*****

The summer was almost over. Actually, in Sunnydale, it would officially end tomorrow when all the kids would be going back to school, back to 'the routine'. Usually, around this time every year, I'd be feeling that certain mix of dread and depression with the tiniest dash of expectation as the day loomed ever closer. This year though, I felt none of that. But the truth was, I wasn't feeling much of anything lately. I think I could pinpoint the exact moment when inconsequential things like school and sleeping no longer meant anything to me. Even though it was my senior year and I should have been excited about picking colleges and looking towards my future.

I wasn't.

There was a very simple explanation for this. One that my mom knew about so at least I didn't have to explain my sudden and intense malaise. But she didn't really know exactly how deep it went. How could she when she didn't know the whole story? I wondered idly if she would freak had she known the truth. You see, the truth is that the love of my life had just been ripped away from me and if that sounds a little over the top and melodramatic, something straight out of the mouth of a teenager, I don't care because it's the truth.

I didn't lay in my bed all day with the curtains drawn and country music playing on the stereo. The only reason I didn't though was because I didn't want to be alone in a place where every little thing reminded me of Faith. So I didn't spend much time at home anymore. Not if I could help it. Mom noticed but she didn't say anything about it. I knew she missed Faith too but we never actually sat down and talked about what we were feeling. If we did, I don't think I could stop myself from crying once I started. That's the funny thing. You would think I'd have cried but I haven't.

Not once.

It's not like I didn't feel like crying a lot of the time but it's like there's a dam blocking the tears from falling. And along with the tears, my emotions seem to have been shut off behind a wall that I can't break down either. Maybe, deep in my heart, I didn't really want to put in the effort because if I didn't acknowledge it, it wouldn't hurt so much. At least that's the theory. And as most people know, theory and reality aren't always one and the same.

I raised my head up, feeling the blazing sun scorch my skin and melt my thoughts away. Then it got to be too much and I lowered my head again. Like I said, I didn't spend much time at home anymore. Most days, I spent it in the park, just like I'm doing right now actually. The day after Faith left, I was just wandering around and somehow, I ended up here. It was peaceful and most important of all, it let me concentrate on other things outside of my own problems if only for a few minutes and only to stare indifferently at the children playing around under their mothers' watchful gazes.

Xander and Willow tried cheering me up but their forced brand of cheer only made me want to escape more. To keep them off my back, I told them all I needed was a little time so they gave me that for a day or two after which they'd be on my back again. They just didn't seem to realize that I didn't give a shit anymore. And when they made a big deal about it like they kept doing, that would make me just want to retreat from them even more.

Night was a little better because at night, I had a purpose. And that purpose was basically to kick as much demon ass as I could aim my foot at. It wasn't as much fun without Faith and the easy banter we always shared on patrols but if I didn't do something at night, I seriously think I would have gone crazy within a few short days. There's only so many hours in the day that you can spend brooding before you just want to do something...*anything*, even if it's just walking around looking for trouble to find you.

And whenever I do find it which hasn't been very often because for some reason the vamp activity dips down during the summer, I lose that part of myself that always wants to be in control. And I don't just lose it, I toss it out the proverbial window because in some way, beating some vamp senseless makes me feel closer to Faith. I think I'm even beginning to understand her unrelinquished joy when it comes to fighting for the sake of fighting. It's a high, a rush that I've only let myself experience in its most watered down form before. But now...now I can't seem to get enough of it.

"Hey Buff." Xander came out of nowhere, sitting on the seat next to me. Why couldn't they leave me alone and accept the fact that I didn't want to be around anyone? "I knew we'd find you here," he said after I didn't answer his greeting. Willow came up and sat on the other side of me, in effect flanking me. I wondered if they planned it that way.

"So what are you doing?" She asked, smiling as she looked at me expectantly.

I suppressed the sigh that wanted to rip out and answered as civilly as I could. "Sitting and staring."

"Wow, fun as that sounds," Xander said with a goofy grin, "Why don't we all do something together. Maybe something that involves a little more..."

"Activity?" Willow helpfully supplied.

"Exactly. Well, what say you Buffy?" I was just about to give him an unequivocal no when he interrupted. "Oh, did I tell you? We won't take no for an answer." That's when the sigh made it past my lips. I knew they were just trying to help but...it really wasn't helping.

"Come on Buffy," Willow started to say. "We know how lousy you must be feeling. We feel the same way. Faith was our friend too but you can't keep dwelling on it. She isn't gone forever and you did say she promised to come back."

"I know," I said, wishing that it did make me feel better. A year --- that's how long I have to wait. I've started counting down the days, the hours and even the minutes until her eighteenth birthday. And it was starting to drive me up the wall. It just seems so futile and such a long time until I could see her again. She said she would be back and I trusted her but what was I going to do in the meantime?

"I'm betting ice cream will cheer you up," Xander said, breaking into my chain of thought. "Couldn't hurt. And anyway, do you guys realize that this is the last day of our freedom? For tomorrow...we learn." He said it in such a ridiculously somber way that I couldn't help chuckling weakly at him which earned me a full out grin. "You see, I knew we could cheer you up. So how about it, Buffy? One last hurrah for old time's sake?"

I shrugged, finally giving in and letting them first drag me to get the promised ice cream and then to 'find the cheer' as Xander put it. And, at the end of the day, I surprised myself, realizing that I did indeed have fun. Not a lot of it but still more than I'd had in what felt like the longest time. So by the time I went on patrol, I almost felt normal again. Of course, normal in Sunnydale is a relative term. For instance, what 'normal' teenager spent their nights wandering around cemeteries with a stake in their pockets? I can count the number on one hand and still have fingers left over.

I was making my way through the second of the cemeteries on my route when a noise caught my attention. Immediately snatching the stake from out of my pocket, I waited, every nerve ending tense and every sense attuned for anything that didn't belong.

"It's just me," the familiar voice called out from the bushes a second later. I relaxed, lowering the stake as Angel came out to stand there in his usual black ensemble. The disappointment that I hadn't found a real threat must have shown on my face because he asked "You don't want to see me?"

"No, it's just that...I was hoping I could get a little action tonight." I replaced the stake in my pocket and turned, knowing that he'd follow me. I'd seen him a couple of times since coming back to Sunnydale and strange as it might sound coming from a Slayer, I liked his company. If the Watcher's Council could hear me now, I think they'd choke on their tea. But at least with Angel, I didn't have to maintain a front. I didn't have to repeat how fine and dandy I was every five minutes.

"Things *have* been a little slow," he admitted, walking beside me.

"Yeah, what is it with demons anyway? Do they all go on vacation or something?"

"You could say that," he answered thoughtfully. "Even demons need to get away sometimes." I looked over at him and he looked right back at me. No matter how hard I've tried, I could never read what he was thinking and the same held true now.

"Why do you do it?" I suddenly asked, needing to know what made this vampire tick.

"Do what?" He asked in the same exact monotone he used to say everything.

"Why do you help me? You're a vampire. You're supposed to want me dead. You're supposed to kill and murder and maim with abandon...but you don't."

"You really want to know?"

"I wouldn't have asked if I didn't."

He came to a stop and faced me, steadily gazing into my eyes as if he was gauging exactly how sincere I was. I didn't flinch away from the intensity suddenly aimed at me, placidly returning his gaze.

"I did do all those things," he finally said, seeming to have come to a silent decision. "Kill, murder, maim. I've done it and a lot worse. I'm sure you know some of it already." I nodded, remembering what I'd read about Angelus in one of Giles' old books. He wasn't kidding when he said he'd done a lot worse. "I've done things that will plague me for the rest of my life, things that haunt me every time I close my eyes. And I'd still be doing those things if it weren't for a gypsy's curse. You see, they gave me back my soul and, in addition, the guilt of over two hundred years worth of death on my hands. So you want to know why I help you? I help you to atone for myself. I help you to wash the blood from my hands."

I stood, looking at him as he finished with something akin to compassion stirring in my chest. I couldn't even imagine what that must be like, to live, knowing that you'd spent centuries doing evil. How could you ever make up for that? I silently watched as he looked away, his gaze landing on everything but me.

"You're on the right path," I said, bringing his attention back. "You're not that demon anymore and at least now, you're trying to atone."

"But it'll never be enough," he said, echoing the thoughts in my own head.

I didn't try to contradict him --- they were all words anyway, flung between us and meaningless. The only thing that counts in the end is what you do. So we continued walking, making our way through the rest of the cemeteries in and around Sunnydale and even though there should have been some tension between us after we had that little talk, there really wasn't. Not in any vastly noticeable way. We didn't find any vamps that night but that didn't come as much of a surprise. By the time we got back to my house, it was around 2:30 in the morning --- still early by my standards, at least for the last couple of days but tomorrow was a schoolday after all. That early wake up call was going to be a bitch.

Standing underneath my window, I motioned uncertainly inside. "You wanna..."

"No. That's all right," he said, already turning away. "Maybe next time."

"Maybe," I mumbled, watching him disappear into the night before climbing up the tree that conveniently deposited me inside my room. I changed and immediately went across the hall to Faith's room. I'd discovered very early on that sleep was something frustratingly hard to come by and it only came, if it came at all, surrounded by Faith's comforting presence, however superficial it was. I wrapped myself in the sheets that still had her lingering scent on them and closed my eyes, immediately picturing her in my mind.

I wrapped the sheets tighter.

****

I turned my head away from the speck that was coming closer, growing larger in the hazy, rolling heat. I knew who it was already. It was the maid --- can you fucking believe this shit? I've got a fucking maid. Yeah, at first I couldn't believe it either. I couldn't believe it when the driver took me from Buffy's house to the airport where I met up with Sara to board a private jet. But it's the truth. Up till then, I hadn't even thought about where we were going to go. I'd just assumed that we were still going to be living somewhere in California. A ten hour flight kinda put an end to that assumption. I mean, there's no way we could still be in California unless we were doing circles in the air for all that time.

I'd never been on an airplane that long before --- hell, I'd never been on an airplane period. It's kind of a drag. You can't really walk around and stretch your legs --- well, you can but walking back and forth in a two by four space made me dizzy. I don't know how Buffy does it...there I go again. I'm thinking about her. Shit, I'm always thinking about her and it's driving me up the friggin wall that I can't see her. I can't even talk to her cause as far as I could tell, there ain't no phones around this place. I don't even know where this place is. All I do know for sure is that there's water everywhere I turn. That's the definition of an island, isn't it?

The maid was standing next to me now, wiping a hand across her sweaty brow. I looked up through the dark tinted lenses of the sunglasses, only able to make out her dark shape hovering over me, back lit by the glaring white sun. She wasn't some French maid you see in movies wearing fru-fru dresses and carrying a feather duster. No, this woman was built like a truck, efficient as hell and a wearer of orthopedic shoes. You know you don't mess with anybody wearing those ugly ass shoes.

She spoke in some language I didn't understand, a language I couldn't even begin to place with a particular country. When she first rattled off words at me in that strangely, rhythmic rapid-fire pace, all I could do was stare at her, wondering if there wasn't something wrong with my ears. Then she spoke again and I realized I was in deep shit cause obviously, she didn't speak English and I didn't speak whatever the fuck her language was and Sara sure wasn't helping cause as soon as we'd boarded that plane, she'd started popping pills and was now loopier than a roller coaster ride.

Yeah, that's right. I've discovered that my mom is a damn junkie. She can't go two hours without popping some prescription drug into her mouth. I guess spending nine years in a mental institution will do that to you. And what the fuck was I supposed to do? I'm supposed to be her daughter, right? I'm supposed to help her. But the thing is, she's a stranger to me. I don't know her, I don't love her, and a piece of paper that says I'm her blood ain't gonna change that fact.

The maid's talking to me again, gesturing back towards the way she'd come. I think her name's Mara but I'm not going to swear to it.

"All right, I get it," I said out loud. "Lunch, right? I'll be there in a minute, okay?" She still stood there, a hulking shadow looming above me. "Go!" I shouted. "I told you, I'll be right there." She finally nodded and left, trudging clumsily through the pure white sand in her black orthopedic shoes that I'd only ever seen nurses wear.

As soon as she moved, the sun again found its way onto my face and as I stared up into its too hot, too bright face, I wondered what Buffy was doing then. I know she said she'd wait for me, whatever that means to a seventeen year old but I wondered if she knew what that meant. A year...a year was a long time. And it wasn't just her, it was me too. I didn't know how a year would change me. Would I be the same person I was now? I honestly believe that I would still love her --- there's no way I wouldn't...but would it still be the same?

I sit up, removing the sunglasses and squinting as the brightness of everything around me made my eyes hurt. I stare out at the crystal blue water, knowing that a lot of people would call this place paradise --- a friggin tropical paradise. But would they still feel the same if they didn't have a choice about being here and there was nobody to talk to, nobody at all? This wasn't paradise. This was a fucking jail cell with a better view.

I finally tore my gaze away from the hypnotizing rolling of the waves and got up, dragging the beach towel behind me as I made my way back to the house. I walked for about ten minutes until I spotted the very top of the house. The house wasn't really a house. It was more like a big ass mansion. And the mansion sat atop a hill like a king on a raised dais, surveying his domain. I also have a couple of other names made up for it. Eyesore is probably my favorite. It's just so friggin huge, like it was plopped down by a child who didn't know where else to put it.

The mansion had red orangey tiles, white walls, and floor to ceiling windows on the ground floor. It had green clinging ivy growing up the front of the wall which kinda made it look a bit more decent. There were wide stairs cut right into the hill which led up to the big double doors that could have easily let a car pass through. There were a lot of other smaller houses bunched up at the base of the hill which I think the servants lived in. Sometimes, I wondered if these guys missed their families or even if they had families in the first place. I couldn't exactly ask cause of the language barrier but I hadn't seen any kids since I'd been here.

Now that I think about it, I really hadn't seen many of the servants either. I knew they were around cause I could sense them, I could hear their feet shuffling across the Spanish tiles. And anyway, it's got to take a lot of people to run this place. But so far, aside from Mara, I'd only seen one or two other people, not including Sara. Whenever I catch a glimpse of them, they'd smile, mutter something I couldn't understand and then they'd turn and walk away. It was almost like they were trying to avoid me.

I pushed open the front doors, taking a moment for my eyes to adjust from the almost blinding light that was outside. The foyer could probably fit Buffy's whole house and still have room left over. That's how monstrously big this place is. I really don't understand why anyone would want to build something so huge. What's the point? It's not like you really need this much space to be comfortable. In fact, it's actually kind of uncomfortable to be surrounded by so much nothingness.

I dumped the towel by the door, knowing that someone was going to come and pick it up and walked towards the dining room. One thing I can't complain about is the food. They feed me three square a day and I don't think I've ever eaten better in my life. Breakfast, lunch and dinner are served like clockwork --- each dish neatly laid out on the table by the time I come in. The dining room was basically a big hall with a long table in the center --- you know the kind, an updated, modernized version of the tables you see in medieval castles. There's twenty chairs all around, including the ones at either end and I always eat at the head of the table. Makes me feel all important and stuff.

The windows looked out to the sea, just like every other room in this place. The water sparkled with sunlight playing across its surface, drawing my eye again. It really was beautiful and who would've thought I'd be living in a place like this. God, it feels so much like a dream sometimes, a dream that I go from wishing I'd wake up from to one where I thought I could stay forever. Bringing my eyes down again, I look over the selection of food they'd prepared today. Bowl of cold soup, salad with croutons, bread, cheese and a glass of wine.

Like I said, it's the nicest I've ever eaten in my life. I dig right in, not waiting for Sara to show up cause if she hasn't already made an entrance, she wasn't going to. I didn't know what her deal was. She tells me she wants to know me better, be a mom to me again but as soon as we get to this place, she holes up in her room. Yeah, we did get to 'talk', if that's what you want to call it, the first couple of days we were here. But they only lasted around fifteen minutes and most of the time was completely occupied by dead air and an awkward tension so thick, I almost choked on it.

I finally asked her straight out on the third day why she even wanted me here. It was wicked obvious she couldn't give a flying fuck either way. She looked me right in the eye and told me it was cause I was her only daughter and she wanted us to be a family again. Basically the same shit she's been dishing since day one. Fine, if she wants to keep sticking to that lame line then I'll accept it but when I ask her about calling Buffy, she's all evasive, saying how the phone lines are down or some other bullshit. And she seems so fucking stoned most of the time, it's not even worth arguing with her about it.

I finish off the soup, pass on the salad and take the bread, cheese and wine out towards the back where there's a backyard as big as a football field. I walk over to the big tree whose leaves overhang the edge of the hill. I think this is my favorite place on this whole island. Sitting down, leaning against the tree, you get a view of everything, including the mainland where we had to board a helicopter to get over here. It doesn't look so far away from here, almost close enough to touch. Sometimes, I daydream about swimming there, just leaving this place behind and taking off. But I don't even know where I am, much less how I could get to California from here. Cause that's basically what it boils down to. How do I get back to California? Back to Buffy?

I bite off a big chunk of the bread, slowly chewing it as I gazed off at that little bit of land floating on top of the water. After taking a gulp of wine, I breathe in deeply, taking in the warmth and clean scent in the air. There are no monsters here. No vampires terrorizing the night. No big evil brewing in the dark corners. No excitement at all.

I missed the fight, the adrenaline kick as I went face to face with a suck ass vamp who wanted nothing more than to tear open my throat. It might sound like I'm crazy but if you've never done it before, you don't know how addictive it becomes. And, of course, I miss patrols the most cause that's the only time me and Buffy can totally be what we are --- Slayers. We were in our true element. We *were* creatures of the night and what we did --- well, that was pure cat and mouse, seek and destroy, hunting. Buffy never thought about it like that but that's because she's who she is. But I was dark enough for the both of us.

I still remember the last time we went on patrol together. It was in LA actually, a couple of days after we first got there. We were both feeling it, the restless energy that eventually drew us outside. There weren't words to describe it. We acted like one that night. We hunted, we stalked, we killed and it was so beautiful how fluid we were. I missed that so much that I sometimes dreamed about it --- not just Buffy and me being together but the way we moved together. *That* was poetry in motion if ever there is such a thing.

I closed my eyes, imagining it now in my mind in the lazy, hazy afternoon. And I must have dozed off sometime later cause when I opened my eyes again, the sun had already set and the stars were out. I wondered vaguely why Mara hadn't called me in for dinner like she usually does but I used the opportunity to gaze up into the sky, looking at the stars through the leaves of the tree.

It was awesome. You know those shows you see in planetariums when you're a little kid where they show you how the night sky might have looked like two hundred years ago? This beat that by a mile. There's just so many lights up there, sparkling, twinkling, however you want to describe it, it's incredible. Just looking up makes you feel like you're insignificant, a small speck of nothing living out your life in the blink of an eye. Or it makes you feel like you're a part of something so much bigger than yourself that you can't even take it all in even if you live till you're a thousand years old. Whichever way it makes me feel, it all depends on my mood at the moment.

I suddenly wished Buffy were here to see this with me and since she wasn't, that bought me crashing back to earth. I got up and trudged back to the house which was lit up like a christmas tree. I was so fucking caught up in my own thoughts that I didn't notice the sound of the helicopter until it was almost directly overhead, stirring up the wind and whipping my hair around my face. It was probably a hundred feet up and coming down slowly. I knew there was a helipad on the roof of the house and it landed there a couple of minutes later.

Was this the mystery man Sara said she was going to marry? I'd been surprised he wasn't here in the first place but I guess he was home now. I continued inside, not entirely sure about what to expect. If this guy thought I was gonna kiss his ass just cause he was stinking rich and about to be my future stepdad, he was gonna get a nasty surprise. Then again, maybe I could finally get some answers on the phone issue. I mean, a guy like him's got to have an actual working phone, right?

I walked through the back doors and towards the front entrance where the grand staircase was located and I heard something I hadn't heard for days. The sound of people's voices...that I actually understood. I looked up, seeing two people walking down the stairs. One of them I recognized right away. It was the skeezy lawyer guy, Howard. The other person though I couldn't place. He was stockier, taller. He had black hair, a tan, a full beard and for some reason, I kept thinking this must be what a sea captain looks like. Kind of weathered, hard bitten. But instead of a skipper's uniform, he had on a tailored dark blue pinstripe suit that framed his body and made him look almost elegant.

I stopped at the bottom of the stairs waiting for them to get down. I was about to open my mouth and say something but the words froze in my throat as soon as he turned towards me. His eyes seemed to lance right through me, pinning me to the spot. And I couldn't move. I couldn't move a fucking muscle. I'd never seen that color in anyone's eyes before. An ice blue, almost clear. Like crystal and just as hard. The rest of him was normal but those eyes...they weren't.

And they continued looking at me until he brushed past me followed a moment later by Howard who had a smirk on his face as he looked my way. I couldn't keep the shudder from running down my spine and I closed my eyes, trying to get my nerves under control again. I heard them walking towards the right wing of the house and their steps echoed through my brain like the sounds were bouncing around the inside of a large cave.

****

I hefted the sledge hammer that some vamp had been kind enough to bring in with him before I'd staked him through the chest. The fang gang had decided to dig up the Master's skeleton, hoping to revive him from the dead or where ever he was now. Needless to say, they hadn't been successful. I walked up to the still bloody skeleton on the raised dais and stared at it. What I saw wasn't just a pile of bones. I saw the fear in my own eyes right before he killed me. I saw my mortality. I saw the dreams I'd had every night for weeks on end.

And now I saw pulverized powder as I lifted up the hammer and brought it down again and again, crushing the bones beneath the heavy iron. When I was finally done, when there was nothing left but splinters, I let the hammer drop, staring almost disbelievingly at what I'd done. But I didn't feel any remorse for my loss of control. Instead there was only exhilaration. I allowed a grin to slip across my face as I turned to everybody else in the room who either had stunned expressions or no expressions in the case of Angel.

"Wow," Xander said, clapping his hands together in a sign of finality. "I guess he won't be rising again...ever."

"And if he does, " Willow added, "He won't be looking too good as a pile of goo."

Giles took a step forward, glancing at the Master's remains. "A job well done, I'd say." That was about as good a compliment as it got coming from him and I smiled wider, taking it for what it was worth.

"I think a celebratory night of Bronzing is in order seeing as how we put down the Master *again*," Xander said, hooking an arm across Willow's shoulders. "That is if it's really safe now."

Giles nodded and volunteered to stay behind to clean up which earned him some silent appreciation from the rest of us. I took one last look at the remains of something which had haunted me for so long before finally turning my back on it for the last time and following my friends out of the cavern.

We walked into the Bronze just as the band on the stage was starting up a new song. It was crowded tonight and I started to get into the mood of the hectic energy and pace running through the atmosphere which mingled nicely with my own high after the fight. It didn't take me long to notice how hyped I got every time out. It was like this spring inside of me had been loaded and now I was just waiting for it to pop back up again. And the only person who could know exactly how I felt right now wasn't with me.

I couldn't sit still. It just wasn't in me. I looked around the club, watching some people shuffling on the dance floor and I had a sudden overwhelming urge to be out there with them, just moving. I looked back to the three people at my table and made a quick choice. "Angel," I said, getting his attention. "You wanna dance?"

His eyes widened slightly, almost imperceptible if you weren't looking for it and then he nodded. I stood up, taking his hand and leading him out onto the dance floor. I wasn't sure how long it had been since the last time he'd danced --- was dancing even very important in vampire society? --- but he looked really awkward at first, as if he were trying to remember where to put his arms and feet. Finally, after a few wince inducing moments, I took his hands in mine and moved us closer, showing him the rhythm and letting him follow along. By the end of the song, we were moving together almost smoothly and I silently congratulated myself for being such a good teacher.

But before I could get a bloated head, someone bumped into me from behind and when I turned around, I got a faceful of attitude in the form of Cordelia Chase. She didn't even bother acknowledging my presence as she somehow managed to weasel her way in between me and Angel.

"I don't think we've met," I heard her say with saccharin sweetness and I couldn't help rolling my eyes as I made my way back to the table, not bothering to call her on her manners of lack thereof. Angel was on his own as far as I was concerned because I didn't much feel like dealing with the self anointed queen of Sunnydale right now.

"Hey guys, why are you just sitting here? Go out, dance, have a little fun," I said, sitting down and sipping from my water bottle.

"We are having fun," Willow said with a secretive grin.

"Yeah, your little dance with fangboy was very entertaining," Xander added, with a quick glare to where Angel and Cordelia were still talking.

"So?" Willow asked impatiently.

"So what?" I asked, utterly confused by what she was getting at.

"So what about you and Angel?" she asked, grinning again.

"What about me and Angel?" I looked over at Xander, hoping he'd clue me in on what she was talking about but he was staring just as intently at me and I couldn't help feeling a bit unnerved. "What are you guys talking about? As far as I know there is no me and Angel." I almost laughed at the thought of us being an item of conversation but they didn't seem to be finding it as funny as I was. "Come on, he's a vampire," I said, thinking that that was the end of it.

"Yeah, but he's...hot," she continued, glancing towards Angel again.

I did laugh then, watching as my innocent little Willow checked out a guy for studliness. She was growing up so fast. "He's not exactly my type," I said with a grin.

"So what is your type?" Xander quickly asked. "I mean, just for future reference of course."

I hesitated, wondering if this area of discussion was really a wise one to get into. But the words just seemed to tumble out of my mouth before I really even knew what I was saying. "My type? A little on the wild side. I like them with an edge. I like them strong and beautiful. I want someone who I can trust with my life and with my emotions. To hold me when I'm scared and make the whole world disappear when we're together. I want someone who I can share my whole life with, every aspect of it." When I finished, I focused on the faces of my two friends who were almost gawking at me at this point. "What?" I asked blankly.

Xander seemed to shake himself out of his stupor first. "That's just...really specific."

Willow nodded along. "Kind of." Then she knit her brows together. "It almost sounds like you have someone in mind. Do you?" She asked, watching me curiously.

I looked away which wasn't such a great move since they seemed to take it as an admission. I couldn't think of anything else to say. I think I must have been blushing because I could feel my cheeks beginning to burn up.

"Come on Buffy. Spill. If Faith were here --" Willow immediately clamped her mouth shut. "Sorry."

"Why are you apologizing?" I asked, wondering at her contrite attitude. "Faith isn't a hands off topic. She's very hands on..." After reviewing that statement in my own head, I think I blushed a deeper shade of red. "I mean...well, you know what I mean."

"It's just that we know how you get whenever we mention Faith," Willow said after a significant pause.

"What do you mean?" I asked even though I already knew the answer.

"Somber, moody, depressed as hell, on the verge of tears...Ring any bells?" Xander asked in his usually blunt way.

I took another sip of water, more as a way of buying some time than from being truly thirsty. "Faith's leaving was really hard on me," I finally said to the silent agreement of my friends. "I guess because we were so close...I mean *really* close." I had debated off and on about whether to tell them just how close we were but every time I got close to spilling the beans, I chickened out at the last minute. And now was no exception. "But that doesn't mean I want you guys to tip toe around the subject either," I continued. "So stop it, okay?"

Xander nodded. "Sure thing and since we're on the subject anyway, how do you think she's doing right now?"

I shook my head, staring at the half empty bottle in my hand. "I don't know. She hasn't called me yet."

"She hasn't?" I looked up, just catching Willow's furrowed brows before she composed her features with a less overtly worried expression. "Maybe she's just busy, unpacking and adjusting..."

"Yeah, maybe," I agreed, halfheartedly although I highly doubted that unpacking could seriously take two weeks. With Faith, it's more like two minutes. She just unzips her bag and dumps everything onto the floor. I grinned fondly at the memory of her messy, sloppy ways which inevitably led me back to my melancholy place. "You know what guys. I kind of feel like going home now." When they began getting up too, I motioned them back down. "No, you two stay. Have fun. I'll see you tomorrow." I gave them a quick smile and began walking out of the club.

"You want some company?" Angel slipped beside me, looking at me with an almost expectant expression.

"From the look in Cordelia's eyes, I would have thought she'd wrap you up for the rest of the night," I said, pushing through the club's doors and walking out into the night.

"She had a hair emergency."

"Sounds urgent."

"It was."

If I didn't know any better, I would have sworn I saw the smallest flicker of a grin on his face. But I shook it off. Angel expressing a sense of humor? That'll be the day.

"Where are we going?" He asked after we'd been walking for a few minutes.

"I'm going to do a few more sweeps around the cemeteries," I answered, my eyes scanning ahead, trying to pick out any vamp activity. The fact that I was patrolling with a vamp didn't escape my irony detector.

"You just foiled a plot to raise the Master. I think you've deserved some R and R."

I glanced over at him. "You don't have to come."

He remained quiet, continuing to walk beside me.

****

I sat straight up, my heart pounding in my chest a mile a minute as my eyes tried to focus in the dark room. I made an effort to slow my breathing, straining to hear the sound that had woken me up but there was nothing but silence, punctuated even more so by the soft lapping of the waves outside on the beach. I brushed back the covers and got off the bed, still trying to hear something...anything. It hadn't been a dream. I didn't know how I was so sure but I was.

The only light in the room was pouring in from the moon outside, casting a silver glow over everything. And it looked even brighter than it really was cause everything in the room was either white or pretty damn close to it. Made me feel like I was living in an old movie where they hadn't learned how to add color yet.

Whatever noise it was that had grabbed me like a fucking hand reaching into my dream didn't come again even though I waited for five minutes just standing in the middle of the room, listening for it. Finally, I walked towards the sliding doors which led out onto a small balcony and, opening them, I stepped outside into the humid air. Leaning on the rails, I stared out into the ocean which still looked beautiful, even at night. I think especially at night. There's just some peaceful vibe around the place that isn't there when the sun's burning up the sky, making everything look artificially sweet.

I know I heard something. And it wasn't just the sound of an alarm or a bird's cry or something cause I wouldn't have woken up, shaking from my head to my toes if it were. I closed my eyes, feeling the wind blowing softly across my face and thought about what I was doing here, out in the middle of nowhere. If I was going to wake up to some scary noise in the middle of the night, I wanted to wake up in Buffy's arms.

Fuck. I still hadn't been able to call her yet. I hope she wasn't thinking I'd forgotten her or something. That would totally go beyond suckage into the tragic territory. Howard kept promising in his slippery, greasy way that the phone lines would be back up soon but for some reason, I didn't trust the guy. Call me strange but lawyers just don't inspire much confidence in me, especially when they're beaming that smarmy smile while they're talking and playing with their gold pinkie ring the whole time.

And arguing with him didn't do much good. It's like insults rolled right off this guy's back. So basically, I'm right back where I started. I'm stuck on an island with no way out, no way to contact anyone on the outside, and no one to talk to. No one I wanted to talk to anyway. I was seriously beginning to wonder if I could swim the distance to the mainland. Cause if something didn't change quick, I sure wasn't going to stick around just so I could go slowly insane.

It's fucking funny you know? Here I am surrounded by beautiful things and I couldn't give a crap about any of it. All I wanted was to get away. Screw the clothes, screw the house, screw the food, screw the scenery. It all meant nothing to me if my heart was breaking every second of every day cause I couldn't have what I really wanted.

I wanted Buffy. Plain and simple. That's all. And if, by some miracle, a fucking angel suddenly appeared out of nowhere and said they could make my wish come true, you'd see me with my knees on the floor, begging my little heart out.

But no matter how many crazy thoughts and daydreams run through my brain, I know none of them will ever pan out cause if I ever did manage to run away and get back to Sunnydale, they'll just come looking for me again. And they have the money, the power, and the law on their side to make life miserable for Joyce and everyone else I cared about. That's what Stepano had said in his own measured, expressionless way as he talked about the quality time me and Sara were going to have together, like it or not.

Stepano.

Now there's one guy you don't want to be meeting in a dark alley. Not even a light alley. It's the eyes. It's his freaking me out, scary as hell eyes that frighten the piss out of me. Every fucking time he looks my way, it makes my skin want to crawl off my body and make a run for it. That's why I try to avoid him. Not too hard actually, especially since there are so many damn rooms in this place that I can just duck into one of 'em if I hear him coming.

But the more I think about it, the more I wonder if I'm the only one who sees it. Am I the only one who's doing an Edgar Allan Poe? And if I am, then what the hell is wrong with everyone else?

I take one last look at the stars and go back into my room, making sure to slide the door shut behind me. The noise didn't come back for an encore performance. At least I wasn't woken up again and the morning just made it seem like a bad dream. Maybe it was some bad cheese. Whatever it was, I'd almost forgotten about it by the time I'd finished eating breakfast.

As usual, I was alone in the dining room. Even though Howard and Stepano were around, they never came around when I was eating which was good cause I seriously didn't think I'd be able to stomach anything if they were. But just when I was polishing off the last of the pancake, using the last piece to mop up the syrup, the sound of patent leather shoes striking the tiled floors made me look up.

Howard strolled into the room, something between a smirk and a grin across his face. "Morning."

"You noticed that too, huh?" I smirked back at him as I got up, ready to motorvate.

"You don't like me much do you?" He suddenly asked in the same tone of voice you'd use if you were ordering from a menu.

I shrugged. "What's there to like?"

He chuckled, moving closer. "You need a friend right now, Faith."

"Are you volunteering?" I asked, breezing past him towards the door.

"Maybe not a friend then. Perhaps an ally."

I hesitated at the doorway, wanting very much to tell him to screw himself but at the same time, wanting to hear what he had to say. "What do you mean?" I asked, finally turning around to face him. Whatever he had to say, at least it might be amusing.

He was wearing a grin like he'd just gotten away with something as he sidled up to me. "Things around here are about to go to hell real soon," he whispered, his lips inches from my ear. "And when that happens, I just want us to have a mutual agreement in place. If you watch my back, I'll watch yours."

I ignored how his aftershave was making my nose itch and asked, "What's going down?"

He pulled back, giving me a shit eating grin. "You'll know it when it comes." And with that touch of wisdom, the smug bastard walks out. But he did leave me with something to think about. Something was going to happen and Howard was offering to help me out. Things were getting interesting.

But if Howard was thinking he could play me like a puppet, I'd just have to show him I wasn't his fucking Pinocchio. Shaking off his slimy afterglow for now, I left the dining room and started towards my room. The sun was shining like it always was and I was developing a wicked nice tan from spending so much time lying on the beach. If it wasn't for the fact that they had no TV's around this place, I would've been a spud lying on the couch instead of a beach bum.

As I was walking down the hall towards my room on the second floor, I had a strange urge to drop in on Sara. I couldn't even call her mom in my own head. It's always Sara. And before I could think about what I was doing, I walked in her room, closing the door quietly behind me. Her room was alot like mine, only...fluffier and rufflier. It's kinda ridiculous how many ruffles they could cram into one room, even though that one room is huge and everything in it is on the same scale.

The dresser's huge, the closet's huge, the mirror's huge. And the bed she's lying on like an over-the-hill, exquisitely medicated ex-porno star, is also huge, making her look tiny and shriveled in comparison. They say the apple doesn't fall far from the tree so what do I have to look forward to? If this was it, I might as well kill myself now.

"Faiii--aaaa--thhh," she says, drawing out my name into three syllables. "Baby, come here."

I go over, sitting on the edge of the mattress and look at her. She was still young. Fuck, she was just thirty four. What the hell was she doing lying in bed, night and day like a cripple, fucking up her head with drugs?

She took my hand and stared at me with a glazed over expression in her eyes. I waited for her to say something but she just kept petting my hand and staring back at me.

"So...how's it going?" I finally asked. Can you say awkward?

"I'm feeling very good," she said with an innocent smile. "Especially since Stepano's come back."

"Yeah, about him. How did you two meet anyway?" That part always bugged me. How in the world did a rich bastard like Stepano meet my mother, the former mental patient?

For a brief moment, I got a glimpse of something intelligent sparkling in her eyes before it was gone. "I don't remember," she said in a dead voice. "But I'm very happy with him. I love him."

"Right," I said, removing her hand which was clamped on mine like a bear trap. "I'll just..." I motioned to the door and left as she stared glassily after me. Well, that hadn't been too productive. It made me sick in a way just seeing her like that and I had to wonder what she was like before all this, before she had me. She must've had dreams, hopes, and all that other nice shit that you have when you're young and the whole world hadn't turned mean yet.

Listen to me. I sound like a jaded, bitter old woman. Hadn't wanted to sound like that till I was at least thirty. At times like this, there's only one way to get my mind back on track and I stride towards my room again with a purpose. Walking in, I moved towards the closet which is about as big as my room back in Sunnydale...no, make that bigger. At first, I'd just dumped my stuff on the floor like I always did whenever I got to a new place. But then Mara or whoever had taken everything and hung it up which really looked pathetic cause my shit doesn't even take up a fraction of the space inside this closet. Then two or three days after I got here, new clothes began appearing. It was like the clothes fairy had visited me during the night. And this kept happening every other day since then till the closet was almost half full.

And most jaw dropping of all, the clothes were all decent. Not one pastel number hiding in the mix. But I didn't reach for any of the new clothes as I passed them by. Instead, I took down my jogging outfit --- Sunnydale H.S. T-shirt and shorts. Yeah, they're only clothes but they're clothes that remind me of what I have waiting for me if I just make it through this year, this month, this day.

Stripping off my clothes, I slipped on the familiar gray cotton uniform which smelled of fabric softener and left the room, jogging all the way outside. This place had just about everything you could want but it didn't have a track so, basically what I did when I wanted to work out was run around the entire island as many times as it took to get me heaving and covered in sweat.

No better way to spend the day.

****

I just had the strangest dream.

Like most dreams, --- most dreams I have anyway. I'm not vouching for anyone else. --- I didn't even know it was a dream in the beginning. I found myself just standing. It was almost like someone had slapped me in the face when I finally realized that I was standing on the beach with no friggin clue as to what the hell I was doing there or how I got there in the first place. You'd think I'd remember something important like that.

I kept thinking that maybe I got up that morning, ate breakfast and came out here to get out of the house for awhile. Or maybe I was taking a swim in the afternoon heat and then came back onto shore to dry off. Like I said, I had no friggin clue. And as I looked around, I knew that something was totally off. Everything was fuzzy around the edges but sharply real at the same time. It was a fucking trip. The cool wind was ruffling my hair but I couldn't feel it.

And the color kept fading in and out...of everything. The sky, the ocean, the sand, the trees, the grass --- it was like trying to get reception out of on an old TV. And the switching back and forth gave me a godawful headache. Can you even get a headache from a dream? I never did before. As I reached up a hand to massage my temple, I looked up and realized I wasn't as alone as I thought I was. Sitting just a few feet in front of me and making me wonder how I could've missed her before, was some blonde sitting in the sand with her back turned towards me.

"H-Hey," I called over, still getting used to the freaky color transitions.

For the longest moment, the woman doesn't even move and I begin to wonder if she heard me at all. Then, cool as you please, she turned around and I almost choked even though my mouth had gone bone dry cause the face I saw looking back at me, smiling at me was Buffy's. Yeah, I knew I had to have been dreaming then but I didn't give a shit. Buffy was there, she was with me again, and so what if she was like everything else in this place and her color kept fading in and out. I'll take Buffy anyway I can get her.

"B, fuck am I glad to see you," I said, crouching down and grinning at her like an idiot. I reached out a hand and cupped her face. "I've missed you so much. Everything's fucking bland without you."

She didn't say anything as she cocked her head, closing her eyes.

"What's wrong?" I asked, seeing that her smile had turned into a sad wince.

Her voice sounded hollow and soft when she finally talked. "You didn't call. Why didn't you call?"

"I wanted --" Her eyes opened, focusing blearily on me. "I want to, B. You don't know how much I do but they keep giving me the run around. It's like I'm in a damn prison."

"I'm forgetting, Faith."

I dropped my hand to my side. "What? What are you forgetting?" I asked, my eyes drawn upward for a second as I noticed that the day had changed to night all of a sudden and there was a full moon hanging in the sky. The colors were still fading in and out but it wasn't as noticeable anymore.

"I have to be with *someone*."

I shook my head, frustrated that I couldn't understand her. "What are you talking about? B, who are you going to be with?"

"I love you," she said, casting her eyes down. "I always will."

"Great, cause I love you too. So what's the problem?"

She just stared at me with a bone deep sadness in her eyes. I was going to ask her again what she meant but then this high pitched whining, shrieking sound came out of nowhere and I had to cover my ears, completely missing what she was saying. And here I am now, sitting up in bed, my heart beating a mile a minute, trying to figure out what the fuck it was that had woken me up so suddenly...again.

This was the second time. Until now, I'd written off that first time I'd woken up with my heart in my throat as some kind of a fluke. But twice wasn't a fluke. Twice was a pattern. And twice meant I had to shake myself out of this panic mode I was in and find out what the damn noise was. So I threw off the covers and hopped out of the bed with my mind totally set on checking out the rest of the house. Only I couldn't cause, as I found out by yanking on the door, the sucker was locked.

The thing that really shocked me though was that it still didn't open on my second try. Usually, I couldn't stop things from breaking cause I kept forgetting my own strength. But the door didn't budge. I slammed my hand against it in frustration and it didn't sound right --- it didn't sound like wood. I hit it a couple more times and got a wicked sore hand in the end but at least the door was now open. The lock was broken but at least it was open.

I took one last look at my room and then walked out. I didn't really know where I was going. I just hoped the sound would come again or there'd be some other clue to let me know what was going on cause I was getting tired of all this mysterious bullshit. The halls were all dark but that didn't bother me as much as the total quiet did. I walked towards Sara's room and placed an ear to her door, listening for a minute but I heard nothing. I was debating whether to go in when the noise came again.

Unlike all the other times, I wasn't asleep when the noise hit so I could really listen to it. It started out as a barely noticeable high pitched whine in the background and then turned into something far louder. Something between a scream, a yell, and a growl. I wasn't even sure if it was human. It was so distorted, full of rage and pain. I've never heard anything like it before and just like the first night I'd heard it, I knew that if I could help it, I really didn't want to hear it again.

How could anyone not wake up from that? It was a hell of a lot more powerful than an alarm clock. It seemed to last much longer than it did even though it was only about five seconds later that it completely stopped. And when it ended, my ears were ringing with the silence that followed which, strange as it seemed, sounded even louder than the actual noise itself. But I still couldn't hear anything from Sara's room. Not that it was really all that surprising though since she was probably medicated up the ying yang.

I wasn't real sure where the sound had come from but I thought it'd come from downstairs somewhere so I headed towards the staircase. The shadows from the window panes were thrown across the stairs, squares of light painting the steps and I almost went down but something stopped me. Some gut feeling that I shouldn't, coming so strong that I actually backed up.

I looked around, almost sure that something was lurking in the shadows, ready to jump me. But there wasn't shit. Just more darkness, more silence, and more of a creepiness factor every minute I stood there doing absolutely nothing. I decided to head towards the other side of the house instead of going to the ground floor --- not that I was scared or anything...shit, maybe I was. Just a little.

I was kinda hoping that investigating the other half of the house first would settle me down a little, make this feeling go away. Of course I felt scared some of the times. Who doesn't, right? But that doesn't mean I like it or I'd live with it.

Howard and Stepano's rooms were on this side of the house. Don't ask me why Stepano doesn't sleep with Sara. The only reason I know he doesn't is cause she told me one time, for no good reason at all, that she slept alone. Didn't seem like she was too broken up about it either. It was just like she was reciting a fact.

So I headed towards Howard's room cause I figured if he wasn't the one making the noise, he'd be the one to know about it. I tried the doorknob. It turned easily in my hand and I wondered what was with the double standard. Why was my door locked? More importantly, why wasn't his? I mean, give me a break, who was more dangerous here, me or a sleazebag lawyer?

The door opened, not making a sound as it swung on its well oiled hinges. The bed was in the middle of the room and I could see a lumpy shape under its covers and a painting hanging right above it that looked godawful even in the semi-darkness. It was just a white canvas with blobs of paint thrown over it for all I could see but there's no accounting for taste.

The lump on the bed didn't move as I walked closer until I was standing right next to the head of the bed and staring at Howard's peacefully sleeping face. I spent a couple of minutes just staring at him. Whoever said there was no rest for the wicked was way off track cause the proof was right in front of me. Obviously, he hadn't woken up to the noise like I had which was weird cause it had been real loud.

I reached over, placing a hand over his nose and mouth. It was only after a couple of times that he tried to breath and couldn't that he finally snapped his eyes open, flailing around like a fish out of water. He tried throwing my hand off but that wasn't gonna work. After a while, he quieted down some.

"You're not a screamer, are you?" I asked, conversationally.

He seemed to consider the question for a second and then shook his head no. I slowly took my hand away and smiled when he sucked in a deep breath. He looked warily at me as he shrank back, seeming to shrink into the bed itself.

"What are you doing here?" He finally asked, getting up on his elbows.

"I wanted to ask you something," I said, getting to the point.

"Trying to suffocate me is a weird way to start," he said, looking at me with a hard stare.

I smirked. "I hope you know I don't do this to just anybody."

"You hate me that much, huh?"

I just smiled at him.

"So what did you want to ask me about?"

"A noise." He stared blankly at me. "How could you not have heard it? It was so fucking loud."

He shook his head. "I've been sleeping like a baby --- that is, before someone started choking me...I didn't hear anything."

"It was something between a scream and a yell. You sure you haven't heard it? I know I heard it a couple of weeks ago too but I just thought it was a bad dream until I heard it again tonight. Twice."

He quirked an eyebrow and asked in a condescending tone of voice, "I don't know what to say to you but I didn't hear anything. Are you sure you didn't dream it?"

"You know what?" I blew out a frustrated breath. "Forget it." I walked out of the room, leaving him still sprawled on the bed.

*****