They were slow dancing to no music, arms snug around each other's waist, holding each other close. Buffy's head was resting on Faith's shoulder, and Faith's head was tilted down to Buffy's, dark strands mingling with blonde. Eyes closed, hands clasped tightly, they swayed in slow circles, thumbs stroking backs and waists.
No words were spoken; none were needed, for both felt the other woman's heartbeat against her own and understood its nonverbal message. In those nearly suspended moments in time, there was no lead and no follow… just the Chosen Two, dancing to the rhythm of their own making.