This Is How It Goes

There hadn't been any more uncomfortable incidents of near-kissage, but Buffy sometimes found herself watching Faith, looking at her fluid recklessness with an eagerness that terrified her. She tried desperately to pretend the ... time with the thing and the gravestone had never happened, but Faith wasn't really the type to respect social boundaries. Hence, subtle sexual allusions that rapidly became less subtle.

"So, what's up with Scottie anyway? You flirting shamelessly with him? Quickies in the bathroom?"

"Who knows?" Buffy sighed. "Well, except for that last part, which is definitely not happening. I don't know if I'm ready for some kind of relationship with him." She raised an eyebrow at Faith. "Don't suppose you have any constructive advice."

"Just one. Duck," Faith said, looking vaguely over Buffy's shoulder.

Buffy had just enough time to wonder why Faith was talking about pond animals before something large and heavy collided with her head. She fell to the ground in an ungraceful heap.

"God, that was hilarious, Faith," she growled irritably, jumping to her feet and delivering a right hook to the vampire that had snuck up on her.

"I got my own stand-up routine, B," Faith called to her from within a whirling mass of fists and legs.

She ignored Faith's ringing laughter and focused on her vampire, who had at first looked triumphant and was now merely bruised and confused.

"I know. Slayers really should have some sort of sign. Maybe a large white hat," Buffy said innocently, shrugging. "But, really, how many normal girls are gonna go walking through the cemetery at night? Hunt downtown, buddy, like a smart undead creature."

He stared at her, nonplussed. He was young, college student-age, with neatly coiffed hair and an immaculately starched polo shirt.

"Newbie?"

He nodded, dazed. "Who the hell are you?"

"Slayer. Sorry, but you won't really have a chance to look it up," Buffy said, staking him.

Faith gave a triumphant yell as she finished with her vamp. She walked over to Buffy and put her arm out, palm up, which Buffy slapped hesitantly.

"Hell, yeah. So, continuing our convo before. What's wrong with the boy?" Faith asked, falling into step with her.

"I don't know. He's just ... normal. He's ridiculously normal. He goes to school and he does his homework and he doesn't have a secret double life where he has to use special shampoo to get demon puss out of his hair," Buffy rambled.

Faith wrinkled her nose at the last statement. "That's fucked up, yo."

Buffy motioned with her hand impatiently. "And? Anything else incredibly insightful you can contribute?"

"I get it, I do. You got a life that would make most people shit their pants. How can a guy who doesn't even know about it really fit in?" Faith said, rather sympathetically.

"That ... makes an unreasonable amount of sense. Have you been taking classes?" Buffy asked, frowning.

"I know slaying. And I know guys. And most of the time, blondie, they don't go together. `Less you're willing to use my fool-proof system."

"The `use `em and lose `em' approach?" Buffy asked skeptically, and Faith nodded. "That's not a system, Faith. A system is complicated. It has squiggles and complex little swirls. Yours is a straight line."

"Maybe not that straight," Faith said, smirking.

Buffy sighed. "I don't even know why I talk to you. You're a walking sexual innuendo."

"C'mon, B," Faith said, laughing. "You know I'm right, anyway. Scottie just isn't your slice of pie. I mean, have a quickie in the bathroom with him. Hell, have 14. Just don't plan on fat grandchildren."

"The world seems so weird when you say logical things. Or, semi-logical things, at least."

Faith shoved her playfully. "We're done here, anyway. Vamps in this town don't have the balls to take us on. It's Bronze time."

~ — ~ — ~

The two Slayers found their way into the writhing mass of bodies at the Bronze. Faith made a beeline for the bar, while Buffy spotted Xander and Willow being compacted into an unrecognizable shape by the teeming crowd.

"Hey, guys. New weight-loss program? Called, `fat trembles in the face of brute squashing force'?" Buffy asked, grinning.

"Ha. Ha. Oh, and come sit over here by me," Xander said weakly.

"Hey, Red," Faith said, bringing an excessive amount of alcohol over to their tiny table.

Willow's eyes scanned the club anxiously. "Uh, did they change the laws? Is alcohol not illegal for us anymore? Did my voice just get oddly high-pitched?"

"Flirting'll get you anything, Wil. Remember that." Faith smirked and handed Buffy a shot glass.

"Faith. I'm not drinking that," Buffy said, trying to sound stern.

"Fuck yeah, you are," Faith snorted. "If you don't, I'll find a way to slip a roofie into your drink at school. You'll wake up in the janitor's closet panty-less."

Buffy stared at her. "The fact that I don't even know if you're joking or not says a lot about our friendship."

"Drink up, princess," Faith said, and threw back her shot like a professional alcoholic.

Buffy tentatively took the offered glass and looked into it. "Don't smell it," Faith warned. Willow was looking at her with an anxious expression.

"What the hell," Buffy mumbled, tilted her head back, and downed it. "Ugh! God, what was that?" she cried, gagging a little.

"Good shit, huh?" Faith grinned.

"I think my esophagus just dissolved," Buffy gasped, but stopped as she felt a warmth seeping through her. The actual drinking was horrendous, but it made her stomach feel all warm and fuzzy.

"Gimme another one," she said firmly.

Faith handed her another one, looking inappropriately happy. Buffy threw it back, making the same "Ugh!" noise.

Willow was watching the events unfolding before her with an appalled expression.

"But — you shouldn't — Giles! What would Giles say?" she sputtered.

"Chill, Red. We're young and stupid. We're supposed to do things like this. Giles would understand that even tight-asses like B need a break." Faith grinned as Buffy took the last shot she had just been handed, looked at it warily for about two seconds, and then downed it.

"Okay, that's it. As resident tight-ass, I'm drawing a very mature and rational line," Buffy said.

She grabbed Faith's hand and dragged her out to the dance floor. Her head was swimming pleasantly. Her legs felt warm and tingly, and she was very aware of Faith's hand in hers.

They found a relatively large space and began moving. Faith was a frenetic piece of machinery, throwing her hips around, tangling her hands in her hair, body twisting in ways that Buffy didn't think was physically possible. Faith's eyes were closed, her mouth slightly open, tongue barely touching her glistening bottom lip. Her shirt kept riding up over a taut stomach, her pants hugging her hips. She looked so vivid, so vibrantly lost within herself, throwing herself into dancing with the same abandon as she did slaying.

Buffy realized that she had been staring at her for the past minute. She jumped a little, looked around guiltily, and began moving herself. Letting the alcohol guide her body in ways she probably wouldn't have even considered before. Buffy closed her eyes, put her hands on her own body, mimicking Faith, and did what felt right.

She stiffened slightly as she felt someone behind her. She glanced over her shoulder, saw Faith grinning at her predatorily, and her heart started pounding wildly. She felt hands on her hips and the feel of Faith's body flush against her back. Buffy bit her bottom lip as Faith's breasts pressed into her back, as Faith's hips firmly attached themselves to her ass.

This is bad, Buffy thought anxiously. This is very, very bad. This is exactly the kind of sexually ambiguous situation I shouldn't be getting into.

"Relax, B. Go with it. Don't wanna disappoint our audience," Faith murmured into her ear, and Buffy shivered and noticed the furtive glances they were receiving from the crowd.

Faith started the rhythm, swaying and moving Buffy's hips back and forth. There was a moment of hesitation, of vaguely considering sitting back down, before the alcohol and the feel of Faith's warm, solid body won the debate. Buffy followed her, feeling her body undulate and surge with the Slayer behind her. She felt powerful, sexy, reckless. She felt something loosen in her chest and limbs, a release that made her move languorously and seductively. Buffy could feel Faith's reassuring and alluring heat behind her, hot breath ghosting across her shoulder blades. Buffy's own breath hitched as Faith's hands began moving slowly upwards, sliding underneath her shirt and finding clenched stomach muscles.

Buffy moaned softly as Faith's hips pressed more determinedly into her ass, as her hands moved to places that weren't really appropriate for the dance floor, and Buffy realized that there was absolutely no way she was going to stop her. The thought was more than a little terrifying, but exhilarating too. She tilted her head back, brought her hand up and tangled it in the other Slayer's hair, and Faith gently lowered her mouth to the warm skin of Buffy's neck. She felt a tongue, teeth, lips on her collarbone and inhaled sharply. This isn't supposed to feel this good, she thought, and then promptly and deliberately buried it under the alcohol-induced whirling in her head.

"You taste good, B," Faith murmured in a dark, rough voice into her neck. Buffy almost had an orgasm.

"I — don't really know how to respond to that," she said weakly.

"Well, lemme help with that," Faith said softly, slightly mischievously, and slowly moved her hands from beneath Buffy's breasts to a more southern location. They reached the top of Buffy's pants and slid lower, nearly touching her through her jeans. Buffy moaned, rolled her hips forward.

"Yeah, that's really the kind of response I was hoping for," Faith said, gently scratching her teeth on Buffy's neck and causing her to shudder.

Faith suddenly removed her hands and mouth and stepped back. Buffy whimpered pathetically, turning around to see Faith smiling and breathing heavily. Buffy's eyes flicked involuntarily to Faith's mouth and then back up to the deep brown of her eyes, dark and wide with an emotion that made something twist in the pit of Buffy's stomach.

"Your friends are about to have aneurysms," Faith explained, amused, glancing at something on the edge of the floor.

Buffy looked around at the table where Willow and Xander were sitting. Willow was sitting with her hands clenched her lap, a ludicrously shocked expression on her face. Xander was slumped forward, his jaw open and his face slack. There might have been some drool. Buffy started laughing, ignoring the pang of disappointment she suddenly felt.

"Come on, Faith. Let's go do some damage control." Buffy grasped the other Slayer's hand and led her back to the table.

Chapter 4: Grade A Hedonism

Author's Notes: Okay, so if any of you are getting a little impatient with the conventional (one could say trite, and they wouldn't be too far off) Fuffy plot points, then I ask you to keep reading for a couple more chapters. This is my first time posting something longer than a chapter, and I kind of failed to realize the importance of early creativity. But, never fear, things will get more interesting. Season 3 shit will go down. This story isn't just a Buffy-and-Faith-have-lots-and-lots-of-sex story (although they do get down with their bad selves quite a few times ... hmm), and things do happen. So, thanks for the patience. And hope you enjoy this chapter. Another first for me — writing this kind of scene.

"You really wouldn't?" Faith asked incredulously.

"No, Faith, I wouldn't have sex with Brad Pitt if he was a vampire," Buffy said, slightly exasperated but smiling.

They were patrolling again. Since last week, Buffy had been avoiding the Bronze whenever Faith was there. She didn't want to consider the "why" of that too thoroughly, because that would mean she would have to actively think about it. She only distantly acknowledged that dancing, alcohol, and Faith was a dangerous, dangerous combination.

"Girl, you have serious issues." Faith gave her a look. "It's not the vampire thing, cause you've been there, fucked that."

Buffy looked at her sharply. "Faith, we're not talking about that." Angel had, of course, come up in previous conversations. Faith seemed fascinated whenever Buffy talked about him.

Faith cocked her head and considered her, suddenly serious. "It still hurts that much, huh?" she asked. There was an undertone of skepticism in her voice.

Buffy looked ahead of her, her expression still intense. "Yeah, Faith, it still hurts that much." She inhaled deeply. "I honestly don't know if it's ever going to stop hurting. I loved him so much." She looked at Faith, smiling faintly. "Maybe it shouldn't stop hurting."

Buffy vaguely registered the rapid change in atmosphere. All of a sudden they were having a real conversation. Faith was like that, she thought. Changing so suddenly and dramatically, switching between playful taunting and genuine emotion. Buffy could never read her completely.

"That seems like a waste of energy, B," Faith said sincerely. Buffy frowned at her. "I mean, people just aren't like that. They shouldn't be grieved over forever. You have whatever you have with them, and then you move on to the next warm body. Or," she smirked, "cold body, you know, whichever."

Buffy stared at her. "How did you get so cynical? You're like 17," she said, mildly shocked.

Faith shrugged, said sarcastically, "What can I say? I guess growing up in the projects in south Boston didn't really sell me on the softer side of humanity."

"Then maybe you should start investing in it here," Buffy said, glancing at her. "I just can't see anyone living happily with that kind of view."

Faith looked at her, annoyed. "Hey, I'm five by five, B. Maybe you're the one who needs to wake up and smell the bullshit." She gestured around her distractedly. "The world ain't a nice place. It's just everybody screwing each other over for their own little piece of the sky."

Buffy shook her head, a little stunned at Faith's outburst. "I don't believe that."

"`Course you don't, B. You fight `cause you believe the opposite. That human beings are all nice, you know, real deep down. That we wouldn't all kill each other without a second glance," Faith said sardonically. "You ever think that those convictions of yours, those reasons you fight, are spoon-fed to you `cause those old Council bastards need you happy and obedient?"

Buffy realized the person next to her was a complete stranger. "Why do you fight, then?"

"Why not?" Faith gave her a twisted grin. "We're made for this shit. We're built to enjoy smackin' down vamps. The way I figure, most humans aren't worth fighting for. They're a bunch of drunken assholes. But, we can still get off on this." She was smirking, but her mouth was a tight, hard line.