“What do you think?” Faith asks her best friend Xander, glancing around the semi-crowded arcade for her next target. “See anyone?”

It’s Saturday, and raining, so the arcade is busier than usual. There are plenty of opportunities for Faith and Xander to do their thing, which roughly translates to obtaining arcade tokens without having to pay for them since they can’t afford to. Their primary methods are finding ones that kids accidentally left behind or dropped on the floor, but they’re not above swiping a couple or, Faith’s personal favorite, winning more in a bet.

The ones they steal are the easiest but they try to keep those to a minimum. Not because they think stealing is wrong, but because if they get caught, the owners will ban them from the arcade, which would suck. They try to avoid being home as much as possible, and an arcade is pretty much the only place they have left to go. They can’t get kicked out for loitering, it’s open late, and on the days they actually have money to spend, they can stretch a couple bucks the farthest here.

Sometimes Faith feels restless and bored coming here all the time, and she thinks there’d be more to do elsewhere. More trouble to get into, more fun to be had. Plus, they’re both getting a little too old to hang out in an arcade. But on a rainy Saturday, she’s grateful to have somewhere indoors to go, even if it’s not cool to be here with a bunch of ten year olds. She and Xander had to walk here and, while most of Faith’s clothes have progressed from completely soaked to uncomfortably damp, her shoes are another story, being full of water and squelching with every step she takes. One of the employees gave Faith a dirty look earlier because of the puddle she’d left behind on the carpet. She made sure to smile and flip him off in return. The employees can’t kick her out for tracking in a little rainwater.

“What about her?” Xander asks, drawing Faith out of her own thoughts. Faith looks where he’s pointing, seeing a girl standing with her back to them, facing the claw machine. She looks about their age, with blonde hair curled against her back, a blue patterned tank top over jeans, holding one of those paper cups of tokens. From the looks of things, she’s got at least ten tokens left, not that Faith needs that many. She normally only bets a kid five max. And today, she’s only got three so far (and they’re technically Xander’s).

“She’s perfect,” Faith says. She’s never seen this girl here before, and if she’s also twelve or thirteen years old and still likes stuffed animals, of all things, she’s exactly what Faith is looking for. New and childish means she’s most likely gullible. Easy to manipulate out of a couple tokens. “I’ll take her.”

Xander nods his approval, “If you need me, I’ll be checking underneath stuff again. Cause, you know, that’s my job. Crawling-around-on-the-floor-guy.”

Faith claps him on the shoulder, “Couldn’t do it without you, Xand,” she says encouragingly, and she means it. Together they make a great team. On a good weekend, they can snag enough free tokens to keep themselves entertained and, as Faith’s social worker likes to say, “out of trouble,” for most of the week.

Out of the two of them, Faith is way better at convincing kids to take her stupid bets. She likes to believe it’s because she’s tough and intimidating. One time Xander told her it’s because she’s a girl and boys— other boys, not Xander, as he was quick to clarify—think girls suck at video games. Either way, it’s really easy for Faith to approach a kid and say, “Bet you five tokens I can beat you in this game,” and then absolutely crush them. They get tokens out of it nearly every time.

Normally Faith targets boys since Xander may actually have a point, but if there’s anyone who Faith can easily beat in a video game, it’s a girl who curls her hair and wears ballet flats to go to an arcade. This’ll be too easy, Faith thinks as she approaches her target from behind, walking around her and then leaning casually against the glass display case of the game. “Claw machine, huh?” She asks.

When the other girl looks up and her green eyes meet Faith’s, Faith swears she feels one of those static zaps zing through her whole body, like when you touch something and it shocks you. Only this girl hasn’t even touched her. Faith wonders if she holds the other girl’s hand, would the static shock happen for real? She shoves her hands in her pockets instead.

“I guess so,” the girl says, looking back down at her cup full of tokens disinterestedly. Faith doesn’t know what to say next since her brain seems to be short circuiting, but luckily the blonde makes that decision for her. “Did you want something, or did you just plan to stand there watching me like a weirdo?”

“I want something,” Faith says cooly, like she isn’t talking to the prettiest girl she’s ever met in her life. She’ll happily stand here for hours just to look at this other girl. Even though they’ve only just met, everything about her is fascinating to Faith, from the small silver hoops in her ears to her long eyelashes to the way her eyes are now lingering on Faith, studying her, not quite sure what to make of her.

Faith’s normally pretty confident, but she’s suddenly painfully aware of her own disheveled appearance compared to the way this other girl looks so perfectly put together. And it’s not just that Faith’s clothes are soggy. Her jeans have holes in the knees and they’re a little too big in the waist so she has to wear a belt to keep them from falling down. And her boots are about two sizes too small for her. Faith swipes at her cheeks, wondering if the mascara she stole from her mom’s makeup decided to run in the rain. This other girl has perfectly styled hair and dry clothes that actually fit her and shimmery gloss on her lips. Even the little purse she has slung over her shoulder is color-coordinated with the rest of her outfit.

Faith’s found other girls attractive before, but they don’t usually make her heart feel like it’s being squeezed in her chest, or her stomach feel full of so many butterflies that she feels kind of sick. Faith tucks some frizzy, still drying hair back behind her ears, wishing she looked more, well, not pretty, exactly, but more…something. Less like a mess, at least. Normally she doesn’t give a shit about first impressions. What is this girl doing to her?

“Well, if you want to play this game, you’ll have to wait your turn. I got here first,” the blonde says, going back to stare at the claw machine, studying it the same way she studied Faith. Faith immediately wants to earn her attention back.

“That ain’t what I want.”

The girl sighs dramatically, her eyes flicking back to Faith, “So, what, you just like annoying strangers? Is that, like, your hobby or something?” She purses her lips, like Faith pisses her off.

“I’m Faith,” Faith announces.

The girl looks confused but she offers her name, “Buffy.”

“Now we ain’t strangers,” Faith says, grinning. “Nice to meet ya, B!”

“It’s Buffy,” Buffy corrects her. “And again I ask: do you just like annoying people you just met, F ?”

“Maybe,” Faith says agreeably, still grinning. Faith realizes that she and Xander may have miscalculated based on appearances. Buffy isn’t an easy to manipulate pushover, she’s stubborn and funny and fun. Faith wants to keep talking to her just to see what she’ll say next. Faith isn’t likely to get a single token out of her, but she’s no longer interested in stupid arcade tokens. That’s just a cover, a reason she can claim for choosing to linger in Buffy’s presence. She makes Faith weirdly nervous and sort of… smiley at the same time. 

Buffy snorts, “That’s so lame. What, like you don’t have anything better to do?”

“I think we’re in the same boat here, blondie.” Faith says, gesturing to the arcade around them. “What’s your excuse?”

Buffy points across the room to where two brunettes, maybe around seven or eight years old, are playing another game. They chatter excitedly like they think they just won the lottery when the game spits out a measly four tickets. “That’s my sister Dawn, and her new friend, Janice. We just moved here a couple weeks ago. Hence the ‘new,’” Buffy says by way of explanation. “My parents make me babysit and today Dawn begged to come hang out here and I caved,” Buffy admits with a shrug.

“That’s nice,” Faith admits, because it is. Buffy actually seems like a good older sister.

“It’s not so bad, even though the arcade is totally lame. But I wish I could make new friends as easily as Dawn does,” Buffy adds wistfully, watching as Dawn and Janice move on to the next game, talking and laughing. “Moving sucks.”

Faith thinks about offering to be Buffy’s friend but immediately decides against it. That’s not her style; Faith doesn’t do friendships like that. She’s more about punching people on the arm and sharing food and arcade tokens than doing something so ridiculously girly as talking about being friends. Plus, she and Buffy had a nice arguing-without-actually-arguing thing happening that Faith’s eager to keep going. She can’t make that happen by being nice. “Well, don’t look at me,” she says. “We got nothing in common. You hate arcades. Plus you’re all…sparkly,” she adds, gesturing to the glittery barrette in Buffy’s hair.

“I wasn’t asking you to be my friend,” Buffy says with a glare, obviously having gotten her feelings hurt by Faith’s assessment of her. It does funny things to Faith’s insides that Buffy so obviously cares what Faith thinks of her. “I don’t even like you. Plus, you’re all…soaking wet,” Buffy says, mimicking Faith’s gesture.

So apparently Buffy is judging her for the way she looks right now. Damn. Faith was kinda hoping Buffy was giving her a free pass on account of the rain. “Aw, B, don’t be like that. I was just kidding,” Faith says, trying to backtrack though Buffy continues pointedly ignoring her. Apparently she actually hit a nerve. “It’s nothing personal, it’s just this is strictly business. I ain’t looking to make friends, I’m looking to make a bet. I bet you three tokens—”

“Not interested, sorry,” Buffy interrupts her, not sounding the least bit sorry. Faith frowns and just stands there for a moment, surprised Buffy isn’t even willing to hear her out but not knowing how to save this. When Faith still hasn’t moved, Buffy groans, “Can you please go away? I told you I’m not interested. You told me you don’t wanna be friends. What else could you possibly want from me?”

“Maybe I was lying about the friends thing,” Faith says casually. “Or maybe I just like talking to a pretty girl,” Faith blurts without meaning to.

Buffy’s face flushes adorably, and she ducks her head shyly, but luckily she seems to think Faith’s just feeding her another line to get her to play along, rather than recognizing the sentiment as genuine. “Nice try, but I’m not gonna talk to you just cause you’re pretending to think I’m pretty.”

“I wasn’t pretending,” Faith says immediately. What the hell is happening to me? she thinks. Why am I just saying the first thing to pop into my head? Buffy meets her eyes this time instead of ducking her head, that flush still spread across her cheeks, and Faith thinks pretty isn’t a strong enough word. She suddenly really wants to kiss Buffy, like, right now. Faith decides to bring the conversation back to a safer topic, like bets, before she can say something even stupider than she already has. “Look, if you think you can beat me in a game, you should take my bet. Then you’ll end up with more tokens.” Buffy seems like she’s actually considering it finally so Faith says, “I’ll even let you pick the game. Anything in the whole arcade that isn’t this one and—”

“I wanna play this game,” Buffy interrupts. Then she asks curiously. “Why not this one? Are you scared you’ll lose?”

“No,” Faith says, “it’s ‘cause we need a game that actually keeps score. Otherwise we’ll just end up with a tie.”

“So you are good at this game?” Buffy asks, tapping the claw machine demonstratively.

“Maybe.”

Buffy considers her for half a moment then says, “I think you’re lying.”

Faith shrugs, “Suit yourself.” She is lying. She’s never won the claw game once in her whole life, and long ago stopped trying when she outgrew any interest in stuffed toys. There are better ways to spend her tokens than playing something she can never actually win. But she can’t think of anything better than continuing to talk to Buffy, even if it means saying things that aren’t true that will most likely come back to bite her in the ass.

Buffy decides to try the game herself. After she drops her first token into the slot the machine comes to life, all the lightbulbs that line the outside flashing on and off. Buffy takes a deep breath, settling her hands on the controls, then starts to play. Faith watches, staying respectfully silent so as to not break her concentration. And, with Buffy being otherwise occupied, Faith can study her without getting caught. Buffy’s super cute when she’s focused, Faith finds. She chews on her bottom lip, a little furrow appearing between her eyebrows. She clutches the joystick tightly, her fingernails painted a pale pink.

On her first attempt, Buffy misses any stuffed animal by a mile. She frowns down at her pile of tokens. She’s still got nine left.

“Maybe next time,” Faith says, trying to be encouraging.

“Yeah,” Buffy says determinedly, squaring her shoulders and dropping her next token into the game.

Only she doesn’t get one next time either. As her stack of tokens dwindles, Buffy starts to look more and more disheartened. Faith doesn’t understand why Buffy wants one of these toys so damn badly. She’s pretty sure this game is rigged, and it isn’t even fun to play. It’s just frustrating, and Buffy should give up.

The closest Buffy gets to winning is on her fifth token, when the claw catches the ear of one of the stuffed pigs inside the machine. It lifts it a couple inches before the toy slips out of the claw’s hold, dropping back into the pile. When Buffy has only one token left and still hasn’t won, she considers Faith again. “I’m no good at this thing,” Buffy admits.

“Doubt I’m much better,” Faith says truthfully, because she suddenly feels guilty about lying to Buffy earlier. She doesn’t wanna give her false hope.

Buffy toys with her last token in her palm, “So,” she starts, “wanna bet?” 

“Well, normally I’d bet tokens,” Faith says. “Like, if I can get you a stuffed animal, you owe me three tokens. But—”

“But I don’t have any left,” Buffy supplies. “Just enough for one more try.” She looks longingly through the glass of the stupid game.

Faith sees an opportunity, and just decides to go for it. “Well, maybe we can barter other stuff. Like, if I lose, I’ll owe you some tokens.”

Buffy perks up at that. “You have more?”

“Just a couple. So, I bet I can win you a stuffed animal. And if I can’t, I’ll owe you three tokens,” Faith says, stating the terms of their bet.

“And if you can?” Buffy prompts. “I mean, I don’t have anything that you would want.”

Faith keeps her gaze carefully trained on the claw in the game, pretending to study it like she’s contemplating strategy, “If I win,” she says evenly, “you have to kiss me.”

“Huh?”

“You heard me.”

“But…Why? Is that really what you want from me?” Buffy asks. She sounds so genuinely perplexed that Faith glances over at her in surprise. Buffy’s nose is wrinkled, though Faith thinks it’s more in confusion than disgust. She hopes, at least. Faith would do pretty much anything at this point if she thought it would get Buffy to kiss her.

Faith gives Buffy another onceover, considering her options. There are technically other things she could ask for, but none of Buffy’s jewelry is her style. Plus it’s all kid stuff, so it isn’t like Faith could try to get money for it from the pawn shop. Buffy might have money in her purse but, strangely, Faith finds she doesn’t want cash as badly as she wants a kiss from Buffy. Which is really weird and she refuses to think about what that means. She’s made her decision.

Faith ignores Buffy’s question, “That’s the bet. Take it or leave it, B,” she says, acting like she doesn’t much care about the outcome either way.

Faith glances at the rain outside, still steadily falling, while Buffy considers her options. She’d have to be wicked stupid (or really hate the thought of kissing Faith) not to take the bet. It’s pretty much a win-win either way for Buffy. Either she gets a stuffed animal, or she gets three additional tokens, which means three more chances to win a stuffed animal. The first outcome (meaning she’d lose and have to kiss Faith) is unlikely. Faith doesn’t know why she’s set things up like this, where Buffy is the real winner here. Normally she rigs the bets so Faith wins easily. She’s good at skewing the odds in her favor, at looking out for herself. But apparently pretty girls go to her head and make her do stupid things.

Buffy holds her hand out for Faith, “I’ll take the bet,” she says.

“You’re on,” Faith says.

They shake on it. It’s the first time they’ve touched, and while there isn’t a static shock like Faith anticipated earlier, Faith feels another little zing shoot up her spine at the contact. Buffy locks eyes with her briefly, her mouth opening slightly in surprise, and Faith wonders if she feels it too.

They switch places, their fingers brushing again when Buffy hands over the last token. Faith tries desperately to ignore the sensation. She needs to concentrate. She surveys the inside of the claw machine, trying to decide which stuffed animal is easiest to reach. For whatever reason, they’re all pigs in different colors: pink, red, blue, green, yellow, even a random orange one. Faith wonders why she wants to kiss someone who likes such weird things.

“I want a pink one,” Buffy says, pressing her finger to the glass to point. She leaves behind a fingerprint.

Faith’s about to tell Buffy to stop being so picky and remind her that she’s lucky if she gets anything at all out of this stupid game. And then she sees the way Buffy’s looking at her, with these wide and hopeful eyes, like she views Faith as someone who could potentially be her hero, and the retort dies in her throat. It doesn’t matter that it’s some bullshit arcade game of all things, that it’s childish and silly. Faith wants to be a hero in Buffy’s eyes.

“Okay,” she says instead, though her voice sounds all weird, like she’s still swallowing her other words.

Faith wipes her sweaty palms on her top. She forgot it was still damp and obviously wouldn’t help dry her hands. She wishes Buffy had left her at least two tokens, so Faith could have a practice round to get a feel for the game. It’s been years since she tried one of these things. She studies the toys, deciding which to try for. There’s a pink pig right in the middle of the pile, snout up. Faith sets her sights on that, dropping the coin into the slot. Once the game has completed its startup sequence, she maneuvers the claw into position. When it’s over the pig Buffy wants, Faith pushes the button to drop it.

It misses by a fraction of an inch, scraping the pig’s cheek as it closes, then it lifts and returns to its spot. Empty.

Faith glances at Buffy, who has both hands pressed to the glass, staring longingly at the toys inside. Faith feels like a complete jerk, even though she doesn’t know why. By losing, she now owes Buffy a couple more tokens. A couple more chances. Buffy could still win her stupid pig. She takes the three tokens out of her pocket to hand them over, but Buffy doesn’t move to take them. Buffy actually looks bizarrely like she might cry, which is childish and immature, but Faith realizes she wants to comfort Buffy instead of making fun of her. Only she doesn’t know how.

Faith’s no good with her own emotions, and she’s even worse with the emotions of others. She doesn’t even do emotions with Xander, and he’s her closest friend in the whole world. Sure they cried a lot when they were little over skinned knees and stuff, but they’re not little kids anymore. If one of them cries now, the other normally just sits with them in silence, respectfully pretending not to notice. They say "I’m here for you,” with a quiet, manly show of support, not with actual words. Somehow, Faith doesn’t think that’s gonna work in this situation.

She awkwardly pats Buffy’s shoulder. “Look, why don’t you just go to the store and buy a stuffed animal if you want one so bad,” Faith suggests, trying to offer a solution since she can’t actually fix this. Plus if Buffy’s parents can afford to send her and two other kids to the arcade for a full day, they can buy Buffy a stuffed animal. They’re probably even the kind of parents who want to make Buffy happy.

“Because I want that one,” Buffy says, pointing through the glass at the stuffed pink pig.

“Why?” Faith asks. It doesn’t seem all that great to her.

Buffy fidgets slightly. She glances up at the ceiling, fighting the tears trying to fall, “I lost my favorite stuffed animal, a pig, n the move. I know it’s stupid, but, apparently I can’t sleep without him. So I just thought maybe…” Buffy trails off, gesturing at the toy behind the glass. “This isn’t an exact match, but at least it’s the same animal. My parents bought me a stuffed bear when we got here to try to make up for it, but it’s not the same.”

Faith sighs. She really, really wants to fix this. She wants to be Buffy’s hero so badly. She’s also determinedly choosing to ignore how strong her feelings already are for someone she hasn’t known all that long. “Wait here,” she instructs. “I’ll be back.”

It takes Faith a couple minutes to find Xander. When she does he rubs his hands together eagerly, saying excitedly, “Hey! How many tokens did you win off that girl?”

“None,” Faith says bluntly, neglecting to mention the part where now she actually owes all the ones she had to Buffy.

Xander frowns at her, “You didn’t get any? But y’all were talking for, like, ever.”

“I know,” Faith admits. “Look, I need to borrow some tokens.”

“You don’t have any to pay me back with.”

“Then I’ll owe you.”

“You already owe me,” Xander stresses.

“Come on, Xand, please?” Faith begs. She glances past his head to where Buffy is still standing, waiting on her. “This is important.”

Xander looks between Faith and Buffy, trying to puzzle it out. “This is about her?”

Faith just shrugs.

“What makes this important?”

“Long story,” Faith says.

“Not good enough,” Xander says. “These are my hard-earned tokens. Tell me why we’re giving them away.”

“She’s having a bad day,” Faith says, kicking absentmindedly at a stain on the carpet. “I just wanna make it better.” 

“Okay, but…” Suddenly, Xander’s eyes widen in realization. “You like her.”

“I do not!” Faith hisses, ignoring the embarrassed flush creeping up her neck. She’s pissed that Xander knows her so well and can immediately tell when she has a crush. 

“You do!” Xander says, delighted. “You like her!” 

“Don’t make me hit you,” Faith threatens, half-serious, since denying it isn’t getting her anywhere. 

Xander holds up his hands in mock-surrender. “Okay, okay. No need to get all threateny and violent. Especially since we both know you hit harder than I do.” 

“Yeah, I do.” 

“What’s her name?” Xander asks. “Does she like you too?” 

“Buffy and I’m not sure yet,” Faith answers. “Probably not.” 

“Faith,” he says, very seriously, hands on her shoulders so she can’t look away from a hefty dose of Xander honesty, “why wouldn’t she like you? I mean, what’s not to like?” 

Before Xander can start talking about how he thinks Faith is the coolest, Faith says, “Questions later, tokens now? She’s waiting on me.” 

Xander starts digging in his pockets, “I only got three. So you owe me six,” he informs her as if she didn’t already know that, handing them over. “Now, remember, don’t threaten Buffy or it won’t go well. Be nice and give her lots of compliments.” 

“I know how to—”

Xander turns her then gives her a push in Buffy’s direction, “Stop wasting time with me and go get your girl already.” 

“Thanks,” Faith says, grateful for the tokens. “And shut up,” she adds, socking him lightly on the arm before hurrying back to Buffy, ignoring Xander’s exaggerated ow! She’s hit him harder than that before when they were just messing around. 

When Faith approaches Buffy, she starts to feel those little static tinglies in the atmosphere around them again “Okay,” Faith says when she reaches Buffy. “So, here’s the three I owe you,” Faith says, putting the tokens in Buffy’s outstretched palm. 

“Thanks,” Buffy says. She looks less teary now, though still unhappy. 

“And I got some more tokens so I’m gonna play again,” Faith tells Buffy, lightly hip checking her out of the way. Buffy moves aside without complaint. “But, all bets are off this time,” Faith admits. As much as she wants to earn a kiss from Buffy, she doesn’t have three more tokens to wager. Faith thinks earning her happiness will be worth it. 

“Okay,” Buffy says. 

Faith sets up the same as before, though she remembers not to wipe her hands on her damp shirt this time. She’s grateful that Buffy is standing behind her so Faith can’t get distracted by her (as long as she doesn’t look up and see Buffy’s reflection in the glass). Taking a deep breath, she concentrates on the same pig she nearly had earlier, and drops a token into the machine. 

She takes her time lining up the claw, tuning out the loud noises and flashing lights and the clock counting downward much too quickly. Faith thinks she’s got the positioning right, but there’s no time to walk around the machine and check from other angles. She hits the button and hopes for the best. The claw drops quickly, right on the pig. 

“Come on, come on,” Faith mutters under her breath. 

The claw closes then lifts, bringing the pig with it. Each of the prongs is wrapped around the toy, digging into the pig’s belly. Faith hardly dares to breathe as the claw holds the pig suspended in the air without dropping it. Behind her, she hears Buffy make a surprised inhale and then apparently forget to exhale. The claw returns to the corner with agonizing slowness. When it finally clicks into place, it opens, releasing the pig over the prize drop. 

“Holy shit,” Faith says, hardly believing her eyes when it falls straight in. 

When Faith produces the pink stuffed pig from the machine and turns around to hand it to Buffy, Buffy squeals. “Thank you, thank you!” She says, practically jumping up and down with excitement. She takes the pig, hugging it to her chest. 

“You’re welcome,” Faith says, scratching the back of her head and feeling bashful for some reason, though she can’t help but smile too.

She’s completely caught off guard when Buffy pulls Faith into a one-armed hug, squeezing her as tightly as possible, the pig trapped between them. “Thank you,” Buffy says again, this time right next to Faith’s ear, and softer. Without all the squealing and screaming. 

“You’re welcome,” Faith repeats.

She’s so stunned by Buffy wanting to hug her, soggy clothes and all, that Faith forgets to return the hug at first. When she finally realizes she’s just standing there, she brings her arms up and wraps them around Buffy. Faith’s stuck somewhere between feeling totally awkward and never wanting this to end. Buffy smells sweet, like cotton candy, Faith thinks, and her hair feels soft where it brushes Faith’s cheek. Over Buffy’s shoulder, Faith sees Xander. He’s giving her two really big thumbs up. Faith rolls her eyes at him. 

When Buffy pulls back, ending the hug, they lock eyes for a moment. Then, so quickly Faith hardly gets a chance to register that it’s about to happen, Buffy goes up on her toes and kisses Faith on the cheek. Faith can’t help the wide grin that takes over her face, or the way she blushes bright red. Buffy smiles back at her shyly, green eyes sparkling, a beautifully rosy flush spread across her cheeks. Her hand catches Faith’s as they separate, and now they’re holding hands. 

Buffy’s hand in hers and the way she’s looking at Faith are both making Faith’s heart beat ridiculously fast, like she just raced Xander around the neighborhood. Only, this feels even better than winning a stupid race. This feels even better than winning a stupid arcade prize. It’s like an entirely different kind of win. Buffy’s still using her other arm to clutch that stuffed pig to her chest like it’s the most precious thing ever, but she can’t seem to take her eyes off Faith’s. 

“Buffy, we’re ready to leave now!” Comes a voice at Faith’s elbow. They’re being interrupted by Buffy’s little sister Dawn, and her friend Janice. Faith’s not sure whether she’s thankful for the interruption, because she didn’t know what to say to Buffy next, or pissed about it, because they were having a moment. 

“What’s that?” Janice asks curiously, pointing at the pig in Buffy’s arm. Buffy releases Faith’s hand so she can show off her new prize, holding it out in front of her, and Faith immediately mourns the loss of contact, wishing Buffy was still touching her. 

Dawn gasps, reaching for the toy, “It’s another Mr. Gordo! How did you get him?” 

“Faith won him for me,” Buffy says, letting Dawn pat the stuffed toy on the head, but refusing to loosen her grip and let Dawn hold him. Faith’s chest goes squeezy tight again at the thought of Buffy not wanting to let go of something Faith gave her, even for a second. 

Two sets of eyes, one blue and one brown, turn to inspect Faith then, as if they’ve only just noticed she’s there. “Uh, hey,” Faith says awkwardly. She’s not great with kids (unless she’s tricking them out of tokens). 

“Can you win me one, too?” Dawn asks, pulling on Faith’s arm. 

“Me too! Me too!” Janice says, joining in on the other side. Buffy gives her a look that says see what I have to put up with? 

Faith would try, but she doesn’t have any more tokens. She’s negative four tokens, in fact, from all the ones she now owes Xander. Worth it, Faith thinks to herself, smiling at the memory of Buffy kissing her on the cheek. “Maybe next time,” she promises them, resisting the urge to fling the kids off. They’re really clingy. Luckily, they release her then. Dawn and Janice lose interest in Faith and Buffy, wandering toward the prize counter with their tickets. “That is, if there’s gonna be a next time?” Faith asks, meeting Buffy’s eyes again. 

“Well, I guess we can come back next weekend. If Dawn wants to,” Buffy says coyly, though her smile gives her away. “Though I bet you can’t win both Dawn and Janice stuffed animals.” 

“Oh yeah?” Faith asks, raising an eyebrow. She loves a challenge. “I bet you I can. And when I do, you’re gonna have to kiss me, Buffy.” 

“As if,” Buffy says, with a ridiculous level of sass. “I’ll have more tokens next week. We can play for those.” 

“So you’re saying you don’t wanna kiss me?” 

“I don’t,” Buffy says firmly. 

“I think you’re lying.” 

“You’re insane,” Buffy says with a huff. 

“You almost kissed me earlier,” Faith points out. 

“Did not.” 

“Oh yeah? What was this all about then?” Faith asks, tapping her own cheek for emphasis. 

Buffy flushes. “That was a thank you,” she mutters. “And obviously a bad choice because it went straight to your head. Anyone ever tell you that you’re really annoying?” 

“Sure,” Faith says with a shrug. “All the time.” This line of questioning is getting them nowhere. Time to try something different. Faith raises an eyebrow, “You scared I’m gonna win, B?” 

Buffy rolls her eyes, “In your dreams, Faith.”

“If you ain’t scared, why are you trying to change the terms of our bet?” Faith challenges. 

“I’m–I’m not scared, I’m–well, you see, the thing is—” Buffy sputters. 

“Afraid you’re gonna kiss me and like it?” 

“No,” Buffy says with deathly seriousness. 

“Chicken.” 

“I am not!” 

“Coward.” 

“Would you—”

“Wimp.” 

“Fine,” Buffy says, eyes flashing because Faith pisses her off, just enough to make her angry, but not enough to make her walk away. Faith loves it. “If you can win both Dawn and Janice a stuffed animal from the claw machine next Saturday—which is never gonna happen, by the way—then I will kiss you. But only because I’m not scared.” Buffy holds out her hand.

“You’re on,” Faith says, putting her hand in Buffy’s. This time, one of them actually shocks the other. Zap. Buffy giggles in surprise.

They shake on it.