twoslayers
Townie
- Joined
- Oct 30, 2024
- Messages
- 93
I have previously posted this story on AO3, so it may be familiar to some. Setting is mid to late Season 6. Points of canon divergence: No Buffy/Spike, Faith returned to Sunnydale during S.6, Giles didn't go back to England. As the story starts, Willow and Tara are broken up and Anya is no longer with Xander. Rating PG-13 for suggestiveness and moderate violence. Pairings: Buffy/Faith, Willow/Tara. Also appearing in a supporting role: Anya, Giles.
-------------
Buffy rubbed her hands together, her breath visible in the frigid air of the ice cave. The teleportation spell was supposed to take them to a demon's lair in downtown Sunnydale, not the literal bottom of the world.
"Well, this is just peachy," Faith muttered, imitating Buffy’s normal expression as she paced back and forth to keep warm. "Remind me again why we trusted Red with transportation?"
Willow's face fell. "I followed the incantation exactly! Something must have interfered with the magical energies."
"It's okay, Willow," Tara said softly, placing a gentle hand on her ex-girlfriend's shoulder. Their eyes met briefly before both looked away, the tension between them almost palpable.
Anya, oblivious to the awkwardness, was examining the ice walls with unusual interest. "You know, there's a frost demon that lives in conditions like these. Makes excellent ice sculptures but terrible conversation. Always talking about the impending ice age."
"Less demon trivia, more getting us home," Buffy said, though her tone lacked its usual edge. She stole a glance at Faith, who was now doing push-ups on the icy floor, presumably to generate body heat. Buffy tried not to stare at the way Faith's muscles flexed beneath her thin leather jacket.
"Twenty-eight, twenty-nine, thirty," Faith counted, jumping to her feet with a satisfied exhale. "Your turn, B. Gotta keep the blood pumping."
"I'm fine," Buffy replied, though her chattering teeth suggested otherwise.
Willow had begun tracing symbols in the frost that coated the cave wall. "I think I might be able to reverse the spell, but..." She hesitated, looking at Tara almost pleadingly. "I could use some help with the binding elements."
Tara nodded, moving closer. "Two witches are stronger than one," she whispered, their fingers nearly touching as they both traced the same arcane pattern.
Anya rolled her eyes. "Oh please, just kiss already. The sexual tension is making this cave even colder."
"Anya!" Buffy chided, though she couldn't help but wonder if the former demon was directing that comment at more than just the witches.
Faith had stopped pacing and was now examining a narrow passage leading deeper into the ice cave.
"This might lead somewhere warmer," Faith said, peering into the darkness. "Or at least somewhere with fewer awkward vibes."
"We shouldn't split up," Buffy said quickly, moving to Faith's side. Their shoulders brushed, sending a jolt through Buffy that had nothing to do with the cold.
Faith raised an eyebrow. "Worried about me, B?"
"I'm worried about all of us," Buffy countered, though her eyes lingered on Faith's lips, chapped from the cold yet somehow still inviting.
Willow and Tara continued their magical collaboration, their hands now overlapping as they drew increasingly complex patterns in the frost. The symbols began to glow with a faint blue light, illuminating their faces in the dim cave.
"The energy here is... different," Tara murmured. "It's like the South Pole is amplifying certain aspects of the spell."
"Like a magical magnifying glass?" Willow suggested, her eyes brightening with that familiar spark of intellectual curiosity.
Tara nodded. "Exactly. But it's also magnifying..." she trailed off, glancing meaningfully at Willow, ”...emotions," Tara finished quietly, her cheeks flushing despite the cold.
The blue light from their symbols pulsed, casting eerie shadows across the ice walls. Willow's eyes widened with understanding.
"That explains it," she whispered. "The teleportation spell got twisted because it responded to what we were all feeling instead of where we wanted to go."
Anya clapped her hands together. "Oh! Like that time in Prague when I cursed that unfaithful baron to be trapped with his mistress in a—" She stopped abruptly. "Never mind. Not helpful."
Faith had abandoned her exploration of the passage and returned to the group, rubbing her arms vigorously. "So what you're saying is, we're stuck in the world's biggest freezer because of... feelings?"
"Unresolved feelings," Tara clarified softly, not meeting anyone's eyes. "The kind that create magical interference."
Buffy felt her stomach drop. She glanced at Faith, who was suddenly very interested in examining her boots. The silence in the cave became deafening.
"Well, that's just great," Buffy finally said, her voice higher than usual. "So now we need what, group therapy to get home?"
"Not exactly," Willow said, tracing another symbol that flickered with purple light. "But the spell to get us back might require... honesty. Magical transparency."
Faith scoffed. "You want us to bare our souls in Antarctica? I'll freeze to death first, thanks."
"We might freeze anyway if we don't try something," Buffy pointed out, hugging herself tighter as a particularly cold draft swept through the cave. She took a deep breath. "I'll go first if it helps."
Everyone turned to look at her with varying degrees of surprise. Faith's expression was particularly guarded, her dark eyes watchful.
"I'm... scared," Buffy admitted. "Not just of being stuck here, but of... things I haven't been saying." Her eyes flickered briefly to Faith before returning to the icy floor.
The magical symbols pulsed brighter in response to her words.
"It's working," Tara whispered excitedly. "The energy is shifting."
Anya stepped forward. "Fine. I'll go next. I'm tired of watching everyone dance around their feelings like hormonal teenagers. It's exhausting! And honestly? I miss having someone look at me the way Willow looks at Tara, or the way you two," she gestured between Buffy and Faith, "pretend not to look at each other."
The symbols flared even brighter, ice crystals around them beginning to melt.
Faith shifted uncomfortably. "This is ridiculous."
"Is it?" Willow challenged gently. "The spell is responding. We need more."
Tara took a shaky breath. "I still love you, Willow," she said, her voice barely audible. "I never stopped."
Willow's eyes filled with tears. "Tara, I—"
"Okay, fine!" Faith interrupted, throwing her hands up. "You want honesty? I'm terrified every damn day. Not of demons or apocalypses, but of this—" she gestured vaguely between herself and Buffy, "—whatever this is. Happy now?"
The symbols were now pulsating with intense light, casting long shadows as the ice around them began to crack and shift.
Buffy stepped forward, her heart hammering. "Ever since you came back to Sunnydale," Buffy said, her voice trembling slightly, "I can't stop thinking about you. And it scares me, Faith. It scares me because I don't know what it means, and I don't know what to do with these feelings."
The symbols blazed like small suns, the ice walls now streaming with rivulets of meltwater. Faith stood frozen, not from the cold but from Buffy's words.
"B, you don't have to—"
"Yes, I do," Buffy interrupted, stepping closer. "We all do. That's the point, isn't it? The spell brought us here because we were all hiding from what we really wanted."
Willow nodded, tears still streaming down her face. "The magic responded to our subconscious desires. We weren't just trying to find a demon; we were all looking for something else."
Tara reached out and tentatively took Willow's hand. "For someone else."
The cave rumbled, ice cracking overhead. A shower of fine crystals rained down on them.
"Uh, not to interrupt this beautiful moment of honesty,” Anya said, gesturing wildly at the cracking ceiling, "but I think our emotional breakthrough might bring this whole place down on our heads!"
Willow and Tara immediately returned to the symbols, their hands moving in perfect synchronicity now, strengthening the spell.
"We need to complete the circle," Tara called out. "Everyone, join hands!"
They formed a hasty circle in the center of the cave, Buffy finding herself between Faith and Anya. The feel of Faith's calloused palm against hers sent warmth spreading up her arm despite the frigid air.
"Now what?" Faith asked, her voice uncharacteristically small.
"Focus on where we want to go," Willow instructed, her eyes closed in concentration. "Home. Sunnydale. The Magic Box."
The symbols began to rotate around them, spinning faster and faster until they created a continuous ring of light. The ice beneath their feet groaned and shifted.
Faith's grip on Buffy's hand tightened. "B," she whispered, "if we make it back..."
"When," Buffy corrected firmly. "When we make it back."
Faith's lips curved into a half-smile. "When we make it back... we should talk. For real this time."
"For real," Buffy agreed, squeezing Faith's hand as the light around them intensified.
Willow and Tara began chanting in unison, their voices blending into a melodic incantation that echoed throughout the cave. The ice walls seemed to pulse in response, the entire structure now vibrating with magical energy.
"Is it supposed to feel like this?" Anya shouted over the growing rumble. "Like my insides are being rearranged?"
No one had time to answer. The circle of light contracted suddenly, wrapping around them like a cocoon. Buffy felt Faith press closer to her side, their shoulders touching as the cave disappeared in a blinding flash.
When the light faded, they were sprawled across the floor of the Magic Box, surrounded by overturned books and scattered ingredients. The familiar smell of incense and ancient texts replaced the crisp Antarctic air.
"We did it!" Willow exclaimed, still holding Tara's hand tightly.
Giles appeared from behind the counter, looking utterly bewildered. "Good Lord! Where have you all been? It's been hours."
"Antarctica," Anya announced, scrambling to her feet and rushing to the radiator. She pressed herself against it with a blissful sigh. "Sweet, sweet artificial heat."
Buffy and Faith disentangled themselves from each other, both suddenly shy now that they were back in familiar territory. The intensity of the ice cave confessions seemed dreamlike in the warm, cluttered shop.
"A spell gone wrong," Willow explained to Giles, helping Tara up from the floor. Their hands remained linked, fingers intertwined. "But also kind of right, in a weird way."
Faith brushed ice crystals from her leather jacket, avoiding Buffy's gaze. "I need a hot shower and about a gallon of coffee," she muttered, already backing toward the door.
"Faith, wait—" Buffy started, but Faith held up a hand.
"Later, B. I promised we'd talk, and we will. Just... give me a minute to process, okay?" Her eyes, usually guarded, were open and vulnerable in a way Buffy had rarely seen. "I meant what I said back there. Every word. But I need to..."
"Breathe?" Buffy offered, understanding flickering between them.
Faith nodded, relief evident in her face. "Yeah. Exactly."
"I'll be at here," Buffy said softly. "When you're ready."
After Faith slipped out the door, Giles cleared his throat, looking between the remaining women with growing suspicion. "Would someone care to explain exactly what happened during this spell? And why you all look as though you've had some sort of...revelation?"
Anya, still hugging the radiator, snorted. "Oh, it was quite the adventure in emotional honesty. Very touching. Very cold. Did I mention it was cold?"
Willow and Tara exchanged shy glances, their fingers still loosely intertwined. "The spell reacted to our subconscious desires," Willow explained. "It sent us somewhere isolated where we had to confront... things we've been avoiding."
"I see," Giles said, though his expression suggested he didn't see at all. He removed his glasses and began polishing them. "And these... things... have now been resolved?"
"Not resolved," Buffy said, her eyes drifting to the door where Faith had disappeared. "More like... acknowledged."
Tara smiled softly. "Sometimes that's the hardest part."
Giles replaced his glasses and sighed. "Well, while you were all having this frigid epiphany, I've been researching our demon problem. The one you were supposed to be tracking down?"
"Right," Buffy said, snapping back to Slayer mode. "Demon. Bad. Got it."
"Perhaps we could focus on that before any more... personal matters are attended to?" Giles suggested, though his stern tone was undercut by the affectionate glance he cast over his charges.
Anya finally peeled herself away from the radiator. "Fine, but I'm making hot chocolate first. With those little marshmallows. Near-death by freezing entitles a person to tiny marshmallows."
As the others gathered around the research table, Buffy found herself glancing repeatedly at the door. Part of her wanted to run after Faith, to continue what they'd started in that ice cave before the momentum was lost. But Faith had asked for space, and after everything they'd been through, Buffy owed her that much.
"The demon appears to be a Krostian Ice Wraith," Giles was saying, pointing to an illustration in one of his ancient texts. "They're normally confined to the Arctic regions, but this one seems to have followed a research vessel back to California."
Buffy stared at the drawing of the crystalline creature. "So we just went from Antarctica to hunting an ice demon? The universe has a weird sense of humor."
"Perhaps not coincidental," Tara suggested quietly. "Magic often creates connections we don't immediately see."
Willow nodded enthusiastically. "Like how our spell went wonky and sent us to ice-ville instead of downtown Sunnydale. Maybe it was trying to show us what we're up against."
"By forcing us to confront our feelings?" Anya asked skeptically, returning with a tray of steaming mugs. "That seems like an unnecessarily complicated way to prepare for demon slayage."
"Magic works in mysterious ways," Willow said, accepting a mug gratefully. The warmth against her palms was a welcome reminder that they were no longer trapped in the freezing cave.
Buffy wrapped her hands around her own mug, still distracted. "So this ice wraith. How do we kill it?"
"Fire, naturally," Giles replied, flipping a page in his book. "Though it's not quite that simple. The creature has a crystalline core that must be shattered after it's been sufficiently weakened by heat."
"So we need fire and something heavy," Buffy summarized. "I can work with that."
Tara sipped her hot chocolate thoughtfully. "There's something else about these creatures... They feed on emotional coldness. Distance between people."
Giles nodded, impressed. "Precisely. They're drawn to areas with high concentrations of emotional suppression. Sunnydale, with its peculiar tendency for people to ignore supernatural occurrences, must be quite the feast for it."
Buffy felt a chill that had nothing to do with her recent Antarctic adventure. "So our ice demon is basically snacking on Sunnydale's collective denial? Great."
"And our own," Willow added softly, her eyes meeting Tara's. "Until today."
The implications settled over the group. Buffy stared into her mug, watching the tiny marshmallows slowly dissolve.
"So what you're saying is," she began slowly, "that by facing what we've been avoiding, we've already started to weaken it?"
"In theory," Giles confirmed. "Though I wouldn't recommend relying solely on emotional honesty to defeat a supernatural predator."
The bell above the shop door jingled, and Faith stepped back in, her hair damp from what must have been a very quick shower. She'd changed into dry clothes and carried two large thermoses.
"Figured we could use some reinforcements," she said, holding up the containers. "Coffee. Strong enough to wake the dead, which in this town is actually a possibility."
Buffy couldn't help the smile that spread across her face. "That was a quick minute."
Faith shrugged, but there was a new openness to her expression. "Yeah, well, figured if we're facing down some ice demon, I should probably be here for the strategy session." She set the coffee on the table and hesitated before taking the empty seat beside Buffy.
Their eyes met briefly, and Buffy felt that same jolt she'd experienced in Antarctica.
"We were just discussing the Krostian ice wraith," Giles said, either oblivious to or deliberately ignoring the charged atmosphere. "Apparently, it feeds on emotional suppression."
Faith snorted. "Well, that explains why it came to Sunnydale. This town's got denial down to an art form."
"It also explains why our spell went haywire," Willow added. "The wraith's presence must have amplified the magical energies, directing them toward our own... unresolved issues."
"So basically, this demon threw us into group therapy?" Faith asked, pouring coffee into her mug.
Buffy couldn't help the smile that spread across her face. "Supernatural intervention. Makes a change from the usual attempts to kill us."
"I'm not convinced it wasn't trying to kill us," Faith muttered. "Hypothermia is still death."
Anya brightened suddenly. "Oh! I just remembered something about ice wraiths. They can't stand authentic emotional warmth. It's like poison to them."
Giles flipped frantically through his book. "Yes, yes, that's right. Genuine expressions of... affection... can weaken their defenses considerably."
An awkward silence fell over the group as everyone carefully avoided looking at one another.
"So..." Willow finally said, "we basically need to be emotionally honest while setting it on fire and then smashing it?"
"That seems to be the gist, yes," Giles confirmed, closing his book with a thud.
Faith leaned back in her chair, twirling a stake between her fingers. "Kill it with feelings and fire. Sure, why not? This day just keeps getting weirder."
"We should pair up," Buffy decided, slipping into Slayer mode despite the flutter in her stomach when Faith's knee brushed against hers under the table. "Cover more ground. The wraith probably isn't going to just stroll into the Magic Box."
"I can do a locator spell," Willow offered, glancing at Tara. "With help, it'll be more precise."
Tara nodded, a soft smile playing at her lips. "I'd like that."
"Great," Buffy said, standing up and draining the last of her hot chocolate. "Willow and Tara on magic, Giles and Anya on research backup, and Faith and I will..." She hesitated, suddenly aware of what she was proposing.
"Patrol?" Faith suggested, her voice carefully neutral though her eyes held a challenge.
"Patrol," Buffy agreed. "We'll take downtown and the warehouse district."
As they gathered weapons and supplies, Buffy found herself hyperaware of Faith's movements—the confident way she tucked a knife into her boot, how she tested the weight of an axe with practiced ease. It was the same Faith she'd always known, but everything felt different now, charged with possibilities that had been buried beneath years of rivalry and hurt.
"Ready, B?" Faith asked, hefting a flamethrower that Giles had somehow produced from his back room arsenal.
Buffy nodded, grabbing a second flamethrower and a heavy sledgehammer. "Born ready.”
Outside, the night air was crisp but nowhere near the bone-chilling cold they'd experienced in Antarctica. Still, Buffy found herself walking closer to Faith than usual as they made their way through Sunnydale's darkened streets.
"So," Faith said after they'd walked in silence for several blocks, "that was some truth bomb you dropped back in the ice cave."
Buffy felt her cheeks warm despite the cool air. "Yeah, well... near-death experiences tend to bring out the honesty in me."
"Is that all it was?" Faith asked, her voice carefully controlled. "The cold talking?"
Buffy stopped walking, turning to face Faith directly. The streetlight cast half of Faith's face in shadow, but her eyes were bright and questioning.
"No," Buffy said simply. "That wasn't the cold talking. That was me. Finally saying what I've been afraid to say for... a really long time."
Faith's grip tightened on the flamethrower, her knuckles whitening. "And what exactly are you saying, B? Because in that cave, it sounded a lot like..."
"Like I have feelings for you?" Buffy finished when Faith trailed off. She took a deep breath. "I do. Complicated, confusing, terrifying feelings that I've been running from since you first showed up in Sunnydale."
The night seemed to hold its breath around them. Faith stood perfectly still, her expression unreadable in the half-light.
"That's a hell of a confession," Faith finally said, her voice rough. "Especially considering our history."
"Our history is part of it," Buffy admitted. "The good and the bad. It's all tangled up together."
Faith took a step closer, close enough that Buffy could feel the warmth radiating from her. "And what do you want to do about these feelings? Now that they're out in the open?"
"Before Buffy could answer, a blast of frigid air swept between them, so cold it stung their lungs. The streetlight above them flickered and went dark.
"I think our icy friend found us," Faith muttered, immediately shifting into a fighting stance.
A crystalline figure materialized at the end of the street, its translucent body catching what little moonlight filtered through the clouds. It moved with an unsettling grace, leaving a trail of frost in its wake.
"Guess the demon decided to save us the trouble of hunting it down," Buffy whispered, readying her flamethrower. "How considerate."
The ice wraith tilted its jagged head, regarding them with hollow eyes that gleamed like polished diamonds. When it spoke, its voice was like icicles shattering.
"So much warmth," it hissed. "Disgusting. Better when you were apart. Better when you were cold."
Faith flicked the ignition on her flamethrower. "Yeah, well, sorry to disappoint you, frosty."
"The wraith lunged forward with unexpected speed. Buffy rolled to the side, feeling the air temperature plummet around her. The concrete where she'd been standing was now coated with a thick layer of ice.
"Now, Faith!" Buffy shouted, regaining her footing.
Faith squeezed the trigger on her flamethrower, sending a stream of orange flame toward the crystalline creature. It shrieked—a sound like breaking glass—and recoiled, its translucent body dimming slightly where the fire had touched it.
"I think it's working!" Faith called, advancing steadily.
Buffy joined in with her own flamethrower, creating a crossfire of heat that forced the wraith to retreat. "Not so tough now, huh? What happened to all that big talk about coldness?"
The creature's form rippled, becoming less solid as the flames licked at its edges. But then it seemed to gather itself, drawing in a breath that sucked all the warmth from the air. When it exhaled, a blast of arctic wind extinguished both flamethrowers with a hiss.
"Crap," Faith muttered, dropping the now-useless flamethrower and drawing the knife from her boot. "Got any bright ideas, B?"
The ice wraith loomed larger, frost spreading in intricate patterns across the street. Its voice scraped against their ears like nails on glass.
"You cannot defeat me with your primitive weapons. Your world grows colder every day. Hearts close. People turn away. I feed and grow stronger."
Buffy gripped the sledgehammer tightly, her mind racing. "We need to weaken it before we can shatter the core. That's what Giles said."
"And what was the other part?" Faith asked, ducking as the wraith sent a shower of ice shards in their direction. "Something about authentic emotional warmth being poison?"
Their eyes met in sudden understanding.
"You thinking what I'm thinking?" Buffy asked, a half-smile forming despite their dire situation.
Faith's answering grin was pure adrenaline and something else—something that made Buffy's heart race. "If you mean using our earlier 'revelation' to take this thing down, then yeah."
The wraith sensed their intention and howled, sending another blast of frigid air that knocked them both backward. Buffy slammed into a parked car, while Faith hit the pavement hard, sliding several feet across the ice-slicked street.
"It knows what we're planning," Buffy called out, pushing herself up despite the pain radiating through her shoulder.
Faith scrambled to her feet, knife still clutched in her hand. "Then we better make it count, B."
The wraith glided toward Faith, its crystalline form shimmering with malevolence. "Your warmth is fleeting," it hissed. "Doubt. Fear. They always return. Always."
Faith stood her ground, her dark eyes fixed on the creature. "Maybe," she conceded. "But that doesn't mean we stop trying."
She lunged forward, slashing at the wraith with her knife. It barely made a mark, but it distracted the creature long enough for Buffy to circle around behind it, sledgehammer ready.
"Hey, ice cube!" Buffy shouted. "You want to know something that'll really ruin your appetite?”
The wraith turned, its hollow eyes fixing on Buffy with cold malice. "Your words are meaningless," it rasped, crystals forming on its jagged limbs as it prepared to strike.
"I don't think so," Buffy said, taking a deliberate step toward Faith. "Because here's the truth—I'm done being afraid of what I feel."
Faith's eyes widened slightly, but she moved toward Buffy, understanding the plan. The wraith seemed to sense the shift, its form flickering like a disturbed reflection.
"I spent years running from this," Buffy continued, keeping her eyes locked with Faith's as they drew closer together. "Running from you. From us. But not anymore."
"B," Faith whispered, her voice uncharacteristically vulnerable.
The wraith shrieked, sending a shower of ice daggers toward them. They both dodged, but kept moving closer to each other.
"All that time in the cave," Faith said, loud enough for the creature to hear, "I kept thinking about how many chances we've wasted. How much time I spent convincing myself I didn't care."
The wraith's crystalline body began to crack, hairline fractures spreading across its surface like a spiderweb. It howled, the sound like breaking glass amplified a hundredfold, and attempted to retreat.
"It's working," Buffy said, her voice hushed with wonder. She was close enough to Faith now to see the flecks of gold in her dark eyes, to count each separate eyelash.
"Then let's finish it," Faith replied, reaching out to take Buffy's free hand. Their fingers intertwined, warm against the biting cold.
The wraith convulsed, more fractures appearing across its body. "No," it gurgled, its voice distorting. "Your warmth is... temporary. Fleeting. You will... grow cold again."
Buffy shook her head. "Maybe. Life gets complicated. But right now? This is real."
Faith's grip tightened on Buffy's hand. "More real than anything I've felt in a long time, B."
The wraith collapsed to its knees, its once-imposing form now diminished, cracking further with each passing second. At its center, a pulsing blue light became visible through the fractures—the crystalline core Giles had mentioned.
"Now, B!" Faith urged, releasing Buffy's hand and diving to the side.
Buffy swung the sledgehammer with all her Slayer strength, bringing it down on the weakened wraith. The creature shattered with an ear-splitting shriek, fragments of ice exploding outward like deadly shrapnel. Faith and Buffy both dropped to the ground, covering their heads as ice shards rained down around them.
When the deadly hail subsided, all that remained of the wraith was a scattered pile of rapidly melting ice crystals and the faintly glowing core, now cracked down the middle.
Faith cautiously approached the remains, nudging the broken core with her boot. "Is it... dead?"
Buffy joined her, still gripping the sledgehammer. "I think so. That wasn't so hard."
"Speak for yourself," Faith said with a half-smile. "The fighting was easy. The other part..." She trailed off, suddenly intensely interested in adjusting her jacket.
The night air was warming again, the unnatural chill dissipating as the wraith's influence faded. Buffy set down the sledgehammer and turned to face Faith fully.
"The other part wasn't so hard either," Buffy said softly. "Once I stopped fighting it."
Faith glanced up, vulnerability and hope warring in her expression. "Yeah? And what exactly are we not fighting anymore, B?"
Buffy stepped closer, close enough that she could feel Faith's breath on her face. "This," she whispered, and closed the remaining distance between them.
Their lips met tentatively at first, a gentle exploration that quickly deepened as years of tension melted away. Faith's hands found Buffy's waist, pulling her closer, while Buffy's fingers tangled in Faith's dark hair.
When they finally broke apart, both slightly breathless, Faith rested her forehead against Buffy's. "Well," she murmured, "if I'd known fighting ice demons would lead to this, I'd have gone hunting for one years ago."
Buffy laughed, the sound bright and genuine in the quiet street. "I think we had a few other demons to slay first. The ones inside us."
Faith's smile turned wistful. "Yeah, guess we did. Still do, probably."
"Probably," Buffy agreed, but didn't pull away. Instead, she traced the curve of Faith's jaw with her fingertips. "But maybe we don't have to fight them alone anymore."
A car rumbled by, its headlights illuminating the melting ice crystals scattered across the pavement. The glow reminded them both of the mission at hand.
"We should probably call the others," Faith said reluctantly. "Let them know Frosty the Snow-demon is toast."
"Right," Buffy nodded, stepping back slightly but keeping her hand entwined with Faith's. "Responsibility. Duty. All those Slayer things we're supposed to care about."
Faith grinned, squeezing Buffy's hand. "Hey, we just saved the world from the abominable snowman. I think we've earned a little... what did Giles call it? Emotional warmth?"
"Emotional warmth?" Buffy repeated with a laugh. "Is that what the kids are calling it these days?"
Faith tugged Buffy closer again, her smile softening into something more vulnerable. "I don't know what the kids call it, B. I just know that whatever this is between us... it's been a long time coming.”
They stood there for a moment, surrounded by melting ice crystals that caught the streetlight like scattered diamonds. The silence between them felt different now—charged with possibility rather than the old tension of things unsaid.
"We should head back," Buffy finally said, though she made no move to release Faith's hand. "The others will worry."
Faith nodded, retrieving her knife from where it had fallen. "Think Red and her girl worked things out too?"
"If that spell in Antarctica taught me anything," Buffy replied as they began walking, their shoulders brushing, "it's that some feelings are too strong to stay buried. Even in ice."
As they made their way back toward the Magic Box, the night air felt pleasantly cool rather than biting. Neither mentioned the fact that they were still holding hands, or that their steps had fallen into step with each other.
Behind them, the last fragments of the ice wraith melted into ordinary puddles on the sidewalk. The creature's final whisper—something about coldness always returning—faded into the night, unheard and, for now at least, untrue.
Faith glanced at their intertwined fingers, a small smile playing at the corner of her mouth. "So, B... what happens when we get back to the real world? When we're not fighting for our lives in Antarctica or taking down ice demons?"
Buffy considered this, her thumb absently tracing patterns on Faith's hand. "I don't know exactly. But I know I don't want to go back to pretending."
"Pretending we're just fellow Slayers?" Faith asked, her voice carefully neutral despite the hope flickering in her eyes.
"Pretending we don't matter to each other," Buffy clarified. "Whatever this is between us... I want to find out. No more running."
"No more running," Faith agreed softly. "I think I can handle that."
They rounded the corner, the warm glow of the Magic Box visible a block away. The thought of facing the others made Buffy hesitate slightly, but Faith seemed to sense her uncertainty.
"We don't have to make some big announcement," Faith said. "Not unless you want to."
"It's not that," Buffy replied. "It's just... everything feels different now. Like the world shifted while we weren't looking."
Faith chuckled. "Pretty sure the world's been the same all along, B. We're the ones who changed."
As they approached the shop, they could see the others through the window—Willow and Tara huddled together over a spell book, their heads nearly touching; Anya gesturing animatedly while Giles cleaned his glasses with an expression of fond exasperation.
"Looks like we weren't the only ones affected by our trip to the deep freeze," Faith observed.
Buffy smiled. "Maybe the wraith did us all a favor in a weird, try-to-kill-us kind of way."
Faith laughed, the sound warming Buffy from the inside out. "Only in Sunnydale would a murderous ice demon count as relationship counseling."
They paused at the door of the Magic Box, their hands still linked. For a moment, neither moved to enter.
"You ready for this?" Faith asked softly.
Buffy took a deep breath and nodded. "As ready as I'll ever be."
When they stepped inside, a wave of warmth enveloped them—not just from the heating system, but from the scene before them. Willow and Tara were sitting closer than they had in months, shoulders touching as they bent over a spell book. Anya was arranging mugs of what looked like fresh hot chocolate, complete with tiny marshmallows. Giles looked up from his research, relief evident in his expression.
"You're back," he said, setting down his book. "And in one piece, I see. The wraith?"
"Shattered," Buffy confirmed. "Literally."
"We totally melted that sucker," Faith added with a satisfied grin. "Turns out your intel was right on the money. Fire plus feelings equals one dead ice demon."
Willow's eyes darted to their still-joined hands, a smile blooming across her face. "And it looks like the feelings part worked especially well."
Buffy felt a blush creep up her neck but didn't let go of Faith's hand. "Yeah, well... turns out near-death experiences in Antarctica are pretty clarifying."
"Tell me about it," Tara said softly, her eyes meeting Willow's with unmistakable tenderness.
Anya approached with two steaming mugs. "Here. Post-demon-slaying hot chocolate. I added extra marshmallows because you two finally stopped being idiots about your feelings."
"Anya!" Giles chided, though without much conviction.
"What? It's a compliment," Anya protested, handing the mugs to Buffy and Faith. "Do you know how exhausting it's been watching them dance around each other for years? The longing glances, the unnecessary touching during training sessions, the—
"Anya!" Buffy exclaimed, feeling her cheeks flush hotter.
Faith, however, just laughed, accepting the mug with her free hand. "Thanks for the play-by-play, demon girl."
"Former demon," Anya corrected automatically. "And you're welcome. Someone needed to state the obvious."
Giles cleared his throat, clearly trying to steer the conversation back to safer territory. "Yes, well... I'm glad to see everyone returned safely. Perhaps we should document the encounter with the wraith while it's still fresh in your minds?"
"Always with the homework, G-man," Faith said, but her tone was good-natured as she and Buffy settled into chairs at the research table, their shoulders touching.
As Buffy recounted the battle, she found herself hyperaware of Faith beside her—the way she occasionally added details with animated gestures, how her knee pressed against Buffy's under the table, the lingering scent of leather and something uniquely Faith that had become oddly comforting.
"And then Buffy smashed its core with the sledgehammer," Faith concluded. "Game over."
"Fascinating," Giles murmured, jotting notes in his journal. "The creature's vulnerability to authentic emotional connection is particularly interesting. It suggests a symbiotic relationship between supernatural manifestations and human psychological states."
"Or maybe it just means feelings matter," Tara offered quietly.
Willow smiled at her. "I like your interpretation better."
The group fell into a comfortable silence, sipping their hot chocolate. Outside, the night had deepened, stars appearing in the clear sky—all traces of the unnatural cold completely gone.
"Well," Giles finally said, closing his journal, "I believe that concludes our business for tonight. Unless there are other apocalyptic threats I should know about?"
"Just the usual Tuesday night in Sunnydale," Buffy replied with a tired smile.
As they gathered their things to leave, the group naturally separated into pairs—Willow and Tara whispering softly to each other as they collected spell ingredients, Giles and Anya discussing inventory, and Buffy and Faith standing somewhat awkwardly by the door.
"So," Faith said, rocking slightly on her heels."Your place still open for that talk?" Faith asked, her casual tone belied by the uncertainty in her eyes.
Buffy nodded, the flutter in her stomach both terrifying and exhilarating. "Definitely. Though fair warning—Dawn's probably still up, and she has the subtlety of a sledgehammer."
"Hey, sledgehammers worked pretty well for us tonight," Faith replied with a grin.
They said their goodbyes to the others, enduring knowing smiles from Willow and Tara and a not-so-subtle thumbs up from Anya. The night air felt mild after their Antarctic adventure as they walked side by side through Sunnydale's quiet streets.
"Strange day," Buffy observed, breaking the comfortable silence that had settled between them.
Faith laughed softly. "B, in what universe is 'strange day' not the definition of Slayer life?"
"Fair point," Buffy conceded, smiling. "But even by our standards, we teleported to Antarctica and came back with..." she hesitated, suddenly unsure how to define what had changed between them.
"With something worth fighting for?" Faith suggested quietly.
Buffy smiled and slid her hand into her fellow slayers. “Yes Faith, with someone worth fighting for.”
-------------
Buffy rubbed her hands together, her breath visible in the frigid air of the ice cave. The teleportation spell was supposed to take them to a demon's lair in downtown Sunnydale, not the literal bottom of the world.
"Well, this is just peachy," Faith muttered, imitating Buffy’s normal expression as she paced back and forth to keep warm. "Remind me again why we trusted Red with transportation?"
Willow's face fell. "I followed the incantation exactly! Something must have interfered with the magical energies."
"It's okay, Willow," Tara said softly, placing a gentle hand on her ex-girlfriend's shoulder. Their eyes met briefly before both looked away, the tension between them almost palpable.
Anya, oblivious to the awkwardness, was examining the ice walls with unusual interest. "You know, there's a frost demon that lives in conditions like these. Makes excellent ice sculptures but terrible conversation. Always talking about the impending ice age."
"Less demon trivia, more getting us home," Buffy said, though her tone lacked its usual edge. She stole a glance at Faith, who was now doing push-ups on the icy floor, presumably to generate body heat. Buffy tried not to stare at the way Faith's muscles flexed beneath her thin leather jacket.
"Twenty-eight, twenty-nine, thirty," Faith counted, jumping to her feet with a satisfied exhale. "Your turn, B. Gotta keep the blood pumping."
"I'm fine," Buffy replied, though her chattering teeth suggested otherwise.
Willow had begun tracing symbols in the frost that coated the cave wall. "I think I might be able to reverse the spell, but..." She hesitated, looking at Tara almost pleadingly. "I could use some help with the binding elements."
Tara nodded, moving closer. "Two witches are stronger than one," she whispered, their fingers nearly touching as they both traced the same arcane pattern.
Anya rolled her eyes. "Oh please, just kiss already. The sexual tension is making this cave even colder."
"Anya!" Buffy chided, though she couldn't help but wonder if the former demon was directing that comment at more than just the witches.
Faith had stopped pacing and was now examining a narrow passage leading deeper into the ice cave.
"This might lead somewhere warmer," Faith said, peering into the darkness. "Or at least somewhere with fewer awkward vibes."
"We shouldn't split up," Buffy said quickly, moving to Faith's side. Their shoulders brushed, sending a jolt through Buffy that had nothing to do with the cold.
Faith raised an eyebrow. "Worried about me, B?"
"I'm worried about all of us," Buffy countered, though her eyes lingered on Faith's lips, chapped from the cold yet somehow still inviting.
Willow and Tara continued their magical collaboration, their hands now overlapping as they drew increasingly complex patterns in the frost. The symbols began to glow with a faint blue light, illuminating their faces in the dim cave.
"The energy here is... different," Tara murmured. "It's like the South Pole is amplifying certain aspects of the spell."
"Like a magical magnifying glass?" Willow suggested, her eyes brightening with that familiar spark of intellectual curiosity.
Tara nodded. "Exactly. But it's also magnifying..." she trailed off, glancing meaningfully at Willow, ”...emotions," Tara finished quietly, her cheeks flushing despite the cold.
The blue light from their symbols pulsed, casting eerie shadows across the ice walls. Willow's eyes widened with understanding.
"That explains it," she whispered. "The teleportation spell got twisted because it responded to what we were all feeling instead of where we wanted to go."
Anya clapped her hands together. "Oh! Like that time in Prague when I cursed that unfaithful baron to be trapped with his mistress in a—" She stopped abruptly. "Never mind. Not helpful."
Faith had abandoned her exploration of the passage and returned to the group, rubbing her arms vigorously. "So what you're saying is, we're stuck in the world's biggest freezer because of... feelings?"
"Unresolved feelings," Tara clarified softly, not meeting anyone's eyes. "The kind that create magical interference."
Buffy felt her stomach drop. She glanced at Faith, who was suddenly very interested in examining her boots. The silence in the cave became deafening.
"Well, that's just great," Buffy finally said, her voice higher than usual. "So now we need what, group therapy to get home?"
"Not exactly," Willow said, tracing another symbol that flickered with purple light. "But the spell to get us back might require... honesty. Magical transparency."
Faith scoffed. "You want us to bare our souls in Antarctica? I'll freeze to death first, thanks."
"We might freeze anyway if we don't try something," Buffy pointed out, hugging herself tighter as a particularly cold draft swept through the cave. She took a deep breath. "I'll go first if it helps."
Everyone turned to look at her with varying degrees of surprise. Faith's expression was particularly guarded, her dark eyes watchful.
"I'm... scared," Buffy admitted. "Not just of being stuck here, but of... things I haven't been saying." Her eyes flickered briefly to Faith before returning to the icy floor.
The magical symbols pulsed brighter in response to her words.
"It's working," Tara whispered excitedly. "The energy is shifting."
Anya stepped forward. "Fine. I'll go next. I'm tired of watching everyone dance around their feelings like hormonal teenagers. It's exhausting! And honestly? I miss having someone look at me the way Willow looks at Tara, or the way you two," she gestured between Buffy and Faith, "pretend not to look at each other."
The symbols flared even brighter, ice crystals around them beginning to melt.
Faith shifted uncomfortably. "This is ridiculous."
"Is it?" Willow challenged gently. "The spell is responding. We need more."
Tara took a shaky breath. "I still love you, Willow," she said, her voice barely audible. "I never stopped."
Willow's eyes filled with tears. "Tara, I—"
"Okay, fine!" Faith interrupted, throwing her hands up. "You want honesty? I'm terrified every damn day. Not of demons or apocalypses, but of this—" she gestured vaguely between herself and Buffy, "—whatever this is. Happy now?"
The symbols were now pulsating with intense light, casting long shadows as the ice around them began to crack and shift.
Buffy stepped forward, her heart hammering. "Ever since you came back to Sunnydale," Buffy said, her voice trembling slightly, "I can't stop thinking about you. And it scares me, Faith. It scares me because I don't know what it means, and I don't know what to do with these feelings."
The symbols blazed like small suns, the ice walls now streaming with rivulets of meltwater. Faith stood frozen, not from the cold but from Buffy's words.
"B, you don't have to—"
"Yes, I do," Buffy interrupted, stepping closer. "We all do. That's the point, isn't it? The spell brought us here because we were all hiding from what we really wanted."
Willow nodded, tears still streaming down her face. "The magic responded to our subconscious desires. We weren't just trying to find a demon; we were all looking for something else."
Tara reached out and tentatively took Willow's hand. "For someone else."
The cave rumbled, ice cracking overhead. A shower of fine crystals rained down on them.
"Uh, not to interrupt this beautiful moment of honesty,” Anya said, gesturing wildly at the cracking ceiling, "but I think our emotional breakthrough might bring this whole place down on our heads!"
Willow and Tara immediately returned to the symbols, their hands moving in perfect synchronicity now, strengthening the spell.
"We need to complete the circle," Tara called out. "Everyone, join hands!"
They formed a hasty circle in the center of the cave, Buffy finding herself between Faith and Anya. The feel of Faith's calloused palm against hers sent warmth spreading up her arm despite the frigid air.
"Now what?" Faith asked, her voice uncharacteristically small.
"Focus on where we want to go," Willow instructed, her eyes closed in concentration. "Home. Sunnydale. The Magic Box."
The symbols began to rotate around them, spinning faster and faster until they created a continuous ring of light. The ice beneath their feet groaned and shifted.
Faith's grip on Buffy's hand tightened. "B," she whispered, "if we make it back..."
"When," Buffy corrected firmly. "When we make it back."
Faith's lips curved into a half-smile. "When we make it back... we should talk. For real this time."
"For real," Buffy agreed, squeezing Faith's hand as the light around them intensified.
Willow and Tara began chanting in unison, their voices blending into a melodic incantation that echoed throughout the cave. The ice walls seemed to pulse in response, the entire structure now vibrating with magical energy.
"Is it supposed to feel like this?" Anya shouted over the growing rumble. "Like my insides are being rearranged?"
No one had time to answer. The circle of light contracted suddenly, wrapping around them like a cocoon. Buffy felt Faith press closer to her side, their shoulders touching as the cave disappeared in a blinding flash.
When the light faded, they were sprawled across the floor of the Magic Box, surrounded by overturned books and scattered ingredients. The familiar smell of incense and ancient texts replaced the crisp Antarctic air.
"We did it!" Willow exclaimed, still holding Tara's hand tightly.
Giles appeared from behind the counter, looking utterly bewildered. "Good Lord! Where have you all been? It's been hours."
"Antarctica," Anya announced, scrambling to her feet and rushing to the radiator. She pressed herself against it with a blissful sigh. "Sweet, sweet artificial heat."
Buffy and Faith disentangled themselves from each other, both suddenly shy now that they were back in familiar territory. The intensity of the ice cave confessions seemed dreamlike in the warm, cluttered shop.
"A spell gone wrong," Willow explained to Giles, helping Tara up from the floor. Their hands remained linked, fingers intertwined. "But also kind of right, in a weird way."
Faith brushed ice crystals from her leather jacket, avoiding Buffy's gaze. "I need a hot shower and about a gallon of coffee," she muttered, already backing toward the door.
"Faith, wait—" Buffy started, but Faith held up a hand.
"Later, B. I promised we'd talk, and we will. Just... give me a minute to process, okay?" Her eyes, usually guarded, were open and vulnerable in a way Buffy had rarely seen. "I meant what I said back there. Every word. But I need to..."
"Breathe?" Buffy offered, understanding flickering between them.
Faith nodded, relief evident in her face. "Yeah. Exactly."
"I'll be at here," Buffy said softly. "When you're ready."
After Faith slipped out the door, Giles cleared his throat, looking between the remaining women with growing suspicion. "Would someone care to explain exactly what happened during this spell? And why you all look as though you've had some sort of...revelation?"
Anya, still hugging the radiator, snorted. "Oh, it was quite the adventure in emotional honesty. Very touching. Very cold. Did I mention it was cold?"
Willow and Tara exchanged shy glances, their fingers still loosely intertwined. "The spell reacted to our subconscious desires," Willow explained. "It sent us somewhere isolated where we had to confront... things we've been avoiding."
"I see," Giles said, though his expression suggested he didn't see at all. He removed his glasses and began polishing them. "And these... things... have now been resolved?"
"Not resolved," Buffy said, her eyes drifting to the door where Faith had disappeared. "More like... acknowledged."
Tara smiled softly. "Sometimes that's the hardest part."
Giles replaced his glasses and sighed. "Well, while you were all having this frigid epiphany, I've been researching our demon problem. The one you were supposed to be tracking down?"
"Right," Buffy said, snapping back to Slayer mode. "Demon. Bad. Got it."
"Perhaps we could focus on that before any more... personal matters are attended to?" Giles suggested, though his stern tone was undercut by the affectionate glance he cast over his charges.
Anya finally peeled herself away from the radiator. "Fine, but I'm making hot chocolate first. With those little marshmallows. Near-death by freezing entitles a person to tiny marshmallows."
As the others gathered around the research table, Buffy found herself glancing repeatedly at the door. Part of her wanted to run after Faith, to continue what they'd started in that ice cave before the momentum was lost. But Faith had asked for space, and after everything they'd been through, Buffy owed her that much.
"The demon appears to be a Krostian Ice Wraith," Giles was saying, pointing to an illustration in one of his ancient texts. "They're normally confined to the Arctic regions, but this one seems to have followed a research vessel back to California."
Buffy stared at the drawing of the crystalline creature. "So we just went from Antarctica to hunting an ice demon? The universe has a weird sense of humor."
"Perhaps not coincidental," Tara suggested quietly. "Magic often creates connections we don't immediately see."
Willow nodded enthusiastically. "Like how our spell went wonky and sent us to ice-ville instead of downtown Sunnydale. Maybe it was trying to show us what we're up against."
"By forcing us to confront our feelings?" Anya asked skeptically, returning with a tray of steaming mugs. "That seems like an unnecessarily complicated way to prepare for demon slayage."
"Magic works in mysterious ways," Willow said, accepting a mug gratefully. The warmth against her palms was a welcome reminder that they were no longer trapped in the freezing cave.
Buffy wrapped her hands around her own mug, still distracted. "So this ice wraith. How do we kill it?"
"Fire, naturally," Giles replied, flipping a page in his book. "Though it's not quite that simple. The creature has a crystalline core that must be shattered after it's been sufficiently weakened by heat."
"So we need fire and something heavy," Buffy summarized. "I can work with that."
Tara sipped her hot chocolate thoughtfully. "There's something else about these creatures... They feed on emotional coldness. Distance between people."
Giles nodded, impressed. "Precisely. They're drawn to areas with high concentrations of emotional suppression. Sunnydale, with its peculiar tendency for people to ignore supernatural occurrences, must be quite the feast for it."
Buffy felt a chill that had nothing to do with her recent Antarctic adventure. "So our ice demon is basically snacking on Sunnydale's collective denial? Great."
"And our own," Willow added softly, her eyes meeting Tara's. "Until today."
The implications settled over the group. Buffy stared into her mug, watching the tiny marshmallows slowly dissolve.
"So what you're saying is," she began slowly, "that by facing what we've been avoiding, we've already started to weaken it?"
"In theory," Giles confirmed. "Though I wouldn't recommend relying solely on emotional honesty to defeat a supernatural predator."
The bell above the shop door jingled, and Faith stepped back in, her hair damp from what must have been a very quick shower. She'd changed into dry clothes and carried two large thermoses.
"Figured we could use some reinforcements," she said, holding up the containers. "Coffee. Strong enough to wake the dead, which in this town is actually a possibility."
Buffy couldn't help the smile that spread across her face. "That was a quick minute."
Faith shrugged, but there was a new openness to her expression. "Yeah, well, figured if we're facing down some ice demon, I should probably be here for the strategy session." She set the coffee on the table and hesitated before taking the empty seat beside Buffy.
Their eyes met briefly, and Buffy felt that same jolt she'd experienced in Antarctica.
"We were just discussing the Krostian ice wraith," Giles said, either oblivious to or deliberately ignoring the charged atmosphere. "Apparently, it feeds on emotional suppression."
Faith snorted. "Well, that explains why it came to Sunnydale. This town's got denial down to an art form."
"It also explains why our spell went haywire," Willow added. "The wraith's presence must have amplified the magical energies, directing them toward our own... unresolved issues."
"So basically, this demon threw us into group therapy?" Faith asked, pouring coffee into her mug.
Buffy couldn't help the smile that spread across her face. "Supernatural intervention. Makes a change from the usual attempts to kill us."
"I'm not convinced it wasn't trying to kill us," Faith muttered. "Hypothermia is still death."
Anya brightened suddenly. "Oh! I just remembered something about ice wraiths. They can't stand authentic emotional warmth. It's like poison to them."
Giles flipped frantically through his book. "Yes, yes, that's right. Genuine expressions of... affection... can weaken their defenses considerably."
An awkward silence fell over the group as everyone carefully avoided looking at one another.
"So..." Willow finally said, "we basically need to be emotionally honest while setting it on fire and then smashing it?"
"That seems to be the gist, yes," Giles confirmed, closing his book with a thud.
Faith leaned back in her chair, twirling a stake between her fingers. "Kill it with feelings and fire. Sure, why not? This day just keeps getting weirder."
"We should pair up," Buffy decided, slipping into Slayer mode despite the flutter in her stomach when Faith's knee brushed against hers under the table. "Cover more ground. The wraith probably isn't going to just stroll into the Magic Box."
"I can do a locator spell," Willow offered, glancing at Tara. "With help, it'll be more precise."
Tara nodded, a soft smile playing at her lips. "I'd like that."
"Great," Buffy said, standing up and draining the last of her hot chocolate. "Willow and Tara on magic, Giles and Anya on research backup, and Faith and I will..." She hesitated, suddenly aware of what she was proposing.
"Patrol?" Faith suggested, her voice carefully neutral though her eyes held a challenge.
"Patrol," Buffy agreed. "We'll take downtown and the warehouse district."
As they gathered weapons and supplies, Buffy found herself hyperaware of Faith's movements—the confident way she tucked a knife into her boot, how she tested the weight of an axe with practiced ease. It was the same Faith she'd always known, but everything felt different now, charged with possibilities that had been buried beneath years of rivalry and hurt.
"Ready, B?" Faith asked, hefting a flamethrower that Giles had somehow produced from his back room arsenal.
Buffy nodded, grabbing a second flamethrower and a heavy sledgehammer. "Born ready.”
Outside, the night air was crisp but nowhere near the bone-chilling cold they'd experienced in Antarctica. Still, Buffy found herself walking closer to Faith than usual as they made their way through Sunnydale's darkened streets.
"So," Faith said after they'd walked in silence for several blocks, "that was some truth bomb you dropped back in the ice cave."
Buffy felt her cheeks warm despite the cool air. "Yeah, well... near-death experiences tend to bring out the honesty in me."
"Is that all it was?" Faith asked, her voice carefully controlled. "The cold talking?"
Buffy stopped walking, turning to face Faith directly. The streetlight cast half of Faith's face in shadow, but her eyes were bright and questioning.
"No," Buffy said simply. "That wasn't the cold talking. That was me. Finally saying what I've been afraid to say for... a really long time."
Faith's grip tightened on the flamethrower, her knuckles whitening. "And what exactly are you saying, B? Because in that cave, it sounded a lot like..."
"Like I have feelings for you?" Buffy finished when Faith trailed off. She took a deep breath. "I do. Complicated, confusing, terrifying feelings that I've been running from since you first showed up in Sunnydale."
The night seemed to hold its breath around them. Faith stood perfectly still, her expression unreadable in the half-light.
"That's a hell of a confession," Faith finally said, her voice rough. "Especially considering our history."
"Our history is part of it," Buffy admitted. "The good and the bad. It's all tangled up together."
Faith took a step closer, close enough that Buffy could feel the warmth radiating from her. "And what do you want to do about these feelings? Now that they're out in the open?"
"Before Buffy could answer, a blast of frigid air swept between them, so cold it stung their lungs. The streetlight above them flickered and went dark.
"I think our icy friend found us," Faith muttered, immediately shifting into a fighting stance.
A crystalline figure materialized at the end of the street, its translucent body catching what little moonlight filtered through the clouds. It moved with an unsettling grace, leaving a trail of frost in its wake.
"Guess the demon decided to save us the trouble of hunting it down," Buffy whispered, readying her flamethrower. "How considerate."
The ice wraith tilted its jagged head, regarding them with hollow eyes that gleamed like polished diamonds. When it spoke, its voice was like icicles shattering.
"So much warmth," it hissed. "Disgusting. Better when you were apart. Better when you were cold."
Faith flicked the ignition on her flamethrower. "Yeah, well, sorry to disappoint you, frosty."
"The wraith lunged forward with unexpected speed. Buffy rolled to the side, feeling the air temperature plummet around her. The concrete where she'd been standing was now coated with a thick layer of ice.
"Now, Faith!" Buffy shouted, regaining her footing.
Faith squeezed the trigger on her flamethrower, sending a stream of orange flame toward the crystalline creature. It shrieked—a sound like breaking glass—and recoiled, its translucent body dimming slightly where the fire had touched it.
"I think it's working!" Faith called, advancing steadily.
Buffy joined in with her own flamethrower, creating a crossfire of heat that forced the wraith to retreat. "Not so tough now, huh? What happened to all that big talk about coldness?"
The creature's form rippled, becoming less solid as the flames licked at its edges. But then it seemed to gather itself, drawing in a breath that sucked all the warmth from the air. When it exhaled, a blast of arctic wind extinguished both flamethrowers with a hiss.
"Crap," Faith muttered, dropping the now-useless flamethrower and drawing the knife from her boot. "Got any bright ideas, B?"
The ice wraith loomed larger, frost spreading in intricate patterns across the street. Its voice scraped against their ears like nails on glass.
"You cannot defeat me with your primitive weapons. Your world grows colder every day. Hearts close. People turn away. I feed and grow stronger."
Buffy gripped the sledgehammer tightly, her mind racing. "We need to weaken it before we can shatter the core. That's what Giles said."
"And what was the other part?" Faith asked, ducking as the wraith sent a shower of ice shards in their direction. "Something about authentic emotional warmth being poison?"
Their eyes met in sudden understanding.
"You thinking what I'm thinking?" Buffy asked, a half-smile forming despite their dire situation.
Faith's answering grin was pure adrenaline and something else—something that made Buffy's heart race. "If you mean using our earlier 'revelation' to take this thing down, then yeah."
The wraith sensed their intention and howled, sending another blast of frigid air that knocked them both backward. Buffy slammed into a parked car, while Faith hit the pavement hard, sliding several feet across the ice-slicked street.
"It knows what we're planning," Buffy called out, pushing herself up despite the pain radiating through her shoulder.
Faith scrambled to her feet, knife still clutched in her hand. "Then we better make it count, B."
The wraith glided toward Faith, its crystalline form shimmering with malevolence. "Your warmth is fleeting," it hissed. "Doubt. Fear. They always return. Always."
Faith stood her ground, her dark eyes fixed on the creature. "Maybe," she conceded. "But that doesn't mean we stop trying."
She lunged forward, slashing at the wraith with her knife. It barely made a mark, but it distracted the creature long enough for Buffy to circle around behind it, sledgehammer ready.
"Hey, ice cube!" Buffy shouted. "You want to know something that'll really ruin your appetite?”
The wraith turned, its hollow eyes fixing on Buffy with cold malice. "Your words are meaningless," it rasped, crystals forming on its jagged limbs as it prepared to strike.
"I don't think so," Buffy said, taking a deliberate step toward Faith. "Because here's the truth—I'm done being afraid of what I feel."
Faith's eyes widened slightly, but she moved toward Buffy, understanding the plan. The wraith seemed to sense the shift, its form flickering like a disturbed reflection.
"I spent years running from this," Buffy continued, keeping her eyes locked with Faith's as they drew closer together. "Running from you. From us. But not anymore."
"B," Faith whispered, her voice uncharacteristically vulnerable.
The wraith shrieked, sending a shower of ice daggers toward them. They both dodged, but kept moving closer to each other.
"All that time in the cave," Faith said, loud enough for the creature to hear, "I kept thinking about how many chances we've wasted. How much time I spent convincing myself I didn't care."
The wraith's crystalline body began to crack, hairline fractures spreading across its surface like a spiderweb. It howled, the sound like breaking glass amplified a hundredfold, and attempted to retreat.
"It's working," Buffy said, her voice hushed with wonder. She was close enough to Faith now to see the flecks of gold in her dark eyes, to count each separate eyelash.
"Then let's finish it," Faith replied, reaching out to take Buffy's free hand. Their fingers intertwined, warm against the biting cold.
The wraith convulsed, more fractures appearing across its body. "No," it gurgled, its voice distorting. "Your warmth is... temporary. Fleeting. You will... grow cold again."
Buffy shook her head. "Maybe. Life gets complicated. But right now? This is real."
Faith's grip tightened on Buffy's hand. "More real than anything I've felt in a long time, B."
The wraith collapsed to its knees, its once-imposing form now diminished, cracking further with each passing second. At its center, a pulsing blue light became visible through the fractures—the crystalline core Giles had mentioned.
"Now, B!" Faith urged, releasing Buffy's hand and diving to the side.
Buffy swung the sledgehammer with all her Slayer strength, bringing it down on the weakened wraith. The creature shattered with an ear-splitting shriek, fragments of ice exploding outward like deadly shrapnel. Faith and Buffy both dropped to the ground, covering their heads as ice shards rained down around them.
When the deadly hail subsided, all that remained of the wraith was a scattered pile of rapidly melting ice crystals and the faintly glowing core, now cracked down the middle.
Faith cautiously approached the remains, nudging the broken core with her boot. "Is it... dead?"
Buffy joined her, still gripping the sledgehammer. "I think so. That wasn't so hard."
"Speak for yourself," Faith said with a half-smile. "The fighting was easy. The other part..." She trailed off, suddenly intensely interested in adjusting her jacket.
The night air was warming again, the unnatural chill dissipating as the wraith's influence faded. Buffy set down the sledgehammer and turned to face Faith fully.
"The other part wasn't so hard either," Buffy said softly. "Once I stopped fighting it."
Faith glanced up, vulnerability and hope warring in her expression. "Yeah? And what exactly are we not fighting anymore, B?"
Buffy stepped closer, close enough that she could feel Faith's breath on her face. "This," she whispered, and closed the remaining distance between them.
Their lips met tentatively at first, a gentle exploration that quickly deepened as years of tension melted away. Faith's hands found Buffy's waist, pulling her closer, while Buffy's fingers tangled in Faith's dark hair.
When they finally broke apart, both slightly breathless, Faith rested her forehead against Buffy's. "Well," she murmured, "if I'd known fighting ice demons would lead to this, I'd have gone hunting for one years ago."
Buffy laughed, the sound bright and genuine in the quiet street. "I think we had a few other demons to slay first. The ones inside us."
Faith's smile turned wistful. "Yeah, guess we did. Still do, probably."
"Probably," Buffy agreed, but didn't pull away. Instead, she traced the curve of Faith's jaw with her fingertips. "But maybe we don't have to fight them alone anymore."
A car rumbled by, its headlights illuminating the melting ice crystals scattered across the pavement. The glow reminded them both of the mission at hand.
"We should probably call the others," Faith said reluctantly. "Let them know Frosty the Snow-demon is toast."
"Right," Buffy nodded, stepping back slightly but keeping her hand entwined with Faith's. "Responsibility. Duty. All those Slayer things we're supposed to care about."
Faith grinned, squeezing Buffy's hand. "Hey, we just saved the world from the abominable snowman. I think we've earned a little... what did Giles call it? Emotional warmth?"
"Emotional warmth?" Buffy repeated with a laugh. "Is that what the kids are calling it these days?"
Faith tugged Buffy closer again, her smile softening into something more vulnerable. "I don't know what the kids call it, B. I just know that whatever this is between us... it's been a long time coming.”
They stood there for a moment, surrounded by melting ice crystals that caught the streetlight like scattered diamonds. The silence between them felt different now—charged with possibility rather than the old tension of things unsaid.
"We should head back," Buffy finally said, though she made no move to release Faith's hand. "The others will worry."
Faith nodded, retrieving her knife from where it had fallen. "Think Red and her girl worked things out too?"
"If that spell in Antarctica taught me anything," Buffy replied as they began walking, their shoulders brushing, "it's that some feelings are too strong to stay buried. Even in ice."
As they made their way back toward the Magic Box, the night air felt pleasantly cool rather than biting. Neither mentioned the fact that they were still holding hands, or that their steps had fallen into step with each other.
Behind them, the last fragments of the ice wraith melted into ordinary puddles on the sidewalk. The creature's final whisper—something about coldness always returning—faded into the night, unheard and, for now at least, untrue.
Faith glanced at their intertwined fingers, a small smile playing at the corner of her mouth. "So, B... what happens when we get back to the real world? When we're not fighting for our lives in Antarctica or taking down ice demons?"
Buffy considered this, her thumb absently tracing patterns on Faith's hand. "I don't know exactly. But I know I don't want to go back to pretending."
"Pretending we're just fellow Slayers?" Faith asked, her voice carefully neutral despite the hope flickering in her eyes.
"Pretending we don't matter to each other," Buffy clarified. "Whatever this is between us... I want to find out. No more running."
"No more running," Faith agreed softly. "I think I can handle that."
They rounded the corner, the warm glow of the Magic Box visible a block away. The thought of facing the others made Buffy hesitate slightly, but Faith seemed to sense her uncertainty.
"We don't have to make some big announcement," Faith said. "Not unless you want to."
"It's not that," Buffy replied. "It's just... everything feels different now. Like the world shifted while we weren't looking."
Faith chuckled. "Pretty sure the world's been the same all along, B. We're the ones who changed."
As they approached the shop, they could see the others through the window—Willow and Tara huddled together over a spell book, their heads nearly touching; Anya gesturing animatedly while Giles cleaned his glasses with an expression of fond exasperation.
"Looks like we weren't the only ones affected by our trip to the deep freeze," Faith observed.
Buffy smiled. "Maybe the wraith did us all a favor in a weird, try-to-kill-us kind of way."
Faith laughed, the sound warming Buffy from the inside out. "Only in Sunnydale would a murderous ice demon count as relationship counseling."
They paused at the door of the Magic Box, their hands still linked. For a moment, neither moved to enter.
"You ready for this?" Faith asked softly.
Buffy took a deep breath and nodded. "As ready as I'll ever be."
When they stepped inside, a wave of warmth enveloped them—not just from the heating system, but from the scene before them. Willow and Tara were sitting closer than they had in months, shoulders touching as they bent over a spell book. Anya was arranging mugs of what looked like fresh hot chocolate, complete with tiny marshmallows. Giles looked up from his research, relief evident in his expression.
"You're back," he said, setting down his book. "And in one piece, I see. The wraith?"
"Shattered," Buffy confirmed. "Literally."
"We totally melted that sucker," Faith added with a satisfied grin. "Turns out your intel was right on the money. Fire plus feelings equals one dead ice demon."
Willow's eyes darted to their still-joined hands, a smile blooming across her face. "And it looks like the feelings part worked especially well."
Buffy felt a blush creep up her neck but didn't let go of Faith's hand. "Yeah, well... turns out near-death experiences in Antarctica are pretty clarifying."
"Tell me about it," Tara said softly, her eyes meeting Willow's with unmistakable tenderness.
Anya approached with two steaming mugs. "Here. Post-demon-slaying hot chocolate. I added extra marshmallows because you two finally stopped being idiots about your feelings."
"Anya!" Giles chided, though without much conviction.
"What? It's a compliment," Anya protested, handing the mugs to Buffy and Faith. "Do you know how exhausting it's been watching them dance around each other for years? The longing glances, the unnecessary touching during training sessions, the—
"Anya!" Buffy exclaimed, feeling her cheeks flush hotter.
Faith, however, just laughed, accepting the mug with her free hand. "Thanks for the play-by-play, demon girl."
"Former demon," Anya corrected automatically. "And you're welcome. Someone needed to state the obvious."
Giles cleared his throat, clearly trying to steer the conversation back to safer territory. "Yes, well... I'm glad to see everyone returned safely. Perhaps we should document the encounter with the wraith while it's still fresh in your minds?"
"Always with the homework, G-man," Faith said, but her tone was good-natured as she and Buffy settled into chairs at the research table, their shoulders touching.
As Buffy recounted the battle, she found herself hyperaware of Faith beside her—the way she occasionally added details with animated gestures, how her knee pressed against Buffy's under the table, the lingering scent of leather and something uniquely Faith that had become oddly comforting.
"And then Buffy smashed its core with the sledgehammer," Faith concluded. "Game over."
"Fascinating," Giles murmured, jotting notes in his journal. "The creature's vulnerability to authentic emotional connection is particularly interesting. It suggests a symbiotic relationship between supernatural manifestations and human psychological states."
"Or maybe it just means feelings matter," Tara offered quietly.
Willow smiled at her. "I like your interpretation better."
The group fell into a comfortable silence, sipping their hot chocolate. Outside, the night had deepened, stars appearing in the clear sky—all traces of the unnatural cold completely gone.
"Well," Giles finally said, closing his journal, "I believe that concludes our business for tonight. Unless there are other apocalyptic threats I should know about?"
"Just the usual Tuesday night in Sunnydale," Buffy replied with a tired smile.
As they gathered their things to leave, the group naturally separated into pairs—Willow and Tara whispering softly to each other as they collected spell ingredients, Giles and Anya discussing inventory, and Buffy and Faith standing somewhat awkwardly by the door.
"So," Faith said, rocking slightly on her heels."Your place still open for that talk?" Faith asked, her casual tone belied by the uncertainty in her eyes.
Buffy nodded, the flutter in her stomach both terrifying and exhilarating. "Definitely. Though fair warning—Dawn's probably still up, and she has the subtlety of a sledgehammer."
"Hey, sledgehammers worked pretty well for us tonight," Faith replied with a grin.
They said their goodbyes to the others, enduring knowing smiles from Willow and Tara and a not-so-subtle thumbs up from Anya. The night air felt mild after their Antarctic adventure as they walked side by side through Sunnydale's quiet streets.
"Strange day," Buffy observed, breaking the comfortable silence that had settled between them.
Faith laughed softly. "B, in what universe is 'strange day' not the definition of Slayer life?"
"Fair point," Buffy conceded, smiling. "But even by our standards, we teleported to Antarctica and came back with..." she hesitated, suddenly unsure how to define what had changed between them.
"With something worth fighting for?" Faith suggested quietly.
Buffy smiled and slid her hand into her fellow slayers. “Yes Faith, with someone worth fighting for.”
ILLYRIAN
Thanks for the introduction.
