“Okay,” Dawn said nervously from the living room sofa, where she sat with Willow, across from Xander in the armchair. Her young eyes were wide and apprehensive as she looked to her sister’s friends, who had over time become her own, in spite of the age difference between them. “And we’re thinking this is a *good* idea for Buffy to go out there by herself because…” She shook her head, her voice trailing off as she looked to them for explanation.

“Buffy’s the Slayer,” Willow said softly, reaching over to place her hand on top of Dawn’s. “She can handle herself. She’s killed hundreds, maybe thousands of vampires, she’s stopped the world from ending. *Multiple* times.”

“Not a lot of people that can say that,” Xander interjected, giving her an encouraging look as he nodded.

“Right,” Willow looked at him as she spoke and then back to the increasingly frightened girl. Her heart went out to Dawn. They all knew that Buffy could not just lie back and do nothing about Faith, but that did not make it any easier for Dawn, who had already lost both her sister and her mother in a single year, to watch her sister walk out that door again and know that it was possible that she might never come back.

“Buffy can handle herself, Dawnie,” Xander said, his voice soft and even, but full of assurance as he looked her directly in the eye. “I’ve seen her fight, and she can beat Faith, she can beat anything that attacks her. She’s gonna be okay.”

“Okay,” Buffy announced, coming down the stairs pulling on her jacket as she spoke, a little breathless in her excitement to put her plan into action – or possibly just to start the slayage. “Time to go kill some bad guys.”

“Yeah,” Xander said. “And make one evil, psychotic Slayer really, really pissed off.” He was smiling, having fallen back into his usual pattern of joking to cover up for the intense feelings surrounding them, but she could see the worry in his eyes.

“That’s fine,” Buffy declared, meeting his eyes confidently. “That’ll make two of us.” She frowned slightly, realizing exactly what she had just said. “Except for the…evil… psychotic…thing,” she corrected. Then her smile returned, cold and determined. “I can’t *wait* for Faith to come after me. I am going to have so much fun just kicking. Her. Ass.”

At exactly that moment, the doorbell rang. They all looked at each other, more than a little apprehensive. It was 7:30, and already dark outside. The chances of it being anyone human, and their having made it to the door alive, were very slim.

Unless of course…

“Dawnie,” Buffy said, her voice low and even as she stepped slowly toward the door. “Go upstairs, honey.”

“No!” Dawn protested immediately, her voice trembling as she stood up, glancing with wild, fearful eyes between her sister and the door. “Buffy, don’t open it!”

“Go upstairs!” Buffy snapped, turning toward her, and her tone was an indication of her own fear. Not for herself, because she was certain that, especially in her current frame of mind, she could take on whatever came her way. She was more afraid for her little sister and her friends.

Taken aback by her sister’s harsh tone, Dawn reluctantly obeyed, hardly taking her eyes off the door as she did so, however, and not going any further than the top of the stairs.

No sooner had she disappeared from sight when a loud crashing sound drew Buffy’s attention back to the door…to see that it had been forcefully kicked in, and was hanging by a single hinge, splintered beyond repair.

A pretty, dark-haired girl with dark lipstick and an arrogant smirk on her face stood in the doorway.

“And I’m guessing you must be Faith,” Buffy said, a cool smile on her lips, her expression not revealing any fear she might have felt.

“Good guess,” Faith said, her smile widening as she stepped through the door, revealing Spike standing behind her. He came forward as if to enter, and found himself stopped by the barrier of the disinvite spell Willow had performed immediately after Joyce’s death.

Buffy gave him a cold, angry smile, her eyes flashing with fury and menace strong enough to make him wish for a moment that the barrier worked both ways. “Looks like this is gonna be a one-on-one match, Spike. Sorry,” she smirked.

Faith laughed. “I like her,” she announced, sounding surprised as she looked back to Spike. “She’s got style.” She looked back to Buffy, her tone and smile still keeping up the pretense of civility. “Sorry ‘bout your door, B. Got just a little impatient.”

Buffy shrugged. “No big,” she replied. “I know what that’s like. I’m a little tired of waiting myself. Let’s do this.” Her expression hardened as she adopted a fighting stance.

“Aw, come on, B,” Faith argued with a mockingly wounded look. “I thought we could talk this over, you know? We could do the whole girl talk, sharing thing? I could tell you how miserable and traumatic my childhood was and why I’m such a bad girl now…and you could bawl about your poor mommy for a little while. Sound good?” Her smile was vicious as Buffy flinched slightly.

A part of Buffy’s mind knew that she was only trying to get to her, and told her not to let it work. But the insensitive reminder of what she had lost sent a new stab of pain through her heart, and she fought back tears that sprang to her eyes.

“That’s it, bitch,” she announced, her voice trembling with rage. “You’re going down.”

“That’s really original…Buffy,” she spoke her name for the first time, her tone mocking it with her tone and her smile. Then her smile faded into a menacing look as she took a step toward Buffy, preparing to fight her, and added, “But I think I thought of it first.”

And with that the dark Slayer lunged at Buffy…and chaos took over.

Willow and Xander just backed off, trying to stay out of Buffy's way as the two Slayers went into battle. They realized, wisely, that attempting to help her would only make matters worse. Faith lunged at Buffy, knocking her backward onto the stairs, slamming her fist into her face. But Buffy grabbed a handful of Faith's dark hair and yanked her head sideways, knocking it against the banister with a sound of splintering wood. The banister gave way under the force of the blow, and Faith pulled Buffy down with her onto the floor among the broken pieces.

Buffy got to her feet first, as Faith was still a little stunned by the blow to the head. By the time she had gotten up, Buffy was ready for her and met her with a hard punch to her face. Faith recovered quickly, however, and came at Buffy with a series of quick, sharp punches and kicks, backing the Slayer toward the front door.

Buffy's eyes widened as she suddenly realized why she was doing it. Spike was outside, unable to join the battle at the moment for lack of an invitation into the house. If Faith could get Buffy outside, it would no longer be a fair fight. It would be Buffy against Faith *and* Spike. She spun around quickly, and Faith moved with her so that now Faith's back was to the door.

The fight went on for a little while with no apparent end in sight; the two were almost perfectly matched. Both were strong, aggressive and skilled warriors. But gradually, Buffy seemed to be gaining an advantage. Faith was clearly beginning to tire -- and Buffy was as determined as ever to take down anyone responsible for her mother's death.

Finally, Faith stumbled, and Buffy took advantage of the opening, lunging at her and knocking her to the floor beneath her.With a desperate burst of strength, Faith threw her off of her, over her head, and Buffy landed on the porch on her back. She scrambled to her feet and turned to go back inside, not because she was afraid, but because she was not finished with Faith. But a strong hand caught her arm and slung her back around, throwing her off the porch into the grass.

Spike.

Buffy felt a rush of adrenaline in anticipation of fighting him, her eyes glittering with a savage light as she rose quickly and launched herself at the blonde vampire heading toward her. He aimed a punch at her face, which she easily avoided and countered with her own. The powerful blow rocked him backward, and she took advantage of it to land a couple more solid blows to his chest and stomach. While he was still recovering, she lunged at him and threw him to the ground under her, straddling his waist and pinning his arms at his sides with her powerful thighs.

She shrugged. "This works," she smiled down at him as he shook his head to clear it, a little dazed. "I'd rather be fighting you anyway."

He smiled, recognizing his own words coming from her lips, but instead of responding in turn as she had expected, he said in a lowered voice, "Well, actually you were my *second* choice, pet."

She drew back a bit, surprised -- and strangely offended. "This is gonna make me feel *so* much better!" she informed him, taking her stake from her back pocket.

His eyes widened slightly, but he gave no other indication of fear as she raised the weapon over his chest. He smiled boldly up at her, and she found herself for some reason hesitating, even before he spoke.

"Maybe. Won't help you find you mum's killer, though, pet," he said softly, careful to keep his voice outside of anyone's hearing but hers.

She froze, stake poised in mid-strike. Her eyes narrowed and she gripped the collar of his coat in one hand, holding the stake to his chest and yanking him up toward it. He winced slightly at the pressure, as she demanded coldly, "What do you know?"

She was infuriated when he just laughed at her. "We've been here, done this, pet. Doesn't work that way, remember?"

"What I *remember*," she countered, pressing the stake down harder, "is that you never got a chance to answer my question last time. You were too busy running away like a...a little...scaredy...baby," she struggled to find a suitable thing to call him.

A single, sarcastic raised eyebrow was his only response to her poorly worded insult.

Suddenly, Buffy felt herself being pulled away, off of Spike, and before she could react she was thrown a few feet away onto the grass. Buffy looked up to see that apparently Faith had recovered, because she was now standing between Buffy and Spike, who was slowly rising to his feet.

“Hey!” Faith said in a voice of mock reproach, her dark eyes dancing with laughter. “Get your own vampire! This one’s mine!”

Faith’s back was turned to Spike, so she missed the disgusted look on his face at her belittling comment.

But Buffy didn’t miss it.

A smirk came across her face as she pouted mockingly, “Aw! But I always wanted my own pet vampire! Why do *you* get all the cool stuff?”

Spike gave Buffy a venomous glare for a moment, before a smirk began to slowly spread across his face, and he responded softly, “You had one once, remember, pet? All soulful and domesticated?” His eyes narrowed and his smile became cruel as he added, “You’ve got to be careful with that particular breed, pet. Sometimes they turn on you.”

Buffy felt a dark fury rising up in her at his pointed comment, painfully bringing the memory of Angel and all of the pain of the previous year back to her mind. Her green eyes glittered with hatred in the moonlight as she glared at him, trembling with rage.

“I’m going to kill you,” she informed him in a voice of quiet surety. It was not a threat; it was a statement of fact.

“Took the words from my lips, pet,” he replied, not bothered in the least.

There was a moment’s silence as they stood there, each of them taking in the stand-off they had found themselves in, Buffy facing Faith and Spike, no one moving. Buffy and Faith had proved to be perhaps *too* equally matched, at least this time. Each was exhausted, and neither felt confident that they would be able to beat the other right at that moment.

For his part, Spike did not doubt his *ability* to kill Buffy, despite the fact that she had bested him within seconds the last two times they had fought. He just didn’t *want* her dead. It didn’t suit his purposes.

At least not yet.

“This isn’t over, B,” Faith told her, smiling calmly, breathing hard with exertion from the fight. “You’d better watch your back, Sweetie. Cause sooner or later -- *you’re* the one who’s going down.”

Buffy did not respond, not willing even to acknowledge Faith’s threat. She just glared at the other girl with a challenge in her eyes, as Faith turned her back and started to walk away.

Spike stood there for another moment, just looking at her, as if he had something he wanted to say – but he didn’t speak a word.

“You’d better go,” she told him, her eyes wide and innocent as she nodded toward Faith. “Looks like she’s leaving you. Wouldn’t want that.”

He gave her a patronizing smile, as if he thought her intended barb utterly immature, and as if it did not bother him in the least, and then turned to go without a word.

“Run along home, like a good little pet,” she added slyly, watching for his reaction.

He stopped suddenly, his back to her. He didn’t move, didn’t speak, and she smiled in triumph, very pleased with herself. That last comment had gotten to him – bad.

He was about to turn around and face her, fight her right then and there, rip that savage, vicious tongue right out of her pretty head, all his careful planning be damned! He was no one’s pet, and he did *not* have to put up with her…

“Hey! Let’s move it, Baby, come on!” Faith called from a little ways down the sidewalk, her tone commanding and impatient.

Behind him, Buffy snapped her fingers a couple times and made a soft whistling sound, like calling a dog. He felt his face flaming with humiliation, and was grateful for the darkness that hid it from Buffy’s eyes.

Gritting his teeth, he forced himself to follow Faith down the sidewalk. This would be a bad time to anger her, right after the failure of her plan to kill Buffy, and actually killing Buffy would not be in his best interests anyway, no matter how appealing the idea seemed at at the moment.

Another, more realistic part of his brain reminded him that it was probably not even possible at that moment. As he had warned Faith, Buffy *was* at her peak fighting ability at the moment, due to the intense, passionate desire for vengeance that was driving her.

Taking her on right then would have been extremely stupid.

Against his pride, against his intense desire to do otherwise, he slowly walked down the sidewalk to meet Faith.