named Megan, and her odd-but-incredibly-sweet boyfriend. Buffy had explained that though these last two weren't on the full-time W&H payroll, they lived in LA and helped Angel out often.

All six fill-in teachers worked with them on combat skills, both hand-to-hand and weapons-training, and Angel, Spike, and Andrew also imparted as much of their extensive knowledge of vamps, demons, magick, and all other things mystical as they could.

But the girls were Buffy's responsibility, and she knew she'd have to get back to them at some point.

It wasn't just the lingering grief over Dawn, or wanting to spend time with her old-now-new-again lover that was seriously eating into Buffy's eagerness to get back to her students. She was still upset over what had happened a few months ago, and nervous that it could happen again.

One of her former trainees, Lisa, had returned for vengeance over what she felt had been a betrayal by the older slayer years before. At the time, Buffy had been as patient with her as she could be and put up with her as long as possible, but she had finally become such a disruptive influence that Buffy had been forced to send her home. Apparently she had never gotten over this, and had shown up one night looking for payback. Buffy, her then-boyfriend Jake, Willow, and the other young slayers had done everything possible to take her alive, but she'd seemed determined to go down fighting, and so she had.

Buffy naturally hadn't told Faith about any of this--it was too eerily similar to what had happened to the other slayer back in Sunnydale eleven years ago, and Buffy didn't want to bring those memories up if she didn't have to.

She was worried about herself, and her ability to still be a good teacher. What if another one of her students turned to the darkness? Andrew would no doubt have a Darth Vader/Obi-Wan reference for the situation, which was only one of the reasons she hadn't mentioned it to him.

"This is Emily," Buffy continued the introductions, pointing to each girl in turn, "Monique, Selina, Darby, and Rachel. Girls, this is Faith." All five appeared to be between sixteen and eighteen years old; the effect of Willow's spell seven years ago had been to not only activate every potential slayer of the appropriate age back then, but to cause every future potential to be called when they reached the age of fifteen or sixteen.

"So she's... what? Like, another slayer?" one of them--Monique--inquired.

"You mean you've never heard of me?" Faith asked incredulously. She glanced over at Buffy. "I'm not even sure whether I should be relieved or offended."

"Well, you and I aren't as unique as we used to be," Buffy replied with just a hint of a smirk. "Not as much reason to tell all the old Faith stories now."

The building they were in was Wolfram & Hart's training center, where all the firm's teams of field operatives honed their skills. One room of the giant structure had a sparring area set up, complete with mats and pads and other necessities. Another chamber was devoted to working with weapons, and included an entire wall lined with seemingly every type of sword, axe, knife, and bow ever invented, along with many other types of miscellaneous implements designed for maiming and killing; a 'firing range' adjoined this room, to work on throwing and shooting the weapons. Taking up the rest of the space in this end of the building were offices, conference rooms, and mens' and womens' locker rooms.

The majority of the structure, however, had been turned into a nearly-perfect replica of a three-block cross section of Los Angeles city streets and buildings--the bad part of town, of course, since that's where the vamps tended to hang out. This part of the building had been sealed up tight, with no possible way in or out other than the main door the operatives (and in this case, slayers) and their instructors used. At various concealed locations in this training ground were trapdoors where captured vampires and demons could be released into what had long ago been dubbed 'the maze.'

Buffy and Faith were seeing it for the first time, and were blown away. It made for the perfect controlled training environment; Buffy couldn't have asked for anything better. They'd only been planning on staying in LA for a month or two after the funeral, and that time was almost up. At that moment, she decided she'd need to talk to Willow and Faith about the possibility of extending their stay for awhile. This place was too good to give up that quickly.

"Okay, everyone ready?" Emily asked the others. Nods and murmurs of assent. "Alright, then let's show these two what we've got!" she encouraged. Faith was immediately glad she wasn't one of this girl's students; that perky enthusiasm probably would've driven her completely bugshit within two days.

Emily opened the large, heavy steel door that was embedded in the thick concrete wall that sealed off 'the maze,' and motioned for the other four student slayers to enter. When all five of them were through, she slammed the door closed behind her, leaving the two older slayers standing outside. Buffy hit the button that engaged the high-tech locking system.

"Come on," Angel said, stepping out from where he'd been lurking in the background. "I'll show you to the control room."

"You have a control room?" Faith asked, impressed. "Sweet."

He led them to an alcove at the far end of the long concrete wall. A set of steep, narrow stairs led upward, and they began to climb, ending up in a booth thirty feet above ground level. It was made of concrete, as well, and had a large, thick plexiglass window that looked out over the re-created LA street scene below them. A console below this window was filled with a bank of monitors, which were hooked up to hidden cameras scattered all throughout the area, showing locations that weren't visible from where they stood.

"Wow," Buffy said softly.

They watched the five slayers below them slowly fan out, heading off in different directions, down different streets and alleys. They were alert, looking around in every direction, stakes held firmly in hand.

"Alright, here we go," Angel said, and reached toward a row of ten red buttons. He pushed four of them at random, and then explained that each button opened a trapdoor down there and released a captive vampire. They had underground access to each of these doors, and his staff could hustle a new vamp into each holding cage while the exercise was going on, theoretically extending things indefinitely, unleashing vampire after vampire after vampire.

They looked down through the window and saw Darby, still in sight, preparing to take on the vamp that was now rushing toward her. On the monitors, Emily, Monique, and Rachel were also under attack.

Each slayer made quick work of her opponent, and just like that it was on to round two. Angel pushed seven buttons this time, and within moments all five slayers were engaged, including Selina and Emily, who were fighting two at once. Again they handled things with no problems.

"They're pretty good," Faith praised Buffy.

"Yeah," Buffy agreed quietly, not wanting to admit to the other woman that these five--maybe with the exception of Emily--owed their skill more to Angel, Spike, and Andrew than they did to her.

Angel had to wait a few moments for more vampires to be loaded into the holding cages, but when they were all full once again, a series of lights went on to signal this, and he pushed all ten buttons, letting out the maximum number of opponents.

Monique found herself under attack by two, and dusted both quickly. Selina and Darby only faced one each, and both had an easy time of it. Emily and Rachel each got three.

Emily--who Faith had to admit was pretty damn good, even if she probably was intensely annoying to be around--polished off hers easily. Rachel was having a little harder time of it.

She dusted the first one quickly enough, but the remaining two had boxed her into a corner, and were smart enough to keep a distance between them, making it impossible for her to engage one without turning her back on the other.

"She's in trouble," Faith said.

"Yeah, she is," Angel agreed, equally concerned. Buffy continued to watch in silence.

Rachel was growing more and more upset and nervous as the seconds passed. Apparently deciding she wanted to get herself out of this position as quickly as possible, she broke and ran at one of the vamps. An exchange of blows followed, and an instant later she had him pinned to the ground. She raised her stake, then plunged it into his heart. He disintegrated.

While she'd been busy with her opponent, however, the other vampire--a female--had gotten behind her. Almost before the dust from the first vamp had settled, she had her arms around Rachel's chest, pulling her up and dragging her backwards. She grinned, bared her fangs, and buried them deep in the slayer's neck.

"Dammit!" Angel yelled, and dashed for the stairs. Faith and Buffy were right behind. They would never make it in time. Not even close.

Luckily for the young slayer, Emily had finished with hers, and gotten to the scene just as the vamp bit down into Rachel. She grabbed the creature and pulled it away; Rachel reached a hand up to her bloody neck, seemingly in a daze, and sank to the ground.

Emily blocked a punch, ducked a jumping spin-kick, and got her stake past the vamp's guard, causing her to poof.

"What the hell was that, Rach?" she screamed, hauling the younger girl to her feet. "You just came within about ten seconds of being cold meat on a slab! What were you thinking? You never--never--" Emily shook the wounded slayer for added emphasis, "--turn your back on an opponent like that! Understand?"

"Y-Yes," Rachel replied weakly.

Angel, Buffy, and Faith arrived in time to hear the end of this chewing-out. Now that Emily had had her say, they all looked to Buffy, waiting for her to tear into the girl, as she'd done to so many others over the years. Every slayer who'd ever trained with her had come to dread the 'Wrath of Buffy' that always resulted from stupid or careless mistakes.

"Rachel, just... don't let it happen again," she said, so softly that Darby, who was standing the farthest away from her, couldn't even make out what she had said. Buffy turned and walked toward the exit, not looking back.

They were all surprised, even Angel and Faith, who had the least experience with Buffy, the Drill Instructor From Hell. Emily, who had the most such experience, stood there with her mouth literally hanging open. What the hell had just happened?

-4-

Buffy and Faith were crossing the empty parking lot outside the complex after yet another training session. This was the fifth straight night since Buffy--with Faith assisting--had gone back to work, and things were going downhill fast.

Yes, Rachel had made a mistake on that first night and nearly gotten herself killed, but generally speaking the girls had been an impressive group. Well-trained, well-motivated, confident and capable.

Within just five days, however, that well-drilled group of slayers had degenerated into a collection of girls that at times looked like they barely knew which end of a stake was the dangerous one. Selina was now sporting a broken arm, Darby had nearly been bitten a couple of nights ago, and even Emily looked less confident and effective.

They hadn't said anything, even to each other, but both Angel and Faith knew what the problem was: Buffy. Whereas before the girls had been taking their cue from Angel and Spike, adopting their positive take-no-shit-and-kick-some-ass attitudes, now that Buffy was back they'd started to take after her, and she was setting a less-than-great example. She seemed distracted, disinterested, and nervous.

They were about halfway from the building to the car when Faith stopped and turned to the older slayer. "What the hell are you doing here, B?"

"Huh? What are you talking about?"

"Here; this," Faith explained, gesturing back toward the training center. "Why are you still doing this shit? Training them?"

"Because they need me," Buffy replied, with a mix of confusion and 'shouldn't that be obvious?'

"Yeah. Right." Faith looked away and laughed without a trace of humor. "Yeah, you're doing a bang-up job in there."

"What the hell is that supposed to mean?" Buffy asked, stepping toward Faith with her anger appearing instantly, as though an interior switch had been flicked.

"It means that you couldn't give a single, solitary shit about this crap. Anyone can see it. You'd rather be just about anywhere else, doing just about anything else, than training these girls. And since you apparently haven't noticed yet, they're picking up on that. You keep this up, I guarantee you you're going to get one of them killed within a week."

"How dare you?" Buffy challenged, stepping even closer. "You don't know a thing about how I handle my business. I've trained dozens of slayers over the last seven years, and I haven't had one die yet because of something I've done during training, okay?" But then she remembered Lisa, and supposed that that wasn't completely true. Her cheeks flushed and she suddenly couldn't meet Faith's eyes.

"Oh, really?" the other slayer mocked, sounding uncomfortably similar to the Faith who'd once worked for Mayor Wilkins. "You don't look too sure about that, B."

"Fuck you--F!" Buffy spat, and turned and marched off toward the car. She got in, slammed the door, and drove away, leaving Faith standing there alone in the now-deserted lot.

-5-

Faith turned the key in the lock and cautiously opened the door.

She'd spent the last two nights staying in Angel's guestroom. He'd been concerned when she had shown up on his doorstep, but hadn't asked questions, which she appreciated; she wasn't in the mood for explanations.

But she'd known she would have to go back eventually, so here she was. She was willing to apologize and try to put it all behind them, but she had no idea what B would be thinking. Would she feel the same way, or would she just throw Faith out on her ass and tell her to stay the hell away from her?

As Faith opened the front door of the apartment, she had her answer: six suitcases sat in a row at the spot where the foyer became the living room.

Ha! Look at that, you stupid bitch! the small, cynical voice in her head shouted triumphantly. She's tossing you out! Just another round of 'Thanks for the fucking, Faith, now get the hell out.' You still love her, don't you? You stupid, trusting loser. Haven't you figured out yet what happens when you start to count on people? They hurt you, then laugh at you behind your back. You thought maybe you were actually going to have that fairytale ending with B that you always wanted? What a joke! What makes you think you deserve something like that? What makes you think you deserve anything good, ever?

Faith started toward the luggage, wanting nothing more than to get her stuff and get out of here as fast as possible. She felt tears approaching, and wanted to be as far away from this place as she could get before they started falling.

No! she told it. I'm not going to cry. Not here, anyway. So just shut up! And, surprisingly enough, it did.

At least B had put all her stuff in these suitcases. She could've just dumped it all in a huge pile in the middle of the floor. Or out in front of the apartment door, for that matter.

Faith was a little surprised to see that there were six suitcases; she hadn't thought she'd acquired anywhere near that much stuff in the last few weeks.

"Faith." Buffy's voice, coming from behind her. Faith turned around and saw her stepping out of the downstairs bathroom. She was wearing a simple sky-blue summer dress and a sexy, knowing smile. Faith was instantly confused.

"Don't worry, B; I'll be outta here in two seconds," she told her, picking up three of the bags.

"Well, I hope so," B purred, walking toward her seductively. "Our flight boards in an hour."

"'Our flight?'" Faith repeated, more confused than ever.

"Mmm-hmm," B confirmed, stepping close to her, wrapping her arms around the taller slayer and burying her face in the right side of Faith's neck. "Glad you made it in time. I just called Angel to tell him to send you over here, but he said you were already on your way."

"I don't get it. You're not throwing me out?" Faith cautiously set the bags back down.

"What do you think?" Buffy asked, moving over to nuzzle the other side of Faith's neck.

"Mostly, I'm thinking I missed something important here, 'cause this is making, like, zero sense." Without even realizing she was doing it, Faith's hands came up and gently clasped Buffy's back, pulling her further forward, bringing their bodies more tightly together.

"You were right. What you said the other night? You were right about it," Buffy admitted quietly. "And you know what I finally realized? I don't have to do it anymore. When I started, there was just me, so who else was going to? But now... Giles is the head of the new Watchers Council, and they have hundreds of watchers all around the world working with new slayers. And there's all the ones I've trained over the years, and some of them are teaching now, too, traveling around just like I've been doing and collecting a half-dozen at a time. The job is in good hands.

"So guess what?" she asked perkily, pulling back to look Faith in the eye. "You're looking at a retired slayer--well, retired from teaching, anyway," she amended. "I've found exactly what I want to spend all my time on, instead." She leaned up and kissed Faith on the lips. "Can you guess what that is?"

"Are you sure? I don't want you giving all that up just for me. I'm not worth it."

"Yes, you are, Faith," Buffy told her firmly. "But that's not the whole reason, or even most of the reason. I'm just tired of it," she sighed, leaning her head against Faith's chest; Faith brought her chin down and rested it against the top of B's head. "I've been doing this almost non-stop for over seven years now, and I'm tired of it. I've lost my sister, I lost the woman I love and nearly didn't get her back again, I've nearly driven Willow away two or three times...

"I don't know if I'll never go back to it, because I did enjoy it at times. But I need a break from it. A long break. So does Willow; she deserves one. She and I have been fighting evil together for over thirteen years, and we both could use some serious time away from it. She deserves the chance to have a normal life--for awhile, at least. She should have the chance to find a woman as wonderful as the one I've got." She hugged Faith tighter.

Faith couldn't think of anything to say.

Well, not to B, anyway.

Ha-HA! Kiss my ass, you little bitch-punk! she screamed, and took her foot off that annoying voice in her head long enough to kick it in the teeth, then went right back to stomping on it. Let's see you laugh at me now!

"And do you know what tonight is?" Buffy continued.

"Umm... no," Faith conceded.

"Our anniversary."

Faith counted backward in her head. "Our seven-week-and-... three-day anniversary? Since when do they celebrate that?"

"No, Faith." She kissed the spot on Faith's chest just below the hollow at the base of her neck, then leaned up again and kissed her on the lips once more. "Our twelve-year anniversary. November sixteenth, 1998--the night we first slept together."

"I don't remember a whole lotta sleepin' that night, B," Faith teased reflexively, but she realized Buffy was right. Wow, twelve years. Didn't seem that long. But at the same time, it seemed even longer; it was a lifetime ago. Several, in fact.

"Well, maybe not. But whatever you want to call it, that's one of the things we're celebrating with this trip. Speaking of: we'd better get going." She pulled out of Faith's grasp. "We'll miss our plane. Don't worry; I already packed everything you'll need."

"Where are we going?" Faith asked, picking up three of the suitcases.

"You'll see," Buffy replied mischievously, picking up the other three, and on the subject of their destination, she would say no more.

-6-

The resort was the grandest in all of Cabo San Lucas.

They walked across the immense lobby and up to the main desk, looking around and gawking at their amazing surroundings the whole way. The architecture was all early-Spanish influence, with windows looking out onto the Pacific Ocean and a small waterfall against one wall that gave into a little brook cutting across the entire room. It bestowed a relaxed, leisurely atmosphere upon the place that even the many tourists hurrying to and fro couldn't spoil. As Buffy checked them in, Faith turned around and noticed once again the band playing in the lobby's center. They'd spotted them on the way in, and she thought they added nicely to the ambience of the scene.

They were in the middle of a soft, pretty instrumental with a vaguely Latin flavor to it. As she listened closer, Faith realized it was an acoustic variation of 'Hotel California.'

"'You can check out any time you like, but you can never leave,'" she muttered. "Story of my life."

"What?" B asked, turning around.

"Nothin'."

"We're all set." Buffy held up the room keycard. A bellhop stood nearby, ready to take their bags up.

"Let's go."

-7-

One of the many perks for having a good friend who just happened to run a massive law firm was that they were always able to go top-shelf in whatever it was they did. In this case, their connections had earned them the most luxurious suite in the entire hotel. It wasn't quite as big as the penthouse Buffy, Faith, and Willow shared back in LA, but it was huge nonetheless. Skylights graced nearly every room, including an enormous one in the bedroom, positioned directly over the equally-enormous bed.

Buffy immediately tried to pull Faith onto it, tugging at the other woman's top, but Faith demurred. She still needed to have that talk with B about her small 'problem,' and she wasn't going to start the trip with it. She wanted to get out and enjoy this a little first.

"C'mon, B, we've got all the time in the world for that. But we just got here, and it's already after one; let's get to the beach before the sun goes down."

Buffy frowned, a little confused. Was Faith still mad at her? It hadn't seemed like it, but now she wasn't sure. Why wouldn't she want to make love?

"Okay," Buffy replied in a slightly-puzzled tone. They began digging through their bags, looking for the things they'd need for an afternoon at the beach.

-8-

They held hands as they walked down toward the water, conscious of the stares they were getting. Faith had experienced this before, with D, but for Buffy it was something new altogether. But instead of being embarrassed about it, or self-conscious, she felt a surge of pride--this was her woman, and she wanted everyone to know it! She tightened her grip on Faith's hand and allowed her smile to grow as wide as it wanted.

It wasn't just the fact that they were two women holding hands that was the source of all the stares, because this wasn't a completely uncommon sight on Playa del Amor; it was the fact that they were the two most stunning women on the entire beach--and there was some steep competition for that honor--and they were holding hands. Every guy--and some of the girls--they passed found their heads filled with visions of these two naked, sweaty, and doing very naughty things with one another.

An added source of all the stares might've been the bikinis they had on, which were more wishful thinking than actual clothing. Even with the towels they had wrapped around their waists, they were quite the picture.

They found a not-too-crowded spot, laid out their towels, sat down, unpacked their stuff, and stretched out to enjoy the sun and watch the waves. When they took turns slowly rubbing suntan lotion on each other's backs, there wasn't a guy within a hundred yards who wasn't watching with rapt attention.

After a couple of hours had passed, they went down and did a little swimming, then came back and stretched out once again, letting the sun dry them. Buffy had forgotten all about her concerns that Faith might still be mad at her.

Eventually the sun was falling into the horizon, and it was time to go. They packed up, re-tied the towels around their waists, clasped hands, and headed back toward the hotel. Along the way they got more stares, as well as quite a few smiles and nods. They smiled back, slightly embarrassed at all the attention, and pulled each other closer--they wanted to make sure everyone knew that they were together (there were some thick-headed morons out there, after all), and each of them wanted to let all the others know to stay the hell away from her woman!

They went back up to their suite, showered and changed, then came down for an exquisite dinner in the hotel's five-star restaurant. Once they'd finished dessert, they asked around about the best nearby club, and were directed to what they were promised was the best one in Cabo.

-9-

Faith was having fun, but at the same time she was reminded uncomfortably of that night in Boston. She wasn't worried that she and B were going to end the night on the run from the authorities, but she found herself missing D more than she had in a long, long time. She remembered the stir the two of them had caused that night, particularly among the male patrons, and smiled, a little sadly. D had been so full of life that night--how could she be dead?

She and B hadn't caused quite that kind of scene here, but they'd certainly attracted quite an audience. Couples danced nearby, and the women were throwing angry looks at their male partners, who were much more intent on watching the two slayers than paying attention to who they were dancing with.

Faith was naturally put in mind of the only other time she and B had gone out dancing, that night in the Bronze just before she'd mistakenly killed Allan Finch. That had been hot, but this was so far beyond it that mere words couldn't truly do justice to the spectacle. The two of them pressed up against one another, backed away, pressed together again, backed away. Hands roamed everywhere: lips, cheeks, necks, shoulders, breasts, sides, backs, stomachs, asses, hips. Every few minutes they'd duck their heads forward and meet in an almost-savage kiss, and all other action on the dance floor would come to a virtual stop until they'd pulled apart again.

There wasn't a person in the place, even the jealous women, who didn't admit to themselves that these two were an amazing, beautiful sight together. Most everyone sensed--some consciously, most unconsciously--that these two were just meant to be together, now and always.

-10-

It had passed one in the morning before Buffy finally managed to drag Faith out of there and back to the hotel.

They were in the midst of an incredibly-passionate kiss in the elevator when the doors slid open and an elderly couple stepped inside. The slayers blushed until they turned purple, mumbled apologies, and waited until the pair had exited a couple of floors higher up. The doors had barely closed behind them before the kiss resumed.

Buffy practically knocked their door down as the two of them stumbled through it; she was topless even before it had entirely closed behind them. Faith grabbed her around the waist, picked her up and carried her toward the bedroom; Buffy squealed in delight and brought her legs up, wrapping them around the other slayer's ass. Faith's mouth attacked Buffy's breasts as she carried her along, then continued the assault after dropping her on the bed.

They somehow got the rest of their clothes off, though neither could've said exactly who was responsible for taking off what.

Through the fog of lust that had settled over her mind, fuzzing out a lot of her higher brain functions, Faith began to remember that there was something she had been meaning to do. What was it? It had seemed important, hadn't it?

Oh, yeah...

Oh, shit!

"Umm... B? I don't... There's something--" she mumbled around Buffy's thumb, which was currently lodged in Faith's mouth. B pulled it out after a second, replacing it with her index and middle fingers.

"It's okay, Faith," Buffy replied as she nipped at one of Faith's earlobes, not thinking all that clearly herself right then, not really registering that the other woman was trying to tell her something.

Oh, the hell with it, Faith decided. I can take care of her, at least, then we can talk.

Again Faith went slowly, bringing her up gradually, stretching it out as long as she could, then bringing her back to earth like the world's slowest, greatest, sexiest parachute.

"Wow," Buffy managed weakly, after what seemed like a month had passed.

"Thanks," Faith chuckled. "I try my best."

"Mmm," Buffy agreed. "So do I. And I guess that makes it my turn, huh?" She rolled onto her side and grinned at Faith, one hand coming up to softly knead one of the brunette's breasts, occasionally flicking the hardened nipple and generating a shudder each time.

"Uh, B...?" Faith started, then stopped herself. Something, some voice inside her, was telling her not to have this conversation now. That she should wait just a little longer. Faith didn't know why, but she decided she trusted this voice and this advice.

"Yes, Faith?" Buffy bent forward and kissed the skin of the younger slayer's side, several inches below her armpit.

"Nothing."

Buffy looked at her quizzically for a few seconds, but then this look rapidly changed to one of raw hunger and desire. She sat up and moved to position herself above Faith, forgetting momentarily that the other slayer never let her do this. Buffy had never asked why; it was just something Faith had had a thing about since they'd gotten back together.

But as she crawled into this position now, Faith didn't stop her. She nearly did, but then that voice in her head told her again to let it go, let B do this. Again, she trusted this voice, even though she wasn't quite sure why.

B slowly put her index and middle fingers in the other slayer's mouth once again, swirled them around, then trailed them downwards. Faith gasped/moaned when B's moist digits reached their destination, and B whimpered when she heard this, leaning down to capture Faith's mouth once more.

As B started up a rhythm, Faith felt her arousal growing, and with it, her own sense of amazement. B had just begun, and already Faith was feeling hotter than she'd been in... two years.

She looked up at B's face slowly rocking mere inches above her own. Her blonde hair hung around her face in a sweaty-but-incredibly-sexy curtain, the moonlight pouring through the skylight turning it into a silver-gold that Faith thought was the most beautiful color she'd ever seen.

B's emerald eyes bored into her chocolate ones, and for that one magical, perfect moment in time Faith was able to look deeper into B's soul than she had ever believed possible; she suddenly understood B like never before. She saw all her hopes and dreams, fears and nightmares. She saw her pride in her successes and her guilt over her failures--both in her slayer career and in her regular, everyday life. She saw the love she had for her friends, for her mother and her sister, and the incredible love she had for her fellow slayer and lover.

As the speed of Buffy's ministrations increased to an almost frantic pace, Faith felt something begin in the pit of her stomach, a sensation that was at once totally familiar but completely foreign. She'd had it before, too many times to count, but nothing this powerful. This was going to be even bigger than what B had produced back in the olden days; she just knew it. In the four seconds she had left before it hit, she did the only thing she could thing of: grabbed fistfuls of bedsheet in both hands and held on for dear life.

"Oh! Oh, holy shit, B, I'm... I'm..." Whatever she had been about to say was lost in the moan/scream that followed. It went on and on, containing all her love for B, and pouring out everything that had built up over the last two years. When she finally fell back on the bed, feeling like a horde of stampeding angels had just torn through her body, she didn't think she had ever been that totally and completely spent in her whole fucking life.

Buffy just stared at her in shock. Was that me? I did that? Wow. I mean, she's been intense before, but... wow. "Faith, that was..." She trailed off, unable to think of an adjective that could possibly capture what she had just seen and felt from her lover. She laid down next to her, put her hand on her stomach, and rested her head against Faith's oh-so-soft breast.

A few minutes passed, and the younger slayer slowly began to get strength and feeling back into her limbs. Suddenly, her eyes snapped wide open, and she jumped out of bed, pulling away from Buffy like she had some sort of horrible infectious disease. She stumbled and crawled into the corner, pulled her knees up to her chin, and buried her face in them, not looking at the woman who now sat on the bed watching her, totally dumfounded.

"Faith?" Buffy asked softly, cautiously. "Faith, what is it? What's wrong? Wasn't that... I mean, it seemed like it was... Did I do s-something?" Her voice started to crack, and silent tears formed at the corners of her eyes. She got up and slowly made her way over to the frightened-looking woman huddled in the corner. "Faith? What happened?" She gently touched the brunette's knee; Faith jerked away from the contact.

"I... I..." She wasn't crying, but she looked incredibly upset, almost panic-stricken.

"Faith?" Buffy wasn't sobbing, either, but tears were streaming down her cheeks.

"I came, B!" she exclaimed, peering up at Buffy with a haunted, scared look in her eyes. "I fucking came! I mean, I really did!" She buried her face in her knees again.

"Yeah... I noticed that." Buffy was completely lost now.

"But I haven't," Faith mumbled from behind her closed legs. "Not really; not anymore. Not like that. Not since... not since..."

"Since Dawn," Buffy finished in a whisper. She'd been crouching in front of Faith; now, her legs gave out on her and she sat down heavily on the floor.

Faith nodded, still not looking up.

"So that means, all those times... all those times with me... you weren't... you didn't...?" Buffy's hands came up to her face, and now the sobs did begin.

They sat that way for a time, Faith huddled in a silent lump, Buffy crying as she realized that she'd been disappointing her lover all this time.

They might've continued to sit that way until the sun came up. If they had, they likely never would've been able to put things back together again. They each would've silently packed their things, maybe mumbled an embarrassed goodbye or apology, gone off their separate ways, and been unhappy for the rest of their lives.

That didn't happen. Fortunately--for both of them--Buffy took a few seconds to think things over, and had what could only be described as an epiphany.

"Faith!" she cried, her sobs tapering off. She started wiping her tears away with both hands, gave up, and used them to clasp Faith's hands, instead. Faith jerked again and tried to pull away, but Buffy held her tight. "Faith, look at me!"

At first the other slayer refused, looking everywhere in the room but, then eventually gave in and locked gazes with her.

"You really haven't? Not since Dawn?"

Faith shook her head. "Not really," she sniffled. "Just pathetic little waves that would barely rock a rowboat. But nothing really... y'know... good. Nothing like that."

"Faith, don't you realize what this means? It means that whatever sort of... of mental block or whatever... that you had, you just got past it. I got you past it," she almost whispered, marveling at this.

"No, B, that's not what it means," Faith corrected. Her own cheeks were wet now, as well. "It means I'm over her. It means... It means I'm... I'm forgetting h-h-her!" She had thought she'd wanted nothing more than to get over this problem; now that she had, it hit her that this meant getting over D, as well. She hadn't even made the connection between the two things until just then.

"No chance!" Buffy told her forcefully. "You'll never forget her! Ever! And I don't want to take her place. But what it does mean is that you can remember what you had with her, but also move on and build something new... You know, with me, maybe."

Faith stared at her with such hope in her eyes, such mute need, such an obvious wanting to believe, that it broke Buffy's heart. She grabbed the brunette and pulled her into a hug so tight that it might've broken a couple of ribs on a normal human. "I love you, Faith," she told her over and over again.

"I... I... I love you, too, B."

Faith sat in stunned disbelief that she'd actually said this. And when she realized that B wasn't getting up, wasn't running to pack her stuff, wasn't rushing off to leave her--that she actually hugged Faith even tighter--she began to cry again, this time in relief. "I love you, B," she repeated.

"I love you, Faith."

They sat there, rocking and crying and hugging and telling each other they loved one another until the sun came up.

-11-

The two of them went back to bed, and Buffy proved--repeatedly--that Faith really had gotten over her mental block, and the floodgates truly had been thrown wide open... so to speak. At long last they took a break around noon, and ordered breakfast-slash-lunch.

As they ate, Faith discovered the courage she needed to tell B about the past. First her own, from Boston to Sunnydale and then back again, then D's, from Australia to Boston. It was only when she started telling the story of the two of them, beginning in Boston and ending just over three months later in Denver, that her voice began to crack.

She gave B the message Dawn had asked her to deliver, her apology for what had happened between the two sisters six years ago. She'd promised D once upon a time in a Houston motel room that she'd find Buffy and tell her this if anything ever happened to her. Faith apologized for not being able to deliver it sooner, but she just hadn't been able to find the words to talk about any of it until now. Buffy refused to accept the apology, saying she understood completely and that Faith had nothing to be sorry for.

When Faith had finished telling of that awful Christmas morning, she cried again, and B cried with her. "I'm so sorry, Faith. I'm so sorry," B repeated over and over.

By the time they'd finished telling their stories--Buffy shared many of her own from the recent past--the sun had gone down, and the two women lay back on the bed and made love until it rose once again the next morning.

They slept in all day long that next afternoon. It was the best, most peaceful sleep either could ever remember getting.

-12-

The slayers spent a total of two weeks in Cabo.

In the afternoons they went to the beach for swimming and sunbathing; they also went scuba-diving, para-sailing, windsurfing, and whale-watching; they spent a hilarious afternoon trying to play golf, and decided that the miniature variety was much more their speed. Faith even talked Buffy into going skydiving, something she'd always, always wanted to try. At night, they became an incredibly-popular fixture at the local clubs; in the two weeks they never once had to pay for a drink themselves. And somehow, in the middle of all that, they squeezed in nearly as much private time with one another as most honeymooners.

But now, sadly, it was time to leave.

They stood at the front desk; Buffy was checking them out and taking care of their bill, which would be sent to Wolfram & Hart. Faith looked toward the center of the lobby and saw the hotel band was once more set up on their little dais. Just like on the day the slayers had first arrived, they were in the middle of that soft instrumental version of 'Hotel California,' played with a vaguely Mexican air to it.

Her whole life, Faith had been defined by the people who'd hurt her growing up. Her junkie mother, who'd seemed to barely notice Faith existed most of the time. Her father, who liked to get drunk and beat her, until he disappeared shortly after her ninth birthday. The string of men Faith's mother brought home, who she'd offer her daughter to in return for some smack as soon as she'd realized how beautiful Faith was becoming, and that she now had the perfect way to score a fix whenever she needed without having to spend a dime.

Then she'd become the Slayer--well, a slayer, as it turned out--and she had thought that she could finally put all that behind her. She wasn't just mommy's little whore any longer; she was someone now, someone important. She was one of the good guys! She had left Boston, and hoped she'd left all those horrible memories there, as well.

But as it turned out, outrunning your past wasn't that simple; just because you said it was all behind you didn't make it so. Like the song said, you can check out any time you like, but you can never leave.

After a long stretch of rough times, however, she had begun to think she might be able to do just that. She'd found a greater happiness with D than she'd ever had in her life, and thought she had been very close to finally being rid of those old demons once and for all. She knew by then that the memories would always be there, but maybe she could find a way to break that hold they'd always had on her, always weighing her down, causing her to believe people existed solely to cause her pain.

Instead, the exact opposite had happened. D had left, and Faith became one-hundred percent certain that she could never trust anyone ever again. The entire human race was just six billion assholes who spent all day every day walking around and thinking up new ways to hurt her. 'Excuse me, ma'am, I'd like a room, please. For how long? Permanently. This chick's checkin' into this here Hotel of Pain and Distrust, and she's planning on staying.'

Buffy finished taking care of everything at the desk, thanked the clerk, and turned around. She took Faith's hand and they walked toward the exit.

Faith turned to look into B's smiling face, filled with such love, and realized something--she had her own epiphany, you might say. She suddenly knew beyond a shadow of a doubt that she'd left all those old memories, weighted down with their sets of heavy chains, upstairs in their room. They weren't going to drag her down again, not for the rest of her life. She could accept them, and make her peace with them, and move past them once and for all. She squeezed B's hand and smiled back at her.

When Faith had first come back to LA nine weeks ago, the hard, bitter, cynical voice in her head had been the dominant part of her personality. She had a hopeful, innocent, trusting voice--the one that had come to the forefront during her time with D--but it was weak and small and being ruthlessly suppressed.

Her time with B had changed that. That first night, when B had told her she loved her, had gone a long way toward turning the tables. The trusting voice became bigger and tougher, and slowly it began to shove the cynical voice toward the background. It got even bigger, and now it was the one doing the stomping. The weak, cynical voice whined that she was being foolish, that B was just going to hurt her like everyone else did, but it sounded more pitiful and hollow with each passing day.

"I love you, B," she said. This came out easily, and she smiled wider.

"Love you, too, Faith," B replied, and matched her fellow slayer's expression.

As they walked past the band, Faith stopped and told them, "You're wrong, you know. You can leave--if you've got someone this amazing to help you break out." She kissed B on the cheek and resumed walking toward the front door, enjoying the confused looks on the faces of the band, and B herself.

They stepped through the front doors and out into the warm Mexican sunshine. As far as B knew, they were just leaving the luxury resort here in Cabo San Lucas.