This Is How It Goes

Her brain, previously resolutely against doing anything in school, had ceased to function. She unthinkingly wrapped herself around Faith, hands tangling into the wild mess of Faith's hair, hips, chests, shoulders pressed together. Her breath, which just seconds ago had been wrenched forcefully from her, was back with a shallow, panting vengeance.

Faith's hands found Buffy's ass and pulled her firmly forward, and Buffy moaned into Faith's mouth, tongues sliding together, over, under. Faith began shuffling both of them backwards, and Buffy felt her breath hitch as her back hit the lockers, the other Slayer's body melded to hers, grinding into her. Faith moved her mouth down to Buffy's neck, kissing, sucking, biting gently, and Buffy tilted her head back, wrapped her leg around Faith's, and made small, breathless moans.

Faith's hand moved slowly, teasingly down to Buffy's thigh, and then up, playing with the hem of Buffy's skirt.

"See, this is why I can appreciate skirts," she said next to Buffy's ear in dark, husky voice. "Easier access."

Buffy groaned in response, as Faith's hand inched tortuously upwards beneath her skirt. Fingernails scraped gently on the insides of her thighs and Buffy bit her lip and moaned.

Which is how Wesley found them. Buffy had no idea how long he had been staring in incredulous shock, but there was a suspicious squeaking noise and her eyes snapped open. To see the shoes that made the noise and the person to whom they were attached. His mouth was slightly open, his eyes wide and blank.

Buffy yelped, pushed a surprised and vaguely annoyed Faith from her, and attempted to rearrange her hair and clothing into a semi-presentable ensemble while her stomach clenched with embarrassment. Faith turned around, saw who had interrupted them and smirked, and Buffy found herself fuming and utterly jealous of Faith's unflustered confidence.

"Uh — um, we — Faith was just ... there was a spider?" Buffy finished weakly.

Wesley closed his mouth, blinked, and seemed to regain some semblance of conscious thought. Or possibly just movement, as he turned on his heel and walked back to the library without saying anything.

Buffy buried her violently red face in her hands. "Oh, God," she said, half-laughing and half-seriously-mortified.

Faith looked perfectly relaxed and amused, leaning nonchalantly against the lockers with her arms crossed. "Maybe that'll knock his superior ass down a few pegs. Dickless action always upsets the balance with guys like that."

Buffy took a deep breath and raised her head. "Okay. Nothing to be embarrassed about. Just that our new, painfully stuffy Watcher saw us making out against school lockers and will now probably have a minor aneurysm every time he sees us."

"Or a boner," Faith added helpfully.

Buffy gave her a dirty look, which Faith smirked at. "We should probably go back," Buffy said unhappily. "See what he wanted."

Faith snorted, looked at Buffy, and then rolled her eyes. "Yeah, okay. Better be quick. I'm a busy girl, you know, got things I'd rather be doing," she said, smirking, and rolled her eyes up and down Buffy's body in a way that made something curl in the pit of her stomach.

~ — ~ — ~

They swung open the library doors, and it seemed to Buffy like she opened those doors more than she opened the door to her own room, and stopped suddenly.

"Angel," she said, surprised.

He was standing near the table, shifting awkwardly. Wesley was carefully avoiding looking directly at either of the Slayers and Giles was still sitting on the table wearing an expression of repressed glee and smugness. Buffy flushed, realizing that Giles had figured out why Wesley was staring intently into a corner and turning a strange, unnatural puce color. She wanted to disappear into the floor, but she turned to Angel instead, hoping that her face wasn't as blazingly red as it felt.

"What's up?"

Angel glanced around uncertainly, picking up on the strange atmospheric ripples. "Got some information you might want to hear."

Everyone in the room raised their eyes and perked up, eager for a potential distraction.

"Heard through the demon grapevine that something big's getting shipped in. Something the Mayor needs for a ritual." He smiled slightly. "One of his vamp employees had a few too many yak blood shots at Willy's, and I happened to be in the right spot to keep paying for them."

"When?" Buffy asked excitedly.

"Tomorrow night. At the docks."

"Do we know exactly what this ingredient is?" Giles asked, brow furrowed.

Angel shook his head. "All I know is that it's important and the Mayor might be a little ticked off if it was damaged."

Faith grinned predatorily. "Wouldn't want that, huh, B?"

Buffy sighed. "Just a damn shame," she said gravely.

Wesley suddenly stepped forward, his hand out and finger pointed upwards. "I would like to have some say in this matter," he said in a high-pitched, distraught voice.

"Would you?" Faith asked rudely. "Seems like you were having trouble sayin' anything just a few minutes ago, Wes."

Wesley turned an unattractive purplish-red color. "Uh — well, yes — that may — I am the Watcher here," he finished, suddenly stronger. "I am the voice of the Council and you and Buffy must follow my instructions."

Faith sneered at him and Buffy glared. "So, instruct away," she said tightly.

He straightened up a little, looking more self-assured. "You and Faith will go to the docks tonight. We need to make sure Angelus' information is correct, and scout the area. You will watch for any suspicious activity and report back to me."

"What?" Faith said, her face scrunched up in contemptuous scorn.

Angel craned his neck, said loudly, "Uh, it's just Angel, actually."

"That's a shit plan," Faith continued angrily. "Nothin's going down 'till tomorrow night and one of the Mayor's flunkies might see us anyway, blow our chance of surprising them."

"Are you questioning my orders?" Wesley asked, puffing out his chest, his eyes narrowing.

"No," Buffy said suddenly, grabbing Faith's forearm as she opened her mouth in a retort. "We'll go check it out." Faith shot her an angry, hurt look.

Wesley smiled smugly. "Very well. You two should return here by," he checked his watch, "11. That will give you enough time to properly explore the area and see what kind of unsavory characters are hanging about."

Buffy nodded while Faith crossed her arms and glared. Buffy turned to Angel. "Thanks, Angel. Knew we were keeping you around for some reason," she said, smiling.

Angel gave her a small smile in return. "Well, I have to keep up my terrifying, 'demon that hell itself spat out' image in Sunnydale."

Buffy grinned and dragged an unwilling Faith out the door. As soon as they were out in the hallway, Faith wrenched her arm roughly out of Buffy's grasp and turned to her irately.

"Thanks for the back-up, B," she said bitterly. "It's a shit plan and we both know it. I guess I'm just the only one's who got the balls to say it."

"It's a shit plan," Buffy said. Faith blinked. "We're not doing it, by the way. I just needed to get him off our backs. We're going to the Bronze, dancing until 11, and then coming back here and making something creative up."

Faith's wide, unabashed grin made the entire conversation worth it, Buffy reflected.

"Lead the way, girlfriend. How's it feel committing your first 'fuck the man' act?" Faith asked, draping her arm casually around Buffy's shoulders as they started to walk off.

"I feel liberated. Maybe we should commit further crime and liberate me some more," Buffy said happily, smirking.

"I got a plan of my own, B. Involves liberating you from those constricting clothes," Faith drawled in that dark, husky voice that made Buffy's skin prickle with heat.

"I admire your strategizing skills."

Chapter 19: Something New

Author's Notes: I need a little disclaimer: this chapter is sex. All sex. Pure, 172% sex. Fair warning for any recovering fan fiction sexaholics and those perusing fics for profound, philosophical dialogue. Sorry. For the remainder of you: enjoy. Oh, and it's also a little short. The next chapter'll be significantly longer.

The Bronze was a hot, writhing mass of people into which Buffy and Faith managed to insinuate themselves. They found a spot near the center, the music pounding rhythms in their ears and bodies, and wrapped around each other. Their hips swayed, collided fluidly, hands swarming and mouths and lips brushing over heated skin. They threw themselves into the music, into each other with unrestrained abandon.

A circle formed around them, giving them space, making them a display. Dark and light moving together in a sinuous, aching dance. Limbs so tangled that no one could really tell who wore the leather pants and who wore the skirt. They barely noticed the naked stares, enveloped in their own personal reality.

Buffy bit down on the side of Faith's neck, where her pulse throbbed like the beat between Buffy's legs, and she tilted her head back and moaned into the air, raw with energy and desire. Faith rode Buffy's thigh until they were both gasping and wet, until Buffy's stomach hurt with the clenching and coiling, exquisite heat. She buried her face in Faith's shoulder, felt the other Slayer's hips rock against her thigh slowly and deeply, and wanted to feel naked in her, around her, with her.

They drew back and Buffy saw Faith's eyes, dilated and vivid with lust, and shivered. She laced their fingers together and led her out the door. Eyes followed them and they were oblivious. They stepped outside, breathed in air clear of bodies and longing, and looked at each other. There was a moment where Buffy would have let Faith fuck her anywhere if it had gone on any longer, but she knew what she wanted and drew back.

"We're going to your motel," Buffy said, and Faith's eyes glittered as she nodded. They walked swiftly, blood still hot and coursing, fingers intertwined, and Faith opened her door with shaking hands.

They walked inside, and Faith had barely opened her mouth to say something, probably about how crappy the room was, before Buffy pushed her roughly against the door, slipped her tongue into her mouth, and slid her hands underneath Faith's shirt, cupping her breasts. Faith let out a guttural moan, muffled by Buffy's mouth, and Buffy felt it pour through her body like the molten liquid rushing between her legs. Faith surrendered completely, giving herself to Buffy's hands. She whimpered softly as Buffy leaned back, grasped the hem of Faith's shirt and lifted it over her raised arms.

Buffy leaned in, lips fluttering over Faith's jaw, hearing short bursts of breath against her ear. She moved her mouth to Faith's neck, tongue flicking out to taste the salt and need on her skin, feeling her pulse pounding under her lips. Her hands went to Faith's stomach, gliding over firm, heated flesh to press against the warm muscles of her back. Buffy vaguely thought that she could stay all day in this position, exploring the naked, curving expanse of Faith's back, savoring how the brunette's breath hitched when Buffy hit a particularly sensitive area. But she had more ambitious goals. She moved her hands up, finding the elastic strap of Faith's bra and, fumbling for a few moments, unhooking it. She drew back, sliding the offending material off as Faith stretched out her arms and unceremoniously flung it away.

Buffy backed up and just looked at her, examining her handiwork. Faith's naked chest was rising and falling with her shallow breaths, her nipples taut and straining, breasts round and full and heaving with her exhalations. Her eyes were impossibly dark and wide. There was a curious expression on her face — part blatant desire, part trepidation, part pleading anxiety. The brunette didn't move, though, didn't initiate anything. She was waiting for Buffy, relinquishing that control she loved. Faith watched her, hands hanging by her side, and waited for her. Buffy felt a tight wrench in her stomach at the sight.

Buffy stepped forward and put out her hands, uncertainly at first, just brushing against skin, but then felt Faith shiver and cupped her breasts completely. The other girl let her breath out in a tight hiss, hands slamming into the door behind her. Buffy held Faith's breasts in her hands for several minutes, feeling their warm weight, their suppleness, their bare softness. She gently rolled the nipples between her fingers and Faith inhaled sharply, arching into her palms. Buffy met Faith's urgent, wanting gaze and kept eye contact as she moved her mouth down to replace one of her hands. Sucked softly, pulled a nipple into her mouth and grazed it lightly with her teeth, and a deep, shaking groan was ripped from the brunette's throat.

"Buffy," Faith gasped, pressing into her more.

Her name — beseeching, expressing an indefinable question, full of tentative need and sounding almost foreign coming out of Faith's mouth — pushed foreplay entirely out of Buffy's mind. Buffy switched breasts, swirling her tongue around Faith's other nipple, while her hands moved swiftly down. Removed her mouth from Faith's breast and unbuckled the other Slayer's belt, pulling it off her in a violent, fluid movement. She felt Faith shudder as she unbuttoned her pants, kneeled and tugged them off of her. And then stayed on her knees as she ran her hands up Faith's calves, knees, thighs and heard her respond with sharp gasps.

Buffy moved slowly to the top of Faith's underwear, fingers playing with the elastic, and felt her muscles fluttering, trembling under her hands. Buffy slowly tugged Faith's panties down, let them fall in an ungraceful pile at her feet, and leaned in to kiss the inside of her thighs. She heard a slight thump as Faith's hips bucked against the door, as Faith's hands moved down to tangle themselves in her hair. She breathed in, inhaling Faith's scent, her arousal. It surrounded her, pervasive and enveloping, a deep, earthy smell that made her light-headed.

She had never wanted something as much as she wanted to taste, to explore at that moment. She wanted to have Faith writhing, crying out, hands buried deep in Buffy's scalp. She took one of Faith's thighs, draped it over her shoulders, and heard Faith breathing shallowly, whimpering with want and uncertainty.

Buffy leaned in further, and flicked out her tongue for a first taste. Faith moaned deeply, her hips surging forward as Buffy began moving her tongue experimentally, searchingly through wet folds. She was sweet, with a hint of salinity, and Buffy drank her in. She flicked her tongue gently, rhythmically against Faith's clit and the other Slayer cried out weakly, her fingers grasping Buffy's hair. Buffy moved her hand up, fingers moving through that heat and slid them in effortlessly.