Dance the Warrior

by blincolin

Rating: R
AN: For whedonland. I don't think I was meant to write anything above pg13, but you know me. Fic without porn is just a waste.
Oral's Notes: No email address available for author. Please leave a story review at Live Journal.

"How do you want to do this?"

Faith grins in the dark, hefting her sword over her shoulder. Blue blood drips off the end, mucus thick.

Buffy rolls her eyes. "I don't know why I even ask," she says, but Faith's already launched herself from behind their cover, trying her best Xena yell. The first demon is dismembered before Buffy throws her first punch, the head rolling to rest at Buffy's feet.

"One!" Faith yells.

Buffy ducks, swings, and two more heads fall around her. The blood stings where it touches her skin; beheading is so messy.

"Four!" she yells.

"Still wasn't a date," Buffy says. "Dates don't usually involve unknown body fluids."

"The best do," Faith says, leering.

"Urgh," Buffy says, and tries to shrug out of Faith's grasp, but Faith laughs, sharp and clear, and twists around so she's still holding on. They grapple right there on the street, Buffy shoving at Faith while Faith's arms wind tight around her waist. She doesn't let go until Buffy starts fighting dirty, kicking Faith in the shin. Faith hops away, feigning hurt.

"You should go wash off," Buffy says, gruff. "You don't know what those demon juices'll do to you."

"Seriously?" Faith says as she walks in the door.

Buffy shrugs behind her, stepping over the threshold. "Small, simple, gets the job done."

"But there's no pizzazz. Give me a knife, something that needs some mad skill, you know? But a stake?" Faith makes a face. "Boring."

Buffy rolls her eyes. "Or the scythe."

Faith sighs. "Now there's a weapon." They both turn to look at it, propped in the corner.

"I think it's angry with us for leaving it," Buffy says. There's a moment of respectful silence.

"Even looking at it is getting me hot," Faith says, ruining it.

Faith strips in the middle of the living area, the windows still wide open so any passerby could see.

"Faith!" Buffy gasps, voice strangled, but Faith grins. She's got an already-fading bruise beneath her ribs, and her skin is red and irritated where it's touched the demon blood.

"Thought you might wanna help me wash this stuff off," she says, eyes wide and voice dripping with mock innocence. She grabs Buffy's wrist, pulling her in so they're chest to chest. She's a little taller than Buffy, and she has to lean down a fraction to kiss her on the lips.

Faith sleeps coiled, knees drawn up in a child's pose. When Buffy moves closer in the night – so what if she's a snuggler? – she often gets an elbow in the chest as Faith shifts restlessly. Buffy's tried wearing her out; tried both fighting and sex, hurtling them both headfirst into a hydra's lair or making Faith come so often one orgasm crashes into another. But she still flinches when she sneaks one arm under Faith's, curling around her stomach.

"Don't suffocate me," Faith says, voice thick with sleep.

"Take it, bitch," Buffy says, twining their legs together.

When Buffy wakes in the morning, Faith is already drawing a finger down the center of her, kissing the inside of her thighs. Faith must know when she wakes, because she murmurs, "Just relax," and fixes her mouth over Buffy, sucking lightly. Buffy moans, making a high, surprised sound, and sinks her hands into Faith's hair. She rocks into Faith's mouth, desperate, but Faith seems content to draw it out until Buffy pants, "Faith, oh – please, please I –" and Faith thrusts two fingers inside her, twisting them into the heat of Buffy's cunt until Buffy comes, arching off the bed.

The sun hangs at the highest point in the sky, and Faith makes Buffy go through the apartment, closing the blinds and blocking all possible cracks of light.

"Maybe we should leave the room?" Buffy says. "We're running out of coffee. And toothpaste. But coffee."

"We'll get some tomorrow." Faith hasn't bothered to dress – she's only wearing panties and a stained singlet that has stretched and become saggy around her breasts. "Don't you know how to take a day off?" she says, lifting the sheet.

"Day off? What strange animal do you speak of?" Buffy says, curling against Faith's side.

When the phone rings, Faith doesn't move. Buffy huffs.

"Hello?" she says.

"Buffy. I just wondered how things are faring over there."

"Fine, Giles."

"The Kilswurf demon infestation?"

"They're itty bitty gooey pieces. Except not the yummy melted-chocolate-chip gooey. The gross off-Jell-O-that's-been-shoved-to-the-back-of-the-fridge gooey."

"Excellent. You're coming back soon, I trust?"

"I'm afraid not. There's a, uh. Vampire colony. Underground," Buffy spins. Faith nods emphatically, and gestures for Buffy to continue. "Me and Faith, we're going to, you know. Nip this thing in the bud. Stop it before it takes root in the community. Save small children."

Faith smirks. Buffy shrugs.

"Put on your dancing shoes," Faith says, tucking a stake into her boot. "We're going on a date."

When they get to the cemetery, Buffy's sneakers sink deep into the mud, making squelching noises as she walks.

"Stealth," Faith snorts, earning herself an elbow in the side.

"You never take me anywhere nice," Buffy says.

"Oh baby," Faith says, mocking. "Next week, I promise I'll take you to a good old-fashioned Satanic massacre."

"Promises, promises," Buffy says, sliding into a crouch as the first vampire approaches. She kicks high and it stumbles backward, right onto Faith's stake.

"One," Faith crows.