Date Night (6 page)

The two slayers continued to softly embrace on top of the hotel room comforter. The way Buffy's hipbones were digging into Faith's body was driving her crazy. The Boston woman's hands went to Buffy's leather belt and she pulled up on it, making the jean denim rub deliciously against the Californian's rapidly overheating sex.

“Too many clothes,” the brunette mumbled against the smaller slayer's open, wanting mouth.

Faith, dressed only in her short cotton boxers, reached for the bottom hem of Buffy's v-neck t-shirt. She sucked in a deep breath as she removed it from the blonde's torso, afraid that this would be the moment that the Californian rejected her. But instead, Buffy arched her back slightly off the bed, helping Faith strip her from the waist up.

“Damn, girlfriend,” Faith breathed, unabashedly staring at the svelte slayer's small, but proportionate breasts. In her rush to change from pajamas to semi-suitable clothing, the blonde hadn't bothered to put her bra back on from earlier.

The brunette felt entranced. Her hands unhesitatingly went to the smaller slayer's waist and she unfastened the top button of Buffy's jeans and pulled the front zipper down. Once again, the blonde woman aided the younger slayer in her task, lifting her hips and backside off the mattress as the Bostonian pulled her jeans down her legs and removed them entirely. Faith had only to pull down her own shorts and she and Buffy would be naked. Together.

“Wait,” Buffy said, the first words she'd spoken since the two had kissed. Faith's hands faltered at her own waistband. Her breath caught in her throat.
This was the moment,
she realized,
where Buffy would run
away.

The blonde sat up in bed. “C-Can I do it?” she asked in a wavering voice.

The Boston woman stood dumbstruck for a few seconds, but then her hands fell away from her shorts, and she nodded wordlessly.

Faith shivered when the golden-haired girl first laid her hands on her naked waistline. Buffy hooked her fingers beneath the elastic and carefully pulled the remainder of the brunette slayer's clothes off of her body.

The Californian gave her sister-Slayer a half-smile and scooted back on the bed until her head hit the fluffy down pillows. Although she was completely naked, Buffy felt powerful. And from the look on the brunette's face, she knew Faith approved. Buffy had always been proud of her body. Slaying and training obviously kept her in top shape; partnered with a high metabolism and strict diet, she looked better than she had even in college. It wasn't vanity or pride, however - she was just a girl who felt compelled by the women on the cover of fashion magazines, just like other girls.

Faith ran her uncalloused fingers along the Californian's lotion-smooth skin, and slowly stroked along her sister-Slayer's lithe figure. She took her time, mesmerized by the fact that this was Buffy - Buffy Summers - mewling beneath her touch. Buffy's body felt soft, yet firm, her overheating skin burning the tips of the Boston slayer's fingers.

“Your hands,” Buffy gasped, arching into the brunette's careful touch. “God, that feels good.”

Faith dipped her head to capture a supple breast with her mouth. The brunette took a spongy nipple between her teeth and lightly bit down, her front teeth scraping against the sensitive flesh.

Buffy made an unrecognizable sound and her fingers tangled into Faith's chaotic hair. Faith couldn't help the growl that escaped the back of her throat when the Californian wound her digits tight in her tresses, pulling at her scalp and roots. The Bostonian released Buffy's breast and instead focused on her jutting clavicle. She licked hard along the defined collarbone and sucked the thin skin into her mouth in a way that ensured love bites.

A thin sheen of sweat lubricated the areas where the two slayers' bodies came into contact. Faith positioned her right knee between her sister-Slayer's bronzed thighs and pressed up into her naked sex. Buffy groaned and clung to the younger woman's thinly-muscled shoulders as Faith ground into her. The Californian's moaning became louder with each movement and her breath came quicker; Faith was loath to pull away, but there was something she wanted to try with the blonde.

“Hold up, B,” the brunette slayer said, slightly breathless.

Buffy gave her partner a pained and confused expression, unsure why the Boston slayer was urging her to pause.

“I've got something you might enjoy,” the brunette explained. Faith pulled herself out of bed, and scampered over to her canvas tote bag. She fished around for a few moments, looking for something inside while Buffy admired the nakedness of her slaying partner's body.

“Bingo,” the dark slayer cheered, pulling a small, silver bullet out of her belongings.

Buffy's features scrunched together. “What's that?”

Faith pressed a hidden button. It made an audible clicking noise and the silver contraption came to life.

“Why do you have a v-vibrator in your bag?” the blonde stumbled on the word.

Faith grinned boldly. “Never leave home without it,” she declared, plopping back down on the bed. “Never know if you might need it.”

The Chosen One sat up straighter in bed, resting her weight on her elbows. “You're like a Boy Scout,” she quipped, “always prepared.”

The Boston woman smirked. “It might have slipped your keen observation skills, B, but I sure as hell
ain't
a boy.” She wiggled her eyebrows. “But I'm pretty good at tying knots if you're into that kinda thing.”

An image of herself naked and tied to the headboard with the dangerously sexy brunette hovering above her flashed through Buffy's mind. The blonde swallowed hard. She'd have to save that visual for some cold, lonely night in Cleveland.

The dark-haired woman positioned herself closer to Buffy. She ran the thrumming vibrator along the blonde's naked flesh, bringing goosebumps to the surface of her skin. Just as her fingers had previously explored, she now maneuvered the vibrating toy up and down Buffy's limbs. Faith used the silver gadget to trace delicate lines along the smaller slayer's taunt stomach, dipping it into her belly button. She ran it up to the Chosen One's naked breasts and circled the tip of the toy around Buffy's puffy pink nipples, causing the elder girl to suck in a quick breath.

The Boston girl slid the vibrator back down the blonde's flat abdomen. She moved it further south, dragging it slowly and deliberately along the last few inches of flesh. The brunette looked up. Buffy's eyes were riveted on the bullet-shaped vibrator.

Faith pushed forward, splitting the blonde's pussy lips. She rested the pulsating cylinder to one side of Buffy's clit. The Californian's hazel-green eyes flipped wide open. “Oh my God!” the elder slayer gasped as the first tremors shook through her nerve endings.

The brunette smirked, not unkindly. “Yup. I knew you'd like that.”

Although the small toy was barely larger than a tube of lipstick, Buffy could feel the steady hum all the way up to her teeth. “Holy shit,” she swore, her teeth nearly chattering.

“You can say that again,” the Boston girl murmured. “And we're just getting started...”

Buffy stared hard. “What's so hard to understand?”

“We made
plans
, Buffy,” her boyfriend reminded her. “You
knew
this was important to me!”

“And I told you
I'm sorry
,” the blonde vented. “How was I supposed to know there would be an emergency tonight?”

“Jesus Christ!” Preston threw his hands up in disgust. “An emergency on
Christmas Eve
? What kind of operation are they running at that school? You need to get your priories straight,” he said in an annoyed tone. “Family should come before work.”

Buffy bit her tongue. It would have been so much easier if she had told her boyfriend about being a slayer much earlier in their relationship. Now, the longer she put it off, the more the lies just kept piling up on each other.

“I had to work,” she stated evenly. “They needed me.” Well, at least
that
wasn't a lie.

It was Christmas Eve in Cleveland. Preston and Buffy had made plans to go to Midnight Mass with his family. Buffy wasn't overly religious, but Preston had impressed upon her that this was a family tradition. He had assumed she was devout herself - after all, didn't she always wear a silver chain and cross around her neck?

Buffy had agreed to the plan even though she knew there was always the small chance that something would pop up that needed her to kill it. She had had every intension of going out tonight with Preston and his family. She'd fixed her hair and make-up; she'd even bought a new dress for the occasion - not that she needed an excuse to go shopping.

But just as she was about to leave her house to meet up with Preston and his parents for a late dinner before church that night, the phone had rung. She could have let it go to voicemail, but she answered it instead.
Mistake #1.

It was Vi. Apparently a gang of vampires was picking off Christmas carolers and other passers-by in a residential area not far from Buffy's home. She and Rona could handle the group, but having Buffy there would help make the slaying go more quickly and efficiently. Buffy had looked at the clock and reasoned she could skip dinner and still make it to Mass.
Mistake #2.

The vamps had scattered as soon as they saw the three slayers and Buffy, Rona, and Vi had spent the rest of the night tracking them down. By the time Buffy returned home, her hair and make-up were in disarray and her voice machine was filled with angry messages from her boyfriend.

Buffy had taken the phone off the hook and changed into her pajamas. After a long night, the last thing she wanted was to hear Preston's insults on the answering machine. He'd surprised her, however, by showing up at her front door. And unfortunately for the blonde, there was no way to avoid that.

Preston stamped angrily to the door. The two had been arguing for the better part of half an hour, neither willing to budge or apologize.

“Where are you going?” the California native demanded.

The tall man yanked at the door handle and abruptly opened the door. “I'm going to my parents house to try to explain to them why the woman I'm dating doesn't want to meet them.”

Buffy made a noise in her throat. “That's not fair. I had work,” she reminded the man. “Plus, Dawnie is sleeping.” She gestured down the hallway in the direction of the brunette teen's bedroom. “I can't just leave and go with you right now.”

“She's not a child you have to babysit, Buffy,” Preston grumbled, rubbing at his face in annoyance. “She's in
college
.”

The slayer folded her arms across her chest stubbornly. “That doesn't mean anything. I don't care if she's in a nursing home. She's my little sister, and I'm not leaving her alone in the middle of the night.”

Preston rolled his eyes. “Fine,” he grumbled under his breath. “Merry fuckin' Christmas to you too, babe.” The man dramatically exited the house and slammed the door behind him.

Buffy growled and grabbed for the closest thing within her reach, which turned out to be the TV remote. She hurled it angrily at the closed front door, and the device shattered into a number of smaller pieces.

Buffy stomped to the large bay window at the front of the living room and watched as Preston climbed into his SUV and pulled out of her driveway. Outside, the snow was really starting to come down. Large flakes fell from the sky and began to accumulate in a thin layer on the ground.

“I hope his car gets stuck in a ditch,” she grumbled miserably to herself. Buffy angrily pulled the front curtains closed so she wouldn't have to look outside anymore.

The Chosen One turned on her heels angrily. Of all the nights for Preston and her to get in a ridiculous fight, of course it would be Christmas Eve. The half-finished bottle of merlot in the kitchen beckoned to her. With Dawn asleep, and herself too angry to do the same, her only solution was to drink until she'd calmed down enough to go to bed. Or pass out. Either option sounded just fine at this point.

Leaving the living room for the kitchen, the blonde filled a large wine glass with the remaining liquid in the wine bottle. She swallowed a large mouthful of the alcohol, hovering near the kitchen island, and followed her original slug with a smaller sip. Maybe she should pace herself.

Back in the living room, a brisk knock at the front door alerted her. Buffy left the kitchen and crossed the house quickly. Fully expecting it to be Preston on the other side of the door, Buffy didn't bother checking out the window. She yanked open the front door with a biting quip ready at the tip of her tongue.

Outside, the storm had picked up. Large snowflakes swirled in violent figures in the air. Buffy's breath caught in her throat when she recognized the silhouette standing on her front porch.

“Faith?”

The familiar rasp broke above the howling wind: “Well, it sure as hell ain't Santa Claus.”

Unexpectedly, the elder slayer burst into tears.

“Fuck,” the Boston girl cursed, dropping her small duffle bag to the ground. “I knew I shoulda called first.”

“N-not sad tears,” the blonde whimpered. “Happy tears.”

“Oh, uh, really?”

Buffy nodded, and wiped at her eyes. “I'm s-sorry,” she mumbled between sobs. “It's just been a long, emotional night.”

“Come here,” Faith gently coaxed, pulling the shaking slayer into a tender embrace. The brunette wrapped her arms around the smaller woman's shoulders and squeezed her tight.

“Y-you're freezing,” Buffy mumbled into the taller woman's leather-covered shoulder.

“Don't worry `bout me, B. I'm an East Coast girl,” Faith boasted. “This storm ain't nothing I haven't seen before.”

“Come inside, at least,” Buffy insisted as if suddenly remembering her manners.

The Boston girl stepped into the front foyer, and the bottoms of her heavy boots crunched against something on the wooden floor. She lifted her feet and saw tiny bits of black plastic and green and red electrical wires “Woah,” she stated. “Did the technology piss you off or something?”