Within the darkness, Shego attacks, her energy strikes flashing like lightning.

Cave-dust enters Shego's nostrils. She hacks.

"Where are you…"

Shego brightens the energy-glow one of her raised hands. Her eyes shining, feral.

"Come on out, Kimmy…" she snarl-laughs. "Let's finish this."

In the glow, Shego notices a shadow shifting. Her grin turns vicious.

"Kiiiimmy…"

She jumps into where Kim must be hiding. Before anything else, there's a low, sharp intake of breath.

Shego frowns, lowering her green-glow swirling hand.

No, that's not right. There's Kim, and Kim doesn't get up from crouching down behind a boulder, not looking at Shego, occasionally touching the side of her visibly bleeding head. Worry in her eyes. 

Silent tears illuminate a gaunt-like green on Kim's features.

"Don't be such a baby. You're fine." 

Shego grabs her arm, forcing Kim to woozily stand up. 

For a moment, Shego feels where she burned Kim through her uniform-sleeve, marking her, damaging and softening the top layer of her flesh. 

Kim stifles a cry behind her lips, still silent. 

"Seriously… you've been in worse situations than this, haven't you? It's a stupid cave-in. Think your way out of it. You always do."

"Leave me alone…"

Shego groans, hating how defeated Kim sounds. She is, and clearly bleeding from a rock hitting her head, but it's Kim Possible.

A hero.

A hero doesn't give up.

"Fantastic," Shego says dryly, yanking on Kim's upper arm. "Guess I'm doing the thinking today."

*

The tunnels should have withstood any blast, foreign or Drakken-made.

Getting more and more irritated, Shego fires at the heavy and fallen stalactites broken at their feet. Her fingers constantly glowing.

It's the only light so far.

The only way to navigate out of here…

"I can't believe this…" she mutters, glaring at Kim a few feet behind her.

Besides the gigantic bloody cut, Shego doesn't think Kim's suffered a concussion during all of this. She's not acting woozy anymore. Her legs unshaking. Kim's tears already have dried up, much to Shego's relief… that she refuses to admit was ever there. Hell no.

"Would you hurry it up, princess? I'm not gonna carry you." Shego complains, watching Kim avoid more rocks, "Heroing is your shtick."

"You could just go ahead without me, Shego—"

"—don't tempt me," Shego cuts a now bewildered Kim off, jerking her head.

*

When there's a patch of light, Shego 'woops!' in victory.

"Stay back," she orders, gently pushing Kim aside—and shockingly enough, Kim listens and does what she's told without being snarky.

If only this happened more often…

Shego projects her bright green-glow energy into the crack of the tunnel's siding, erupting it open.

Behind them, that tunnel completely collapses.

She looks around, finding a truck parked nearby in sunlight and a cavernous opening to fresh air. "I'd offer a ride, Kimmy, but…" Shego winks, delighted by Kim's familiar eye-roll "…as they say, finders keepers." 

Disappearing for a moment, Shego lugs out the truck's medical kit.

"You can have this though."

"Gee, thanks," Kim mumbles. 

In the light, Shego can see the blood dampening Kim's orangeish hair. She clears her throat awkwardly. This is her nemesis… why does it matter if she's hurt?

"If I see Stoppable, I'll send him your way."

The engine roars on.

Kim opens her mouth, and Shego mockingly wags a finger—

"—ah, ah, pretend this NEVER happened or I'll barbecue you alive when I see you next—"

From the rear-view mirror, she spots Kim waving.

It's new.

"Oh, this…"

Faith walks straight out of the historian's office, gawking.

This… isn't Sunnydale. Or at least the Sunnydale she knows and exists in. Faith senses the tingle of dark magic. Maple Court, overflowing with the date night crowd on a Saturday, is now emptied. No working streetlights. Garbage scattered around Faith's feet, blowing away.

"You gotta be kidding me," Faith mutters aloud.

She's gonna strangle Willow. Violently.

Or… whoever the hell did this…

Faith remembers being up on the top floor, alongside the Mayor, facing off against Buffy and most of her friends. Some… some magical artifact. Faith can't remember that part. Her mind feels woozy. 

A trans-dimensional portal? Spell gone bad after cooking for too long?

Aggravated, she huffs up to the curb, and then knocked aside as a leather-dressed couple stroll by. Their arms snugly around each other.

They turn.

Faith's blood goes cold.

"You two…" she growls, menacingly cracking her knuckles. "Perfect. I needed to vent out a little aggravation."

Xander tilts his head, far too calm. And since when did he wear eyeliner?

"Look, Will," he says dully. "It wants to play."

Willow leers.

Faith's eyes dart to her cleavage practically spilling out. Damn.

"She's so pretty…"

"Pretty pissed off is what I am," Faith snaps, approaching, then lurching backwards when Willow's face vamps out. "Oh, what the SHIT—!?" 

Another person high-kicks themselves in, spinning and packing enough force in their blows to send the vampires of Buffy's old BFFs flying into the asphalt. Xander grabs onto a vamped-out Willow, hissing ferociously. He takes off.

Faith opens her mouth, then gawks. Again.

"Yes, well… very good," Giles mumbles, scrambling for the large wooden stake Buffy harshly throws at him. "It seems that your training in Cleveland has not been lacking, if anything… has your Watcher warned you about—"

"Shut up," Faith (and Buffy, at the same time) blurt out.

They glance at each other, suspicious.

"Don't tell him to shut up," Buffy says nastily, and Faith mock-laughs.

"B, you don't want any of this right now… I could tear you apart." She points to Giles. "And I'll make your little Watcher watch."

Despite the threat, neither of Faith's enemies seem concerned.

"… she's like Cordelia," Giles concludes, eerily knowing.

Buffy warily crosses her arms.

"Guess you were right about how things are supposed to be different, Jeeves…" she monotones.

Faith shakes her head, scowling.

"Would any of you chuckleheads mind EXPLAINING?"

*

They do.

Well, this universe's version of Giles does.

Faith half-listens, gazing up while Buffy prowls the downstairs of Giles' apartment. She didn't expect Buffy to look or act the same… except Faith did. 

There's no cheerful smile, or quips, or Buffy-esque levels of blind faith optimism.

"So… the Master never dies," Faith repeats. "I'm not called."

Giles hums.

"That appears to be correct, yes."

"Fantastic."

"Miss Summers," Giles addresses her, nodding. "I contact the others. Would you mind staying here with, erm, her?"

Buffy shrugs again, not answering, and he must be taking that as a yes—Faith sees him head out the door. "What's your problem, B? Huh? I've never seen you act that coldly to your Watcher before."

"He's not my Watcher." Buffy's eyes narrow. "And stop calling me that."

Faith smirks, tossing aside a couch-cushion while getting nearer.

"Whaddya gonna do about it? Huh?"

Buffy gets into Faith's face this time, glaring. But she's not making any moves. 

Faith keeps a hand on her own belt, within reach of her new favorite dagger, and doesn't move either. She wants to revel in Buffy's darkness. The thing that was always there and that Buffy denied she had like Faith had. 

But… a part of Faith can't. There's nothing in Buffy's eyes. No emotion. She's shut off like Faith had been after her first human kill.

Faith clears her throat, glancing down to Buffy's grey tank-top.

"That your blood?" she rasps.

And, no, Faith isn't concerned by asking…

(Even if she is. It's like a bad habit. It's like trying to quit smoking, and by the next night, Faith savors the cigarette on her lips.)

"Couldn't save someone. It is what it is," Buffy speaks like she's been numbed on the inside. "We fight, we die."

Faith thumbs a bloodstain, curling her hand around the hem of Buffy's ruined top and yanking a little. "You'd make a great motivational speaker…"

Buffy snorts, her nostrils flaring.

No, it happened—Buffy did smile, Faith thinks, amused. A crappy-looking smile, but it was a smile.

"Faith, has anyone ever told you… how much of a bitch you are?"

"Only in bed," Faith says sneering, tapping her nose affectionately against Buffy's. She ducks a grab, and then twists Buffy's arm, yanking again. Mouths crash together. Faith moans, grabbing tightly onto Buffy, feeling the other Slayer's hands in Faith's hair. There's no getting enough of her.

*

Magic crackles underneath Faith's skin.

She disappears and reappears in the historian's office with no Mayor in sight.

Faith holds in the urge to strangle.