Chapter Text
“Faith!”
Her name came out like a squeak, a keening note of pleasure that Buffy would probably have been embarrassed about if she had the ability to think about anything but the furious orgasm consuming all of her attention. Faith could feel all of it so intensely as Buffy pulsed around the three fingers still buried inside of her—through the Slayer connection, it was almost like the fireworks were moving up and down her own spine, rather than Buffy’s.
This aspect of their connection was a very pleasant surprise that they had explored with gusto the past few weeks, and Faith couldn’t get enough of it. She was thoroughly exhausted at this point, having lost count of how many times Buffy had come tonight, but as Buffy finished riding it out against her hand, Faith chuckled softly against her chest.
The best response Buffy could manage was a displeased whine between heavy breaths, no doubt assuming Faith was laughing at her. “Poor baby,” Faith teased, pressing soft kisses to Buffy’s still raw nipple where her teeth had previously been at work. “It’s a good laugh, B. Think that was your strongest one yet.” Buffy smiled at that, but immediately frowned as Faith gently pulled her hand free.
“What if I wasn’t done with that hand?” she panted petulantly. Faith rolled her eyes as she brought her hand to her lips, eager to taste Buffy again. Then she collapsed to the bed next to Buffy, pressing herself into the blonde’s side as Faith stretched her hand to work the tension from her fingers.
“Who fuckin’ knew you had this in you.” Faith felt entirely spent. She could tell Buffy was too, despite the bravado. They both needed a moment to breathe. To collect themselves. She could barely feel her limbs at this point, and the sheets around them were soaked through with sweat and other evidence of their night of passion. But still her body hungered to move against Buffy again, to share in that release again and again and again. It felt like she would never have enough of Buffy.
Sex had never been like this with anyone before. Faith’s mind raced through the many intimate moments she had shared with Buffy in the last weeks. After they defeated Adam, it was like the dam broke. All that chemistry that had threatened to consume them back when they had first started fooling around returned with a fury, and the Slayers had been hooked on each other ever since.
Stolen moments between patrols and classes. Bedrooms, bathrooms, closets, cemeteries. Sometimes it felt like they just couldn’t keep their hands off each other. It was a new experience for Faith. “Get some, get gone” had been her rule. Most of her other sexual experiences had been with men and ranged from deeply violating to moderately satisfying. She had been with a few women before Buffy, but even then, she had never felt quite safe enough to let any of them in. She was always the aggressor, and everything was always on her terms. Only once had she gone back for repeat performances, and that had only been to satisfy an urge. None of it had really meant much of anything, now that Faith was thinking about it.
But as much as the Slayers had been going at it on the regular lately, none of it could match the raw, relentless need coursing through her right then. Tonight, it was like nothing in the world existed but Faith and Buffy and the ways they could make each other feel.
She wondered if Buffy could feel it, too.
Blue eyes blinked open, and Buffy shifted so she could look at Faith. “Hey you,” she whispered, her soft voice contrasting the hungry look in her gaze. It sent a thrill down Faith’s back, and she ground against Buffy’s hip as her body roared back to life. That answers that question, she thought.
“Hey yourself, girlfriend.” Her tone was all bravado, but for all her desire, she could still hardly move. Both of them struggled to catch their breath. Buffy slipped a hand around Faith’s neck, her fingers stroking softly through soft brown waves. The sensation was beyond sweet, even though Faith could feel the subtle tremor in Buffy’s fingers that betrayed her own exhaustion.
Then Buffy’s nails dug a little harder into her scalp, drawing a sharp hum of pleasure from Faith. Her body screamed at her to stop thinking and lose herself in Buffy again. Before she could move, though, Buffy captured her lips again. Faith opened to Buffy, who immediately pressed her tongue in and curled its tip along the roof of Faith’s mouth.
Just like that, all her thoughts faded away. She held Buffy tighter, nails pressing into soft flesh as Buffy pulled Faith’s hips down and into the thigh she slipped between Faith’s legs. Faith broke their kiss with a throaty moan, and their bodies wasted no time finding a rhythm. Ever since the body swap, they had been uniquely and powerfully in sync. Physically, at least. Whether slaying or fucking, everything felt so much more natural.
“B,” she gasped, grabbing Buffy’s hand and moving it from her hip. “I want—I need you to touch me. Need your fingers.” She had barely released Buffy’s hand when she felt three fingers slide into her with minimal resistance. Faith stifled a chuckle against Buffy’s neck, sucking hard at her pulse point. At this point, she had no idea how they both hadn’t collapsed from dehydration alone.
Pushing herself against Buffy’s hand, Faith let her head fall back against a pillow as Buffy moved so she could maneuver her arm more comfortably. In most aspects of her life, Faith still struggled to fully let down all her walls with Buffy. But not with this. Another big difference from any of her previous experiences—Faith was more than happy to let Buffy have her way with her. And Buffy seemed plenty eager to do just that. Her ponytail tickled Faith’s skin as Buffy snagged Faith’s nipple between her teeth. Faith’s head spun with lust, and her back arched up from the bed to press more into Buffy. Her hips rocked against Buffy’s thrusts. Neither of them realized that the party’s loud music had long since stopped.
Faith was practically delirious from the pleasant ache all through her body. Time had long since ceased being a real thing for her and Buffy—all that mattered was wet heat and sweaty skin and feeling as close to each other as possible. Pleasure building and releasing and building again.
But just as Faith felt herself clench against Buffy, body ready to fall off the cliff into blinding pleasure yet again, everything shifted. Two sharp thuds against the door echoed through the room, and Buffy stopped moving her arm as the door sprang open on the third blow. Faith groaned her displeasure as the building sensation vanished, and Buffy was already shifting to face the door, yanking the sheet back up to her chest.
“Dammit, Xander! Don’t you knock?”
Faith sat up enough to get a good view of the open door, and sure enough, Xander and Anya were standing there. Xander was soaking wet and breathing heavily while Anya looked as annoyed as Faith had ever seen her. But before she could ask why they were interrupting so rudely, both of them turned and walked away. Leaving the door wide open.
“What was that about?” Faith asked, baffled.
Buffy scooted closer, careful to keep the sheet pressed to her chest. “No idea. What happened to the party? Have we been in here that long?”
Faith chuckled. “Well, I feel like I can barely move, so there’s that.”
Buffy groaned, hiding her face against Faith’s shoulder. “This is so mortifying. Why didn’t anyone knock? Whose bedroom is this, anyway?”
Faith pressed a kiss to the crown of her head. “Fuck if I know. You’re the college girl. Who even got the invite for this little shindig?”
“Willow. She’s lab partners with one of the sorority girls.”
Faith slipped out from under the sheets and hurried around the edge of the room to go close the door. She froze, however, as she took in the scene beyond the door. “B, you’re gonna want to get dressed. Looks like we got a situation out here.”
The Slayers dressed quickly and exited the bedroom. The hallway leading to the stairs was covered in thick vines, so dark and gross that they almost looked more like tentacles. They were pulsing, slower and slower as if dying, and had clearly been hacked apart to make a path to the door of the bedroom. “What the hell is going on?” Buffy grumbled.
“Hell is probably right, whatever it is,” Faith answered. “What happened to the party? Why didn’t anyone come and get us before things got this bad?”
Before they reached the end of the hallway, Buffy grabbed Faith’s arm. Her cheeks were bright red in the most adorable way. “What if they tried, and we just couldn’t hear them because we were being too loud—” she paused and her eyes darted all around before she continued in a sharp whisper, “—with all of the sex!”
Faith bit her lip and slipped her arms over Buffy’s shoulders. “You know, you’re pretty cute when you get all bashful. Don’t get to see this side of you very often.”
Buffy’s eyes went wide, and she immediately broke free and stalked towards the stairs. “This isn’t funny, Faith! Look around at this disaster!” Even though the tentacle vines were shriveling up and deteriorating, downstairs was a mess, as if the party had been abandoned quickly. Books and cups and all sorts of random objects were scattered about haphazardly, almost as if the sorority house had been the site of an earthquake. But that was impossible—surely, they would’ve felt that. Rather than continue questioning an empty room about what had happened, the Slayers rushed out the door.
Anya and Xander were nowhere to be seen, but Faith immediately felt something off in their surroundings. “Go ahead, catch up to Anya and Xander,” she told Buffy. “I’ll be right behind you.” Buffy gave her a questioning look, and Faith gave her a soft nod that she was fine. As Buffy took off through campus, Faith crept around the corner of the sorority house to find Spike leaning casually against a wall, smoking a cigarette like nothing was amiss.
“Spike. Why am I not surprised to find you lurking near whatever—” Faith gestured wildly at the house, “—happened in there.”
“Think the better question might be how you and the Slayer—sorry, the blonde Slayer I mean—were so distracted that you missed out on a bunch of sexually repressed poltergeist types using you two as a battery for party mischief.”
She rolled her eyes and leaned against the wall. “Give me one of those,” she demanded, gesturing at his cigarette. He mimicked her eye roll pointedly but reached into his duster and opened the pack towards her. She pulled out a cigarette, and he lit it. She let the silence sink in as she took a long drag, then turned a mischievous grin on the neutered vampire. “Alright be honest, did you help the Scoobies out with that whole thing?”
Spike scoffed. “’Course I didn’t. Can't any one of your damned Scooby club at least try to remember that I hate you all?”
Faith chuckled at that. She was pretty sure she knew better. She’d been around her share of evil vampires, and Spike was different. Not different enough that she’d trust him any farther than she could throw him, but she was also sure she could throw him pretty far. Still, the chip was clearly making a difference, and she didn’t really know what to think of the new Spike. Other than feeling like she owed him, at least a little.
“I wanted to thank you,” she explained, looking away as she breathed out a heavy cloud of smoke. “B told me how you helped get me out of the Ice Queen’s evil lair.”
“I didn’t do it for you, now, did I? I just felt like sticking it to that place. Had bloody nightmares about being trapped there, you know?” Faith cringed, and he nodded. “Course you do. Look who I’m talking to. Sorry.” He blew out a cloud of smoke, and Faith wondered how that worked with a dead set of lungs. “No one deserves what that bint put you through, even if you are a Slayer. Least you’re not as uptight as your little girlfriend.”
She snorted. “You’d be surprised.”
“Oh? Do tell.”
“Ain’t happenin’.” Faith sensed him shrug in response, and they fell back into a companionable silence. Based on his snide explanation of what happened, she guessed that some sort of ghostly something had been feeding off of her and Buffy, keeping them from thinking about anything but more orgasms. Whatever it was, she assumed the Scoobies had handled it eventually.
Good for them, she thought. Then she grinned wildly. B’s gonna to be so adorably mortified when they tell her what was happening around us while we banged for hours. She hoped she wouldn’t miss seeing Buffy’s face when she found out, but she had wanted to talk to Spike for a while now.
“So, what’s the deal with your chip, anyway?”
Faith felt his eyes shift over her body suspiciously, but she kept her gaze on the horizon. She had the sudden feeling that she didn’t want to spook him, even though she was just asking questions.
“Just means I gotta get my violence on with other creepy crawlies in the night is all,” he griped. “I’m sure the Slayer’s groupies told you all about it, no need to go rubbing my face in it.”
“None of that, you’d probably enjoy it too much,” she quips back at him. “And I’m genuinely curious. Doesn’t matter what the Scoobs think, I wanna know what it means for you.”
“Means I gotta deal with daft conversations like this until I find someone smart enough and dumb enough to get this fucking thing out of my head.”
Faith rolled her eyes again but turned to lean her shoulder against the wall so she could get a better read on his body language. “That’s not all there is to it, though. You helped out Giles when his crazy ex turned him into a demon.”
She watched as he stiffened a little, before scowling. “That was a business arrangement, nothing more. Gotta do what I gotta do to get my hands on some blood, thanks to this bloody chip. Believe me, I’d be out there feasting on these silly little college students if I could.”
“That so?” His head turned to face her, distrust clear on his features.
“Yeah,” he growled. “That’s all there is to it, bitch. I don’t like what you seem to be implying.” Spike jammed his cigarette against the brick wall and flicked it away as he turned to storm off.
“Guess we’ll see,” she sang. “But I got a feeling that chip’s changin’ you in ways not even the Ice Queen and her evil minions predicted. And don’t worry, I ain’t looking for any excuse to stake you anymore, not unless you give me a real good reason.”
Spike stopped abruptly. When he turned, his game face was on, and Faith could tell he was furious. “Maybe I’ll just do that, Slayer. Don’t test me.”
“Or what, you’ll glare at me some more?”
He growled, raising his hands in an over-the-top display of his frustration. “You know, Slayer Number 1 has always had a thing for broken people. First Angel, now you. Like she gets off on it. That’s why she couldn’t make it work with the beefcake. She’s into you now because you’re all haunted and hurting from what that bitch Walsh did to you, but eventually, you’ll heal and she’ll get bored of you.”
Faith pushed off the wall and hit him hard across the jaw before she fully realized what she was doing. Spike just laughed it off, clearly enjoying getting a rise out of her. “Trust me, you ever stop being broken, she’ll move on. Hell, maybe she’ll decide I’m her next project,” he sneered.
Now that she knew he was goading her, she backed off. Shows what I get when I try to be nice to someone. When she didn’t rise to his bait, Spike made a disappointed face and turned to walk away. “Be seeing ya, Slayer number two.”
“Don’t fucking call me that!” she shouted after him, and he responded with a two-finger salute. “Fucking Brits,” she muttered under her breath.
The next day, Buffy followed Faith home after their patrol had failed to present much evil to defeat. It was still fairly early, and after the Slayers changed into PJs and finished their bedtime routine, they had joined Anya on the shabby but comfy sofa to watch a movie.
Anya had been disappointed because the movie she chose, Election, was about Ferris Bueller trying to sabotage an uptight girl’s campaign for high school class president and not about “a strange little man living inside a girl’s body” (Anya’s words, not Buffy’s). Anya had apparently chosen the film based on the cover art on the VHS box, rather than actually read the plot summary on the back. All things considered, it was pretty hilarious, and the movie was surprisingly captivating. Buffy didn’t really care for the main girl, but Ferris Bueller was so petty and pathetic that he reminded her of Principal Snyder. So, she tremendously enjoyed watching him fail repeatedly and in increasingly embarrassing ways.
Plus, there was a lesbian character, which Faith loved, and she spent the rest of the movie shitting on the hateful ex-girlfriend who broke her heart. Buffy tried not to take it personally, but she felt deeply uncomfortable at the parallel to their early struggles as a couple. In particular, how terrified of being gay Buffy had been, and the ways she had stomped on Faith’s heart when she was brave enough to be vulnerable about her feelings. She didn’t feel like Faith was trying to hurt her on purpose, but “what a bitch, jumping on the first dumb jock’s dick she could find, just to prove how fuckin’ ‘straight’ she is” felt like it cut particularly close to home.
As Buffy sat between the roommates, with Faith turned so that she could stretch her legs across Buffy’s lap, she pondered whether she and Faith needed to have a chat about any lingering resentment between them. They hadn’t really dug too deep into everything that happened last semester, or Buffy’s idiotic idea to date Riley, since they’d gotten together. There was just so much going on with Faith’s PTSD and worrying about if and when the Initiative might be after them again. But Buffy wondered if maybe she had also been avoiding the conversation, too afraid of facing an angry Faith. Things had been going really well between them, especially once they started having sex, and Buffy didn’t want to rock the boat.
“This is boring,” Anya groaned. Her eyes flitted over to the Slayers, lingering on Buffy’s hand where it rested on Faith’s bare thigh. “Tell me about your sex marathon. How do you have sex for hours without stopping? And without noticing anything else going on outside?” She scoffed. “Xander can barely last through 20 minutes, including foreplay.”
Unsurprisingly, Faith chuckled at the same time Buffy blushed. Before Buffy could chide Anya, Faith slapped a hang over her mouth. “That was sort of special situation there, Ahn, what with the poltergeist energy suck mojo keepin’ us going.” Buffy shouted against Faith’s hand, glaring daggers at her girlfriend. Faith just smirked, then bit her lip in the way that always got Buffy a little hot and bothered. Still, Buffy didn’t want Faith to think she was okay with her behavior, so Buffy tried licking her hand. Faith just smirked. “Tryin’ to rev my engine, B? You wanna give Anya a demonstration how good sex can be when you don’t have to put up with lazy, selfish men?”
Faith removed her hand, grinning shamelessly as she waited for Buffy’s answer. “Absolutely not!” she insisted. “And you are so gonna pay for that later.”
“That’s disappointing,” Anya pouted, drawing another amused chuckle from Faith and a scowl from Buffy.
“It’s alright. B threatenin’ me with punishment is basically foreplay for us.”
“Faith!”
“What? Girl’s got a healthy curiosity about the perks of our big ole lezzy lifestyle. It’s flattering, really.” Buffy knew Faith enjoyed pushing her buttons like this, and as much as she pretended to be scolding, she secretly enjoyed it just enough to put up with the slight embarrassment it caused her. However, before she could retort, there was a knock at the door.
Faith jumped up to get it, and Buffy shivered at the loss of her warmth. Faith took one look at the peephole and growled as she unlocked and opened the door. “You got a lot of fuckin’ nerve showin’ up here.”
Buffy rushed to her side and found Spike outside the door, much to her displeasure. "Spike, what the hell do you want?"
Spike just smirked. "Oi, no need for the attitude, Slayers. I come bearing good news, after all. Invite me in.”
“Not happenin’,” Faith sneered. “Now get gone, before I come out there and beat you until you’re the broken one.”
“Faith, hold on.” Buffy grabbed her arm, stepping between her and Spike. She had no idea what Faith meant by the broken comment, and she wondered what was going on between Spike and her girlfriend. Probably just him being a jerk as usual, but she hadn’t ever seen him get under Faith’s skin like this. And she didn’t like it.
“Spike, if you’ve got something to say, say it. Otherwise, leave, or I’ll let Faith beat you up as much as she wants.”
Spike backed away from the door, his hands in the air. “Whoa now. And here I’m trying to help you lot out.” Buffy looked back at Faith and nodded, giving her permission to do whatever she wanted to Spike. “Alright! Alright. Been stalking the military types, and I’ve got some information to trade.”
“Trade?” Buffy marveled at Spike’s audacity. Faith, on the other hand, just bristled at the suggestion.
“How ‘bout I just beat the info out of you?” She stepped through the door and grabbed him, shoving him against the invisible barrier keeping him out of her home.
“You want a punching bag, I don’t mind playin’ along, Slayer Two. Bit of pain’ll get me going real nice.” Faith looked like she was going to vomit, and she threw him hard against the concrete landing before stepping back into the apartment.
Buffy stepped close and put a hand to her cheek. “What’s up with the aggression thingy? Spike’s a pig, but that’s nothing new.” Faith pulled away, something hesitant and afraid hiding behind her eyes.
“Ain’t a thing, B. Invite the creep in if you want. Impotent little shit can’t hurt any of us anyway.” She headed toward the refrigerator and pulled out a beer. Buffy turned back to Spike, who was on his feet again.
“Come in, Spike. This better be good or I’ll rethink my whole “not staking you” philosophy.” Not wasting any time, he brushed past her and into the apartment, making himself comfy beside Anya on the couch.
“Hey there, pet. You tired of the man child in his basement yet?” Buffy rolled her eyes at Spike’s crass way of flirting, but Anya just shrugged.
“A little.” Before the conversation could veer further into ick territory, Buffy snapped.
“You’re not here to make nice with the roommate, Spike. Get with the talking.”
“Now now, I risked life and limb—well, limb anyway. That’s gotta be worth something.”
“What do you want?”
Spike glanced over at Faith, leaning up against the refrigerator and pointedly ignoring everyone else in the room. Grinning, he turned back to Buffy. “Hmm. A year’s supply of blood, guaranteed protection, merry bushels of cash, and, most important. a guarantee that I'm not to be in any way slain.”
“Fine.”
“With a smile and a nod from you?” He shook his head. “Sorry. Not close to good enough. Gonna need the word of Slayer Two over there, given she’s the one makin’ all the threats of late.”
Buffy stepped forward to get in his face, but Faith’s muttered, “Whatever, you got it, asshole,” stopped her in her tracks. Their eyes met briefly before Faith’s gaze returned to her beer bottle. Definite brooding going on, Buffy thought. We’ll have to do the talking thingy soon. But first…
She glared at Spike, forcing him to spill the beans. “Right. So. I don’t know if you Slayers have noticed, but the local types—demon local types, I mean—been really edgy of late, that’s to Maggie Walsh and her toy soldiers. No one’s really talking ‘bout it, after a couple o’ lilliad demons got taken. Big magic types, so if the Initiative is taken them down, what chance do the rest of us stand?”
Buffy gestured for him to speed the story up. “So like I said, I took to following some of the soldier boys around, real discrete like. Turns out, Walsh is down there working on some unholy combination of magic and new-fangled technology, and not in a good way. Even the soldiers are spooked by it. Sayin’ something’s different with our pal Maggie, something wrong.”
“So what, like Adam but with a wizard hat?”
“Didn’t sound like another Frankenstein-looking thing, but I guess you can’t rule it out. Point is, Walsh’s little toy is clearly bad news, and I figure now Slayer 2 can get some revenge. I go on my merry way a spot wealthier, never to be slain. Everyone wins!”
“You’re so full of shit,” Faith growled, stalking towards him. “Best you can do is ‘fucked up magic techy thing?’” She picked him up by the collar of his shirt, dragging him to the door. Buffy opened it for her, earning herself a sweet smile from her girlfriend. “Nothing on how to stop it. Nothing on how to get to it. Hell, you could be making the whole thing up just to con us out of a nice chunk of cash.” Before he could respond, Faith tossed him over the landing’s balustrade to the ground below.
“What about my money?” he shouted back up at them.
“You want money, go talk to Giles,” Buffy shouted back. “Maybe he’ll take pity on you.” She shut and locked the door behind her and grabbed Faith’s hands before she could move all the back into the living room.
“Hey, hold up,” she whispered, pulling Faith close. “Are you okay? Can we talk tonight, after we go to bed?”
“It’s nothing to worry about, B.” She leaned in and gave Buffy a sweet peck on the lips. “Just in a weird mood.” She kissed her again. “Okay?”
Buffy nodded, only able to muster half a smile. But Faith took her chance to avoid further discussion and took that for agreement. Holding on to one of Buffy’s hands, Faith led her back to the sofa.
“Well that was weird,” commented Anya.
Both Slayers burst into giggles, much to Anya’s confusion.
“Whatever, weirdos. We don’t really have to finish this boring movie, do we?”
“Yes, absolutely we must!”
By the end of the movie, Buffy had already forgotten about Spike’s little intrusion. Quickly falling asleep against the comfortable heat of Faith’s body, she didn’t register the stiff way Faith laid beside her, staying awake early into the morning.
On the second day after Buffy and Faith’s big sex adventure, Buffy paid Xander a visit at his basement, while Faith went to discuss the likelihood of any sort of scary tech magic thing with Willow. It was Sunday morning, so no classes, and Xander had just been let go from his job as a phone sex operator. She was really hoping they could just never talk about it again.
“Hey, Buff,” he greeted. “What can I getcha at casa de me?”
“I’m fine, thanks,” she answered, as always. She had long ago learned her lesson about drinking anything Xander purposefully kept in this basement with himself. Instead, she deposited herself on the orange recliner and kicked up her feet.
“So hey, how are things with Anya going?”
Xander’s whole body spun as he turned a concerned gaze on me, before immediately trying to pretend he was completely fine. “Things are, uh, great! Why? What did you hear?”
“Oh no,” Buffy assured, half-heartedly. She hoped it wasn’t that obvious. “I haven’t heard anything, just, you know, doing the bro-ey thing. Like, hey bro, how’s your hot girlfriend, bro?”
Buffy was pretty sure he bought it, because he turned back to his minifridge and grabbed himself a beer, then sat across from her on the sofa bed. “Things are pretty good, I guess. It’s still super weird to be dating a former demon, but it’s kinda fun. Disturbing how much I know about the sexual behaviors of the various French royals. But yeah, good.”
“Oh, that’s c-cool. Very cool. Not weird at all, very valid.” Buffy winced. “Um, speaking of, uh, sexual behaviors, uh … hey! We’ve both got girlfriends. We’re adults now. We can just, like, chat … about sex stuff … in a totally bro way, right?”
Xander turned pale. “I mean, when you put it like that…”
“Right! Totally normal. Fun, even!” The two friends avoided each other’s gaze. “So then, how’s the sex stuff, you know, with Anya? I mean, she’s like a thousand years old or whatever, she’s gotta know some … neat, uh, tricks, right?”
“What?!”
“Oh, I just mean, she’s probably really good at the sex! On account of all that experience. That’s fun, yay you!”
“Uh sure, Buff.” Xander paused. “Did you … I mean, do you really want me to ask about, well…”
Buffy’s eyes bulged. “No, thanks. Uh, that’s okay, uh, bro.”
“Yeah, that checks out.” He opened a bag of chips that had been sitting on the coffee table and shoved several in his mouth. After he swallowed, he asked, “You don’t think…? I mean, Anya’s the only girl I’ve—and you’re right, she has to have been with a lot of guys, given how old she is. We’ve totally talked about that, like two adults and stuff. I’m totally not feeling at all inadequate right now.” He licked his lips. “I mean, I’m her guy. She chose me first, you know. And she’s still around, so I must be pretty good, right?”
“Oh definitely,” Buffy reassured. “That makes total sense. I’m sure you and Anya talk about that stuff all the time, so she’d let you know if you were doing something wrong, right? When I ask Faith what she likes, that usually goes pretty well for me, you know?”
Buffy made a face. She hadn’t meant to offer up any anecdotes about her own life; it just sorta came out. “Well, we did try out some stuff the last week, on account of the whole phone sex thing.” There it is, Buffy mused. But then her brain filled with thoughts of Faith and the things she had done to Faith while they were locked in the haunted sorority house, so much so that she didn’t even notice that Xander was still talking to her.
“Yeah, totally,” she answered, hoping his pause had indicated that he asked a question. “I could use some advice, though. If you don’t mind.”
She glanced up at him, then continued, “I think something’s bothering Faith. About me, and like, how I did the whole “I’m definitely not gay, sorry about your feelings Faith but I’m gonna date a guy I don’t even like very much instead” thingy before she was kidnapped by said guy’s creepy boss, who tortured her for a couple of weeks and broke her spirit. N-not that I think she’s broken. She doesn’t think that, does she? But then she got all grumpy when Spike showed up to her and Anya’s place last night, and she said something about—”
“Why was Spike at Anya’s place last night? And why do you know this, but I don’t?” Buffy blinked, then shot Xander a confused look.
“What?” Xander was on his feet, and he almost seemed terrified. But that couldn’t be right. It was just Spike. Why was everyone taking Spike so seriously lately?
“Why was Spike invited to your little girls’ night? Especially, after she canceled on me because she didn’t think I’d ‘get’ the movie. Is Spike one of the girls now? I thought I was the only guy who got to be one of the girls!”
“You are the only guy who gets to be one of the girls,” Buffy responded. “We absolutely did not invite Spike over for girls’ night.” She shook her head, the memory of how unnerved Faith seemed vivid in her mind. “He just showed up to sell us information about Walsh and piss Faith off. He barely even talked to Anya, and anyways, she just said that stuff because she was trying to distract us from the movie. She was probably just being weird—I doubt she meant anything she said.”
Buffy thought maybe she had pulled off that explanation, but Xander’s bright red face said otherwise. “Spike talked to Anya?! Wait, what things? What did Anya say?!”
“N-nothing,” Buffy stammered, then she winced. She shouldn’t lie to Xander. And if he knew what Anya was thinking, he could just do better, right? So in that way, it was for his own good. Definitely. “J-just that she, uh, had some complaints about the … well, I guess, like, the length—”
“Oh god!”
“No! Not like that!” Buffy groaned. “The amount of time, I think. Like I guess she wants … more sex? And you can totally do that, and fun for everyone, because wow, sex is fun, right? But yeah, that’s, uh, am I making this any better?”
“No offense, Buff, but it’s probably a little different when it’s two girls. I mean, how do you guys even?—” Xander wilted under Buffy’s icy stare. “Right, none of my business. Shouldn’t have asked.” He sank back onto the sofa. “I just … I don’t know if I have the energy to keep up with her sometimes.” He paled. “What if she leaves me for a girl? Clearly, that’s the cool thing to do now. First Willow, now you and Faith. Who needs a guy anymore if you can have a girl.” He grinned. “I mean, I get that. I love girls. Girls are the best. So confusing though.”
“Oh yeah, we’re a big ole mystery,” Buffy snarked. “We like to be treated well and sometimes we get horny, very difficult to understand.”
Xander continued to bemoan his situation, wondering aloud about all the kinds of kinky things Anya probably liked that he just didn’t think he would be down for. Buffy very intentionally tuned out his discussion of such things, thinking instead that he hadn’t even answered her question.
What was Faith’s deal? Why was she suddenly so mad at Spike? And when did she start back with the emotional façades and the lying about her feelings.
Buffy just hoped she would open up to her soon. She knew if she forced the issue, Faith’s temper could be an issue, and she didn’t want to make things worse.
It’s fine, she thought. I’m sure she’ll talk to me soon. I trust her.
Meanwhile, Faith tracked Willow down at the magic shop, and afterward, they stopped at the Espresso Pump to chat. Faith figured as long as she focused on verifying the intel from Spike, she was less likely to get lost in her thoughts. It used to be easy to shut all that down, to silence her racing mind. Today, though, she couldn’t get Spike’s insinuations out of her mind, and it was causing her to question everything about her relationship with Buffy since she busted her out of the Initiative.
But if she could just keep her thoughts concentrated on the mission, she didn’t have to let those doubts control her. Unfortunately, Willow wanted to focus more on last night’s events prior to Spike’s uninvited visit.
“Okay, but, you know Tara and I like movies, too, right?” she pouted. “We weren’t doing much, just studying in Tara’s room. You could’ve invited us.”
“Studying, huh?” Faith leered, drawing a blush from Willow. “I’m flattered you’d rather watch a movie with us than screw your girlfriend over a pile of nerdy textbooks, but it really wasn’t that big a deal, Red.” She shrugged. “Wasn’t even planned or anything. Patrol was a bust, so we headed back to my place early. Ahn happened to have rented a movie. Then Spike crashed a perfectly good evening by being his usual gross self, hangin’ all over Anya and tryin’ to get under my skin with some bullshit. Believe me, you were better off with T-Mac in orgasm town.”
Willow seemed taken aback—Faith wasn’t really sure why—but then Willow conceded. “Okay fine, but next time there’s a girls’ night, let’s include all the girls please?”
“Oh yeah, because your old buddy Xander won’t complain at all about being the only one in the group left out,” Faith snarked.
“Hmm. You’re not wrong.” This time Willow was the one to shrug. “Could be trouble. Speaking of, what’s going on with the Initiative?”
“Right, that’s what I wanted to talk to you about. According to Spike, Walsh is creating some sort of big bad scary somethin’ or other, mixing magic and technology. So, I figured I should come talk to an expert on both.”
Willow smiled brightly. “And that’s me, huh?”
Faith chuckled. “Who else? Guess my first question is whether you think Spike could be telling the truth. Like, big scary magic tech thingy, is that even possible?”
Willow’s lips puckered into a thoughtful expression. “It’s possible, I suppose. I mean, the printing press! Some magic books are printed nowadays, rather than hand-written and bound.”
“Okay but I’m guessin’ with Walsh, we’re talking more laser guns and freaky cyborgs, yeah?”
“Right! Sorry. It’s probably possible, but not something any witch I know would try. I can talk to Tara, though! We’ll think of something.” Willow paused. “Since when did the Initiative get into magic anyway? And how? Buffy said they were skeptical of witches and stuff.”
Faith snorted. “Guess you made an impression, Red. B told me about the big magic you worked to get her out of the Initiative, first time she went down there tryin’ to get me.”
Despite her nonchalance, Faith couldn’t help but wonder at what point during her captivity that little rescue attempt had come, and her mind immediately whirred back into doubt mode. So what if I’m broken, she thought, not even paying attention to the way Willow had gone silent. B was into me before all that. But the voice of doubt in her head, the one that sounded indistinguishable from her own voice, was quick to retort that it wasn’t like she hadn’t been plenty broken when she came to Sunnydale. Maybe she should consider letting Liv shrink her up after all.
Or would Buffy just leave me when I’m no longer broken? she wondered. Just like Spike said.
“You’re not saying it’s my fault Walsh is trying magic now, are you?” The sharp anger in Willow’s tone snapped Faith out of her spiral.
“What?! Of course not. Don’t be stupid,” Faith answered dismissively. She couldn’t believe Willow would think that.
“Stupid, huh?” Willow shook her head, then stood up from her chair. “And I guess I’m just imagining how you and Buffy have been spending all this time with Anya and not me, huh? Willow’s big magic wasn’t good enough to save Faith, but it was sure good enough to give the Ice Queen ideas!”
“Red—Willow!” Faith stood up to follow her. “You’re getting’ this all wrong, okay? We’re not avoiding you or nothing. I live with Anya, kinda hard not to spend time with her, you know? Besides, she’s cool, even if she rubs you the wrong way. You should give her a chance.”
“Oh yeah? Well I live with Buffy, and she’s never there. So … sorryyy if I’m not buying your excuses, Faith. I know you had a hard time after Buffy got you out of there, but it’s been a couple of months. Are you really so broken that you have to go all monopoly on Buffy’s time?”
Faith was so taken aback by the accusation that she didn’t move when Willow turned and stomped away. What the actual fuck is her problem? Deciding that she was already over this day and absolutely done talking to others for the day, Faith headed to the nearest liquor store. Best way to get out of her own head was to get drunk off her ass and listen to the ocean’s waves crash against the rocky side of Kingsman’s Bluff. She hated the anxious feeling in her chest. Needed it gone.
Red and B can figure out their own drama. Leave my broken ass out of it.
Buffy needed to stop by her room before heading out for the night, to change into pants and grab some more clothes to bring to Faith’s. Even though the sun had barely begun to sink below the horizon, the dorm room was dark and candle-lit when she opened the door. Willow and Tara had thrown dark, heavy blankets over the windows and were currently in the process of mixing some sort of dark liquid in a really big wooden bowl.
“Hey guys!” she greeted. “What’s up with the big bowl of darkness?”
Tara smiled at Buffy as she entered, but Willow ignored her entirely. “We’re working on a scrying spell,” Tara explained. “T-to try and see what Walsh might be doing.”
“So Spike could be right about the magic-tech thingy?” Tara nodded, but Willow remained pointedly fixated on her tasks. “Wil? Everything okay?”
Willow snorted derisively, then muttered, “Oh I just figured you weren’t really living here anymore. Too busy with Faith and your new best friend, Anya.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
Willow stood and stepped closer to Buffy. Neither of them noticed Tara flinch at Buffy’s raised tone. “Gee, I wonder,” Willow snapped. “You never have time for me anymore. I’m supposed to be your best friend, but I feel like I only see you when you need help with magic stuff.” Then she gestured angrily at Buffy’s bed. It was perfectly made, possibly with a thin layer of dust settling on top. “When was the last time we had roomie hang out time? Do you even sleep here anymore?”
Buffy bristled. “That’s not even slightly fair. Like you don’t spend most nights in Tara’s room.”
“At least I’m trying! I invited you and Faith to that party and then you completely disappeared to go bang like bunnies!”
“That was because of the sexually repressed ghosts or whatever!”
“Oh no,” Willow simpered, her voice a twisted sing song, “the poltergeists made me have lots of sex with my girlfriend.” She rolled her eyes. “Tara and I were there. Anya and Xander too. Didn’t see us abandoning the group to go get our couply time on.”
Tara stood and stepped tentatively towards the door. “I’m just gonna go use the restroom,” she whispered.
Willow snapped around to face her. “No, baby. It’s okay.” She glared back at Buffy. “I’m sure Buffy needs to go meet up with Faith anyway. She’s the one who should leave.”
Tara forced a small smile to her lips, then leaned in to kiss Willow’s cheek. “It’s o-okay. Sounds like you two need to talk. I’ll be back.” As she left, Buffy tried to calm herself. She felt like Willow was attacking her out of nowhere, but surely there had to be a good reason for why she was feeling so neglected.
Willow’s back was against the now closed door, her body language deflating slightly. Buffy asked, “What’s really going on?”
“I got a call from Xander this afternoon.” From her tone, Buffy could tell it wasn’t a happy conversation.
“I just saw Xander this morning. He seemed fine.”
“Yeah, well, something you said to him set him off. He went to find Spike at his crypt for whatever reason, didn’t quite understand that part… but now he’s convinced that Anya’s cheating on him with Spike.”
Buffy’s eyes bulged out of her head. “WHAT?!”
“I’m not really surprised,” Willow grumbled. “Faith made it sound like he was all over Anya last night. She’s a former demon, makes sense the evil dead would be her idea of a good time.”
“Willow!” Buffy scolded. “That’s not even close to fair. Anya’s not like that. I mean, sure, she’s a big ole weirdo, but …” Buffy paused, trying to remember how Anya reacted to Spike being all icky towards her. It wasn’t like she jumped away or anything, Buffy thought, then shook her head. “No, I’m sure there’s nothing going on between her and Spike.”
“Maybe not.” Buffy could hear that Willow didn’t really believe her own words. “But still, she’s hurting him. He said they haven’t been hanging out as much, and we both feel like …”
“Like what?”
“Like our little group is falling apart,” she pouted, then walked over and dropped onto her bed. “I miss the school library and the Scooby meetings and Oz and even Cordelia, if you can believe it. It’s been months since any of us talked to Oz, even though he’s still around, and—and Giles is doing his own thing with his new girlfriend. Anya doesn’t seem as into Xander anymore, ever since she moved in with Faith. And since everything with Faith and the Initiative, you’ve been in full-time girlfriend mode.”
“Faith needed me,” Buffy responded gently, keeping a tight lid on her anger at Willow’s callousness towards Faith. “You have no idea what she went through down there.”
“Yeah, okay, that’s a good point,” Willow conceded, and Buffy could see the regret in her eyes. “Sorry. But it’s been months, and Faith seems a lot better, but it still feels like you’re always over at her and Anya’s place.” She glanced around wistfully. “The semester’s almost over, and we haven’t even talked about whether we’re gonna be roommates next year.”
Buffy pushed softly at Willow’s shoulder, then climbed onto the bed next to her as she shifted over. She took Willow’s hand in hers. “I’m sorry.” Buffy closed her eyes. “Honestly, I’m not sure about the whole next year thingy. Like at all. I haven’t talked to anyone about this, not even Faith, but I—” Her lips curled sideways, and she sighed before meeting Willow’s gaze again. “I think maybe the college life isn’t really for me, you know?”
Willow looked terrified, so Buffy squeezed her hand. “But I’m not sure. No decisions made yet. I promise. And no matter what, you’ll always be my best friend, okay?”
Finally, Willow nodded. “Okay.”
They shared a smile, and Buffy pulled Willow into a warm but awkward hug, given how they were situated on the tiny bed. “Now, I actually do need to meet Faith. We’re going to touch base with Giles and talk strategy about the big evil brewing before patrol. And I’d invite you along, but I can hear your girlfriend waiting around outside so you can finish the big magic bowl of darkness.”
“Right!” Willow sat up, and Buffy stood from the bed. “Are you, uh, staying over at Faith’s?” Buffy hesitated, not wanting to bring back shouty Willow. “It’s fine if you are,” Willow quickly added. “I just thought that maybe you could call us after patrol. In Tara’s room. Hopefully, we’ll have more information about Walsh.”
“You got it!”
Buffy quickly changed and shoved some clothes into an overnight bag, before saying goodbye to the two witches. As she left, Buffy felt tremendous relief at the lightened mood of the room. If Walsh really was cooking up something big and bad, the last thing she needed was her friends mad at her. Fortunately, the crisis seemed to have been averted fairly easily.
It didn’t take long to reach Giles’s flat. The sun had just fallen below the horizon, but the navy sky was still lit with telltale pinks and purples. She could hear soft, simple music playing inside, little more than a guitar and a pleasant, masculine voice. It’s going to be a good night, Buffy thought to herself, then opened the unlocked front door and stepped inside.
To her surprise, the voice was Giles’s. She moved inside and silently shut the door behind her. The living space was moody, lit only by the two lamps closest to Giles, who was perched on the arm of his sofa. He was facing the fireplace and hadn’t yet noticed her. The song he was playing sounded soulful but full of regret, and while Buffy was sure she had heard it, she couldn’t place the song.
“And if I stay here with you girl,
Things just couldn’t be the same.
‘Cause I’m as free as a bird, now,
And this bird you cannot change,
Oh oh oh oh.”
Giles kept playing, but his voice trailed off. His head bobbed along as if he could hear the beat of the song in his head. Sensing a chance to announce herself, Buffy stepped forward and chirped, “Hey Giles! You’re pretty good with that thing.”
To his credit, Giles did not scream. But Buffy definitely noticed his sharp intake of breath and the way his hands fumbled with the guitar as he jerked up in surprise. Giles then shook his head and blinked several times in Buffy’s general direction.
“Buffy?” he mumbled confusedly.
“That’s me,” she answered brightly, shooting him a big, genuine smile. “I didn’t know you were all, you know, with the musicy thing. Bet Olivia’s really into it, huh?”
Giles finished setting down the guitar and turned to face her. “Quite. It really gets her—” he caught himself and frowned. “None of your business.”
“Oookay,” she responded, not sure why he was being snippy. “Is Faith here yet?”
“Faith?” he asked, sounding surprised. “Actually, she’s usually the one making innuendo and digging into my personal life. Not to mention, flirting with—bloody hell, did you two switch bodies again?”
“Ha ha, very funny,” Buffy deadpanned. Giles picked up a glass from the coffee table and began pouring himself a drink. Her nose wrinkled, thinking of the time Faith had tried to get her to try some of it, only for Buffy to get grossed out by the smell of it alone and pushed it away the instant it got too close to her nostrils. Oddly, though, she didn’t mind the smell or taste of it on Faith’s breath.
Giles took a sip, swallowed, then moved forward and sat on one of the bar stools. “Well? I s’pose you’re here asking for money as well?”
Maybe she was imagining it, but she thought she could almost smell the scotch on Giles, like he was radiating it from his pores. That’s not how that works, right? she wondered internally, unable to recall anything she had learned in high school biology. Smelly pores would be a biology thing, I’m pretty sure. Then her brain focused on what Giles had actually said.
“It hadn’t occurred to me to ask you for money, but if you’re offering, there was this really cute pair of shoes I saw—” Giles grunted and made a face at her, like she had insulted his glasses or something. “Sorry. Wait, who was asking you for money?”
She knew it couldn’t have been Faith, who was too proud to take money from anyone but Joyce. And that had stopped when Faith had saved enough money from working at the Gallery to provide for herself.
“Spike,” he groused. “You told him I would pay him for information. Information he refused to tell me, because what would a retired librarian like me need with that? Said he had already told the Slayers what they needed to know.” He snorted. “He was being dodgy, so I told him to sod off. Then he told me this long-winded story about something called ‘girls’ night.’” He took another sip, then cast a languorous expression of blame at her. “He really would not shut up. I had to throw him out of my flat, right into the sunlight. Showed him who was boss.”
“I bet you did,” Buffy snarked, moving to boop his nose but then thinking better of it. She felt uncomfortable at the revelation. Why was everyone bugging out about this one random night? “Why are you hanging out with Spike anyway?” she whined.
“Because apparently you told him I’m the bloody piggy bank for the Slayers.” Giles finished off his drink and got up to pour himself another. Buffy sensed that she needed to tread far more carefully, even if she was royally pissed off at Spike for causing all this trouble. He was the easiest person to blame for it, anyway.
“Giles, I wasn’t being serious. It was a quip. You know how I do the quippy thing with the bad guys.” Buffy made her voice sterner. “You wanna get paid, go talk to Giles about that.” She frowned, realizing now how that sounded. “Sorry, I genuinely didn’t think he would actually come beg you for money. Or stick around and tell you stories about him showing up and being all weird and annoying at Faith’s place.”
Buffy stopped and thought about it, then asked, “What did he even say about ‘girls’ night’?” She emphasized ‘girls’ night’ by making cartoonish quotation marks with her fingers. Then she wilted under Giles’s pointed gaze. “Sorry, so not the point.”
“And what, precisely, was the point?” he grumbled, aggravation clear in both his tone and his sulky body language. Buffy very much did not care for it, and she reevaluated her former Watcher with narrowed eyes.
“Are you drunk?!”
“Yes,” he answered, then cracked a grin, “Quite a bit, actually.”
“Well, stop it!” she demanded petulantly. “There’s a chance that Spike might not be lying about the situation with Walsh, and I need all hands on deck if that’s the case. I don’t have time for everyone to be mad at me for no reason! What is happening?”
Buffy was so tired of the dramatics. So, of course, that was the moment the door practically slammed open, and a bedraggled Faith staggered into the apartment. Giles let out a squeak of surprise and settled roughly onto the sofa after losing his footing. “Bloody hell!” he moaned, but made no effort to stand up again.
“Hey B! G-Man,” Faith slurred, trying to act nonchalant despite the obvious sway in her stance as stopped and looked from Buffy to Giles. Buffy groaned and let herself sink down onto a bar stool, muttering, “Oh great, now there are two of them.”
Faith frowned. “What do ya mean ‘two of us’?”
“Excellent, a lovers’ quarrel is just what my evening needed,” Giles scoffed from where he had fallen onto the sofa. Oh hey, G-Man sounds almost as drunk as I feel, Faith reflected. Shit, guess that’s what B was talking about. Faith got annoyed at having her cover blown the instant she walked in the door. She had hoped to hide how drunk she was. Along with all those insecurities she had decided to push deep down rather than let them come up in conversation with Buffy.
Buffy, however, ignored Giles and walked up to Faith, reaching out and taking her hands. “Babes, what is going on? Why were you day drinking?” Faith couldn’t help the way her lips turned into a soft smile. Despite all her inner turmoil, the term of endearment always made her feel all warm and gooey inside. She always pretended to be grossed out by the sappy stuff, but Buffy knew better.
There were fingers snapping in her face. Faith didn’t know where they had come from, but as her eyes focused she realized they were attached to Buffy. “Oh shit, you asked me a question, huh?”
“What’s going on with you?” Buffy asked, impossibly gentle as she pushed a strand of hair behind Faith’s ear. Even so, Faith bristled at the question. All her usual defense mechanisms kicked back into place, and as she threw her walls up, the angry words came streaming out.
“I’m five by five here, B. Just felt like cuttin’ loose a little, that’s what the weekend’s for, last I checked.” Even as she spat the words out, Faithed hated how defensive they sounded. “Anyways, though we were here to talk about Walsh, not about poor, broken Faith.”
Buffy stiffened and stepped away. Her gaze flipped back and forth between Giles and Faith, brow furrowed. Then her eyes practically bulged out of her head.
“Spike!” she growled, her face twisting into an annoyingly adorable scowl.
“We should really just stake that asshole,” Faith grumbled, more to herself than Buffy. “Guess I was wrong about that chip. Fucker.”
“What?!” Buffy threw up her hands in frustration. “Alright, I’m tired of this.” She grabbed Faith by the arm and dragged her over to sit on the sofa by Giles, forcing him to sit up and make room.
“Oi, this is my flat. I don’t have to put up with this.”
“Enough,” Buffy ordered. “New rule: no one is allowed to talk unless they are sober!”
Giles made as if to argue, and Buffy immediately shushed him. Faith crossed her legs, anger forgotten. Pulling her bottom lip between her teeth, Faith leaned in towards Giles, her eyes never leaving Buffy, and whispered, “My girl’s hot when she’s pissed off, huh?”
“Faith!” Buffy scolded, but Faith relished the blush on her cheeks anyway. “Apparently, Spike has launched some sort of nefarious plan to turn all my friends against me, so what did he say to you?”
“Nothing,” Faith insisted. “Like I’d let that creep get to me anyway. Hey G, whatcha been drinkin’? Mind if I have a glass?” She started to get up only to drop right back down under the intensity of Buffy’s gaze. “Fine, whatever, he may have pointed out how you only fall for broken people, and I mean,” she shrugged, avoiding looking back at Buffy again, “It’s not like he’s totally off base, right?”
Buffy rolled her eyes. “Giles, what did Spike tell you?”
He stiffened beside Faith. “Well, uh, --S--Spike can be very convincing when--when--when, uh...” He sighed loudly. “I'm very stupid.”
“Yes,” Buffy chirped, “but still, tell me what he said. Just the gist of it. I really don’t want the details of whatever nonsense Spike made up about girls’ night.”
The embarrassment was rolling off Giles at this point, and Faith did her best not to laugh. Drunk, embarrassed Giles was hilarious. “He said, well he may have, uh, implied … that you’ve been using him as a spy for weeks and only need a retired librarian around to keep him stocked in cash and blood.”
“Which is just, like, super obviously a lie,” Buffy pointed out. “Just like how he told Xander that something was going on between him and Anya. … I mean, that’s probably a lie, right?” Faith snorted, not because it felt completely out of the realm of possibility but because she could vividly picture Xander completely melting down over it.
Unfortunately, Buffy didn’t seem to care for Faith’s amusement. “I’m not sure what’s so funny, babes. You’ve been sulking and drinking all day, when you could have just trusted me with your feelings! You’re not broken, and I’m not attracted to broken people. That’s ridiculous.”
A flip switched in Faith’s brain and suddenly she was on her feet and in Buffy’s face. “Oh, so now I’m ridiculous, B? If I’m so ridiculous, then why do you even wanna be with me? Huh? I’m a fuckin’ mess and—” Her tirade ended with Buffy’s lips pressed into her own. Caught off guard, she froze, and Buffy pulled away with the most delightful little smile of exasperation.
“Because I love you, dummy.”
Faith couldn’t breathe. She couldn’t move. All she could do was stand there, looking like an idiot, feeling her heart beating wildly throughout her entire body.
“I…” Faith just gaped at Buffy. She knew she should say something, but her brain was completely empty.
“It’s okay. You don’t have to say it back,” Buffy whispered, slipping her arms around Faith’s neck and pulling her closer. “Honestly, I didn’t mean to. It slipped out. But … I just need you to know how much I care about you. Not because you’re broken or whatever other worries you’ve got bouncing around in that confused noggin of yours. Because you’re Faith. You’re my Faith.”
Faith felt like she might spontaneously combust. She was too damaged and way too drunk to be having this conversation. And the thought of accepting that Buffy … felt that way about her was terrifying. Everyone Faith had ever let herself love was gone.
Suddenly, there was a loud pounding at the door. Buffy pulled away and marched forward. “This better not be Xander coming to yell about Spike. I swear to god I might actually stake him this time.” She opened the door. “Oh my god!”
Faith heard the shock and distress in Buffy’s voice and was by her side in less than a second. Leaning against the door frame was Riley, out of breath and covered in wounds, many of which were seeping blood onto his feet and the concrete of Giles’s front porch. “Holy shit,” she gasped.
“It’s Walsh,” he exhaled, the pain visible on his face as spoke. “It’s bad, Buffy. So bad. I think we’re all in a lot of trouble.”