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A Way To Let You In by OldEmeraldEye
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“Okay, does this say 'sorry I kind of ruined your life' to you?"

The sales assistant looks up from the magazine that has ffar too many ads to be as interesting as he's trying to make it seem.

And does a double take.

“What exactly did you do?"

“I just said -"

“Sure, but most guys just give chocolates."

“...Do I look like a guy?”

Not that she's into dresses, but come on, really? What about her hair - freshly and extensively washed just this morning, thanks to the nest of demons she got the cash for shopping from -  is failing to send the good old gimme-chocolate vibe?

He gives her another look, this one just for the hell of it.

Faith doesn't punch him. She needs him.

And the whole good girl thing. She isn't supposed to be hitting people unless the deserve it.

Once he's fished his eyeballs out her cleavage and managed to string a sentence together, she starts reconsidering. There's sneaking a peak, and there's filming a hypothetical porno, and Mr. Young Farmer's Digest has been rolling out the floodlights. Metaphorically.

“Figured you were shopping for your brother."

“Only child.”

Why is she still talking to him? Because she's shopping. And she needs him. To shop. Suck it up, Fai-bay.

He's way to interested in that.

“You mean nobody'll beat me up if I asked you out?"

Hmm, let's see, how about -

I might.”

And damn if he doesn't still look interested. Scared, but definitely interested. Being hot is such a curse.

“Yes or no?"

“Yes. Totally yes.”

Ugh.

“The clothes, dumb-ass.”

 

The teller was more agreeable, considering she was taking her money.

“Plain packaging, alright?"

"This a surprise then?"

"She kinda said she'd kill me if I said sorry."

"Girl, you crazy."

Crazy psycho bitch.

"That's what they keep telling me."

"Now y'all have fun, y'hear me?"

 

~~$$$~~

 

 “Dawn?"

“Yeah?"

“Do you know who'd get me these?"

“Nope, but I'll take them if you don't want them."

“Hands off!"

“But Buffy -"

“Mine."

“Fine. Whatever. You need the height anyway."

“Hey! I'm not that short!"

“Mmhhm. Want to try some of my -"

“Nope."

“Spoilsport."

She leaves in a huff. Buffy huffs as she leaves.

“I am not short."

But these, now, these … who doesn't like cowgirl boots? Real leather and everything. Not even demon leather.

“Come to mommy, precioussss …"

Chapter end notes:

So, Faith may have bought Buffy the shoe equivalent of the One Ring(TM). But she was trying, okay?

 


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