Harmony whimpered, rubbing her forehead with her palm, trying to keep from inflicting any more damage on her nails. "I'm telling Angel!" She pouted as she reached for the black phone, almost knocking over the bottle of nail polish remover.

"You do that." Spike dug in his pants pocket, pulling out a pack of smokes, pressing one firmly between his lips, his Zippo's flame rising to light the stick of nicotine. He knew Angel didn't approve of his smoking, even less when Spike did it in his office, but to hell with em'. He was the one stuck here with the bookworm and his own life sized Barbie doll complete with air between the ears, while he and Gunn went traipsing off to Fiji to kill some demon cult. If he didn't want his furniture smelling of smoke than he shouldn't have left Spike at home with the girls. His own bloody fault, Spike mused as Harmony finally picked up the receiver.

Spike lowered himself into Angel's favorite black leather chair, the one Angel had warned him expressively was off limits. He was just about to reach for an issue of Rolling Stone when he caught Harmony's recognizing tone. "Oh, it's you." She sighed, messing with her now stained top. "No, he's not here. God! What am I, his beeper?" Spike had to smile as he listened to the part of the conversation he could hear. "Keeper. Whatever." She rolled her eyes. "I told you, he's not here." Pause. "I dunno, some demon tropical thingie." Another pause. "I am only his secretary!" Harmony protested. "It's not my job to know where he is, or how to reach him, or when he'll get back! " There was yet another long pause in which Spike could make out the mumbling clucking noises over the other end. He almost felt bad for the caller... almost. He was evil after all, big bad and all that, and it was a rare treat to watch Harmony torture someone, other than himself that is. "Here." The blonde vampire trusted the black phone into Spike's grasp. "She wants to talk to someone else."

An annoyed scowl crossed Spike's face, as he squished out the cigarette on Angel's new desk. He had no urge to help these wankers. That was Angel's bit. He was only in this game for one reason and one reason only. "Hullo?" He brought the phone to his ear.

"Spike?" Came a familiar voice from the other end.

"Red?" Spike's eyes grew wide; he actually missed the witch. He missed them all, though he would rather stake himself than admit it. In fact he had been constantly questioning himself as to why he agreed to play nursemaid to a bunch of wankers, and work with the poof when he could be basking in the cloudy winters of Cleveland with Willow and the rest of the gang. Actually, he knew the reason, a certain smart-ass blonde slayer, one who would never love him as much as he loved her. "How you doin-" He stopped abruptly, mind traveling down the possible paths for Willow's call. "Wait, don't tell me this call is to warn me someone thinks we're betrothed, no Wind Beneath My bloody Wings?"

"Huh?" Willow was sure she missed a step somewhere.

Spike chuckled low in his throat; he could almost see Willow's face scrunched up in confusion, her eyebrows arching high. "No magic mumbo jumbo I should be worried about? No ending of the world? Random engagements?"

"Hey!" Willow cried in offense. "Is anyone ever gonna let me live that down? I mean sure, there have been like one or two-"

"One or two?" Spike interrupted, teasing her.

"Okay." Willow conceded. "So maybe there have been a few instances where things didn't go as planned! But there have been lots of times that things have worked out great! And- and to hear you talk you would think all my spells always go 'Ka-blew-ie!'" Willow paused when she heard Spike laughing on the other end. Out on the sidewalk, away from the noise, from everything but the chilling wind she let the horrors that were happening inside fall away. "And yes, there has been the occasional 'poofage' but that was before and now I'm like Super Wicca Girl."

Spike shook his head. "Be needin' a cape then, luv." Willow grumbled and Spike could almost sense she was trying to think of the best way to drive something sharp and pointy at him regardless of the miles between them, so he switched gears. "So...you lookin' for Angel?" He shifted uncomfortably in the Italian leather chair.

That brought Willow crashing back down to reality. She glanced guiltily at the door, she should not be wasting time, not when Buffy... She couldn't even bare to finish that thought. Willow, Super Wicca Girl she was, hadn't been able to do a thing for her best friend; in fact she was afraid she might have made it worse. "Yeah. Do you know how I can reach him?"

"No, Red. I don't. Left me here all alone with the girls." Spike answered truthfully, sitting up straighter at the seriousness of her tone and the small sigh she admitted at his reply. "Is somethin' wrong?" Fear coursed through his non-beating heart, Nibblet, Buffy, if anything ever happened to either of them he didn't know what he would do. Miles apart and to him they were his family, his purpose in his undead life, without them this would be pointless.

Across the country, a serious internal war raged within Willow, conflicts of the heart colliding against logic of the brain. She hadn't been so trusting of Spike when he came back to Sunnydale, all souled up, but she liked to think that was because of the First, and the control it had had on him. She had felt awful when he "died", not taking it nearly as hard as Buffy, Dawn or even Andrew, but she still felt his loss, the gapping whole that both Spike and Anya had left in the group. And then he was back, just like that. She was never really clear on how, or why he came back but his return was both unsettling and joyous. A part of her felt like telling him, just to make up for that evil little voice in the back of her head, and the part of her that knew Spike, that trusted Spike, wanted to keep it from him. No one should have to see someone they love go through this. Then why are you trying to find Angel? Her mind fired back. Shouldn't he be spared the sight too? If she was perfectly honest with herself she would admit it was because she was running out of options, they couldn't reach Buffy anymore, she wasn't altogether sure anyone could.

"Witch?" Spike prompted; the silence on the other end deafening. Spike had always loved silence, what with Dru's rantings all bloody day and night, silence became something to be cherished, worshipped even. Then one night changed everything, the night after Buffy jumped to save Dawn, the silence was horrible, filling his mind like a muffled blanket, ears aching to hear her heart beat. Now he understood why so many humans lived for noise, for sound. Because silence, to so many, was death.

The soft-pleading tone in which Spike had pulled Willow's mind back from its meanderings, had made her decision, it was like a bolt of lightening, and she just knew what she should do. She heard that unspoken question, knew what he didn't want to hear, what she didn't want to tell him. So she took a deep breath and did the only thing she could; she kept her mouth shut. "No, no." She shook her head, plastering a look of enthusiasm on her face as if he could see her through the phone line. "Everything's just fine and dandy. Yep," She overcompensated as she always did. "Everything is fine and dandy, and we're all eating candy. And wow, that rhymes! Dandy candy." She repeated, giggling nervously; secret keeping, not one of Willow's best accomplishments.

Spike sighed, knowing damn well what she was up to. "Pet, I know what's going on." Willow gasped unintentionally, cold Cleveland air filling her lungs with a sharp stab. "Don't worry, not gonna tell your little Scooby gang, but Red, you need to lay off the caffeine. Don't need you all twitchy when you’re doing that mumbo jumbo. Not exactly conducive for spell castin'."

Willow exhaled, not even realizing she had been holding her breath, she had been so close. "Yep, me caffeine, non-mixy. Bad, bad Willow! I have to go... and do penance and stuff. You know, for the caffeine, and the caffeine. And I have to go." She wanted off the phone as quick as possible, Spike was far too good at telling when something was up, and he didn't need to be here for this. He didn't deserve that kind of hurt, the kind of anger that builds, sparked by feelings of uselessness, and fed by the horror in Buffy's eyes. But she had called for a reason, Angel still might be able to help. "But ya know, if you hear from Angel, can you please tell him I called?"

"Sure, Pet. I'll make sure to give Nancy Boy the message." He was going to ask if there was anything he could do to help but a screaming chit in the background made him halt.

Amber, a fourteen-year-old slayer they had been training, swung the door open and nearly toppled over Willow. Her normally pale face was flushed red to match her curls that were pulled back into a high ponytail, her green eyes wild and frightened. "Willow!" She screeched, tears cascading down her cheeks, fear flooding from every pore on her body. "Call an ambulance! You need to call an ambulance!"

"What?" Willow grabbed the frantic girl's arm with one hand, her other, with the phone clenched in it, falling to her side.

"Knife!" The girl panted. "Blood... Oh God... So much blood... It's everywhere..." She was beginning to hyperventilate, ears flaming pink, fingers digging into Willow's arm for support.

"Calm down." Willow commanded, her own terror shining from her large orbs. "Breathe. What happened?"

Amber seemed to calm somewhat, breaths still coming in ragged pants, but her mind seemed clearer, the initial panic subsiding. "Buffy. She has a knife. She cut her arm. She's bleeding really badly. It's everywhere. And she's not making any sense again." Her breath hitched, a few double pants as she struggled to gain control over her body. Slayers shouldn't act like this, Buffy had always told her to keep a cool head.

"Where's the knife?!" Willow almost shook the poor child. There had been one close call before in which Buffy had cut deeply and repeatedly into her legs, the doctors had said it was a miracle she didn't suffer any permanent damage to her tendons, she had all but sliced through them. The three days Buffy was trapped in observation were the hardest ones Willow ever remembered, with the exception of the day Tara died. Buffy looked so hollow, so empty, staring at nothing. Not like Buffy at all, but some stranger, some weak child. Not her best friend, Buffy was always strong, Buffy had survived death twice, she had beaten the First, she wasn't weak. She was their leader. But then she seemed to do better, for awhile it was fine, and then came the crying at night, rants at the wall, conversations with no one, and then the screaming fits. Some days she was fine, she was Buffy, and other days... well, it was hard to tell who that girl was.

Amber winced at the pressure on her arm. Willow looked possessed, mad even. "Faith is trying to get it from her." She croaked.

Willow released her Vulcan death grip on the poor girl, dropping the cell phone in the process as it crashed on the cement, and dashed inside, hands held out as her mind sifted through spells of protection and healing. Amber began to sob furiously, convinced she wasn't strong enough to be a slayer, convinced her mentor was dying. She tried to think of what Buffy would do in this situation, she was always so calm in battle, so powerful, so strong. What would Buffy do? She sure as hell wouldn't sit by and watch, she would help, do something, anything. Amber noticed the small cell phone that Willow had dropped and retrieved it, intent on calling 911 when she heard a voice on the other end. "HELLO?!" It shouted at her. "ANYONE THERE?!"

"He-hello?" Amber brought the phone to her ear.

"What happened?" The petulant voice on the other end demanded.

"I-I can't talk right now." Amber said quickly. "Willow will have to call you back." And with that she hung up and dialed 911.

In an office twenty stories up, Harmony sulked. No one ever told her anything! Not to mention Spike had just run through the doors like a bat out of hell and didn't even bother to say he was sorry for her shirt! God, unlife sucked!

"Oww!" Faith cried, wrenching her leg free from the small hands that were holding it. "Watch it! That stings!"

"Baby." Replied Dawn with a small smirk as she twisted the cap back on the antiseptic and stored it safely in the first aid kit. "Ya know, for all that slayer healing, I think you are over reacting to a little cut." She glanced back down at the sliced open flesh of Faith's right calf. "It's hardly more than a scratch."

"A scratch?" Faith snorted, examining the deep stab wound. "Damn, B," She muttered to herself. "Always with the stabbing." Dawn looked at her curiously. Faith leaned against the old beige sofa that was littered with cigarette burns and smelled of sweat, rot and smoke. "Listen, Miss Muffet, if it wasn't for the healing shit I would have ended up in the back of that ambulance tonight."

Amber shifted uncomfortably. Faith, the whole group really, had not appreciated her call to 911. It was a family matter. They would handle it. None of them could bear her being alone again. Buffy needed them, maybe now more than ever. When the ambulance had pulled up, cops in tow, all hell had broken loose. Faith had managed to get the knife from Buffy, not without some personal injury, but at least she had it. Then the ambulance siren put Buffy into a state of shock, her rants died, she just froze. Amber was sure if Faith wasn't a good liar, and Willow one talented Wicca, Buffy would be restrained on a bed in some loony bin right now.

Amber wasn't the only one having a hard time dealing. Faith, who had become take-things as-they-come girl, was seriously unnerved. Buffy had gone after Faith; it wasn't just like before, this time, it wasn't random violence directed at herself or others. She had called Faith's name when she descended the stairs, crimson blood flowing down her arm, and dripping off of her fingertips with soft plops onto the smooth cement floor. She had actually chosen Faith. Explained in small rants how Faith wasn't supposed to be here, not while she was still here. One slayer dies the next one is called. It wasn't right. None of this was right.

Faith glanced up at the metal staircase and the small darkened office that they had converted into a make shift bedroom. The silence coming from that room was deafening. Buffy had long since fallen into a sleep of sorts, helped along by a little of Willow's fairy dust. It was unusual, the warehouse being so quiet. The girls were whispering in low tones behind a few sheets that had been set up to divide the space into more livable conditions for a bunch of girls who needed privacy, or as much as they could get with four cots to a sleeping area. The whole scene unnerved Faith, who was already on edge. Part of what Buffy had said made sense, but part of it she couldn't quite grasp, and she didn't know which was wigging her worse.

"I come baring magically delicious snacks!" Xander emerged from the open doorway that lead to a small kitchen, that is to say a microwave, a hot plate, fridge, and the George Foreman grill.

Dawn looked at his plate full of microwaved s'mores. "Wouldn't that be Lucky Charms? I don't think s'mores are really 'magically delicious.' They are more just 'messy delicious'." She reached and grabbed the nearest s'more.

"So you insult the chef and then still eat the food?" Xander asked in shock. "Something is seriously wrong here! Isn't there some rule about that sorta thing? And if there isn't, there should be. A big rule, in a big book, about insulting my cooking."

"He's got a point." Willow followed behind him, a large basin in one hand and several pouches dangling from the other. "Kinda that whole smack the hand that feeds you thing." Her brow furrowed slightly. "Except without him feeding you with his actual hands cuz, ya know, unsanitary."

"Hey!" Xander slammed down the plate of s'mores on the trunk they used as a coffee table. "I will have you know I just washed them!"

Kennedy appeared from behind one of the makeshift rooms, a few large volumes in her arms, which she handed off to Willow, who smiled sweetly in return. "When, last month?" She teased.

"Actually, last week." He amended. "And what is this? Kick the Xander day?" A small puppy dog pout formed on his lips as he plopped down next to Faith on the worn couch.

Faith snapped her fingers as if a light bulb had illuminated her thoughts. "Knew I forgot somethin! We can schedule one next week if that's good for everyone?" She began to playfully run a hand through Xander's hair but he discreetly pulled back. She couldn't blame him; there was a lot of history there, and sorely lacking in the good kind. When Anya died it seemed to take some of the fire out of him, but a small spark still ignited whenever Buffy entered the room. His eyes would light up, his posture improve, it was strikingly obvious that he still harbored feelings for her, ones deeper than friendship, but it was also blatantly ignored by the group. She wondered if they noticed how he had dimmed when Buffy started slipping, or if they just chose not to comment on it. She shook the heavy thoughts off and watched Willow sprinkle herbs into the water filled basin. "That for me?"

Willow nodded, red hair falling in her face as she held up one hand to silence the group. Deep guttural sounds, vaguely resembling Latin poured from her lips as the mixture began to boil, bubbles rising to the surface and popping, until the mixture turned into a green sticky paste. Willow said a quick prayer of thanks to Athena and started stirring the thick green concoction.

"How to make your own ooze." Xander commented, continuously impressed with Willow's abilities. "Now all I have to do is find me a few turtles." Amber raised an eyebrow at him. "Ya know, ooze, teenage mutant ninja turtles, that hot April chick?" It was clear that the 80's icons were either over their head or below their perception. "Damn. I hate being the only guy. Times like this I miss Andrew, he would’ve gotten it."

The words hung in the air, a dirty forbidden statement. They danced before Xander's eyes, hideous demons taunting him. Number one rule: don't talk of the fallen. It was an unspoken agreement and he had broken it. Bile filled his throat as he fought to push it down. They didn’t speak of those warriors past, of lives changed, they never played what if. There was no going back, there was only now, the problems of the past were to be swept under the rug, never to be unearthed again and they made believe that they could ignore it, with painted smiles, and forced laughter. They could be happy as long as they kept everything at a distance, never pulling it in too close, never inspecting the holes in the fabric, and Xander had just ripped one wide open, exposing what they didn’t want to see.

The air crackled with tension as Amber shifted her weight from foot to foot. Eyes pleading with him not to disturb her bubble of denial, to not disturb the past, to just let it be. She fought back the tears pooling in her eyes, blinking them away. The past was over and done, she told herself, don’t think about it. But what else could she do when Xander cast such a harsh light on it? She and Andrew had become friends fast. Amber was probably closer to him than anyone else; Andrew had treated her just like a little sister. She looked down at her hands, ducking her head as she vainly fought the tears that refused to be squelched. "Oh God," Xander stood, trying to comfort her, but she backed away a tiny step. "Amber, I didn't mean to-"

"No, no." She forced a smile on her face, plastic and artificial. "I'm fine. It's not a big deal, really." She had gotten a bit of a rep for being a crybaby and she didn't need anything adding to it.

Dawn smiled at her sympathetically. "Don't mind Xander. We looked into having his foot surgically removed from his mouth but the doctors said it was hopeless." She reached across Faith to grab another s'more.

"No," Amber shook her head, red curls bouncing. "It's okay really. I'm just kinda tired. I'm gonna go lay down." She started for the sheet drawn rooms, but stopped, craning her head to look at Willow. "You'll tell me if there is anything I can do? I mean to help Buffy- or anyone?"

"We will." Willow promised with a small sad smile. Amber reminded her so much of Tara, she was so sweet and shy, and struggling to belong. Amber returned the smile before disappearing behind the make shift curtain. "Poor thing." Willow murmured.

"Yeah," Xander agreed. "She just keeps getting attached to people who end up dead or..." Willow's stern expression told him if he valued his manhood he would keep from finishing that statement. Lucky for him Dawn provided the perfect distraction as she gobbled up the last s'more. "Hey! I was gonna eat that." Dawn just shrugged and stuck her tongue out at him.

"Not to get all self involved." Faith spoke up from her position between the two bickering children on the worn sofa. "But kinda in pain here." She gestured to her leg and the blood soaked bandage that clung to it.

"Oops." Willow's face fell, green eyes growing large with apology. "Sorry. Too many distractions." She sent a pointed look to both Xander and Dawn who were in the throngs of a glaring contest with one another, clearly pinning the blame on their foe at the opposite end of the couch. Faith didn't say anything as Willow stepped over Dawn's outstretched legs and sat on the trunk across from her, pulling the injured leg into her lap. "This might burn for a moment." She warned as she dug her hands into the thick broccoli green paste. Faith grimaced as she watched Willow lower her hands to her calf, a snide comeback falling along the lines of 'yeah more pain' came bubbling to her lips but she pushed it down. Her relationship with Willow was the most changed since she got sprung. The venomous hatred that had once flowed freely between the two girls had diluted to a mild dislike and a common ground. Slowly the tides of Buffy's situation had pushed the girls closer and for the first time Willow understood that in her own, albeit twisted, way Faith cared for the blonde slayer as much as she did. "Try not to, ya know, kick me." Willow asked of the strong brunette as she slathered the goo on her open wound.

She's trying to burn my skin off! Faith's mind decided as the scorching mixture was worked deeply into her skin by small, impossibly molten hot hands. Her foot jerked but she forced herself to stay still, hands clenched in tight fists around the moth eaten upholstery. Adrenaline pumped through her veins, her whole body urging her to fend off this attack, to leap from the fire that was dissolving her skin, dining on her flesh. Her breath hitched in her chest as she let it out through her clenched teeth, a sharp hiss that pulled Dawn and Xander from their childish feud. "Is she okay?" Dawn looked from Faith to Willow with saucer-like eyes. "I don't think she can take whatever it's doing."

Willow said nothing, just continued to rub the green goo into Faith's skin until it began to slowly seep into her flesh and fade. "Umm. Will," Xander spoke up as Faith grunted in pain, her eyes clamped tightly shut, her arms trembling. "I'm thinking this might be a good time for a little breather." Even Kennedy looked at her love with worry and doubt in her dark eyes. But none of them understood. None of them realized that to heal you must first go through the pain. But she did. Willow lifted her gaze to Faith's pain-ridden face. And she knew Faith realized it to.

Faith clenched her jaw as the waves of searing torture cascaded over her. At first she thought something must have gone wrong, either that or the Wicca had decided to work out some unresolved issues without telling her. But when Willow didn't stop she began to piece the puzzle together. Scattered images flashed through her mind, demons of nightmares past, meeting Buffy for the first time, the mayor promising he would never leave her, the man dying at her hand, Buffy plunging a knife into her gut, staring at her body from across the church, the look on Buffy's face as she stood in the middle of the LAPD. Twisted dreams, and haunting memories, pain that shook her very core, and then nothing.

Faith felt a wave of relief wash over her as though she had been doused with rainwater from the heavens. The pain was nothing but a distant memory, blurred and softened as though it had been a hundred years ago and not mere seconds. Her body uncoiled, relaxing as she opened her eyes and was greeted with several worrisome expressions, except from the witch across from her, who wore a trace of a smile upon her lips as she went about cleaning up. "You okay?" Kennedy questioned.

"5 by 5." The once rough slayer replied with a smile. She turned to the red head across from her. "Man, what the hell was that?" It wasn't accusatory; it was more like she had just been given her first drops of alcohol, excited, rebellious, and full of wonder.

"Healing." Willow replied with a smirk. For the first time, Faith noticed the gouge on her leg, or the lack of. The skin had mended, no soreness lingered, no scars, it was as if it had never happened. It was just healed.

Faith wasn't the only one who noticed the seamless results of Willow's spell. "Damn," muttered Xander as he bent to examine Faith's newly perfect appendage before looking pointedly at Willow. "You have a magic cure all and you didn't share?" They knew he was referring to the patch that covered the gapping hole where his eye should have been. His gaze bore through Willow, daring her to deny that there was a chance it might heal him, make him whole. He watched his best friend, waiting for some indication that he was wrong, that the spell only worked on Slayers or legs or only on Thursdays, anything but the possibility it could work for him and she kept from telling him about it. "Willow?" He prompted, the air growing denser around them, separating them from the group, just the two of them like old times, but not like old times, as Willow's gaze fell to the floor. That action spoke more than all the words she could have spoken.

"Oh, I see." Xander whispered quietly, understanding slamming into his gut, knocking the breath from his lungs. "Or actually I guess I don't." He chuckled softly, a harsh bitter laugh, so detached that it caused Willow's eyes to dart up, catching his own stare. "But I suppose you know all about that."

"Xander," Willow faltered slightly under his quiet attack. It was brutal, worse than a million harsh barbs he could have thrown her way, those she could take, but not this. Not this quiet hurt, that she could feel humming from him, as if his very soul had been wounded and was now in shock, shaking, trembling under the blow. She moved to sooth him, but he recoiled from her touch, backing up a pace. "Xander?" She called again, voice breaking, as he shook his head, as if a stranger stood in front of him, instead of his best friend. "Don't look at me like that!" She pleaded; green orbs brimming with unshed tears.

But his resolve didn't soften. This girl in front of him, who he had pulled back from the very edge of evil itself, was no one he knew now, no one he cared to know. "I'm sorry but it's the only way I can right now." And with that he silently, grimly turned away and made his way up the heavy metal staircase into the darkened office Buffy was resting in. He needed a friend right about now, even if all she could do was listen while she slumbered.

Willow turned to the other three girls. "It's not like that. It's more complicated." Tears began to stream down her face as she pleaded her case. "There is pain, and pain, and I didn't want to hurt him."

She sobbed as Kennedy pulled her into a tight embrace, pushing a lock of red hair away, and tucking it behind her lover's ear. "We know."

Dawn came up behind Willow, placing a reassuring hand on her back. "I'm sure if you could have done something to help you would have. We know that." Her head tilted to the soft light filtering from the office. "And I am sure once he has had time to think about it, he'll know it too."

******

"I’m never gonna be able to move again." Grumbled Lisa, one of the Slayers in training as she rubbed her aching arms with a small groan.

Vi stretched, "Aww that was nothing! You should have seen how tough she was before we got the Slayer powers." Because of the confused looks she added. "When we were preparing to battle the First. It was all like ‘maggot this’ and ‘idiot that’, but Buffy did give a rallying speech." She paused to think for a moment. "Well when she wasn’t saying how unprepared we all were and how much better she was."

Lisa shook her head as the S.I.T.s made their way to the sheet rooms for a little R&R. "I don’t even want to hear that name! I don’t get why she’s still here anyhow. That girl is completely cracked and every time something like this happens Kennedy gets all drill sergeant on our asses. And I know they are friends but is it my fault the girl’s brain has been scrambled!"

"It’s really not that simple." Vi explained. "Buffy was the last lone slayer. She didn’t start off by having another slayer around to watch her back. She saved my life. She helped unleash our power. She’s just…" Vi shrugged. "Having a hard time right now."

"Oh please!" Lisa rolled her eyes as she threw herself down on her cot, speaking to Vi and ignoring her crying roommate. "I mean Faith could have figured it out without her, and I’m not seeing why we have to put up with her rants anyway. I mean, she did her thing, now can we please put her out to pasture or at least send her somewhere where they won’t care that her brain is mush? Frankly," She commented with a small smirk as she fluffed her pillow under her head. "We would be better off without her."

Wham! Lisa was thrown off her bed, her head connecting with the concrete with a sharp blow, Amber’s body pinning her down. "Don’t you dare say that again!" The red head howled as she landed another blow to Lisa’s left cheek. "You just shut up!"

Lisa threw her off, aiming a kick at her gut, sending her opponent into a stack of milk crate shelves. "Oh please!" She moved in, bent on landing another kick to Amber who was sprawled across the floor in a mass of tangled blankets and fallen books. "Buffy is nothing but a loser and you know it." She kicked her hacking roommate once in the ribs before she went to land a final blow across her face. Suddenly Lisa’s small brunette form flew through the air, crashing into the solid brick wall behind her, knocking her out cold. It all happened so fast she never knew what hit her.

*****

"Talked to Amber." Faith reported as she hopped up on the workbench that served as an island in their makeshift kitchen. "Same ol’, same ol’. All about B, again." She snagged a piece of apple from where Xander was slicing them and popped it into her mouth. "It’s been like a running theme around these parts."

"Yeah. Big mileage on that one." Willow commented quietly as she worked at peeling the orange in front of her. The group was assembled in the kitchen in a poor attempt at throwing together a fruit salad for the girls as a midnight snack. Dinner had been seriously disrupted, and ended up settling high on the junk food pyramid and not so much with the healthy. Which was the reason the Scoobies were gathered together, well that and to discuss the latest hostile outbreak, this time from their own camp.

"We are gonna have to do something to stop this." Kennedy added gravely as she handed her melon balls off to Dawn, who was dividing all the fruit up into three large bowls.

"Stop what?" Xander looked up from his apples. "I mean a little hand to hand combat never hurt anyone. Think of it as extra training."

"You didn’t see Lisa." Willow added wisely. "Somehow I think it hurt her a lot."

"Well I am sure you can mojo her right back up?" There was an edge to Xander’s voice, steel in his eyes. "I mean you don’t really like her that much so why not help her? I mean who would want to think of helping their friends? Much better to let your friends suffer and waste your powers on an undeserving brat, who is constantly talking smack. Yep, I totally see where you are coming from."

Willow sighed. Since Xander had finally come out of Buffy’s room an hour ago he hadn’t had much to say to her, which she figured was much worse than him yelling. They always had at least been able to talk but now she wasn’t so sure she didn’t want the sullen quiet Xander back. "Xander, it’s not that simple. There are costs, and stuff that you don’t know about."

"Of course there is! Nobody ever told me about them so how could I know? I’m sorry I forgot to pack my crystal ball." He rolled his eyes, throwing the apple slices harshly into one bowl, causing Dawn to squeak as she went to pick them out and evenly divide them. "You’re right. I don’t know anything. Or at least don’t understand anything! Just dumb ol’ Xander. So why don’t you explain it to me? You’re so smart. So fill us in, sage Willow. What the hell is going on here?!"

A voice shot out through the darkness as boots connected with the cold concrete. "Took the words out of my bloody mouth, mate."