Faith must have known it. Otherwise, she would never have dared come here. After that nasty little scene a few weeks ago, when she had discovered that Angel had fooled her into believing he was Angelus, Buffy did not think that even Faith would have the nerve to come skulking around so soon. Faith obviously bounced back quickly from defeat. Did she actually believe that molesting Angel while he was sleeping would even the score? Buffy could not understand it. It was a pathetic effort to regain some self-esteem, she knew, but to have to do it while he was sleeping? It was laughable, and at the same time it was infuriating.

There was another murmur from Angel, and Buffy looked up to see Faith straddling him and gently pulling his shirt from the waistband of his pants.

"Mmm...Buffy..." she heard him say softly in his sleep, and her eyes widened. She looked at Faith, who had frozen. Faith's features twisted into an ugly scowl for a brief moment, then relaxed again.

"I'm here," she whispered to him, soothing him. "Buffy's here."

That was enough for Buffy. Rage rose in her and she narrowed her eyes. Sliding a stake from its spot at her waist, she stepped forward into the room. "You will get away from him," she said clearly.

Faith's head whipped around to the doorway. "Oh, hey, B," she grinned, but made no move to unmount herself from Angel.

"Get OFF," Buffy said again.

"I'm trying to do just that," Faith mocked her, and still sat comfortably atop the sleeping vampire.

"You disgust him," Buffy told her.

"I bet I don't," Faith replied calmly. "I bet he would take willingly what I offered." She put a finger to her chin and tapped it thoughtfully. "Let's think here. Angel was, at one time, very popular for his male charms. He didn't even have to think about where his next lay would come from. All he had to do was just flash that sexy smile, and they were falling into his lap. But then came that gypsy girl, and the curse followed. No more sex for the guy that used to be able to make them get hot just by looking at them. Poor, poor baby, having to abstain for so long, and then what happens? He takes you to bed, and poof! There goes his soul. Doesn't look like he'll be trying that again with you, so where does that leave him? Hmmm...think...oh, I know!" She smiled sweetly. "Gotta have Faith, if you know what I mean. Pun intended."

The words hit home, but she hid her distress. "There's a word for people who take advantage of someone who's sleeping," Buffy said. "They're called rapists."

"Can't rape the willing," Faith returned, glancing down at the still-sleeping Angel, moving her leg aside to reveal to Buffy the bulge in his pants.

"He thinks you're me, you conceited traitorous bitch," Buffy bit out, and then cursed herself for losing her temper.

"Wow, I guess the kitten has claws," Faith laughed. "He would have been able to tell the difference soon enough."

It was growing tiresome, going rounds with her, so Buffy crossed the room and picked up a small glass candleholder from its place on Angel's dresser. She cocked her head at Faith, tossed the candleholder up once in the air, and then heaved it as hard as she could at the opposite wall. It flew through the air silently, then shattered with a resounding crash that echoed throughout the mansion.

Angel shot straight up in bed, tumbling Faith from her perch, and grabbed frantically for the stake he kept on the bedside table. Without realizing who it was, he seized Faith by the throat and pinned her, raising the stake above her.

"I love it rough," she said to him, and he blinked twice before focusing on her face.

"What the hell--" he started, then saw Buffy. "Hey," he said, confusion on his features. "Why are you here?"

She approached the bed and stood over the trapped rebel Slayer. "Don't you want to know why Faith is here too?" God, please don't say you were expecting her, she prayed.

"I want to know why two vampire Slayers have both appeared unexpectedly in my bedroom," he said pointedly. "Makes a guy kind of nervous."

"Go ahead," Buffy prodded Faith. "Tell him. See how willing he is."

Faith just looked at her and winked, causing Angel to shake his head and say, "Forget it. Just get out, Faith." He released his hold and she scrambled off the bed, straightening her clothes.

"I'll walk myself out," she smirked, brushing past Buffy.

Angel followed her to the front door to ensure she actually left his house, and as she was going down the steps, he said, "If you ever cross this threshold again, the next time you'll get a stake to the heart. I don't care if you aren't a demon. You sure as hell aren't human."

"I'm not a vampire," Faith teased. "I don't have to be invited."

He slammed the door on her mocking giggles.

Returning to the bedroom, he found Buffy sitting on the edge of the bed looking at her fingernails. She looked up at his approach. "She's gone, I hope."

He nodded, and took a seat next to her. There was silence. After a while, he spoke. "I didn't really care why she was here. But you, I do."

"I was just...missing you," she said softly, glancing up at him. "Thought maybe we could just talk or something. I didn't expect to find you being mauled in your sleep."

"Is that what she was doing? It felt like a dream. I thought it was--" he broke off hesitantly. "Well, I thought it was you."

She smiled slightly, warming inside. "I'm glad."

"But what? Tell me," he urged, sensing her discomfort.

Tears suddenly welled up from nowhere, and she shook her head in distress.

He gathered her close then, laying back with her on the bed and cuddling her to his chest. "It's all right," he whispered, though seeing it wasn't.

"I thought maybe you had invited her here," she spoke in a muffled voice against his shirt. "I thought maybe since you and I can't, you know, BE together, you were using Faith to get what you needed. It made me sick."

He was silent for a minute, absorbing her words, then he spoke. "Faith is a cheap whore, Buffy, but even if she weren't, even if she were good and sweet and pure like you, I would still never even consider touching her. Do you know why?" His arm tightened around her, and she looked up at him with wet eyes. "Because she isn't you. She doesn't shine like you do. She doesn't light my life with joy. Only you can do that for me, only you have been able to do that like no other in the last two hundred years. I don't care if I never touch you again, so long as you just promise to come and sit with me and we can talk about nothing, like we do. Just having you in the same room with me gives me enough satisfaction to last a lifetime. And believe me, I have several lifetimes. You are my bridge from darkness to light,Buffy, and there isn't another soul, living or dead, who could ever come close to shining like you do."

It was a long speech for him, and when he finished, her tears had spilled over and left tracks on her cheeks. "That was the right thing to say," she said in a shaky voice.

"Feel better?"

"Kind of."

"Hmmm. 'Kind of' is no good."

"Sorry. Can't help it right now."

"Well," he said softly, "let's try something else." He gently disentangled from her and repositioned so he was laying on top of her, resting his weight on his forearms on either side of her head.