Next Year's Girl
Faith had given up kidding herself that it would ever happen. Prison had provided plenty of time for thinking things through, and one conclusion had been inescapable: B was never, ever going to embrace her inner dyke. Just not going to happen. Time to get the hell over it and move on.
She hadn't expected to see Buffy so soon, if ever, but that was okay. Girl looked ten years older, but that was still pretty good for a dead person of the non-fanged variety. It was still there, of course, all the old tension - but Faith understood, now, that it wasn't about sex or love and it never had been. It was just slayer stuff, and it was all the things Faith had done. The choices that Buffy couldn't understand or condone, even though they'd been the only damn choices Faith had felt she could make at the time. The boys Faith had done, or tried to do. Riley. Angel. Angelus. It wasn't about any Romeo and Juliet shit connecting the two slayers themselves. Buffy Anne Summers was as straight and vanilla as Mary fucking Poppins, and that was that. End of story.
It wasn't the first time Faith had been wrong, and it probably wouldn't be the last.
Friends was good - hell, friends was great, and more than she'd expected. Not that it was exactly friendship, still, but it was closer to friendship than most any relationship Faith had had since kindergarten. Except Angel - but that was a whole nother thing. It was kind of weird to be back in Sunnydale, but it felt good to be fighting on the side of truth, justice and all that shit; felt good to have all the little potentials looking at her wide-eyed, like she was worth something. It felt good to help to save the world for once, and kick the First Evil's intangible ass. But, yeah, having B trust her and respect her as an equal - that, Faith had decided, was as good as it got.
But it turned out that as good as it got was B trusting her and respecting her as an equal and fucking her breathless in the rain. Which was one hell of a surprise. And Faith liked Robin, liked him a whole lot, but she didn't spare him a second thought when B touched her. B. Buffy. Little Miss Perfect. Miss Goody Two Shoes shoving her up against the wall and kissing her like it was a competitive sport, vampire dust on her lips and the memory of cherry coke on her tongue. Buffy's fingers wet and clever, Buffy's mouth framing words Faith never expected to hear outside her imagination, Buffy's eyes meeting hers and not looking away.
"Holy shit," Faith had said, when she could speak again. She was fresh out of wisecracks and weirdly off balance. She felt oddly vulnerable in a way she didn't associate with sex, 'cause sex was all 'get some, get gone', and this wasn't all she wanted from B. There was nothing casual about her feelings for B. "Holy shit." Buffy had grinned at her, and the smugness had made Faith's fingers itch to form a fist. This wasn't how it was supposed to go.
She'd had Buffy.
"Holy shit," Faith had said once more, grinning like an idiot, and then Buffy had kissed her back into silence.
She wasn't being all stalkery or nothing. It was just that she'd woken up first, and she'd just wondered if B was awake yet. And when she found B wasn't awake yet - well, she'd stayed anyway. Not like she was watching over Buffy, trying to keep her safe, some sentimental bullshit like that. Not at all. Just one friend waiting for another friend to wake up. Friend. Fuck buddy. Whatever.
The rest of the gang (Andrew kept suggesting catchy names for them, like they were in some dumb cartoon or comic book, and old Giles kept making withering responses) had gone out. They were going to have to figure out some kind of long term plan they could all live with (looked like setting up a school of some kind was the most likely bet, but where the hell they were going to get the money from beat Faith) but just now they were taking a well-earned breather for a day or two. Just that a well-earned breather still included evenings of kicking demon butt if you were a slayer.
Kicking demon butt and, it seemed, finally getting some hot slayer action. Who'd'a'thunk it?
A single bar of sunlight sliced through the gap in the curtains and fell across Buffy's exposed belly. She was sprawling on her back, sleeping far messier than Faith would've expected with the sheets kicked off and one arm over her head. Her skin bore a light sheen of sweat and the blonde hair was straggly and damp - the air conditioning was bust and it was too damn hot in the dingy little room. Faith pulled her knees up under her chin and stared, trying to memorise every inch of Buffy's skin and remembering very vividly how it felt to wear that body. Mayor Wilkins had understood her very well, although he'd never embarrassed her by talking about the Buffy thing; still his parting gift had been perfect, in its fucked up way. Faith had explored Buffy's body pretty damn thoroughly while she had it - had touched and pinched and probed and found every single sweet spot, every tender nerve ending. She knew with absolute certainty how Buffy would react if she stroked the back of her thigh just so; if she sucked on a finger or bit down on one peaked nipple. They weren't in an alleyway now, and there were far fewer clothes in the way; Faith wanted the chance to explore B at her leisure and make her writhe. She just wasn't entirely sure whether Buffy would feel the same way, or if last night had been a one time only deal.
The little pink vest top rode up above her flat belly, exposing a navel that Faith really wanted to lick. And it was stupid, really stupid to be so hung up over B; it wasn't like she was the cutest little piece of ass Faith had ever seen or had, not by a long way, but that didn't matter a damn. She was who she was, and Buffy Summers had been the centre of Faith's world ever since Faith had hit Sunnydale running, and she was drenched just thinking about it. It was all about Buffy all the time. No wonder she and Angel understood each other so damn well.
Faith's eyes snapped back up to Buffy's face.
"I - uh. Hey you," said Faith, brash as ever, her cheeks feeling a little too hot. "So, you ready to hit IHoP?"
There was a little pause, while Faith watched Buffy take stock of where they were, watched her eyes widen briefly. Remembering last night, Faith thought, and tried not to hold her breath. They could just pretend it never happened - that would be better than some stupid 'I'm not gay' thing, better than Buffy's pity. She could not fucking stand the idea of Buffy's pity. "Pancakes would be good," Buffy said at last, pushing her hair out of her eyes. Her expression was impossible to read.
"Cool." And this was fine, this was okay, Faith could do this. B wasn't freaking out on her yet, and friends was fine. Friends was plenty. She swung her legs off the edge of her own narrow bed and started to reach for her jeans when Buffy's hand closed around her wrist and Faith froze quite still.
"No hurry." And god, god, she'd never really thought she'd hear that note in Buffy Summers' voice, never thought it would be directed at her. Faith kept her expression quizzical, but her mouth was suddenly dry, although other places were not.
"You got something better in mind, B?" she asked, casual as possible.
Buffy pulled her forward, just a little tug, but plenty, and it only took a moment for Faith to be straddling her where she lay. They looked at each other, and Faith could feel her mouth curving into a dopey grin, her eyes sparkling.
"I think we'll work something out," Buffy said, her tongue darting out to moisten her lips as she returned Faith's smile with interest. "Improvise, you know. See what comes naturally."
Faith cupped the narrow curve of Buffy's cheek and leaned down into a kiss, her thighs flexing with the movement and her heavy breasts brushing against Buffy's chest through the cotton. It was like Christmas and Thanksgiving and a Birthday all at once, like nothing else Faith could think of. She couldn't remember ever wanting anything, or anyone, as much as she wanted B. "I can do that."