Hextracurricular Activity

The ticking of a clock somewhere down the hall thuds inside Faith's head as she sits alone in the library, making her count in time until she wants to find the thing and rip it from the wall. Her hands itch and her jaw clenches, the world feels smaller somehow, or too close. She's been feeling this way for a little over two days now, her mind playing tricks on her, body unable to rest or relax. It's making her insane - or just more so if you were to ask her 'friends'.

She shakes her head. Some friends, she thinks to herself; she hasn't heard from a single one of them since the night she nearly got eaten by the nasty-assed demon that Buffy was having trouble with. That was Sunday night. It was now Wednesday morning. Faith had been keeping to herself, sure, but a phone call might have been nice, just to check how she was doing. That demon had taken some beating even with Angel's help, giving both Faith and Buffy the run around, almost taking a bite out of both of them. Both slayers had ended up battered and bruised, dazed too.

Faith recalls how it had grabbed them both at the same time at one point, bashing the slayers into each other as if they weighed nothing at all. He'd spoken some weird language that Giles had never heard, causing the slayers to hold their heads in pain. They had been the demon's last words. As soon as Faith had shaken off the strange tingling sensation scattering to and fro across her brain, she'd snatched the large axe from Xander's grasp and sent it whirling at the demon's thick neck.

Faith had gone home alone after that, sick of seeing Angel's hands all over Buffy as if Buffy was some little old lady in danger of breaking a hip when she sneezed. Faith had insisted she felt fine despite the prickling feeling in her fingers and toes. Now, several days later, that feeling had gotten worse.  

Tick. Tick. Tick.

Clutching at her head, Faith fights the urge to find that damn clock. Why the hell is it so loud anyway? She asks herself, closing her eyes and concentrating on the techniques Giles has been teaching her to help control her short temper. Breathing slowly, she focuses on something else, or tries to. Things come and go fleetingly in her mind, failing to help. She has nothing in her life that makes her feel calm, secure.

She thinks of Giles, but irritation with his stuffiness makes her quickly shake him from her head. She thinks of Willow and bites at her lip, almost drawing blood. No, Willow was definitely not the person to think about to calm her - she had a knack of making Faith want to pull her own hair out even on the best of days. Xander - that worked slightly better. He was a good guy, though the way he'd squirm in his seat whenever Faith leaned too close to him made her want to laugh out loud now that they'd gotten a little down 'n' dirty together, which did not make her feel calm and serene.

Then there was Buffy. Thoughts of her always confused Faith. She wouldn't exactly say that Buffy brought about a sense of serenity inside her either. Quite the opposite actually.

They were like chalk and cheese.

Tick.

"For fuck's sake," Faith grunts, slapping her palms down on the table top.

She pushes her chair back and thinks about standing and pacing. Decides not to. Faith knows she's there early; earlier than even Giles. Sneaking in had been easy and she'd had nothing better to do, unable to sleep. She was annoyed that nobody had contacted her about missing the previous few morning's meetings, but she supposed she just didn't rank highly enough on the Scooby radar. She was sure, if some demon had been threatening Buffy's skinny ass again they'd have been banging down her door for her help in a heartbeat. That was the way it went.

It had been ok to begin with, when she'd first arrived. Buffy's friends had welcomed her, but then they'd cooled on her after the night she'd almost killed the deputy Mayor. As if it had been her fault! The stupid man shouldn't have been sneaking around in dark alleys.    

It had really rattled Buffy. Hell, it had rattled Faith too, though she'd done her damndest to appear as if it hadn't. Things had changed since then, and Buffy and her friends had backed off. She didn't really care about the Scoobies, but Buffy's attitude towards her had Faith feeling angry.

No, thinking of Buffy was not helping to calm her.

Finally, after what feels like forever, Giles saunters into the library, a steaming cup of coffee in one hand and a newspaper in the other. He looks up and Faith practically feels his confusion.

"Am I late?" he asks, almost spilling his coffee as he tries to check his watch.

A million and one sarcastic comments flash through Faith's brain, but she bites every one of them down. Even her own voice is irritating to her right now and she doesn't want to start the day off in Giles' bad books.

"No, I'm early," Faith clarifies, tapping her short fingernails on the polished wood of the table.

Giles places his cup and the newspaper down on the counter close to the door, scratching at his head as he peers at Faith through his glasses.

"Is there a problem?" he questions, stepping closer. "Did something happen during last night's patrol?"

With a sigh Faith looks away, tightening her grip on her even shorter than normal fuse. She can see his real questions dancing across his eyes - had she almost murdered another human? Had she fucked up, again?

"Always gotta think there's a problem, huh? Something I did wrong," she gripes, hearing the whine in her own voice and hating it.

"No, I just . . ." Giles relaxes his tight shoulders, moving close to the table. "I didn't mean to sound like I was accusing you of anything, Faith," he says softly.

Faith grunts, still not looking at him, glad at least that he didn't try to deny he'd sounded like he was expecting Faith to tell him she'd done something awful. She wasn't stupid; she knew the sound of disappointment well.

"So, why are you here so early?" he asks, retrieving his coffee once again and unlocking the door to his office. "We haven't seen you for a few days."

"No shit," Faith responds, her hackles already raised and only getting higher as Buffy strolls in with Willow close behind. Their gazes snag but Buffy says nothing so Faith continues. "It's not like I was laying dead in that crap hole they call a motel, waiting for somebody to come and find my decaying ass," she says with a glare at the two girls situating themselves noisily across from her at the table.

"What was that?" Giles calls from his office before trundling back out again with his newspaper.

"Something about decaying," Buffy helpfully points out, a little smirk on her face as Faith glares harder.

It's then that Faith realises her head is no longer pounding as bad as it has been, and the clock - that fucking infuriating clock - is no longer making her brain want to dissolve and melt out of her ears. She furrows her brow, the glare she'd been sporting no longer feeling necessary as Buffy suddenly gives her an intensely quizzical look. The narrowing of Buffy's eyes makes Faith feel uncomfortable, but not in the way she's been feeling lately. Not in that way that has made her scratch at her own skin until it's raw, in that way that has had her pacing her room, rearranging her furniture, unable to even go out and slay.

"Buffy?" Willow says, waving a hand in front of Buffy's face. Buffy shakes her head, but her eyes are still fixed on Faith. "Buffy, I asked where you wanted to go for lunch today. Yunno, it's Wednesday and we normally go for greasy diner food, but you haven't been feeling well so I . . ."

The sound of Willow's voice quickly fades and Faith realises that she had also missed Willow's initial question. Not that it was odd for her to ignore Willow, but something didn't feel right. She hadn't heard her voice, or even really acknowledged that Willow was there once Buffy had started looking at her as if Faith had grown another head.

The bustling of Xander pushing through the door as he attempts not to drop his bag, and several books he's balancing, finally breaks eye contact between Faith and Buffy, and Faith once again feels a slight prickle of pain deep inside her head. Something isn't right, but she's not about to draw attention to it just yet. Maybe she'd speak with Giles alone, after Buffy and her merry band of nerds leave to go about their day.

"Anything to report?" Giles asks once everybody is sat around the large table.

"Nope," both Buffy and Faith say at once.

There's an awkward and very silent pause as both slayers lock eyes and seemingly dare each other to question the validity of their identical claim. Faith just knows that Buffy is lying. Can sense it deep inside her. Suddenly it's as if she knows more about Buffy than Buffy even knows about her self. Faith's legs start to feel heavy, solid as she slouches down further in her chair, every breath making her head spin. The room around her swirls slightly and she loses herself in the flecks of green within Buffy's hazel eyes, swimming in that gaze, sliding inside Buffy until she's not certain where she is or what's happening.

She feels panic, but she's not sure she's the one panicking. Confusion. Disbelief. A whole bunch of things that clamber for sense.  

"Are you ok, Faith?" She hears to her left. Xander's voice, echoing in the distance.

Her breathing is hard, as if she's just been running, and Faith digs her nails into the palms of her hands, bringing her back to herself with a flutter.

"What!" she practically yells, voice breaking.

"You totally looked like you were about to faint," Xander points out, leaning towards Faith.

He's too close and she wants to push him away.

"I'm fine," she says, too loudly.

Scraping her chair back she stands up, doing her best to avoid Buffy's gaze, though Buffy seems to be doing the same. She's not feeling agitated right now, she's feeling worried, and a worried Faith makes for an angry Faith.

"What the fuck are you all looking at me for?" she snaps. "I came here to play your game - do your whole meeting thing - and you're all looking at me like I'm fucking crazy. So what if I was here a little early, I couldn't sleep!"

"Faith, calm down," Giles implores, his quiet voice soothing Faith just a little. "I'm afraid Xander's quite right, you did appear rather ill for a moment. Is everything ok?"

She feels attacked, backed into a corner. She's never stuck around before when she's felt that way, always choosing to get the hell away from whatever's causing her to feel trapped. Her gaze snaps to the door, feet urging her to run.

"Hey," Buffy says softly. Buffy has moved without Faith even realising it to stand close to her, placing herself between Faith and her friends and Watcher. "There's no need to leave. I've been feeling kinda . . .odd too. Not sleeping, antsy, angry at everything. Does that ring a bell?"

Faith looks at Buffy, trying to find the accusation or criticism in her words, but finds only understanding, and something akin to fear. Two things Faith has rarely, if ever, seen in Buffy's eyes. She nods slightly.  

"We need to talk about this," Buffy adds. "Something's going on I think."

Faith's gaze travels past Buffy to the people on the other side of the room. She knows she should be able to trust them, but she doesn't really - not yet, if ever. Noting Faith's apprehension, Buffy turns to her friends.

"Hey guys, I'll catch up with you in a little while if you wanna head out to class now," she says, still lingering close to Faith, as if protecting her.

"You sure, Buff?" Xander asks even as Willow gathers her things and prepares to leave.

His eyes travel over Faith, concern - and something else more to do with his libido - etched on his face.

"I'm sure, it's just boring slayer stuff," Buffy assures with a smile.

Faith finds herself relaxing as she waits close to Buffy. It's not a state she's used to when in the other slayer's presence, and that's enough of a worry in itself. Something definitely isn't right, making her feel even more weird and edgy.

"Later, guys," Faith says, a little muted, as Xander and Willow make their way out of the library with grim smiles and waves.

Buffy sighs deeply and rubs at her forehead, her body seeming to slouch all of a sudden. She looks tired to Faith - almost as tired as Faith feels. Still, as tired as she is, Faith finds herself feeling infinitely better the closer she stands to Buffy.

"Are you going to leave me guessing?" Giles pipes up, leaning against the now empty table in the middle of the room. He adjusts his glasses and waits.

Buffy looks to Faith but Faith can only shrug.

"Well, I don't know about Faith, but I haven't been feeling right for a few days now," Buffy says, though doesn't yet elaborate.

"A few days; why didn't you bring this to my attention sooner?" Giles asks, removing his glasses now altogether as he pinches the bridge of his nose. "Do we really need to go over the basics of the Slayer and Watcher relationship again, Buffy?"

"Of course not, I just . . .there was nothing to really tell you about at first, I just didn't feel right," Buffy tries to explain with a scowl.

"And by that, what exactly do you mean?" he presses.

Buffy moves to sit in one of the chairs by the table, but hesitates when Faith remains where she is. A look that could be mistaken for a plea crosses Buffy's face, hitting Faith right in the middle of her chest. With confusion, Faith follows Buffy to the table and sits beside her, wondering what exactly compelled her to feel the need to stay so close, and why Buffy had appeared almost stricken at the notion that Faith would remain way over the other side of the room from her.

Fiddling with a loose strand of cotton from her shirt, Faith wonders if Buffy really has been feeling the same as she has the last few days, and what that could possibly mean. At least she isn't the only one going nuts.

"It's hard to explain," Buffy begins. "I can't speak for Faith but I haven't been sleeping, and I feel agitated. Kinda clumsy. And my head has been pounding as if a troupe of antelopes in clogs has been doing the macarena in my brain."

Faith nods beside her, understanding each symptom perfectly.

"In fact," Buffy continues, "today - since I've been in here - has been the first time I haven't had a full blown headache."

"And you say this has been over the period of a few days?" Giles asks, his thinking face making his features crumple slightly.

"Yes, getting progressively worse," Buffy answers.

"Are your symptoms similar, Faith?"

"Pretty much," Faith replies. "Been feeling wicked antsy, and also . . .yunno."

For some reason she feels odd saying the word she's used a thousand times - a sudden case of prude making her tongue-tied.

A raised eyebrow indicates that Giles expects her to elaborate, though out of the corner of her eye she sees a blush spread over Buffy's cheeks that could probably start a forest fire.

"We need all the information, Faith," Giles reminds her. "This could be serious if it affects your slaying."

Faith couldn't argue with that as she'd had no luck at all out slaying; every night she’d been able to go out had been a bust as she'd been too riled up to concentrate.

"I've been horny as hell," she finally adds, watching Buffy slip lower in her chair as if wishing the ground would open and swallow her whole.

"Ah, I see," Giles stutters. His gaze flicks to Buffy, who nods almost imperceptibly, agreeing with Faith. "We need to pinpoint if this is related, and if so how it came about. I need details of every patrol you've done over the last week, the demons or vampires you came across, and . . ."

"No need," Buffy interrupts. "I'm almost certain it happened Sunday night, when we were fighting . . ."

"That fucker!" Faith buts in, her hands tightening into fists. "He did some weird kinda voodoo on us."

"Language please, Faith," Giles admonishes gently. "And what exactly are we talking about?"

"That Iggy Pop demon," Buffy says eagerly.

Furrowing his brow slightly, Giles finally understands. "You mean the Iggpahpo demon?"

"Whatever his name was, he spoke some weird shit at us, and since then . . .major brain pain," Faith agrees with a nod.

"Hmm, maybe I missed something in my research," Giles mutters, heading towards a pile of old books. He snatches one up and brings it to the table. "It sounds like some sort of . . .maybe that's why . . .yes, it must be!"

"Um, Giles?" Buffy says, getting his attention. "Vague is not your color, can you maybe finish a sentence please?"

"Ah, sorry," Giles responds, waving the book towards Buffy. "I have a theory, but I'll have to do a little research."

"Great," Faith groans, wishing she hadn't bothered coming in - old books just did not do it for her.

"Is this the kind of research that requires more than just you?" Buffy asks before Faith can.

"Well, it probably shouldn't take me too long to . . ."

"I guess I better get to class then," Buffy interrupts unenthusiastically, pushing her chair out and grabbing her bag before Giles can finish.

He gives her a small nod and proceeds to bury his nose in books, leaving Faith to decide what she wants to do. Buffy gives her a rather hesitant goodbye, taking her time as if in two minds whether to go or not, and as Faith watches her leave she decides she may as well stay for a while - suddenly the thought of leaving, or going too far away, has her all kinds of itchy again.  

Giles hands her a book to thumb through, not asking why she chose to stay, and probably not caring. Whatever, Faith thinks to herself, at least she won't be sat in her motel room alone.

After a short while Giles has made many notes, telling Faith he'd like to ask her and Buffy a few more questions later. Faith shrugs, fine with whatever he needs to do - her headache is back and she can't stop moving. Her constant back and forth across the room eventually catches Giles' attention.

"You're feeling the symptoms again?" Giles asks.

"That obvious, huh?" she answers sarcastically, throwing a ball and catching it as she walks around the small space in front of the counter.

"Interesting," Giles says with a few added noises of contemplation.

He watches Faith for a moment, then disappears into his office.

"I've asked for Buffy to be excused classes; we need to get to the bottom of this," he informs Faith when he emerges a few minutes later. "I have a feeling she's experiencing just as much agitation and anxiety as you appear to be at the moment."

"She seemed fine when she left," Faith grumbles, wondering if Buffy had shaken off whatever was ailing them.

"Exactly," Giles exclaims with a satisfied grin. "I think I may have found the culprit for this strange occurrence if Buffy is showing similar signs to you."

"Well hallelujah for that; can you fix it?" Faith asks.

"I'm afraid I haven't got that far in my research yet."

Faith does her best not to snap at him, her jaw clenching as she wonders how long she can carry on like this. And she realises there's more at stake than her own sanity. If things get worse, there will be no slaying. And no slaying on a Hellmouth does not sound like a barrel full of happy.

"Please tell me you have Tylenol," Buffy grunts as she pushes through the library doors, holding her head with one hand. "I need at least three bottles, stat."

"Won't do any good," Faith grumbles, having taken far more than was probably wise the day before.      

"I seriously can't take it anymore," Buffy complains, dumping her bag on the floor.

"Give it a few minutes," Giles suggests. "Sit down and try to relax, we're going to do a little experiment."

"Relax?" Buffy asks, exasperated. "I don't even remember what that word means; I can't concentrate on anything, and my skin feels so hot I'm seriously thinking about taking a very small, very cold bath in one of the sinks in the nearest girl's toilet."

"Probably not advisable," Giles recommends as he indicates for Faith to sit down next to Buffy.

"So, what are we doing?" Buffy asks as she also sits, her knees bouncing up and down as she fights to stay still.

"An experiment, Buffy," Giles repeats.

"Sitting here; that's the experiment?" Buffy presses, glaring at Giles.

Faith rolls her eyes, unsure if she's more annoyed with Buffy or with Giles. Weirdly though, she can feel her muscles beginning to relax a little, and her head once again clearing.

"Try to remain quiet, Buffy," Giles instructs as he makes hasty notes.

"Did he just tell me to shut up?" Buffy asks, turning to Faith with her eyebrows raised.

Faith nods with a smirk, enjoying the expression on Buffy's face. She realises Buffy can look kind of adorable sometimes. Often, in fact.

Shaking her head and chuckling to herself, Faith sits back and tries to ignore how annoying her little crush on Buffy is becoming. She's done her best not let it get out of hand, but she's never really felt this way about anybody before, and every time she thinks she'll get over it Buffy does something that makes her want her all over again. It's maddening.

As she's concentrating on not liking Buffy, Faith doesn't realise until several minutes have passed that she no longer feels as antsy and headache-y. There's still a sense of unease inside her, and her body just doesn't feel right, but there's definitely a difference.

"Do you feel better?" she turns to ask Buffy.

"I feel bored," Buffy answers with a huff, arms folded across her chest. "But now that you mention it, yes, I do feel less . . .weird."

With a pleased smile, Giles removes his glasses to give them a self-congratulatory wipe.

"It's as I thought," he says. "When in the presence of one another, the symptoms lessen. Am I right?" 

Both slayers take a moment to think, and then confirm he is correct in his assumption.

"So what does it mean, and how do we fix this?" Buffy asks, leaning forward.

"I haven't quite reached that part yet, but I do believe the demon we encountered on Sunday night placed a . . .hex, if you will, on you both."

"Just fucking great," Faith complains, earning her a stern look from Giles. "Sorry," she mutters and runs a hand through her hair, wishing she could get the hell out of the stuffy library.

Of course, if Giles is indeed right, getting away from the library probably wasn't going to happen any time soon.  

"Until I can find some way to remove this hex, I think it best you stay close to each other, and don't patrol alone," Giles advises, pulling more books from the shelf.

"So, what exactly does this hex do?" Buffy asks. "Apart from what we've been feeling, I mean. Are we going to grow tails or horns at some point? Do I have to worry about excessive drooling?"

"No more than usual," Faith says with a chuckle.

"Hey, this affects you too," Buffy points out. "You won't be so hot when you have boils growing on your eyelids and ooze coming from the corners of your mouth."

Faith blinks, feeling a little sick at the thought of any of those things happening, but also finding herself a little pleased that Buffy just kind of called her hot.

"Nah, I'd still be hot," she responds with a wink that makes Buffy blush.

Giles clears his throat. "I doubt it will manifest itself physically at this stage, just report to me if anything does . . .grow."

Buffy's loud yawn halts anything further Giles was going to say, and Faith finds herself unable to stifle her own yawn. They haven't been sleeping, and now that the symptoms have lessened - in each other's company - both slayers begin to feel the tug of exhaustion.

"Maybe you should both go and get some rest while I look into this," Giles suggests. "With Willow and Xander's help I'm sure we can lift the hex before it causes too much distress."

"Yeah, about that distress thing," Faith says, feeling her eyelids grow heavier by the second. "I need to sleep, but if I gotta stay close to Team Barbie over here, how am I gonna do that?"

"You'll have to come home with me," Buffy says without so much as a cautious pause. "We have a spare room."

The admission causes further blushing, and Faith wants to tell her that she'd never expect Buffy's mom to take her in to save her from the fleapit of a motel she was staying at under normal circumstances, so Buffy could save her embarrassment. She'd go home with her because of this hex, but she wasn't a charity case.

"Cool," Faith says with a nonchalant nod.

They didn't stray far from each other all the way to Buffy's house, and once there they ate, then went through Buffy's homework - though that mainly consisted of Faith telling her the answers to every math problem she had so it would get done quicker.

"I didn't know you were such a wiz at math," Buffy comments as she puts away her books.

"Nothing to it," Faith responds with indifference. "Maybe I ain't as stupid as you all think."

"I don't think you're stupid," Buffy quickly corrects, looking into Faith's eyes across the table.

"Whatever," Faith mumbles, pushing up from her chair.

They hadn't spoken about the little shared hex problem, avoiding the subject as if it might open all kinds of doors and windows into their 'friendship' that neither one of them wanted. They also hadn't attempted to sleep yet and Faith was beginning to feel her body going into shutdown, even though she still felt slightly on edge. If she were being honest, she'd also have to admit to the lingering horniness that still prickled at her. She was normally a slave to her hormones, but this was more persistent than what she was used to. 

"So, you gonna show me where I can take a nap?" Faith asks, stifling yet another yawn.

"Sure," Buffy replies. "The bed is all made up already. Come on."

Faith follows Buffy up the stairs, only momentarily allowing her gaze to wander to Buffy's small backside as she goes on ahead. It wouldn't do to get herself even more worked up.

"Do you want something to wear?" Buffy asks as she pushes open the door to the spare room and Faith enters.

"Nah," Faith replies, already unbuckling her pants and pushing off her boots at the same time. "Just wake me when it's time to slay."

"Oh, ok," Buffy says quietly, watching for a moment as Faith starts to push down her pants.

Faith pauses, eyes fixed on Buffy's just as much as Buffy's eyes are fixed to Faith's hands as they grip the material of her pants to tug them downwards.

"I should . . .probably go take a nap too," Buffy stutters, though she remains standing in the doorway.

"Probably a good idea, genius," Faith says with a chuckle, watching the slow blush creep up Buffy's neck.

Their eyes meet and Faith feels her breath catch, her body humming from the inside out with a sudden intensity that almost has her tumbling to the floor. The same feeling from the library - a heavy, swirl-y sensation; her breath coming quick and short.

"God!" Buffy exclaims with a gasp as her eyes remain locked on Faith's. "What is this feeling?"  

She sounds almost drunk to Faith; words slurring and breath rapid.

Faith drops heavily to the mattress behind her, trousers falling to her ankles and pooling around her boots, revealing very tight, very red panties. She catches Buffy's gaze as it flickers over her, pupils growing large as she pauses to stare here and there at Faith's half undressed state. Arousal climbs the walls of Faith's resolve to put a leash on her Buffy-crush, and she can't ignore what she's feeling, or the sudden dampness of her underwear.   

She's suddenly embarrassingly wet, her body reacting as if Buffy were actually touching her all over.

Faith wants to pull her gaze away from Buffy, yank her pants up and yell at her to get out and leave her in peace, but she says nothing as Buffy imperceptibly inches forward, further into the room.

"You have to stop looking at me like that, B," Faith states shakily as she sits no more than a meter or two away from Buffy, wishing she were somewhere else entirely.

Her hormones are going crazy. Fast tracked arousal making her head spin.

"Like what?" Buffy asks, the intensity of her stare causing Faith's arm hair to stand on end one by one.

Faith tires to answer but only manages a squeak. She clears her throat and tries again.

"Like you want to eat me alive, or dead, or something," she explains warily. 

Shaking her head, as if attempting to clear it, Buffy abruptly stops moving forward.

“Eat you?” Buffy squeaks. “I don’t want to . . .” She swallows hard and takes a large step backwards, banging her butt into the doorframe. “Definitely no eating”

Buffy’s voice is strained in a way Faith has never heard before. Her hands clenched into tight fists at her sides. Buffy momentarily glances down, between Faith’s legs, and groans so desperately that Faith feels it rumble right through her, straight to her groin.

“Oh, God,” Buffy laments, breathing hard, a hand flying to her forehead.

She turns and flees, muttering “no,” over and over in her retreat.

“What the fuck?” Faith asks to the empty room as her head stops swirling but her body becomes trapped between extreme need and fleeting relief. “What just happened?”

Looking down, as if noticing for the first time she’s sprawled on the bed with her pants around her ankles, Faith can clearly see the evidence of her sudden and intense arousal seeping through her panties.

“Fuck,” she utters, wiping a hand across her face.

She just knows Buffy saw. Knows Buffy figured out what it means and freaked out about it. And knows things are about to become intensely awkward.  

“I really hope you’ve got a fix for this, Giles,” Faith grumbles to herself as she falls back completely on the bed, arms flung out to her sides. “If she looks at me like that one more time I’m gonna fucking pop.” 

A clatter and several colourful curses coming from Buffy’s room across the hall makes Faith grin just a little. Maybe she isn’t the only one about to pop.

TBC…