"C'mon, girls, let's go."

    "Why?"

    "What?" Faith straightened up over her bag and looked up. One of the Slayers-to-Be was staring at her, arms crossed. She couldn't remember her name; she couldn't even remember anything about her at all, actually. She was blonde and she was stubborn. Just what I need right now.

    "I don't want to go," the girl said.

    "Yeah, well, we have to," Faith said. She scooped up clothes and looked around. The fact that Buffy had been gone only a few hours and that she had already moved into her room she carefully shoved out of her mind. "Jig's up."

     "I don't want it...to...be..up," the girl said, clearly unfamiliar with the phrase.

     "What you want doesn't matter. We're over-ruled."

     They looked at each other. "We wouldn't be moving out except for you."

    "That's not fair," Faith said. "That is just not fair. I had nothing to do with it, nothing. You guys----"

    "Well, you wanted to be Slayer," the girl said.

    "I am the Slayer,"

   "You're one of them. And I'm going to have to sleep on a park bench, and it was bad enough here!" She jumped up, sniffing, and blindly stumbled past Faith out into the hallway. Willow shied back as she ran into the other room, and exchanged glances with Faith as she went past.

    "I don't know where we're going," she said. "Might want to use the bathroom while you still got a chance."  Then she froze, looking down the hallway.

   "Yeah," came a soft English voice. "Make sure you get your little bag packed, and all that." What floated in the hallway, in the glare of his icy eyes, was another uncomfortable comparison with Buffy's departure. "So, Will, what's the excuse for this?"

    "Uh...What?"

   "Did you think about it? What it would be like for Buffy? Did you even mention it to her at all? Or did you just jump?"

   "I---uh---well----" Willow looked around, trying to find escape or vocabulary. "I---I----it's so----easy----for you to---to----criticize. You love her and---"

    "---and you claim to," Spike said. "Which one of is lying?"

    "Do you think? That I wanted---to---?!"

   "Not impressed with the tears there, Red, I'm afraid. Always worked for you before, but it's time to get something new. Like, I don't know----"

   Spike reached out and gently touched her face, then slid his hand down to her shoulder without really touching her. His other hand seemed to come out of nowhere, and pressed against her other shoulder. Far too suddenly, the wall was against her back. "Just once in your life, Willow, I want you to actually say the same thing you're thinking. Just once," he hissed. "Be honest. Tell the truth. You might just have gotten all of us killed, and you're still trying to act like a schoolgirl. Own up to it for once." He brushed something out of her face that wasn't even visible, a gesture that would have looked gentle if someone else had done it. But Willow went rigid. "All that time, we thought you were so scared of us. Even I. If I'd have known what you could do, what you would do, I would have killed you when I had the chance."

    "I---She loved you because of me! You had that because of me!" For a brief second, something flared in Willow's eyes, something dark and twisted---and lost. For a confusing swirl, he could read the years in her eyes, the anger blooming out of every hopeful moment, every hopeless crush dashed underneath some bright young thing's fashionable heels. All the anger that had flourished silently, buried itself in work, in study, in usefulness, while silently noting and considering every slight, all that seethed before him, before all her defenses rose up and hid behind the suddenly-welling tears.

    "I didn't want that," Spike whispered. "All or nothing, that's what I want. But..you...that's it, isn't it?" He backed away carefully, as if the floor might vanish from under his boots. "It doesn't matter how you get it, does it? Just as long as you get it. Just as long as there's an excuse you can hide behind."

   "No!" Willow said, biting her lip, but Spike was shaking his head in wonder. "You should be happy, Spike. You should be happy. You got her now. That's all you wanted."

   "I wanted her happy. With herself. With me. Even with you." He took another step back and that was his mistake. The tears vanished, and Willow took a corresponding step forward. Vampire that he was, confronted by an opponent little better than a schoolgirl, he still understood something of the power of denial, and fear sparked through his veins. She would never admit that he was right, never admit that the things she had done had caused terrible harm. No one could force her to look into that abyss, and here he had just pushed her to the precipice.

   "Hey," Faith said. "Come on. Come on, seriously. What is this? Did I get the edited version of the update? What am I missing here?"

   "Nothing," Willow spat out. Spike sagged against the wall, as she stalked past, a tiny girl whose foot steps suddenly seemed to shake the house. For a second, as she paused at his shoulder, her words reached his ears. "You're nothing, Spike. Nothing."

   Faith looked at Willow's back as the other girl flew down the stairs. "Are you going to tell me what that was about?"

  The casual tone of her voice brought Spike back to his senses. What, were they buddies, that she could adopt that tone of voice? Casual, almost teasing---it was an everyday voice, completely normal, almost re-assuring. Almost, because they were standing in the hallway that one had defended and the other usurped, and her light tone tried to obscure that fact. "You should ask Buffy about that," Spike said precisely. "Oh, wait..." He straightened up and looked at her over his shoulder. "Guess you and her won't be having any heart to hearts soon, will you?" He looked down the stairway. "Maybe you could ask Willow."