Buffy walks around Faith's apartment. There are boxes everywhere, and it's daytime. Smells like a dream sequence. A cat jumps into the picture, and Buffy asks who's going to look after him. Faith's voice cuts in that "it's a she, and aren't these things supposed to take care of themselves?" She walks into the picture, and she and Buffy have a cryptic conversation. Rather than dissect every word, I'll simply transcribe it and try to make some sense of it after:
Buffy: A higher power guiding us?
Faith: I'm pretty sure that's not what I meant.
Buffy: There's something I'm supposed to be doing.
Faith: Oh, yeah. Miles to go. Little Miss Muffet counting down from seven-three-oh.
Buffy: Great. Riddles.
Faith: Sorry. It's my head. A lot of new stuff. [An image of Faith lying in the hospital bed flashes where the cat is, then flashes back. Faith looks out the window.] They're never gonna fix this, are they?
Buffy: What about you?
Faith: Scar tissue. It fades. It all fades. [Buffy looks at her own open palm. The bloody knife appears on top of it, then disappears.] You wanna know the deal? Human weakness. It never goes away. Even his.
Buffy, smiling: Is this your mind or mine?
Faith, laughing: Beats me. Gettin' towards that time.
Buffy: How are you gonna fit all this stuff?
Faith: Not gonna. It's yours.
Buffy: I can't use all of this.
Faith: Just take what you need. You ready?