Suggested Listening: “The Chain” by Ingrid Michaelson

The howling wind rattled the panes of the blonde slayer’s apartment windows, and large raindrops pelted against the glass.  The golden-haired woman pulled her cotton robe tighter around her thin shoulders to ward off the chill of the stormy evening. 

Rummaging through the barren kitchen pantry, Buffy hunted for the last packet of powdered hot chocolate she knew was hiding amongst the nearly empty boxes of cereal and Minute Rice. She seriously needed to go grocery shopping soon.  Not that she really had the money to go all out, but it would be nice to eat real food that week.  The freezer was barren beyond a few oven pizzas that better resembled Frisbees than actual food.

The small blonde hummed a wordless tune to herself. She pressed the microwave buttons and programmed the dilapidated machine to heat up a mug of water.  Buffy stared wistfully out the small window above the kitchen skink as she waited for her water to heat up.  The sky appeared darker than usual as if the stars had refused to shine that night, and the Cleveland skyline was faintly visible from the window of her 8th floor apartment.

Another brisk gust of wind shook and rattled the single-paned windows of the modest Cleveland apartment with which the slayer shared with her younger sister. Dawn was out for the evening, however. The awkward and lanky teen had made an easy transition to her new high school and the sleepover party she was at tonight was evidence of this.  Buffy smiled, remembering the few sleepover gatherings she had been invited to prior to her family moving to Sunnydale.  Sleeping was never on the agenda at those things.

And so Buffy found herself alone.  Not that she particularly minded it.  After sharing a two-bathroom house with an Army of teenaged girls during the final weeks of Sunnydale’s existence, she was now blissfully alone in Cleveland.

But it was turning into the kind of night where the only solace to be found resided in the arms of a lover. Something the California native currently didn’t have.

Buffy had tentatively begun dating once she and her friends had settled after the implosion of the Sunnydale Hellmouth.  A date here or there, but nothing serious.  Nothing, that is, until she realized that the person she had been searching for had been there all along.  Or at least had been present ever since she’d broken out of prison. 

While Willow and Giles had worked vigorously that first uncertain month to re-establish the Council and track down the thousands of girls and women who suddenly found themselves imbedded with super-natural strength, the Chosen One took a break.

It certainly wasn’t a permanent retirement, however – not with another Hellmouth to guard over and apocalypses no doubt in the immediate future. But Buffy had afforded herself a month of normality – four full weeks to enjoy being a twenty-something.  She had been a cyclone of activity that early month – going out nearly every night to dance, to drink, and to be free of responsibilities. 

When the rest of her friends quickly tired of the college-type lifestyle and returned to demon hunting and prophesies, the Boston slayer had been the only one of the group to keep up.  Faith was swept up in Hurricane Buffy, enjoying the frivolity and the company of her sister-Slayer as well as her own new freedom.  Night after night, rather than patrolling, the Chosen Two forsake their sacred duties in lieu of grinding with anonymous dance partners and partaking in the ancient art of Body Shots.

It wasn’t long into Buffy’s ‘retirement’ that she and her darker comrade found themselves in a passionate and chaotic relationship that neither had expected.  Nights clubbing together in the city center merged into early morning awkwardness, picking up discarded clothes from the previous night, hiding their naked bodies as best they could despite knowing the other had seen them in a far more vulnerable and intimate state just a few hours prior. 

And every time they promised themselves and each other that it had been a horrible, albeit mind-blowing mistake, the following morning they would find themselves in the same position once again, uselessly searching the bedroom floor for misplaced bras and underwear.  Eventually, however, the awkward fumbling to redress in the early morning sunlight had transformed into sleeping in.  The urgency to leave each other’s beds faded away and turned into gentle morning kisses and familiar caresses.  Neither girl knew what exactly was happening to their often tumultuous relationship, but they both knew it felt good.  It felt right.

When Buffy decided she had had enough clubbing and needed to return to slaying, she was surprised to learn she wouldn’t be returning to a cohesive group of Scoobies.  After a month of mourning Anya’s death, Xander made the decision to leave Cleveland.  The brave carpenter promised he would return, but only when he felt he had properly mourned the loss of the woman he had loved.  But the one eyed man wasn’t the only person who left to find answers or closure.  Faith decided to leave as well.

She explained to the tight-knit group of friends that she needed to make amends with her past before she could truly move forward.  Although she felt she had paid for the crimes committed in Sunnydale, there were far older wounds from which to recover.  Buffy had encouraged her to do what she had to do, but warned that she couldn’t wait for her forever.  The Californian had waited too long already.

They had parted on good terms – one final night together – and when the elder slayer awoke in the morning, she had found herself alone in bed.  There was no note, no sign that the brunette had even been there the previous night beyond the familiar, satisfied ache between the Chosen One’s thighs.

Buffy didn’t know what the dark slayer was doing in Boston or when she’d be back.  Faith had told her not to expect any phone calls, emails, or even a carrier pigeon.  The brunette had justified the silence by explaining that talking to the elder slayer would only make it harder for her to get done what she needed to do.  So the California slayer hadn’t heard from the younger woman since she had left.  One month ago.

Buffy sighed audibly as she carefully removed the hot ceramic mug from the microwave.  “And what am I doing tonight?” she lamented to herself. “Waiting.”

A tentative knock at the front door pulled the blonde slayer from her murky thoughts. Buffy reflexively pulled her ratty terrycloth robe tighter around her thin frame.  She wasn’t expecting guests, so she wore only an oversized t-shirt beneath her robe. The Californian glanced quickly at the clock on the microwave.  It was nearly 8pm and she couldn’t fathom who would be visiting at this hour and in this kind of weather.

Buffy padded over to the front door in her robe, oversized t-shirt, and large fuzzy slippers. The slayer felt mildly annoyed to have her quiet night disrupted. “It had better not be Brad from down the hall,” she silently cursed. “I’m so not in the mood to keep dodging him.”

It wasn’t that the tall, sandy-haired co-ed didn’t have his charms, but Buffy had promised herself not to get involved with any neighbors.  Especially ones who reminded her so much of Riley.  Plus there was Faith to consider. “But you said you wouldn’t wait for her,” she chastised herself.

The front door rattled slightly when another solid knock shook the door on its hinges. The loud noise shook Buffy. The person in the hallway was getting impatient as the golden-haired slayer hesitated just within the foyer. Finally, the Californian reached for the doorknob and unlocked the deadbolt.  Buffy opened the door and peered into the apartment hallway beyond the gold-colored door chain.

“Y-you,” the blonde slayer stammered, taking a step backwards away from the door.

The visitor’s voice was thick and raspy. “Yeah, me.”

“Can I come in?” the Boston woman asked after it was clear the golden-haired slayer was too taken-aback to speak. Her dark locks were plastered to the sides of her beautiful face and her heavy mascara was slightly smudged under her expressive eyes. She wore a dark denim jacket over a black tank top.

“Oh, uh. Y-yes.  Just a second,” Buffy rambled, taking another step backwards.  The slayer closed the apartment door and breathed out shakily. Her face felt suddenly hot and her mouth dry, yet her palms were damp and clammy. Why did she feel this way? It was just Faith on the other side of the door.  Faith, who had been MIA for the past month – the girl whom Buffy had told she wouldn’t wait for.

Taking a deep breath, she moved the chain across the latch and opened the door.

“Come in,” Buffy stated solemnly.  She moved to one side to make room for the rain-soaked visitor. Faith crossed the threshold and stamped her heavy boots on the welcome mat just within the apartment foyer. Her shoes were thick with mud and she bent over briefly to pull her footwear off.

Buffy continued to stare at her unexpected visitor. She absently brought a hand to the side of her head and smoothed back the golden strands. The elder slayer silently breathed a sigh of relief that she had taken time to shower that day despite staying in.

Faith stepped out of her boots and carefully set them to the side.  She righted herself and looked around the slightly messy living room.  Opened mail was opened and scattered on the small dining room table. Magazines were strewn on the coffee table amongst a small pile of dirty dishes.

“Where’s your little sis?” the dark slayer asked in a serious voice.

“Sleepover party,” the small slayer revealed.

“Good.”

Suddenly, the brunette was upon her, hungrily pressing an eager mouth to Buffy’s unexpecting lips.  Rather than reject the abrupt advance, the smaller woman groaned, feeling a surge of lust rush through her body. Faith’s wet clothes felt cold and rough against her own warm skin, but Buffy ignored the clamminess of the material. She knew all-too-well the heat that resided beneath that layer of rain-soaked clothing.

The Boston girl’s nimble fingers quickly went to the loose neckline of Buffy’s short robe and she pulled the garment from the lithe slayer’s form, hastily dropping it to the carpeted ground. When Faith’s hands traveled to the bottom hem of the blonde girl’s oversized t-shirt, Buffy pulled away.

“Wait,” the blonde slayer said breathlessly.

“No.”

The dark-haired woman’s mouth crushed back against the elder slayer’s parted lips. Her tongue probed inside Buffy’s warm mouth and the Californian was unable to stifle her moan.  Buffy’s hands slid up the sides of Faith’s face and she entangled her thin, feminine fingers in the Boston girl’s unruly and damp locks.  Her nostrils were filled with the scent of fragrant shampoo, the rain having re-awaken the scent of Faith’s freshly washed hair.

Faith’s right hand slipped beneath the short hem of Buffy’s large t-shirt.  Her fingertips stroked along the soft cotton material of the Californian’s underwear.  The blonde sighed into her lover’s mouth and widened her stance, allowing the dark slayer better access to her increasingly aroused sex.  The Boston-born slayer’s talented fingers brushed against the front of the soft panties, seeking out Buffy’s hardening nub.  Her fingertips rubbed against Buffy’s panty-covered clit pulling another encouraging sigh from her golden-haired lover.

The brunette pushed the cotton material to the side and wiggled her fingers beneath the leg band.  The Californian’s shaved sex felt warm and swollen.  Faith slipped just the tips of her fingers along the elder slayer’s seeping slit.  Buffy’s fresh arousal coated the tops of her digits.

“N-not like this,” Buffy nearly begged as she felt her knees go weak from Faith’s intimate touch. “Not right here.”

Faith stilled the movements of her right hand and pulled her face away from her lover’s flushed visage.  “What’s wrong?” she asked in a raspy voice.  Her dark eyes searched Buffy’s troubled face.

The Californian sheepishly bit her bottom lip. “It’s just that I’ve been imagining what it would be like when you finally came back,” she quietly admitted. “And in my dream, you always carry me back into the bedroom.”

A small smirk crossed the dark-haired slayer’s thick lips. “You’ve been fantasizing about this moment?”

Buffy flashed a defiant look at her sister-Slayer. “Don’t be getting a big head or anything,” she scowled, resting her hands on her boyishly narrow hips. “They were just silly dreams; that’s all.”

Faith pursed her lips, looking thoughtful and then abruptly dipped, her hands reaching for Buffy’s thighs and backside.  The Boston girl scooped the smaller slayer into her arms, and adeptly lifted her from the ground.  “Is this what you had in mind?” the taller girl murmured quietly.  She nuzzled her nose into the side of Buffy’s head, her face enjoying the silken softness of the Chosen One’s blonde hair.

“Oh yeah,” Buffy revealed in a slightly husky tone. “This is good so far.”

The dark slayer made her way toward the back of the apartment with the lithe slayer in her arms.  Faith nudged Buffy’s bedroom door open with her sock-covered toes and carried the elder woman toward her double-sized bed in the center of the room.  The Californian half expected to be unceremoniously dumped in the middle of the bed.  That seems more Faith’s style.  She certainly didn’t expect to be laid down gently, as if her skin was constructed from the most fragile porcelain.

When she met her dark lover’s eyes with a look of confusion, Faith smiled. “I don’t have to be rough all the time,” she admitted with a small shrug.  Buffy watched, hoping she wasn’t drooling too much, as the Boston slayer shrugged out of the damp jean jacket and pulled off her dark tank-top to reveal an off-pink lace bra.  It wasn’t quite pink, but it wasn’t quite beige either.  It was just sexy as hell against the younger slayer’s olive-toned skin.  Her soft rounded flesh heaved with every deep breath, threatening to spill from the flimsy undergarment.

The dark girl’s hipbones rose from the tops of her dangerously low straight-legged jeans.  The bulky men’s belt, cinched around Faith’s waist, further accentuated the soft feminine curves on her hips and waist.  Her abdomen looked slightly more taut since the last time Buffy had feasted her eyes on that part of Faith’s body; the blonde suspected that while back in Boston the brunette slayer had fallen back into her regime of eating only when she could afford to.

Faith gave the elder slayer a small smirk. “What you lookin’ at?” she leered playfully.

Buffy propped herself up on her elbows and licked her full lips.  “Take off your pants,” the Californian instructed in a low voice.

The Boston girl’s hands went to her belt buckle and she roughly jerked the leather strap from the fastening.  Her nimble fingers popped open the top button of her faded jeans, and she yanked the front zipper down, conscious that the golden-haired slayer continued to stare at her as she undressed.  But the brunette felt no shame or hesitation.  She knew what she wanted, and she would only get it when both she and the blonde woman were completely undressed.

Faith tugged her jeans down her curvy hips, pulling down the small scrap of material that dared to call itself underwear as well.  Buffy bit her bottom lip and her face looked as though she was experiencing intense pain just from looking at the nearly naked body of the beautiful Bostonian.  Faith stood now only in her lacey, demi-bra.

“Who woulda thought I’d ever be good at takin’ your orders, huh, B?” the dark woman chuckled, stepping out of the jeans that had gathered around her ankles.  She crawled up the end of the bed on her hands and knees.  Faith knew she was giving the smaller slayer more than an eyeful of cleavage. Her bra struggled to continue to encase her ample breasts.

She straddled the smaller slayer between her powerful thighs.  Her hair was still damp from the rainstorm, and the wet tendrils tickled Buffy’s face as Faith leaned over her.  With one deft movement, the brunette slayer reached behind her back and unfastened her bra.  She shrugged out of the shoulder straps and the lacy garment fell off her torso.  The Californian had a sudden urge to bury her face in her lover’s cleavage, to nuzzle her face deep between the pert breasts swinging before her, and inhale the perfumed scent of the brunette’s skin.

Buffy awkwardly yanked her over-sized t-shirt off of her head rendering her naked as well as she had worn no undergarments under the shirt.  Her wildly flailing elbows narrowly missed Faith’s head. 

“Careful there, B,” the younger slayer chuckled.  “If ya give me a concussion, then I won’t be able to do stuff like this.”  Faith ducked her head and took a stiff nipple into her warm mouth. 

The Californian gasped and her hands instantly wove among the dark-haired girl’s wild locks.  The Boston slayer tongued her lover’s responsive nipples, the tiny pebbles surging towards the ceiling to meet Faith’s mouth. Buffy squirmed in place and her head rocked back and forth.  The pressure Faith applied to her nipples was causing the aftereffects of a small monsoon to gather between the Californian’s bronzed thighs.

Faith pulled her mouth away from the naked slayer’s bare breasts and a low growl emitted from her throat.  “I want you, Buffy,” she rasped in a husky tone.  “Been thinkin’ ‘bout nothing else the past thirty days.” Her dark eyes flashed dangerously in the dimly illuminated bedroom. “I want you screamin’ and cumin’ on my fingers.”

The Chosen One moaned quietly at the younger woman’s words.  Her brain told her to stop. To wait.  To talk first.  But her body was reminding her that it had been a month since she’d last felt her sister-Slayer’s talented touch. 

Faith shifted her body, positioning a knee between the elder slayer’s slender thighs.  She pressed her leg into the apex of the other woman’s core and leered when she felt the immediate wetness on her naked skin.  “Something tells me that you’ve been thinkin’ about this too, Princess,” she lightly taunted. 

The Boston girl pressed her thigh harder against Buffy’s sex and ground into her, causing the smaller slayer’s clit to rub against her upper leg.  The blonde released a long, shaky breath through her nostrils.  “Are you ready for me, baby?” the dark-haired girl grinned, rotating her upper leg in large, lazy circles, causing Buffy’s arousal to leak onto her thigh where their skin intimately touched.

“Mmmhmm,” the svelte blonde whimpered, thrusting her hips upwards to garner more friction.

Faith leaned forward and roughly kissed her lover.  “I’m gonna fuck you, Buffy,” she stated, pulling away from the Californian’s kiss-bruised mouth.  The Boston girl shifted her body once again, resting her full body weight more fully on her naked partner.  Both women groaned quietly at the feeling of their nude skin pressed tightly together.  Faith reached between their bodies and slipped the tips of two fingers inside the smaller slayer.

“More,” Buffy insisted, pulling on her lover’s shoulders and spreading her legs further apart.

Faith gave her sister-Slayer a cheeky grin.  She thrust her two fingers fully into the one beneath her.  “That what you had in mind, baby?” she smirked.

The Californian’s hazel-green eyes rolled backwards momentarily and a low, loud moan rushed out of her mouth.  Faith pulled her two, arousal-covered fingers completely out of her lover and then thrust them back into the elder slayer, causing Buffy’s breath to hitch.

“That’s it, baby,” the formerly rogue slayer encouraged as she began a hard, steady tempo, pistoning her two fingers in and out of Buffy’s pussy. “Give it up to me.  Show me how much you love my fingers buried in your sweet little cunny.”

The Chosen One dug her polished nails into the dark-haired girl’s back, the short nails biting her flesh and leaving behind tiny half-moons.  “Oh God, Faith,” she panted. “Don’t stop.  Don’t ever stop,” she begged as the younger slayer continued to attack her insides.

The Californian’s pussy tightened around the brunette woman’s thrusting fingers, causing Faith to groan with need. “Fuck, baby,” she growled. “Your cunt is so fuckin’ tight for me.  Fuck, I wanna make you cum.”

Buffy curled her toes and grunted quietly with each insistent push and pull of her lover’s fingers.  “Faith,” she breathed, still gripping to her shoulders tightly. “Faith, I’m so close.  I’m gonna cum.”

Faith chuckled. “So soon, Twinkie?  You must notta been takin’ good care of yourself while I was gone.  Good thing I’m back to give ya all the attention you can handle.”

The elder slayer grabbed onto Faith’s head and pulled her face down for a deep kiss.  Their tongues battled for dominance, furiously wrestling to gain control.  The Boston slayer’s fingers continued to penetrate the elder woman’s eager sex.  Buffy felt the familiar waves of pleasure tickling in her gut and moving down towards her pelvic bone.  She kissed her lover harder, hoping to convey how good she felt without words.

Faith curled her fingers inside of the elder slayer, brushing against Buffy’s G-spot.  The Californian’s body became rigid momentarily and she moaned wildly into the dark-haired slayer’s open mouth.  A jolt of pleasure shocked her system as the blonde’s first orgasm of the night flooded her system.

When the Chosen One regained control of her breathing, she opened her eyes to discover the dark slayer staring intently at her.  The brunette’s hair was slightly plastered to her forehead, a mixture of rainwater and perspiration. 

“Faith?” Buffy asked, the name and word the only thing she needed to say to indicate that she wasn’t sure what was going on.  The Boston girl laid on her side, propped up on one elbow while resting her head in the palm of one hand. The small muscles of her defined, naked bicep twitched subtly beneath her soft skin.

Faith brushed a few errant strands away from the Californian’s unlined forehead and tucked the golden hair behind her right ear.  Her breathing was deep and even, a sign that her body was completely at ease in this situation and position.  “You said you wouldn’t wait for me,” the dark girl rasped.  Her voice sounded strange, shattering the relative silence of the early dawn.

A half-smile fluttered on the blonde slayer’s pink mouth. She reached out and traced the pads of her fingers along the warm, pliable flesh of Faith’s lips.  The Boston girl’s tongue flicked out and the tip of her wet tongue made contact with the elder woman’s fingertips. “I guess some things are worth the wait after all,” Buffy admitted quietly, her eyes drawn to the younger slayer’s mouth and tongue.

“Is that you talkin’ or just your post-orgasm glow?” the brunette asked in a soft tone.  She grabbed Buffy’s searching hand in her own and pressed her thick lips against the blonde’s knuckles.

Even such a seemingly innocuous touch like this made the Californian’s stomach tighten and the ache between her thighs reawaken. “N-no,” she stammered, her voice low. “This is all me.”

Faith’s free hand slipped beneath the bed sheets and her fingers tickled up the naked flesh of Buffy’s slender thighs.  The Boston girl stroked the pads of her fingers along the delicate, quivering skin.  The Chosen One’s flesh twitched beneath the younger woman’s soft touch.  “If-if you wanted to have a serious conversation now,” Buffy warned, “you might not want to do that.”

The brunette’s fingers traveled further up Buffy’s inner thighs. “And why not?” she growled quietly in her lover’s ear, continuing to inch further up the insides of her legs.

Buffy’s clit began to ache for the talented touch of her sister-Slayer and she shifted slightly in bed, bending one leg at the knee.  Her hips fell open and she slightly lifted her pelvic bone toward the ceiling.  As the Boston girl’s hand trailed further and further toward her naked, dripping pussy, the small slayer’s breath became labored.  “Because,” she panted, her hips rolling slightly, “I can’t really form complete sentences with your hand down there.”

Undeterred by her lover’s minor protests, Faith brushed her fingertips against Buffy’s bare, swollen pussy lips.  Her skin was warm and slightly textured. “No offense, cutie, but you don’t really have complete mastery of the English language even when I’m not fingering your clit.”

Buffy gasped loudly when the Boston girl’s thumb pressed against her sensitive nub. “Oh God, Faith.”

The brunette buried her face in the Californian’s neck and she rubbed the elder slayer’s clit a little harder. “I love it when you sing my praises, baby,” she purred.

“Were you in Boston this entire time?”

The brunette sighed and pulled her hand away from Buffy’s inner thighs.  The blonde certainly had a talent for ruining the moment. “Yeah,” Faith begrudgingly confirmed, “mostly in the shitty neighborhood where I grew up.”

Buffy trailed her fingertips along the dark slayer’s defined collarbone, not oblivious to the fact that she had just interrupted Round Two.  “And what,” she asked, pausing to press her lips along the taller woman’s breastplate, “where you doing there?”

Faith closed her eyes and allowed herself to enjoy the blonde’s gentle attention.  She stroked her fingers along the back of Buffy’s neck, her fingertips playing lazily with the golden-strands there. “Had to face a couple demons,” the brunette grunted.

Buffy looked up at her lover with concern.  “Real demons? Or are these more of the metaphorical kind?”

The Boston girl rewarded the elder slayer with a lopsided smile. “When did you learn such a big word, cutie?”

“Stop it,” Buffy chastised, lightly swatting the girl’s arm. “I read.”

“Don’t think US Weekly counts as reading, sunshine,” the dark-haired girl quipped with a sassy grin.

“Fine,” Buffy huffed. “If you’re gonna be mean, I’ll just ignore you so you think I don’t actually care what you were doing when you left me.”

“I didn’t leave you,” Faith interjected with a serious frown. “I told ya I had some shit to deal with.”

“Well, you left me behind and didn’t call me once,” the blonde pointed out.

“And I told you it was gonna be like that,” Faith growled, her voice revealing her increasing annoyance. “Damn it, B,” the dark girl complained, sitting up abruptly in bed.  The bed sheets shifted, pooling around her slender waist. “If I wanted to be nagged, I woulda gotten a wife by now.”

Buffy’s eyes flashed with anger momentarily until her hazel-green irises came to rest on the brunette’s very naked, very mouth-watering breasts.  The California slayer reached over and stroked her fingertips along Faith’s twitching biceps, sweeping over to her breastplate, and over the soft swell of her fleshy breasts. “Don’t get angry, Fai,” she murmured, coaxing her lover to lie back down on the pillows.

The Boston girl obligingly reclined, but kept her body rigid so the woman next to her knew that she was far from happy.  She pressed her lips together to form a straight line.  “I had some serious bullshit to wade through,” she mumbled, “and I didn’t wanna drag ya down with me in case I couldn’t come back.”

Now it was the Californian’s turn to sit up in bed. “You were thinking of not coming back?!” she exclaimed.  The tears at the corners of her eyes were a surprise.

Faith frowned while glaring at the ceiling. “It woulda been too hard, B,” she tried to explain. “I just…” she paused, searching for the right words. “I was tired of bein’ so fuckin’ damaged; I needed to get closure on some fucked up shit from my past.” She shook her head sadly. “And…and I wanted for me to be good enough to deserve you.”

“You don’t think I’m damaged, too?” the elder slayer asked incredulously, twisting at the waist to stare down at the dark girl. “Faith, I’ve died twice, had sex with vampires, and basically went on a giant, destructive bender the past two years.  I tried to kill my sister and my best friends because I had it stuck in my head that Sunnydale was a figment of my imagination.”

The Boston girl gave her lover a strange smile. “Guess I missed out on some pretty big things when I was in prison.”

The blonde slayer’s body relaxed and she returned to her reclining position next to the dark woman.  “Yeah,” she murmured. “I guess we’ve got a lot to catch up on.”  Buffy blinked a few times and weighed her next words carefully. “It’s-it’s almost like we’re strangers,” she reluctantly admitted.

Faith sighed and looked up at the ceiling.  “Yeah,” she whispered regrettably.

Buffy poked her finger into her lover’s ribs.

“Ow!” the brunette woman complained, swatting the elder slayer’s hands away. “What was that for, B?”

“Just wanted your attention,” the Californian stated with a straight face.

“Aight, well you got it,” the younger slayer grumbled.  “So…whatdoyawant?”

The blonde stuck her hand out. “The name’s Buffy,” she deadpanned. “Buffy Summers.  Nice to meet you.”

Faith stared at the smaller woman’s outstretched hand and raised an eyebrow. “Are you for real?”

“Your turn, Fai,” Buffy grinned.

The brunette hesitantly took her lover’s hand in her own and gave it a firm shake.  “I’m Faith,” she grunted. “Faith Lehane.”

“Lehane?”

Faith furrowed her eyebrows together. “You didn’t know my last name?”

“You never told me it,” the Chosen One pointed out.

“You never asked,” the brunette slayer quickly retorted.

“Yeah…well…” Buffy hesitated anxiously, “that’s cause…we just met, remember?”

The Boston-born slayer smirked. “Do you normally lie in bed naked with people you’ve just met?”

The blonde blushed slightly.  “Okay, so maybe starting over wasn’t the best idea I’ve ever had.”

Faith nuzzled her nose against the Californian’s defined collarbone.  “Not here cause of your brains, Princess,” she mumbled against her lover’s slightly damp skin.

Buffy felt the dark slayer’s vibrations travel the length of her torso, down to her core.  She breathed in sharply, swallowing a mouthful of air. “Then why are you here?”

The Boston girl propped herself up on an elbow. “I thought it was obvious by now, sweet cheeks,” the brunette smirked.  “I’m in love with you.”

The golden-haired slayer stared blankly at the naked girl and her jaw went slack. “Y-you what?”

Faith raised a carefully manicured eyebrow. “Did I stutter?”

“But I…you…I mean…how…” the small blonde sputtered.

“Listen, I’ve been runnin’ from people all my life,” the dark-haired woman began.  “A deadbeat mom, social workers, the cops,” she chuckled darkly, “you.  And when I was back in Boston confronting all the ghosts from my past…” She paused to give the blonde a warning look. “Metaphorical ghosts, B,” the brunette clarified.  “Anyway,” she continued, shaking her head, “I realized I didn’t wanna run anymore.  I was fuckin’ sick of running all the time.  Or at least tired of running away.”

As the Boston girl continued to talk uninterrupted, the more her stomach tied itself into knots.  She wasn’t used to talking this long for so long, and especially not when the topic had to do with how she felt about her sister-Slayer. “I just kinda wanted to run to something, and uh, I realized that that something was you.”  Faith fidgeted nervously.  “You really gotta stop me cause I seem to be channeling Willow right now.” She took a deep breath and glanced sideways at the blonde. “So what do ya think?” 

Buffy chewed on her bottom lip, allowing the taller woman’s anxious ramble to sink in.

“Did I just freak you out?” the brunette worried aloud.

Finally, before the dark slayer had the opportunity to take back her revealing words, the Chosen One smiled warmly and shifted her naked form until it molded against the dark slayer’s body. “No.  Not freaked out at all,” she admitted.  She playfully nibbled along the edge of Faith’s ear.  “I was just hoping we could play catch-up a little later though.”

The Boston girl enveloped the lithe slayer in her arms.  “Well, like I already told you, I’m not planning on runnin’ anymore.  So I’m pretty sure we can take our time.”   Faith licked along the gentle curve of the blonde’s shoulder, and up her neck.

The blonde felt her heartbeat quicken and her throat tighten as Faith continued her gentle, yet persistent caresses.   She had once warned the Boston girl that she wouldn’t wait for her, but even as the harsh words had spilled out of her mouth, the Chosen One knew they were lies. 

She would wait for Faith.  She would wait as long as it took.

Because even though she might not be ready to say the words yet, Buffy knew that she loved Faith as well.

+++++++++++++

FIN