Date Night (10 page)

Willow stood awkwardly with her giant wine glass, having been abandoned by her girlfriend for beer. “So, uh,” the witch began. “How are things out East?”

Faith shrugged and cast her eyes around the swelling groups of people crowded in the back kitchen, looking for a certain blonde. “Cold. Lots of demons. Both real and imagined.”

The witch smiled and nodded. She cast her eyes around the room, suddenly unsure of herself in the presence of the formerly rogue slayer.

Dawn suddenly appeared again at Faith's side. “Oh! And here's Buffy's boyfriend, Preston,” the teen announced, abruptly pulling the brunette slayer away from the socially awkward Wicca.

A man in his late twenties or early thirties stood in front of the Boston girl. He wore flat-front khakis and a dark, green polo shirt. His shoulders were broad, but no more than the usual Beefsticks the blonde slayer had a penchant for. His dark hair was cropped close to the sides of his head, with the bangs flipped up in the front. At least the collar of his shirt wasn't popped, but it might as well have been.

He looked like an investment banker. Or a douche bag.

The man flashed the two brunette women a perfectly white smile. “Not boyfriend,” he corrected Dawn. “
Fiancé
now.”

The teen rolled her eyes. “Yeah, yeah…
fiancé
,” she muttered, emphasizing the last word dramatically. “Anyway,” she continued with an exasperated sigh, “this is Buffy's and my friend, Faith,” she said as an introduction. “She lives in Boston so that's why she says words like `wicked' and when she's drunk her `A's come out funny just like in
Good Will Hunting.
”

Faith felt Preston's eyes slowly roam over her figure. The beautiful slayer was used to men's eyes on her, but something about Buffy's boyfriend's gaze made her feel uncomfortable. It wasn't that he was checking her out - it was as though he were mentally judging her.

She immediately regretted wearing leather pants and her near-sheer top to the event. Everyone else at the party was so…grown-up. She felt more working class than usual in the company of this suburbanite crowd.

“So how do you and Buffy know each other?” Preston asked, taking a quick sip from his carbonated well drink.

The Boston girl opened her mouth, but was quickly interrupted by Willow's frantic voice: “They used to work together in Sunnydale,” she blurted out, busting into their introductory conversation. “You know…in the counseling business.”

Faith couldn't help but snort. Apparently Buffy liked this vapid dude enough to marry him, but didn't trust him enough to reveal her slayer lifestyle. She silently wondered what else Preston didn't know about his perfect Bride-to-Be.

“Yeah…we worked together in the D,” the brunette agreed with a lazy nod.

Preston looked mildly interested. “So are you a high school counselor, too?” he asked. “Or do you do something different in the field?”

The Boston girl couldn't help herself. If Buffy and Preston's whole relationship was built on a lie, what harm would one more little fib do?

“Actually, I quit the business once I moved back to Boston,” she admitted with a casual shrug. “The pay just wasn't that good, so I went back to what I'd done before my life in California. I'm a stripper now.”

The dark-haired man nearly choked on his mixed drink. “Is that so?”

Faith deliberately ran the tip of her tongue along her full bottom lip and eyeballed the taller man. “Uh huh,” she purred lasciviously. “So if you're in the need for some Bachelor Party entertainment, just look me up.”

Preston made an uncomfortable noise in the back of his throat. “I, uh, haven't started to think about that part of the planning yet,” he choked out, “but I'll, uh, keep that in mind.”

The host quickly excused himself to go mingle with the other guests, and Faith winced when she felt a sharp elbow jab into her side.

“Stripper? Really?” came a laughing voice near her side.

Faith turned to see the mocking disbelief on Dawn's face. The brunette slayer grinned at Buffy's younger sister. “Aww, don't bust my chops, D,” she announced. “I was just havin' some fun with the guy.”

“He's a bit of a snore, isn't he?” Dawn said, looking after her sister's fiancé. “But I suppose it's no surprise that Buffy would go for someone so boring since all her other relationships have ended so badly.”

Faith choked back any disparaging remarks and instead rubbed at her ribs. “Dang girl,” she complained with a smile, “you've got some sharp elbows.”

The teen girl nodded crisply. “And don't you forget it.” She swung the aforementioned weapons in the air. “These things can do some serious damage,” she added with a laugh.

The Boston girl stood slightly on her toes and scanned the crowd. “Where the hell did Kennedy go?” she wondered out loud. “Is she
making
the beer or something?”

The Former Key looked down into her red plastic cup. “I seem to be empty, too,” she mumbled unhappily.

Faith snorted. “Don't tell me B's lettin' you drink alcohol tonight?” she asked in disbelief.

Dawn flushed slightly. “She's not, uh, exactly
letting
me drink,” she noted. “She's just too busy with the party to realize it.” The teenager's bottom lip popped out in a Buffy-like pout. “Don't tell, okay?”

The brunette slayer made a motion like she was locking up her lips with an imaginary key. “Our little secret, Squirt,” Faith nodded. “Just don't overdo it and get sick.”

When Dawn walked away to refill her red plastic cup, Faith scanned the group of people yet again. The crowd was a mix of slayers whose faces she vaguely remembered from fighting the First. Most of the partygoers were strangers to her, however. But she wasn't here to mingle and make new friends. She needed to find Buffy. It was her whole reason for coming to Cleveland, after all. She wasn't going to stand idle while Buffy married a man who didn't deserve her.

Faith finally spotted the slender blonde standing alone, picking at the food table. The brunette girl wiggled her way toward the Chosen One until she was standing directly behind her, undetected.

The Boston girl couldn't help the wide grin that spread across her face. Even from this distance, and among all the other strange smells in the house, she could distinctly detect the sweet scent of Buffy's fragrant shampoo and lotions.

Buffy bent at the waist unexpectedly for an out-of-reach cherry tomato and her backside bumped into Faith's front. The blonde exclaimed a hasty apology and quickly turned on her heels. Her words fell silent, however, when she realized who she had rubbed against.

Faith smirked at the startled expression on the smaller slayer's face. “Don't worry about it, B,” she breezed. Her voice dropped low. “You know I don't mind your ass pressin' up on me.”

Buffy's lips pressed together. “Why are you here?” she asked bluntly.

The Boston girl took a step backwards and feigned injury. “That hurts, Princess. After all we've been through together, don't you
want
me here for your big day?”

The elder woman's fists balled at her sides. “Don't play with me, Faith,” Buffy whispered harshly. “I can't believe you came all this way just to play games.”

“And I can't believe
you
,” Faith hissed lowly, becoming angry herself. “After…after everything that's happened between us…and you're still going to marry that jackweed?”

“Jackweed?” the elder slayer mocked with raised eyebrows. “Are you suddenly five years old now?”

The dark-haired girl licked her full bottom lip and took a subtle step towards the small blonde. “You weren't complaining about my vocabulary the other night on the phone, B. Although I know you prefer it when I'm moaning and groaning.”

Buffy felt her face flush red. She glanced around quickly to ascertain if anyone noticed the brunette woman's restrained outburst. “This isn't the place for this,” she muttered in a low tone for only Faith to hear. She grabbed her sister-Slayer by the elbow.

The Boston girl allowed the shorter slayer to lead her out the back kitchen door and onto the back porch. It was a chilly Cleveland night and none of the party's guests were gathered in the fenced-in backyard.

When she was sure that they were alone and that they wouldn't be overheard, Buffy let go of the younger girl. She turned on her heels to stare at the taller slayer. “So tell me,” she demanded, her hands on her hips. “What are you really doing here?”

The muscles in Faith's jaw twitched as she clenched her back teeth. “Why are you going through with this? Why are you marrying that guy?”

Buffy narrowed her eyes at her sister-Slayer. “Because he's a sure thing.”

“A sure thing? What's that supposed to mean?” the dark-haired woman demanded. “Has he been a `sure' thing every time he's fucked up your date nights and you come crawling to me for attention?”

Faith inwardly cringed at her words. She didn't want to be verbally attacking Buffy like this. She didn't want to see her so hurt. But her natural reaction was to lash back at the girl who could so easily, and seemingly effortlessly, disregard all that had developed between them in the past few months to marry some jerk.

“I don't come
crawling
to you,” the blonde snapped angrily. “You just happen to always be there.”

“Well I haven't had any complaints from you yet,” the dark-haired girl seethed, suddenly angry.

“Give me one good reason why I shouldn't marry Preston,” Buffy retorted. “Can
you
promise me a future, Faith?” she challenged. “Can you promise me
anything
?”

“Y
ou
can't even promise yourself a future, Princess,” the Boston slayer pointed out. “Don't forget that the expiration date on your forehead is just as big as mine.”

Buffy shook her head animatedly. “It doesn't have to be like that for us anymore. You know that,” she protested. “With all these other slayers Called, we don't have to constantly put ourselves and the people we love in danger.”

“Keep tellin' yourself that, cutie,” Faith leered. “But you know as well as I do that there's no retiring from this job. You can't lay in bed at night without that deep down tickle -

that itch that can only be scratched by shoving a piece of pointed wood through some dead thing's chest.”

“So it's not the perfect situation,” Buffy snapped defensively. “I know that. But it's the best I can do. It's the best I can hope for.”

Faith threw her hands up in the air in disgust and frustration. “Are you
so
fixated on being a `Normal Girl' that you're willing to throw your life away and marry a man you don't even love?”

Buffy bristled at the Bostonian's harsh words. “You don't know that,” she cried. “You don't know how I feel about Preston.”

“Maybe not,” the dark-haired woman admitted. “But I know how you feel about
me
.”

The Californian's hazel-green eyes flashed with defiance. “Oh really? And what's that? Repulsion? Pity? Scorn?”

“No,” Faith growled, her deep voice thick and sticking on the syllables. “You might think you hate me, Buffy. But that's only because you hate
what we are
.”

The girl clutched onto Buffy's hand and placed it against her breastplate, over her heart. “You've always hated this Calling…our Duty,” she seethed darkly. “And you hate me because instead of whining about being Chosen, I
thrive
.” Faith shook her head bitterly. “No…you don't hate me, B. I know that.” Her eyes flashed as she glowered at the shorter woman. “You love me like you love the air you breathe.”

The Californian's breath hitched in her throat. The combination of Faith's closeness, her words, and the heat radiating from her chest was making her head spin. “And what suddenly makes you the expert on my emotions?” she stubbornly huffed.

“Because,” Faith smirked, “I love you, too.”

Buffy felt her knees give out as she watched the Boston girl take a step toward her. She knew what Faith wanted. Because she wanted it herself.

The California-born slayer closed her eyes tightly when she felt Faith's warm hands touch her sides. A wave of arousal flooded her body, and she took a deep breath to calm down. It shouldn't be like this. Faith shouldn't be able to make her body react like this when her brain reminded her that they were at her
engagement
party.

Buffy sighed quietly when she felt the confident, yet gentle touch of Faith's hand against the side of her face.

“No, Fai,” she murmured unconvincingly. “We can't.”

Undeterred, the Boston girl's hand lightly brushed against the elder slayer's cheek, the tips of her fingers gliding against her corn-silk soft hair. She ran her fingers gently through Buffy's fine locks, slightly massaging her scalp.

“How come you always smell so good?” Faith murmured, her eyes fixed on the blonde's delicate features. “It's intoxicating. How anyone can focus when you're around is beyond me.”

“I…I shower regularly?” Buffy responded weakly.

Faith murmured her approval. “Now that's something I'd like to do.”

The Californian couldn't help the sigh that escaped her lips when Faith brushed her lips against the top of her ear. “What…what's that?” she stammered, her body shaking.

“Take a shower with you,” the brunette replied, her voice a low burr in the Chosen One's ear.

Buffy swallowed hard when Faith sucked her earlobe into her mouth and began softly chewing on it. The smaller slayer could hear her blood pulsing inside her head.

“Would you like that, B?” the Boston girl asked as she nipped along the blonde's jaw line. Her voice was impossibly low. “Would you like to get wet and naked with me? I bet you've got a killer shower in this fancy house of yours.”

Faith moved her mouth from the blonde's delicate jawbone down to her neck. She licked in the hollow of Buffy's throat and began to gently suck at the Californian's pressure point. No matter how many times Faith touched her like this, the golden slayer always marveled at the sensations. This wasn't the calloused fumbling of a man - Faith
knew
how to touch her.

“God, Fai,” the Chosen One sighed, closing her eyes. “You make me feel so good.”

The sound of a soft gasp of surprise caused Buffy to abruptly pulled away from the taller slayer. Her hazel-green eyes flicked in the direction of the noise, and her stomach dropped when she saw her redheaded best friend standing on the back porch.