"Timelines," Anya almost shrugged, though some sympathy appeared on her face. "They're always changing. That's really why we're here, to try to change it for the better."
Because more than anything, Anya wanted to be free of the image of Buffy on television, in chains strong enough to hold a Slayer, as she was executed, the terrified human world screaming for her blood. In many ways that image was the worst. Even with everyone else who had died, it had been the first, the beginning of the end.
The witch glanced up at Faith as she came down the stairs, suppressing her emotions again at the sight of the brunette Slayer. A lifetime ago she had been jealous of her. Seemed so petty now. "Hello Faith," she kept her voice even, devoid of any emotion.
"Hello Anya from the future," Faith's own tone was still wary, though she trusted Buffy's judgment. The other Slayer wasn't stupid, if she said this was Anya then it was Anya. "What's going on?"
Her question was directed more to Buffy than Anya or Lauren, directed at the person she actually trusted in this weirdass situation.