Living After: What It Comes Down To
by Pat Kelly
Rating: R

Disclaimer: I make no money. All hail Joss and his army of Mutant Enemies. And oh, if you have time, FOX and UPN, too. Possibly the WB.
Spoilers: Helps to have seen BtVS the Series, and Season 5 of ANGEL. Oh, and you sort of need to have read "Summer Unwind." Especially the epilogue.
Note: Okay, here's the follow-up to "Summer Unwind" I said was coming several months ago. Heh. I'm writing it solo in Janine's absence, so I hope it doesn't suck. I can't promise a regular update schedule as I write when the feeling strikes, and I'm trying to write original fic as well, but I'll try my best. My prolific days are long over. LOL. I hope everyone who reads, enjoys. :-)
Note 2: In honor of Faithful_Chickie--may she make a full recovery.

Secluded. That was Dawn's initial thought when the three of them moved here last October. When they rolled up the driveway onto their new, fifteen acres worth of property. There was even a sewer and water supply separate from that used by the moderately small town; about as private an existence as you could get. Except for when Buffy and Faith had people come for lessons. And the occasional deer.

She'd hoped to see one getting a drink, but no such luck. Weren't any birds hanging around, either. Oh well. It was night, anyway. But yes, a very sizable lake touched the shore along their land's back edge. Lately, Dawn liked to sit here, just thinking. Quiet, calm, peaceful--what better place for it? Plenty to mull over, too. Her life was at its first, significant milestone; 'choice-making' time had unfortunately arrived.

Graduation went a lot smoother than her sister's. Thank God Coushoa High offered her that placement/proficiency test, thus bumping her ahead several grades. Her records from Sunnydale were non-existent, and if she hadn't impressed...well, she would've been a freshman for the fourth time in a row, thanks to Sunnydale's educational system being discombobulated ever since Buffy had blown up the original high school.

Yet having dodged that bullet, she more than passed, and so the whole gang was showing for her congratulatory, weekend-long party. After...after, she'd planned to go to Boston College, because that's where Kennedy (with two others) had been primarily stationed for slayer duty. Only, she and 'Miss Tongue-Stud Tramp' were through as a result of Brazilian infidelity, which made her wonder what the hell she really wanted.

Did she even really want Kennedy? Who knew?

Then, of course, leaving her sister and Faith was a worry. Leaving the 'Good Fight' behind. Not that there was much to fight. Maine--or, at least Coushoa--fell short on violent, slayable types. Some popped up on occasion, but the females had made friendly with local demons just wishing to be positive contributors to society, and were in turn notified of most threats before they became a serious issue. Plus, the worst came by ship from overseas...the worst hardly ever saw the docks.

So, supernatural evil wasn't a high concern these days. Wouldn't matter if it were, though, as *someone* would go into a Hulk-like rage should she try avoiding college. If her blond sibling wasn't working towards a degree by attending night courses in the community college (a copy of *her* records luckily survived at the University of California's main campus), Dawn might have had an argument. A weak argument, but still.

And who majors in 'Psychology' without having a gun held to his or her head? Maybe Buffy wanted to be qualified for the next job involving kids; she must've genuinely enjoyed counseling. In the meantime, to have an income on top of the remaining three million gaining interest in the bank, she taught martial arts with Faith to whoever wanted to learn, and worked in the fish market, slicing and dicing. It got them free seafood.

Which Faith was currently boiling in the kitchen. Dawn could no longer turn to her for sympathy, either, because the brunette enrolled in a cooking class, figuring it made sense to put her love of food to good use. It wasn't exactly academic, but it was a formal, knowledge-imparting setting nonetheless. Besides that, Faith also bartended at the tavern, bringing in her fair share of tips. What drove her was desperately wanting to open a small restaurant where the closed, Starbucks eyesore stood.

When did everybody acquire drive and focus? The teenager had to sigh.

Because fulfillment didn't just stop with employment and school--her two sisters, biological and non-biological alike, weren't hiding anymore. They absolutely lived in a secluded home, but no person was shut out with 'Beware' signs and shotguns. The slayers were known favorably in the community, having gotten past that isolated, alone feeling; they were well-adjusted, welcoming, 'normal-ish' people. Anybody who wanted to find them could do so.

Especially Firecracker. Their six-month-old, German Shepherd came bounding excitedly through the wooded area that served as a barrier between the shore and the rest of the property, right to her. Thinking over.

"Hey, boy--dinner ready?" She smiled at him and rose. He was probably starving, because he didn't eat until they were. "K, c'mon."

*****

"No fair!"

Dawn raced the easily speedier puppy to the rear of the split-level home. Past the woods, most of the terrain was pasture that had gone unused for quite a while, as they had no cows. Probably was a working farm once, filled with the appropriate animals, though now, not so much. Now it simply served as running room for Firecracker, as well as restful, strolling space for his owners. But Buffy and Faith did have a garden directly out back--a mix of vegetables and purely aesthetic value plants. Dawn couldn't yet appreciate it.

Seemed like too much manual labor for someone to undertake voluntarily. In the beginning, even Faith fought against the very relaxed, 'domestic' activity, shoveling out the excuse that it just, "kept her off the corners," but the fact that she would go amongst the flowers and weeds immediately upon getting off work, told Dawn there was more to it. She and Buffy either both stayed outside until sundown, or split their time between the garden and training in the converted barn. On the nights they didn't have to instruct.

Sitting off to the side of the house, the original, 'Chosen' pair had the bright idea to remodel the barn. Stables were removed, hay bales, stenches...and were replaced with mats, weapons, punching bags, some personal, workout equipment, even a mirror wall. And Giles offered to help, because he had an idea of his own. He wanted to send them new slayers, have Buffy and Faith administer a final exam of sorts before sending girls into the field.

Of course they agreed. Being removed from heavy battling, they wanted to do their part to at least see that the growing army was in peak condition. Weeks passed with this routine, when one evening, following some 'slayerly' interference which saved a mother and daughter's lives, the grateful mother commented that there were those in Coushoa who'd pay for self-defense classes if they could become as skillful. Buffy then had to explain how it wouldn't be quite the same, but they took her--Diana's--comment to heart.

And right they were to do so. Their extremely popular class was held three times a week. Kaci, Diana's eleven-year-old, took a shine to them as well. She would mess around (under watchful eyes), punching and kicking in front of the mirrors. However, Kaci moved with a noticeable sharpness that went beyond play fighting, obvious even to Dawn. Power wouldn't develop fully for several years, but they all had their suspicions that the girl was going to have a destiny to answer to. It was a fate they dreaded telling her mother about.

Personally, they didn't want her in that life, but seeing as it was unavoidable, she got trained solo for free, none the wiser. Though they were going to need to address it sooner rather than later, so she and Diana could make a decision. Kaci couldn't ignore being a slayer, but each girl could choose whether or not they wanted to work with Giles' new Council. No one was forced against their will to the many Fronts anymore.

Thankfully, that was still semi-down the line. Kaci and Diana had become their closest, local friends, and they aimed to keep it that way. Sometimes mom and daughter came for dinner, but not tonight. Tonight was just family. Sliding open the glass door on the back patio, she let Firecracker in and entered behind him.

"Dawn?" Buffy called from two floors above. "It's your turn to set the table!"

*****

You didn't need slayer hearing to recognize the arrival of a young brunette and her hyperactive companion. Human and dog bounded loudly up the continuous spiral staircase that passed through the first floor and landing before reaching the second. Those listening were smart enough to use this audible information wisely, meaning that Buffy hopped off the counter quickly, after Faith removed her hands from underneath the blonde's shirt--making out in secret was all they'd been able to do since the grocery store.

Exhilarating it might've been, but also frustrating. Well, any experienced downsides were their own fault...keeping their nosy housemate clueless for kicks was no one else's decision. There was a price to pay for having dumb ideas. Unfortunately, brain activity had hit an all-time low earlier today and hadn't really returned to normal levels. The well of intelligent ideas had therefore, gone bone dry. And anyhow, what did brains ever contribute to bodies when amorousness and its relatives took over? Absolutely jack, that's what.

That was the pair's story, and sticking to it they were. Only secretly.

"How'd we make a year without, yunno?" Faith questioned in a whisper.

"Damned if I know." Buffy answered, trying to sound less lacking of breath. "I mean, I haven't, had...in like, two and a half years. And apparently, still counting. I can't even pretend I'm trying to make some important statement, where this is all about me showing my independent streak so it looks sorta admirable...now it's just sad." Her head found space right above where the Bostonian's cleavage would be if she weren't wearing an actual, long-sleeved shirt. No jeans or leather either, in fact. Just snug sweats. "Screw 'girl power.'" Whimper. "Oh, bad, *bad* word choice."

After Spike, she became disgusted with her own body and what it had done; having other distractions to focus on, signals got blocked. Yet with the floodgates opened, she faced mad, angry signals.

Her partner hadn't ever looked so floored and sympathetic, simultaneously. "What about...?" The response to the downward-angled hand motion was a shaking head. "Buffy, I-I never realized..." Exhaling her shock, that partner was at a loss. Channeling energy elsewhere was okay in stretches, but wow. "Hell. I'm really," Dawn appeared then, and Firecracker went to his prepared bowls, "sorry I, uh, left that...where I left it at. Wasn't thinkin'."

"What'd you leave where?" The teen suspiciously asked, coming to gather utensils, plates and glasses from the drawer and wall-cabinet they stood in front of.

"Um, mayonnaise. Faith left the jar out. Out and open." The blonde lied, and as she wasn't given much to work with, she thought she did rather well. Kept it clean, too. "Got moldy."

The elder brunette had to take it upon herself to sell the bull, make it real. So she assumed a defensive stance. "Yeah, wasn't thinking, sorry." She counted off on her fingers. "Already offered the apology. Hey, you hear that? Almost like an echo or something."

Buffy discreetly sent her an appreciative look prior to fully joining the 'BS Express.' "I heard. And I'm not debating that you're sorry...when did I say you weren't? It's just--"

"--a jar of mayo? Pins down my feelings, B. Exact."

"That's not the point. Sure, it starts with a couple things, except soon it’s the entire fridge, cause you'll leave the door open. You've gotta watch what you're doing, is all. Be more careful." It was hard to hide the smile from her hazel eyes.

"Like nothin' ever slipped your mind." Faith accused, in the best accusatory tone she could muster.

"Nothing that could spoil."

Oh, that was good. They should've won Oscars.

Dawn, who had managed to hold the appropriate number of forks, spoons and knives in one hand, and three glasses in the other, finally interjected, "Wait--the jar you just bought today?"

Her sister hadn't remembered that fact when inventing the lie (they'd actually finished off the old jar problem-free...luckily Dawn wasn't too observant), but recovered nicely. "No, dummy. We had to buy the new jar *because* she ruined the old jar. Understand?" The girl slowly nodded, so she continued. "I can't help it if I ho--"

"--hold a grudge?" Faith completed her fellow slayer's sentence for the second time, except at this juncture, she wasn't supposed to. Cringe.

Panic. It was supposed to be solely Buffy's, and the improv threw her off. She ended up using Faith's next one. "She...uh, I-I'm, bitchy that way?" Weak, unsure delivery.

Pronouns had to be abruptly changed, of course; despite how insulting herself didn't make sense. Yet none of this did, so it made little difference. Both caught their mistakes late, and their audience had had enough. "Uh huh." Dawn rolled her eyes. "Plates are there; I'll be in the dining room. Try to come down off the drugs before you do any heavy lifting."

Once she was out of sight, they had to chuckle quietly. "We frigged that up royal." Faith acknowledged.

"Never afraid to state the obvious, are you?" The petite one smirked.

The cook decided to smartly concentrate, again, on the boiling pot containing ready-to-eat lobsters. She couldn't immediately find what she needed to get them out, but her eyes soon found the tool. "Your hand's on my tongs."

Buffy's mouth hung open. After everything she had admitted there was that kind of talk? "Faith! Thanks a lot!"

"Huh?" Came the innocent reply.

When Faith reached over and pulled the metal tongs out from under her palm resting on the counter, she went red. "Oh." She moved behind her to get out of the way.

Then somebody pieced it together. "Damn. Wasn't intentional, B--I swear." A brilliant suggestion suddenly formed. "Wanna go take five," Fingers did a wriggle and a mouth did grin, "relieve a little pressure? I'll cover for ya."

Tempting. However, the blonde's mind drifted past herself alone, and to the areas Faith could cover instead. More tempting, less helpful. "But I shouldn't have to. Not with us...being an 'us.'" Extremely tempting.

"Plus, you made dinner, and..." Her gaze wandered lower and lower. 'Don't look...for the love of god, don't look...' "And I hafta melt your butter." She was headed the opposite direction, towards the microwave as her Freudian slip registered. "*The* butter; the butter of the. Crap." Teeth clenched, "That's it. We're telling her after, then we're sending her two towns over for...something. I don't really care. She only has to be away."

As the buzzer for the baked potatoes sounded, Faith felt laughter bubble to the surface that, hard as she tried, wasn't hers to control.

*****

{You know what I'm noticing? We have a really sturdy table. If for some reason weight had to be put on it...say, vertically, there'd probably be very little collapsing risk. And I bet that corner's pretty comfy as long as you're standing the right way. Against it. Because lots of things can happen in the heat of the moment, so it's important to think about these things ahead of time. Like the floor. Another possibility. I wonder how the carpet--?}

All through dinner a deprived Buffy played out these various scenarios, and so thoroughly involved in them was she, that most of the conversation had whizzed on by. It was kind of overwhelming, this sudden rush of wanting. Needing. Fantasizing. Up until Firecracker had snuck underneath the table and licked her hand, startling her so much that she yelled, the other two didn't know if she would ever emerge from her own head.

And only Faith knew what had her preoccupied.

"Damn it!" Buffy tried to regain composure. "You're supposed to be eating in the kitchen." Firecracker just looked innocent from beneath the cloth, and visible, irrational guilt set in.

"No, you gotta be firm. Watch and learn." Faith said to her girlfriend with some exasperation, who had a tendency to be lenient on the puppy. "Go lay down, Crack-head. Now." He seemed to look at his blond master pleadingly. "Hey! What'd I say? Move it." The scolded pet begrudgingly did as told, going next to Faith's chair on the other side of the table, lying down and staring up at her. She almost cracked a smile. "Little son of a bitch."

"Right. Firm. Works like a charm--I see that now." Came the petite slayer's sardonic response.

"Faith, stop calling him 'Crack-head.'" Dawn said not for the first time, upset with that nickname. "It's mean...and he's gonna get confused."

The elder brunette shrugged off the demand and cracked open another lobster, barehanded. "Not my problem."

"Yes it is!"

"How you figure?" Meat was dug out of the dead sea-dweller quite forcefully.

"Cause...it is! You picked him out, you named him..." The teen knew there was more to back up her side, but it wasn't coming.

"Glad we're seein' eye-to-eye." Faith said with a smile, liberally applying butter to her food. "Cause when it comes to his nicks, that gives me first call. Get over it, Junior."

"Besides," Buffy came to her partner's defense, "animals are pretty adaptable. I'm sure he won't get *that* confused." She watched Faith eat a forkful, and began to drift again.

Dawn couldn't believe what she was hearing. "Yesterday you were totally on my side about this." Suspicions rose. "Are you two doing it and I don't know? Is she like, threatening to withhold sex if you don't agree with everything she says?"

"Huh? Don't be crazy." Her sister started to say in a rather unconvincing tone, and then the last part just fell out. "We're not even at third base yet. Unfortunately."

Faith choked a little on her mouthful, while Buffy's eyes darted elsewhere as she drank a big gulp of milk. Images abounded.

The ex-Key needed a moment to absorb. "So first and second happened? When the heck?" She didn't give either of them a chance to answer. "Well now I know what you've been thinking about the whole time you've been not here." Initially she was amused, but horror quickly settled on her face. "Oh God--I know what you've been thinking about. Eew."

"I thought you'd be thrilled. Haven't you been waiting for us to...yunno, couple?" Buffy asked, unsurely.

"Yeah, I mean, it's great and all. *Finally* you guys have stopped being such dumb-asses, and listened to me. Kinda stunned." Dawn smiled to show her support. "Except, way too much info, sis. I seriously didn't need to go to the visual place. Could've gotten by with a bare-bones overview, in fact."

"Oh. Good." The blonde exhaled with relief, blind to the traumatizing. "Then you won't mind hanging out with your friends tonight? Maybe you can, um, sleep over even."

Stupid visual place. "Again. Eew. And also, just for emphasis, 'gross.'" Plus, she was reminded of the sex she never had. With the two-timing super-harlot. A small 'woof' sounded. "See? I'm not alone." She chose to interpret that as backup, anyway. "But yes...I'll go do something that's fun, legal, and age-appropriate. Like I wanna stick around here?" Dawn decided to press her advantage. "I could use some money, though. Unless you want me robbing a bank. Or pawning someone's jewelry and precious, family heirlooms."

"Nope. Wouldn't want my college-bound sister revisiting her 'rebel klepto' phase."

The Bostonian didn't say anything at that, but she did snigger. Dawn took offense. She hopped Buffy didn't pick up on the slight frown at the mention of college. "What? I was *so* a delinquent."

"Sure you were, Pipsqueak." Faith nodded in placation, unable to wipe the smirk off. "Crooked to the bone, fencin' stuff from Aber Crombie like that. Woulda fit right in on D-block."

"You did it again! Stop with the nicknames! And it wasn't...whatever." The teenager said with resigned exasperation. "Look, since Buffy's back in our dimension, can we just go back to talking about my party? How long do I have to stay? I promised Kelly I'd stop by hers, then Jordan's, and then Jeff rented lanes at the bowling alley, so we're all going--"

"Dawn! Our friends are coming from all over the world to see you, literally, and you're already planning how to get out of it?" Buffy balked. "I don't think so."

"I'm not trying to get out of, I'm trying to time manage, and be, you know, efficient." Dawn argued calmly. "I love the gang, and I can't wait to see everyone, but c'mon, Buffy, they're *your* friends. They wanna see you guys and the house; they're not gonna miss me. But that's cool, cause I have my own gang. I'm not gonna bail after five minutes and be rude or anything, but please don't make me stay the whole time. I mean, they'll still be here the next day, right?"

Her eyes went from slayer to slayer, looking desperately for some lenience.

Faith laid down the rules. "All right, here's how it's gonna play. People show up, settle in, you make the rounds for a solid hour, hour'n'a half, sample some of my grillin', and we'll cut ya loose." She offered. "Fair shake, yeah?"

"Done." In a knocking of fists across the table, they sealed the deal.

"Could start clearing." The older brunette suggested in a way that wasn't a suggestion, and Dawn, having just scored a victory, didn't complain. Faith looked at her girlfriend. "Think she needs help." Then she winked.

Buffy didn't complain either. More often than not, Faith was the one who fed them, so it was only right. And she was afraid of the sexual repercussions if she did complain. "Dawn, I'll load if you bring things in."

There was no doubt they were a family. Maybe afterwards they'd go out to the garden while there was still light left, or just pass and crash in the game room. Didn't matter--it was just a really nice life they'd carved for themselves. As Faith just continued eating, thinking this, the house began to shake. Firecracker barked an incessant amount. Loud noise came from the backyard. She knew what it was, they all did, but she sprinted downstairs to the backdoor to confirm, anyhow.

"Military chopper!"

And upstairs, even through the whirring blades, Faith could hear a frustrated, horny, blonde slayer scream a very intense expletive. And this time, she didn't laugh. It was true about best laid plans...they tended to fall through. Hard.

*****

When Giles walked into their house, formalities were skipped. Angel had made a move on the Black Thorn, Wolfram and Hart retaliated, and slayers in Los Angeles were forced into battle. Angel and his people were nowhere to be found, with demons all over the city taking advantage. Lorne called, bringing Giles up to speed, and now he and their military supporters were worried about what was coming next.

He wouldn't have shown up so abruptly if he didn't have every reason to believe that something bigger was on the horizon; he asked for their assistance. There'd be time for specifics and speculation on the way to the base, where they'd transfer to a plane for the trip to LA. What choice did they have? With a helicopter waiting on their lawn, it felt like they were being backed into a corner. And guilt still hung over their heads.

That left Dawn to hurry and put dishes in the sink with Giles' help, and the Chosen pair to jet for Faith's bedroom for a quick conference and weapons check, even though both knew they were flying. It was amazing how fast things could change.

"This just sucks." Buffy uttered, pointlessly. "But we're doing it, aren't we?"

"There another choice? I mean, not just cause it looks like Angel wised up and brought 'Evil Inc.' to its knees and we'd look bitchin' swooping in, but if this turns into the shit-storm Giles says it's headin' towards? No way we're safe for long. Don't wanna get caught with our pants down." Then she actually slid her pants off. "B, grab my leathers and a tank outta the closet?" Her jeans were relegated to garden duty.

The blonde slayer was wide-eyed, stupefied, and turned on. Not that she'd ever turned off. "Wha...? Wh-why are you changing?"

"Like I'm gonna have a stare-down with some demon in my sweats? Yeah, they'd really be quakin'." The brunette slayer said, sarcastically, currently pulling off both T-shirt and bra while Buffy concentrated on the closet. "Every superchick's gotta have her outfit."

Then Buffy turned around, speaking before registering the topless-ness. "I'm a superchick, and I don't..." Instant shock. "...have an outfit." Blink.

Faith took the articles of clothing from her frozen hands, not even aware, because as a rare first, she wasn't trying to be sexual. "Wanna wear my jacket? Best thing next to a cape."

Dumbly, "Sure. Okay."

"I think it's by the front door." She said, easily slipping into very familiar attire. Then she looked around. "Fuck. You seen my boots?"

Buffy shook it off. "Nah. Just your perfect breasts. Jesus...are you *trying* to kill me?"

"Gave that up, remember? Been over this plenty." Grin. "But thanks for the review."

End of rope, couldn't take it anymore. Buffy grabbed her girlfriend's tank top, brought them together, and found her lips. Time was of the essence, she got it, but she needed some sort of contact. Her body's recent and now constant humming around Faith drove her batty; hopefully this would appease the gods until she could either have sex, or redirect her energies elsewhere. "You're lucky you're you."

"S'what I keep telling myself; I sound more convincing than I used to." After a small follow up mouth tasting from Faith, she sat on her bed. "Weapons are under. Should just take the duffel."

The petite blonde noticed the abrupt shift straight back to business, so she bit her tongue, crouched and pulled the duffel bag out. It was filled with stakes, a couple knives, a small crossbow, crosses and holy water bottles. She spied something else, too. "Hey, boots. Oh...what about the weapons in the barn?"

Faith shook her head. "Leave 'em. Bet they'll have a whole stockpile when we get to LA...but till we're there, I'll feel better packin' my stake."

"Ditto. Wish we hadn't 'donated' the scythe to the next generation, though." Buffy started putting Faith's boots on her, and brown eyebrows shot up. "Well, since I'm down here..." As she laced them, she couldn't not ask, "Faith, you want to, um, do this now, right? Meaning us? Before stuff is intense again, I'd like to be sure about one thing, at least. Because I've been crazed, and you've been not. Maybe we *should've* stayed by the marshmallows."

"Like I said." The dark-haired slayer took a moment to enjoy that she was right, and then replied. "But what you said? Bout the life we carved, the house, and how nobody's taking it away? That ain't true if Wolfram and Hart decides to attack full on. National then global? Total screw-job. Long as I can mix it up though, that won't happen. Grown wicked attached to plantin' and cookin'." It was kind of a bewildering obsession. "Who'da thought I'd dig domestication?"

"I was wondering how you got in slay-mode so fast." Buffy thought perhaps Faith had regrets about her decision to leave the fight.

Faith nodded. "Comes down to protecting the homestead. Only reason I need."

And a wonderful reason it was. Buffy was definitely more motivated than she'd been two minutes ago. "Also a ditto." They'd built something worth saving here. "And you and me?"

"Just cause I've got reigns on the urge doesn't mean I don't feel it." The Bostonian was joined on the bed. "I've been dyin' to make you wriggle...just learned to focus, is all. Okay, you almost broke my concentration earlier, but we beat the buzzer, so no foul. You know I get in a zone at the stove."

"Firsthand knowledge. Sometimes I worry about you two." The elder smirked, then rewound. "Wait...are you saying I'm not focused because I'm not suppressing like you?"

"No, I'm sayin' give yourself a little attention; you'll be less crazed after, sharp. Shouldn'ta waited as long as ya did--a girl's got needs." The younger stated, matter-of-factly. "Not that I wouldn't be glad to assist, but I'd be pretty damn focused for a while." They didn't have the time. "Point is, I see a job through. Consider the friggin' ADD itch scratched...mostly." She felt really good about her progress. "I can sit in the garden, lookin' for hours at birds, still as Gandhi. No more movin' just to move. Here, anyway."

Buffy squeezed her hand in understanding. "LA's the test for both of us, I guess."

"Either it holds and I don't lose control of the sitch--"

"And I don't disappear when the 'Slayer' comes out--"

"Or we're foolin' ourselves." Faith finished on a sour note.

"For the record?" The blonde said, semi-confidently. "I don't think we are." Pause. "Let's hope." She stood with her partner, who flung the duffel bag strap over her shoulder. "So when there's a few, free minutes in the middle of the war zone...?" Double-checking.

"Full body rock 'em, sock 'em. Guinness territory. Buffy, you and me? I'm ready."

Ooh. Good answer. "What sub-category? Guinness-wise?"

"It matter?"

"Nuh-uh."

They left the room, went to the staircase, and started following it down. "But we're gonna be in the thick," The brunette continued the conversation, "which notches up the heat level, so if I'm detained or whatever and that tickle's calling, do what you what you gotta do, understand?" She was serious as a heart attack. "How d'you think I survived prison? Or the last year? They don't clue you in, but this inner peace thing is only 65 percent mental."

"And the other thirty-five is 'she-bopping'?" Buffy laughed as they stopped at the landing and front door to grab Faith's coat, which Buffy put on. She also locked up. "Fine, I promise to masturbate if you're elsewhere." What the hell? They were adults.

"That's my girl." Further down they went, Faith entertaining ideas of watching one day. She never sad images were a bad thing. "Guess you're ready, too."

"Uh, duh?"

"That isn't..." She sighed. The grocery store session came out of left field. While the reformed ex-con believed it was genuine, especially with this talk and everything, she wanted to be positive it wasn't due to a wacky hormone day. "I meant, I dunno, what jumped you over the hurdle? Italy did it for me...where's the cred go?"

"Same place." The shorter girl confirmed. "Or, Dawn was sorta the final nudge to readiness." There was nothing else to say. It was in her eyes, and they knew why that escapade was the catalyst.

Willow had become the new Council's ambassador/PR Witch after resigning her post with Angel, and she went to talk to the Immortal because Giles wanted him as an ally. Except he would only have an audience with the original slayers, the Chosen Two. So they flew over, not ones to pass up a Roman vacation, and got along easily with the charismatic man.

But as was common for Angel, he had eyes on them constantly, and to mess with his head--not to mention Spike's--they fed his spy misinformation. When the vampires arrived, the females put on a show with the Immortal's help, acting as if they were under his sexual thrall, and then watched the vampires scramble about and argue pathetically. They had history with the guy. It was fun briefly, yet reached new heights of sad.

Buffy was too scared to be flattered. They hadn't moved on. Not just from her, but also from their issues with each other, their intimacy issues, their relationship issues...basically centuries of hang-ups remained. If they were the result of not growing, she didn't want to delay any longer than she had to. And she could move on. With someone she loved.

Maybe her self-discovery process was over, maybe it wasn't, maybe it never would be, but she liked what she'd found so far. Plus, there was only so much doable solo; she wouldn't know if she could make a relationship work any better than her previous ones, until she gave another a chance. If she succeeded, that's when the process would yield proof, allowing her to safely say that she didn't have her very own, special, irreparable flaw.

For Faith, the trip brought similar thoughts, but the primary one was: Angel and Spike were going nuts because they couldn't be Buffy's anymore. She could. She nearly technically was. So what the fuck was she doing? Doubts or no, she couldn't come up with a great excuse. If they were perfectly honest with themselves, of course, they would see that they were already in a successful relationship. Subtracting the romance and the naked.

Then a week later, today, they were in the market, kissing by puffy snack food.

"I oughta thank the brat, then." Faith responded, draping an arm over Buffy's shoulders. She did enjoy nicknaming the young Summers.

At the backdoor, they saw that Giles and Dawn had gone out to the helicopter. They slid it open, realizing too late that a befuddled, German Shepherd puppy had been beside their feet. He ran into the yard like a bullet.

"Damn." Buffy frowned. Poor Firecracker. "What do we do about him?"

"Toss him a pipe and a lighter; won't even know we're gone."

"Gotta agree with my sister--that gets more and more disturbing."

*****

"You going somewhere?" Buffy's arms laid her arms over her chest as she queried Dawn.

They stood by the helicopters door, while Faith went inside to place the duffel in the large, passenger area and Giles chatted with the pilot of the transport helicopter traditionally used for troops, sometimes heavy cargo. The blades had silenced.

"Um, with you and Faith?" The teen thought that was fairly obvious. "Is that her jacket?"

"Oh no. You're staying here. For house-guarding duty. Which also kinda solves the dog-sitting problem." The blonde was pleased with herself. Never was a snag. "Except the longest we've been away from him is a couple hours max; hope he'll be--"

"I'm coming, Buffy. It's my choice." The young brunette firmly stood her ground, and the determination in her voice through off her sibling. "Since I'm almost eighteen and have a brain that's mine, I actually can do stuff like make life decisions. Nutty, huh?"

"Right. And this has nothing to do with avoiding a decision? About, say, college? Because if you're planning on dying while world-saving, trust me, it doesn't help. Besides, even if the world ends, you're still going." Buffy had recovered, and now Dawn was surprised. "What? You thought I couldn't tell? I'm both observant *and* caring." She half-smiled, lowering her arms to her sides. "I know Kennedy hurt you, so Boston and BC have sad associations now, but you got into other schools. Just...you can't wait too long, and I don't wanna see you make a mistake."

That's when Faith re-emerged, sitting on the helicopter's retractable steps. Firecracker trotted over to her, sat, and she pet him. The two relatives looked to her for support. She wisely declined. "Whoa, I'm sideline for this one. Free agent."

"Chicken." Came the simultaneous accusation.

"Okay, yeah," Dawn admitted, resuming the uphill battle, "that's a big part of how come. I have no clue what I wanna do, and I'm scared and pissed off and it stinks. But staying here while you guys are three-thousand miles away, where you'll be in like, constant trouble, isn't gonna make things easier. I'll freak and be all stressed out." Then with a mix of mischievousness and seriousness, she said, "And the last time you tried to ditch me, Xander got electrocuted and I just got shin-happy. Might happen again, you don't know."

Cringed at the memory. "So this time you're gonna electrocute a puppy instead, steal the car, and drive cross-country?"

"If I have to." Buffy looked concerned for her sister's mental health, and Faith took Firecracker into her arms, frowning slightly. Dawn gaped at their misconstruing of her determination. "Oh my god. I would never do that! Did you really...? You're sick." She rolled her eyes at them, exhaling. "But everything after, definitely. C'mon, Buffy, I helped in Sunnydale; I was all over research and intel. I was good at it, Giles even said."

Hearing his name, the ex-librarian began to inquire something, but Faith caught his eyes and wordlessly advised him against getting involved. Trusting her judgment, he didn't, pretending to clean his glasses. The once Key glared appropriately.

"Except we lived there. Sunnydale was ground zero for all things demon-y, and as much as I wanted to, we couldn't up and leave. Yes, you helped...because I couldn't trick myself into believing that I'd be able to keep you from the bad, anymore." The blonde still regretted that. "Coushoa's different. Vampires are like an endangered species, most of the demons are on our side...it's almost normal. We're going so that doesn't hafta change, and I'm not putting you in danger again. Plus, your gang's here. Of friends. It is a 'friend' gang, right?"

"Bosom buddies." Dawn joked, which again, people mistook for unclean talk. "Geez, not literally. We wear shirts practically on a daily basis; sometimes we even have bras on underneath. Cause we're contact-phobic. And why does nobody get me?" It wasn't her fault Buffy was going through a phase where every, harmless comment looked at through a sexual lens. Instead of bodies, they must've swapped libidos. "Anyway, still isn't your call. You're my sister…not my army colonel. I get the risk factor, but people I care about are gonna be fighting evil, and I don't wanna miss out. This isn't a 'Gen-X fogies' reunion disguised as a party for today's youth, meaning me; it's important, and I'd feel like a jackass playing XBOX at Jeff's house when I could've come and done...um, *anything*. Even a tiny anything."

"I'm not gonna win this, am I?"

"Zero chance." At that, she crossed her arms, assuming a familiar, learned pose.

Buffy admired her sister's conviction and determination. She also had to respect her willingness to prioritize for the sake of the bigger picture, but at the same time, it saddened her--she didn't want Dawn in this life. There'd been worry about the thing with Kennedy, that pain would come, which happened. More so because of "slayer urges" and monogamy issues than the actual "calling" part, though specifics weren't an issue at present.

She backed off in August, gave her maturing sister space, and allowed the couple its run. The "Chosen" in her wrongly shouldered a portion of the blame, making her think maybe she should've said something. If she had, Dawn wouldn't be in this muddled headspace, questioning her future, and desperately wanting to head into chaos looking for direction and meaning. You didn't have to be involved in an eternal struggle to do something worthwhile.

The person in her, however, acknowledged that the thing with Kennedy was a bump in the road of growing up, and eventually could be seen as a beneficial experience. Plus, even if they were still together, Dawn most likely would have the same hesitations; that was normal for a graduating, high school senior. Buffy only wished Los Angeles hadn't gone crazy, so the teenager could've found her path in an equally normal way. Too late.

Dawn was as stubborn as she was. It was out of her hands.

"Research and intel *only*. No being in the line of fire, no dying. You got me?" She laid out plainly, resigning to fate. She was hugged. "And hey! Giles will forever be the sole fogy of the group."

"Thanks, Buffy." Dawn said with sincerity. "And now that you caved, I take it back. You aren't fogies, and Giles is like 'Gen-Q.'"

"Yo, Giles!" Faith called to him from the steps with a grin, still with the dog in her lap. The Summers' turned her way. "Guess what these two are sayin' about you?"

"Come at her from the left; I'll take the right." Buffy said, and then both sisters ran for her. "Can't help yourself, can you?"

Right before they closed in, and before Faith could run, the puppy leapt from her grasp, surprising them all. He rolled as he hit the ground, and then galloped to neighboring friends Diana and Kaci, who'd walked around from the front of the house. Mother and daughter were a bit taken aback by the sizeable aircraft, but Kaci was soon distracted by Firecracker, so she knelt down to lavish him with attention.

"Hi, Firecracker!" The eleven-year-old giggled as he licked her face.

The 31-year-old Diana continued to the house's owners. She was taller than Faith by an inch, and shorter than Dawn by the same amount, so Buffy was still the shortest adult. Even Oz had her beat. Their neighbor had shoulder length, light-brown hair, a kind, soft face, and blue eyes that were shielded by thin-rimmed glasses. She was dressed casually in jeans and a T-shirt advertising Jamaica and its rum, despite never having sampled either.

Her daughter, who was chasing the canine around the yard, would look very much like her as she grew, only her hair was longer and a little wavy; freckles dotted her nose, and her eyes were a darker blue. Almost violet, inherited from her father. She wore a purple T-shirt with flowers on it, the majority of which was covered by overalls. Considering her parents had gotten their divorce finalized only a month before Buffy, Faith and Dawn moved here, they thought she was amazingly well adjusted.

"Let me guess--I'm better off not knowing?" Diana asked lightly, as Giles came to join them.

"Probably." Buffy conceded, with a smile very lacking in mirth. "What're you guys doing here?"

"Dawn called me. She said it was last minute, you had to leave town for a while, and asked if we'd mind taking care of Firecracker. I told her we didn't, so here we are." Diana smiled. "Besides, everybody heard that," She gestured to the helicopter, "and Mrs. Cavanaugh would've sent me to investigate, anyway. Somehow whenever anything weird happens, I'm suddenly Coushoa's liaison with you three."

"See how responsible?" Dawn whispered to her sister.

"You sure?" Faith questioned.

"It's no problem really. I mean, you've been so good to us; it's about time we got to start helping out." The single mother assured her. "And Kaci loves him."

Giles made it a point to clear his throat, then.

"Oh, sorry. Giles, this is our neighbor, Diana Morgan, and--" The blonde began.

"--and that blur is my sugared up, angel child, Kaci." Diana finished and smirked, extended her hand. "Nice to meet you, Mr. Giles. Glad there's finally a face to go with the name."

"Likewise, Miss Morgan." Giles shook her offered hand, and spoke warmly. "From what I've heard, I honestly think they wish they could adopt your daughter." He laughed. "But please, call me Rupert."

"Or just 'Giles.'" Dawn interjected.

"Then I'm just 'Diana.'" The woman said, beginning to grin. "And as far as I'm concerned they can have her. Sure, she's a charmer in public, but at home it's a whole different story."

Kaci listened to this, stopped running in circles, and stomped her way into the conversation, indignant. "Mommy!"

Faith scooped her up, and sat the girl on her shoulders. "What's up, Kace?"

"Not much. I went to Carrie's house today; we made posters for our rooms with glitter and stuff." She answered, sticking her tongue out at Firecracker, who sat there wondering how she got so high. "So are you really getting in that thing?"

"Yep. We're comin' back soon, though." Positive face for the kid.

"In time for the fair, right? Cause you said, and you gotta see it. It's so fun."

"We're gonna try our best, honey." Buffy promised. "It sounds awesome."

"Can I..." Kaci didn't want the others to hear what she wanted to say next. "Can I tell you and Buffy something? Before you go? It's kinda private."

"Course ya can." The brunette slayer led them away from the others who thought it was just a kid thing, and her partner followed.

They heard Dawn say, "Ooh. You should tell Giles about your bookstore; he used to be a librarian."

"Oh, you own a bookstore, Diana?" After that, they tuned them out.

"They better not be flirting." The blonde whispered, shuddering. "He's a couple decades too late, for one thing...and it's just wrong." Fogy indeed.

"I dunno, B. He's got that somethin'..."

"Eew." Both Kaci and Buffy echoed.

Faith chuckled. Once satisfied with the distance, she bent down to let the girl hop off. She stayed crouched, her girlfriend standing behind her, who was at least taller than their pre-pubescent friend...though that wasn't much to be proud of. "What's on your mind, kiddo?"

"I think...I think I'm like you; I think I'm like a lot of other girls." Kaci said quietly, and burying the fear was a strong sureness in her voice. "Who get rid of vampires." She clarified.

The slayers both mentally sighed; they knew this was coming, but they really wanted to miss the mark. This was a formality, but Buffy had to confirm. "Why, Kaci?"

"Because, um, when I'm sleeping? I dream about them. I think." That pretty much did it. "Sometimes they're wearing different clothes and have funny hair like my mom used to have, but I don't know where they are. I know it's not Coushoa, though. Sometimes it's a super long time ago, even a desert, and the girl has paint on her face. She's mean." She paused a second. "I've dreamt about you a couple times, too. Once was outside a school, then one time you were in a big cave fighting guys that looked like they were from the Lord of the Rings movies. But I'm not watching like a movie, I'm in it. Fighting." She stopped, looking to them for answers. "So am I really a vampire slayer?"

"Yes, you are." Buffy told her honestly, and her personal 'issues' no longer seemed dire.

"Then I have to come."

The way she said it, it wasn't with excitement. It wasn't a, "Yay, I can kill monsters!" voice. It was very focused, very matter-of-fact. She didn't understand the risks, the sacrifice, the danger, on an intellectual level, she couldn't. But Kaci felt it in her bones--she was a slayer, it was her job to protect people, and it was a calling she couldn't ignore. The history was there, the connection...they just had to look into her violet eyes to see the truth. And for that moment, the child became old. Too old. Which is what they were afraid of.

"The strength's not there yet." Faith explained, having to tell her no. "In a few years you'll be knocked flat by it, but till then, ain't a smart move, Kace. You don't wanna tackle vamps unless your body's ready for the ride; and it'll tell you when, count on it."

They had another reason to go--to make sure it didn't spread here not just for themselves, but so Kaci wouldn't be forced into that situation at this age, and before she was prepared. Buffy especially identified with her, being that both their fathers deserted them after a messy divorce. Kaci's moved to New York City and sent checks when required. He clearly wanted nothing to do with his daughter, which Buffy hated. From down deep in her gut.

Having been through enough already, the blonde wasn't exposing this sweet kid to slaying for a long while; she deserved to finish the remainder of her childhood in relative peace.

"When we get back," Buffy continued, "we'll keep training, and we'll talk to your mom about everything. Giles, too. But don't tell her, because she'll just get upset and have a bunch of questions, okay?"

"Okay." Kaci nodded. She was disappointed, but handling it with respectable maturity.

"But hey, if something happens while we're gone, nothin' probably will, but if?" Faith added as she thought of it. "I want you to watch out for your mom. First rule of slaying is 'Don't die,' so get her out of the house, run as fast you can till you think it's safe, or get in the car and drive, whatever...just hide, and call us on my cell. Buffy, is it in a pocket?"

The blonde checked the jacket. "It's here."

"You know the number?" The Bostonian asked Kaci.

"No, but it's on our fridge." Came the reply.

"Memorize it. Slayers're everywhere, so when you call, we'll send the close ones to bail ya out, and you do anything you have to, to stay breathin'. Got that?"

"Got it." Kaci then had an idea. "Couldn't we go to Marg's? I like Marg."

Marg was a friendly, local M'Fashnik demon who'd given up the violent, mercenary lifestyle. He and Faith played pool every Friday at the tavern, as that was her day off. But he spoiled Kaci whenever they brought her to visit.

"Yeah, he'd help in a heartbeat." Buffy agreed.

"All right," Faith smiled, raising her hand, "high-five seals the deal." As Kaci completed the move, Firecracker's paw hit the back of her hand. He'd snuck up on them. He seemed to know when he was needed to lighten the mood. "Watch out for this, too. Make sure he eats. Don't let him run the show." She scratched the sides of his neck.

As much as she teased, she dug her dog. She didn't want to leave him, but he was in good hands.

"One scoop at breakfast, one scoop at dinnertime." Kaci said, having fed him before. "Don't worry, he's always nice to me." Then she gave both slayers hugs. "So are you kissing yet?" They didn't have to answer; they were blushing. She grinned. "Oooooooh."

"Beat it, squirt; we'll be there in a sec."

When Kaci started jogging back with Firecracker, Faith stood.

"Remember at the store when I said destiny wasn't avoidable?" Buffy asked her rhetorically. "I think I jinxed us."

Ignoring the battle that awaited them, what were the odds that in the place they'd moved to get away from destiny, they'd be neighbors with a soon-to-be slayer? Free will be damned.

"We'll be standing at the end." The brunette slayer said, hopeful. She put her arm around her partner's waist, and they walked. "Wanna give Marg a head's up?"

"Good idea." Took out the phone and dialed.

After that was done, thanks, goodbyes, and promises to water the plants were exchanged, and just like that, they were above their version of perfect. They stared down longingly, trying to keep it in their minds as fuel while pretending to not see an upset Firecracker, craning his neck to watch them fly off.

"You have a lovely home, girls." Giles complimented them.

"We know." The trio said in unison.

"And Diana seems--"

"Stop right there." Buffy warned.

There was a brief, awkward silence before Dawn wondered, "Any news on Angel or anybody?"

"Ah, yes, actually. Gunn and Wesley were discovered not too long ago. A report came in over the pilot's radio; that's what we were discussing in the yard." Giles said, somberly. "They're dead." It was here that Faith would've hit something, but she was working overtime to make it a quiet moment. "The good news is, Willow believes Angel and Spike are still alive. Or undead, as the case may be."

"Where are they?"

*****

With a final swipe of his sword, Angel lopped off the dragon's head, and all he could do was cling to scales at it crash-landed on the soil of its home dimension, hoping he didn't break every bone in his body. If he risked looking back, he would've seen Spike lose his grip on the tail, falling hard to the ground below. Which would've caused a smile. He picked himself up once the dust cleared, feeling rather proud and victorious.

Though that was shot seeing the bleached vampire lift his head up several yards away. "Bugger." He massaged his neck and laughed. "Well, that was a kick, wannit?"

"Why are you even here?" Angel questioned, annoyed.

"Right, like I was gonna let you have the big, heroic cliché all to yourself? Not bloody likely." Spike slowly got to his feet, groaning. "We ensouled vampires have to stick together. And share. Good thing I came, too. Softened him up for you proper."

"You did *not* soften him up." The grandsire argued, now at 'pissed.' "You were barely hanging on."

"That's your problem, Angel...ego. Always has been."

"Shut up, Spike!"

It was bad enough he was stuck in the dimension where the Wolf, the Ram, and the Hart resided, but now he was stuck here with Captain Peroxide.

...to be continued...