Buffy stood facing Oz and Willow in the mansion’s great room. Her face was like stone, a wall that hid the torment that filled her. She’d failed. Failed to bring Faith back, and now there was only one way left for her to save him.

“Would you guys---” she took a moment to gather herself. “I’d like to be alone with him.”

Willow tried to reassure her friend.

“We’ll... try to find another cure.” The hopeless tone of her voice betrayed her. The offer was an empty one, and they all knew it. Buffy accepted the gesture for what it was.

“Thanks” Her reply was a whisper.

Oz and Willow left her there, opening the doors to slip out into the night. Buffy stood for a moment, lost in contemplation of what she was about to do. She started towards the room where Angel lay, dying.

Behind her, a flying body smashed the doors open. It tumbled to a stop in the center of the room, a few feet from where Buffy stood. She stared down at it, stunned.

It was Oz lying sprawled there, bloody and broken. His eyes were open and staring at her, but there was no awareness in them. The gaping cut across his throat spurted blood rhythmically, but it was rapidly slowing. Buffy looked up at the two figures standing in the doorway. Willow stood, balancing on tip toe as a strong hand held her up by a grip in her hair. From over her shoulder Faith met Buffy’s eyes.

“Hey again, girlfriend.” She tilted her head and gave a little smile. “’I thought I’d drop by’, isn’t that what you said? Well, I’m here to return the favor.”

Buffy’s mouth was hanging open, but she couldn’t find any words. Her mind wasn’t working, and she could only watch as Faith shook Willow gently.

“So,” She whispered into the redhead’s ear. “Are you afraid of me NOW?” Willow gritted her teeth against the pain, and her voice was strained when she spoke.

“You bitch. You killed Oz!” Tears were welling up in her eyes, and she sent a pleading look at Buffy. Faith gave a gentle laugh.

“Oh, let me pretend that I care.” She smiled wickedly. “Actually, you can blame your boyfriend on B over there.” Buffy gave a little start, and Faith nodded. “That’s right. Since she stabbed me, tried to KILL me a little while ago.” She lowered the point of her knife to her midsection, using it to lift her bloodstained shirt. Her midriff was coated with sticky redness, but the skin beneath the blood was smooth and unbroken. Faith raised an eyebrow at the older Slayer. “Well looky there; all better. Wanna know how?” She raised the knife. “This. You got a little too cute when you used my own knife to try and kill me.” She turned it, admiring its wicked lines and gleaming blade. It was still covered with Oz’s blood, and she pursed her lips in a pout. “Aw, look. It’s got doggie blood all over it. Can’t have that.” She whispered something, and the knife suddenly blazed with red-gold light. Moments later it faded, leaving the razor-edged steel clean and shining. Faith beamed. “See? You think my boss would give me a piece of crap from the knife department at Walmart?” She shook her head. “My baby here is special, B. She’s sorta alive, actually. When you used her on me, she tried her best not to hurt me. So when you thought you’d cut up all my insides, all you really got was what she didn’t quite manage to miss.” Faith grimaced. “That was almost enough, and the fall didn’t do me any good either. But---” She pointed the blade at Buffy. “Where you really screwed up was leaving her laying there for me to come back and find, up on the roof.”

Buffy found her voice, finally.

“You were unconscious, on that truck. I saw you....” Her whisper trailed off.

“You saw me dead?” Faith shrugged. “Sure, I was out... for a few seconds. After that, I came to and rolled out. It was hard to walk back to my apartment building, but the boss’s men found me, helped me upstairs.” She dragged Willow another step forward into the room. Her prisoner was staring down at Oz, her breath coming in little gasps as she teetered on the edge of hysteria. Faith ignored her, focusing on Buffy. “After I got this back,” She flourished the knife. “It was time for her to do her best trick. Wanna see?” She grinned. “You’ve gotta see this. Watch.” She brought the tip of the blade to the side of her own face. With her eyes locked on Buffy’s, she slowly drew it along the side of her jaw, opening a shallow cut there. Blood trickled down the side of her neck. She smiled.

“Ouch. That stings. I’d better do something about it.” She moved the blade to Willow’s face. The girl whimpered as she felt the cool metal touch her. Faith put her lips to her ear. “Don’t worry,” She whispered. “I’m not ready to kill you... yet.” With a slow movement, she traced a bloody line down the side of the witch’s face. As she did so, the blade woke once more. This time the light crackled up the blade, the red-gold energy seemingly drawn from the point where it was cutting Willow’s flesh. The light flowed up, into Faith’s hand where it held the knife handle.

“Ah. That feels nice.” She turned her head slightly to show Buffy the side of her face. The cut she had inflicted on herself seconds earlier was gone. “Get the picture? All I had to do was gut somebody, like you did to me, and I was all better. The boss found somebody for me.” She looked down at where Oz lay, dead now. “I just did wolfy there to make sure I was all the way back. And, well,” She leaned forward and rested her chin on Willow’s shoulder. “Because I wanted to show Red here what I thought about her little speech she gave me a couple of weeks ago.” She ran the smooth flat of the blade over the girl’s face in a caressing movement. Applying gentle, relentless pressure, she turned her captive’s face towards the figure lying on the floor in a pool of blood. “See that? Not bad for... what did you call me? A ‘nothing’? Looks like he’s nothing, now, doesn’t it?” Willow was hyperventilating now, her eyes wide and staring at Oz without focusing. Faith gave a sigh. “Gee, I was hoping for more words of wisdom from you, Red.” She turned her gaze back to her fellow Slayer, still standing frozen on the other side of the room. “And now....” She smiled at Buffy. “I think it’s time for you and me to get it on, one last time.”

With a sudden motion, she reversed the knife and hammered downwards. Her fist, wrapped around the cruelly-shaped hilt, smashed down into the angle between Willow’s neck and shoulder. Bones snapped, and the girl dropped to the floor in a heap, a shriek of agony bursting from her. Buffy lunged forward, her paralysis finally broken, but Faith was already moving, her leap bringing her to meet her foe in the center of the room.

Faith cut across with the knife, but Buffy bounced back out of range, circling warily. Faith lunged, but was met by Buffy’s foot in her belly, the kick sending her stumbling backwards. Buffy took a second to glance down at where Willow lay, curled up and making little mewling sounds.

“Willow? Hang on, please.”

Faith came forward with a sneer.

“Forget about her, worry about me.” She tossed the knife from one hand to the other. She feinted high, then spun, backhanding Buffy across the face with her fist. Buffy backpedaled, trying to keep some distance between herself and that glittering blade. She backed into a low table piled with books, and rolled back across it, landing in a crouch. Snatching up a hardcover book, she hurled it at Faith. The younger girl smacked it out of the air with one hand, an expression of contempt crossing her face.

“Jeez, B. Now you’re throwing things?” She put her hands on her hips and tossed her hair back. “What’s next, you gonna scratch and bite and pull my hair?” Buffy reached under the table and brought up a throwing dagger in each hand. Her training sessions with Angel had resulted in weapons being strewn all over the mansion, and luckily for her he’d not straightened up in a while. She raised one to show Faith.

“Is this butch enough for you?” She whipped it at the other Slayer. Faith dropped to the floor, then rolled frantically as the next one came within inches of her. She bounded to her feet and came at Buffy, a growl coming from somewhere low in her throat. Buffy had found a sturdy stick of wood lying in a stack by the fireplace, and she held it like a sword. Now she was the one advancing, the stick blurring through the air as she swung it through intricate patterns. Faith stood her ground, ducking and dancing around the other girl, looking for an opening. Buffy swung, and spun, lashing out with a backhand. She pulled her arm back with a gasp when Faith met it with her blade, inflicting a deep cut on the blonde’s forearm.

“Not smart, B. Trying to beat me with my move.” She attacked with a flurry of cuts and punches, getting in a solid shot to Buffy’s face, but taking a strike from the stick on her thigh in return. Off to the side, Willow raised her head. Tears and blood streamed down her face as she looked at Oz’s body, but she took a shuddering breath and turned her gaze to where Buffy and Faith fought. And her eyes were windows on hell. Buffy tried to sweep Faith’s legs, blocked a punch with one arm and a knife lunge with her stick. She punched, kicked, punched again, and swung the stick over and down, clipping the side of Faith’s head when the other girl missed the block. Faith fell to one knee, stunned for a moment. Buffy put both hands on the stick and swung it parallel to the floor, like a baseball bat. Faith let herself fall forward out of it’s path, landing prone on the floor and rolling faceup as Buffy was forced to hop across her body, pulled by the force of her swing. Faith had an instant of time where the other girl was facing the wrong way, and she used it to drive the knife upward, into the left side of Buffy’s ass. Buffy yelped, leaping awkwardly away, and Faith came to her feet, one hand pressed to the side of her head. She blinked, trying to clear her doubled vision, as Buffy turned to face her, one hand clutching her bottom.

Willow turned to stare at one of the throwing knives, lying on the far side of the room. After a moment, it rose slowly into the air. She turned to look at Faith, and her hate made the floating dagger tremble. Baring her teeth, she screamed her rage. The dagger leapt forward like an arrow, directly at Faith. The dark Slayer’s eyes had cleared, and she was advancing upon her foe once more. She never saw the knife until it struck her right forearm, burying itself up to the hilt. Faith cried out in rage and pain, barely managing to hold onto her weapon. Her head whipped around, and her eyes found the witch-girl lying there with a grimly satisfied expression on her face. Faith raised her arm, looking at the embedded knife. She looked up at Buffy.

“So this is what you need to win, huh B?” She took hold of the hilt with her left hand pulled it free, gasping with the pain that washed through her. She was shaking as she waved the throwing dagger at the other Slayer. “Your little witch-bitch with her magic tricks?” Her lips twisted into something like a smile. “There’s a word for people like you, Buffy: ‘Loser’.” She threw the knife at Buffy, and when the other Slayer ducked away Faith turned and lunged towards where Willow lay. Buffy saw where she was going, and hurled herself after the other girl. Despite her weak leg, Buffy caught Faith two steps short of Willow. Dropping her stick, she reached out and grabbed Faith by her jacket and hair, yanking her up short. Whirling, Faith cut upwards with her knife. Buffy pulled her head back out of the way, ramming her fist into Faith’s face. Faith’s head was rocked back, but she struck with her left hand, the stiffened fingers striking Buffy in the cheek, tearing the soft skin and just missing her eye. They were face to face, with no room for full swings or kicks.

Faith raised her right hand, with the knife, high overhead, then brought it flashing down with all her might. Buffy caught her wrist with both of her hands, using her strength, and Faith’s momentum, to bring it down to slam into Faith’s stomach. Faith looked up to see Buffy’s vicious smile of triumph... And she smiled back. Buffy looked down, to see Faith’s right hand, empty. She looked up, her confusion slowing her for just a moment, and Faith struck. When she had struck down with her right hand, seconds earlier, she had released the knife just as her hand started to move. Buffy, focused on the movement, hadn’t seen the weapon drop behind Faith’s back, to be caught at waist level in her LEFT hand. And now, she was just an instant too slow to block the unexpected attack from the other side. The blade flashed, passing under the arm Buffy was pulling back to block, and plunged into the side of her chest, high on her right side. She froze for a moment, staring with disbelief into Faith’s eyes. The dark-haired Slayer nodded in understanding.

“Yeah, I know. It hurts.” She ripped the knife free and took a step back. Buffy stood, her hand pressed to her side, staring at Faith, her lips moving without sound. Her eyes hardened, and she stumbled forward a step, raising one fist. Faith took a step forward and lashed out with a snap-kick, her foot slamming home between Buffy’s breasts, blasting her backwards to land flat on her back on the fireside table. She lay there, staring at the ceiling, her blood spilling from her lips, her limbs twitching. Faith stood for a moment, looking down at her.

“Wow, B. That looks wicked painful.”

She abruptly leaned a little to the side, and the other dagger whipped past her head. She turned to look at Willow, who was glaring up from her place on the floor. Faith bared her teeth.

“You know something? I am fed up with your shit.” She drew back a foot and kicked the girl in the side of the head, hard. Willow was lifted from the floor and flipped over in mid air, falling back with a dull thud, and a weak moan. When she looked up again, her face was bloody, both from the kick and from its impact against the floor. Her eyes wandered about the room, confused. Faith seated herself on Willow’s back.

“Well, that was fun, huh Red?” She flexed the fingers of her right hand, wincing. Blood was still streaming from her arm, and she leaned down to hold it in front of the witch’s face. “Look at this. Look what you did.” She shook her head. “This will take all day to heal up, and I’ve got a graduation to go to today. My dress is short sleeves, and this will look awful.” She shrugged. “Since it’s your fault, I think you should be willing to help me take care of it, don’t you think?” Willow tried to turn her head far enough to look up at her, but could not. One of her eyes was swollen shut, now, and two teeth lay in the little puddle of drool and blood on the floor next to her chin. When she didn’t respond, Faith shifted her seat and planted one foot on Willow’s outstretched hand, pinning it to the floor. Willow began to struggle frantically, realizing what was coming, but she was too weak to pull free. Faith took her knife in her bad hand, and plunged it down into Willow’s forearm. A muffled scream emerged from the girl beneath her, but Faith was watching the red-gold energy pulse up the blade, into her own hand and up her arm. Moments later she raised her arm. The bleeding had stopped, the wound fading to invisibility. She smiled.

“Beauty.” She stood and used one foot to roll Willow to lie face up. She leaned over and stared down at the girl’s ruined face. “Not so smart now, huh? If not for you, none of this might have happened, you know that?” Her eyes were sad. “You had to keep at her, telling her that I was a psycho, that I was trying to take her away from her ‘real’ friends. You thought you were better than me. Smarter, nicer, cooler.” She smiled down at the girl, who looked back with her one good eye. The face was almost unrecognizable now, with the swelling, broken nose, broken teeth and torn lips. Faith examined that face for a moment, then shrugged. “You might be right. But you know what?” She leaned even lower, and whispered:

“I’m cuter than you.”

And her knife flashed, cutting cleanly through Willow’s throat. Faith stepped back from the spurting blood, and stood watching, filled with a satisfaction that had been a long time coming.

She turned, to see that Buffy was still lying helpless on the table, but her head was turned to watch, and silent tears were spilling from her beautiful eyes. Faith walked slowly towards her.

“You get a good look at that, B?” She gestured over her shoulder. “That’s what you left me for. Well, that was part of it.” She paused, and looked off to the side. “Wait a second, here comes the real reason. Come on in, big guy.” Angel stood leaning in the doorway, clutching a sheet around his sweat-sheened body. His eyes had a feverish gleam, and he looked around in confusion.

“W-what’s happening? I smell... blood.”

Faith laughed.

“Oh, yeah, we’ve got blood. Come over and have some.” She crouched next to Buffy, reaching out to touch the other girl’s chest with gentle fingers. “Uh oh, I can hear some gurgling in there, B. Sounds like I got your lung.” Angel stumbled towards them as she ran her hand across Buffy’s face in a caress. “I really did love you, you know. Ever since that night that you stayed with me, fought beside me in that warehouse.” Her lips curved up in a genuine smile. “Against ‘kissing toast’.” She laughed, then looked back down, running her fingers across the other girl’s throat, her breasts, to touch the wound that bubbled with a bloody froth with each breath she took. Faith shook her head. “But you didn’t stay with me after that, did you? You went back to them, to him.” Angel was standing over them both now, swaying as he stared, without comprehension, at the two Slayers. Faith looked up at him, and her face was twisted with hate, and lust. “Oh, I can see why you’d want to jump him, don’t get me wrong.” She looked back down at Buffy, whose green eyes were glazed with pain and shock, but still held intelligence. Faith leaned down until their faces were just inches apart. “But you tried to kill me, for him.” Her voice was filled with disgust. “Kill Me. For this dumb as shit piece of vampire ass. I could forgive you anything, anything but that.” Her own eyes were full of tears now, and she swallowed. She glanced up. “Angel. Sit yourself down, right here.” She pointed, and he obeyed, falling to his knees beside her.

“W-what’s happening? Faith?”

She ignored him. Taking Buffy’s hand, she put the knife in the other girl’s grasp, closing her fingers around it. She held the hand and knife tightly, smiling as Buffy tried, with failing strength, to ram it into Faith.

“No, no, I won’t let you do that twice. But I tell you what.” She put her head next to Buffy’s and looked up at Angel. “I will let you save yourself. This knife can heal you. All you have to do is kill someone with it.” She looked into Buffy’s eyes, then back at Angel. Her lips just inches away from Buffy’s ear, she whispered. “Oz is dead, Willow is dead, you can’t hurt me. Who does that leave?” Buffy’s eyes went wide with horror, and she managed to shake her head. Faith looked back at her. “B. Buffy. It can all change, it can be like it should have been.” Her eyes were intense. “I know things that Giles never told you, but Mayor Wilkens told me. Things that you should know.” Her hands tightened on Buffy’s. “Kill him. Kill him, and I’ll forgive you for what you did to me. We can be together, for longer than you can even dream. Forever isn’t just for vampires and demons, not when you have power inside you like we do.” She brought Buffy’s hand to her lips, kissing it gently, never looking away from her eyes. “Last chance. Please, I don’t want to do it without you.” Buffy stared at Faith, then her eyes flicked to Angel. Her breath was coming in rapid, shallow gasps now, and her beautiful face was as pale as ice.

“No.” It was a gasp, but it sounded through the room like a shout. She stared at Faith, and her eyes were cold, too. “I would rather die... than hurt... him.” She closed her eyes. “Live forever... Faith. And do it alone.” Faith stared at the other Slayer, at her sister, and closed her own eyes for a long moment. When she opened them, they were empty. She took the knife from Buffy’s hand, and leaned forward to kiss her lightly on the lips, tasting the blood that stained them. Then she leaned back and looked at the vampire.

“Angel.” He looked at her, dazed and uncertain, nearly dead. Faith gestured. “Buffy is about to go to sleep.” She smiled sadly. “Give her a kiss goodnight.” Buffy’s eyes opened as Angel leaned forward, bracing himself with one hand to keep from falling atop her. Buffy tried to pull away, tried to turn aside, but Faith gripped her head with both hands, holding her still. “Hey now, is that any way to treat your boyfriend?” Angel’s lips found Buffy’s and he kissed her deeply. Faith used one hand to hold the back of his head, and when he tried to jerk away she held him firmly in place. “Uh oh, B. Looks like he’s got a taste of something, here. Maybe, something that he needs?” She shook her head as Angel stopped fighting to pull away, instead pressing himself into Buffy, hard. Buffy tried to scream, but her mouth was covered, was being consumed. Blood spilled from where their lips met, and Faith sat back to watch. “It’s something he’s always wanted, I’m thinking. He was just waiting for the right time and place.” She held up her knife, stained with Buffy’s blood. She whispered to it.

“She’s just getting what she wanted, princess. What she knew she would get all along.” Buffy’s struggles were beginning to weaken, and Angel was looking a bit stronger, now. She glanced back at the knife. “You didn’t mean to hurt me, before. I know. Not every Angel turns on the one it loves, that’s why I named you like I did.” She smiled fondly as the blade blazed red-gold, the blood burning away to leave it gleaming. She pressed her lips against the blade, then stood. “Our work here is done, my little Princess Angel.” She gave the blade a fond caress. “Now it’s time to have a little fun.” With a giggle she slipped the knife into its sheath at the small of her back. She reached forward and grabbed Angel by the neck, yanking him off of Buffy. She lay, her lips and tongue in shreds, blood pooling around her head, staining her golden hair.

Angel was in vamp-face, and she grimaced.

“Quit that.” She slapped him, hard. He snarled and reached for her, but she pushed his arms aside and slapped him again. “Nope, still too weak to fight, but I think you’re feeling a little frisky now, huh?” He shuddered, and abruptly transformed back to his human face. He looked dazed, staring at her. She smiled. “That’s better.”

He looked around, noticing Oz, and Willow, for the first time.

“My god. What’s happening here? What---” He stared at Faith, and she smiled as he slowly worked things out. “Faith. What have you done?”

She shrugged modestly.

“Oh, I might have gotten things started, but I think you’ve finished them up. Look behind you.” He frowned at her, then slowly turned... and looked down. A moan came from somewhere deep inside him, and he fell to his knees. Buffy was still alive, still conscious, and she looked up at him. He reached out to touch her savagely mauled face, and his hands trembled.

“Buffy.” He whispered. “What have I done? What have I done?” He put his face in his hands, and shuddered with the sobs that overtook him. Faith put her hand on his shoulder.

“There, there. I know, it’s tough.” She ran her fingers through his hair. “You must be feeling wicked guilty about now, I guess.” She shook her head. “You probably want to die, after doing something like that to your best girl.” Several seconds passed as he wept, and Faith waited impatiently. Finally, she grabbed him by the hair and yanked his head up to face her. “I said: ‘You must want to die, now, Huh?’”

His eyes were wet, and self-loathing filled them. He stared at her, and then nodded.

“Yes. Yes, damn you!” His voice was shaking. “I want to die!”

She grinned.

“Great!” She yanked him to his feet and began dragging him, still naked, towards the doors that led outside. “I make it about an hour or so till sunup, which gives us plenty of time to have some fun before you go ‘Poof’.” He struggled, but he was still weak, half dead from the poison, and the wounds she had taken in the battle were gone like they had never existed. Buffy watched them go, her breath coming ever more shallow, her vision dimming. She heard Faith’s words as she dragged Angel outside and up the path to the top of the hill.

“First I do you, then watch you get a really bad sunburn. Then, let’s see. Xander and Giles are probably at the library, I’ll kill them there. Wesley too, if he shows his face. Cordelia... I think I’ll leave her alive for the boss to eat, she looks tasty. Oh, look Angel! Stars! No snowstorm’s gonna save you this time.” Her laughter faded slowly.

Buffy managed to turn her head to look at where Willow lay, and her last sight was her best friend’s broken body, lying out of reach. As she faded away, she wondered about the darkness, and Faith, and forever.