Not Your Average Date

Disclaimer: All Joss, not me, no money, etc., ad infinitum.

“Stupid holiday.” Faith flung herself into the armchair next to the sofa; one booted foot landed heavily on the coffee table, luckily on the newspaper someone had abandoned there.

“Mm.” Sitting curled up in one corner of the sofa, Buffy pretended to be engrossed in her book. Truthfully, she was trying very hard to pretend that it wasn’t Valentine’s Day. Valentine’s Day very rarely done her any favors, anyway – it was like a commercialized version of her birthday. So she ignored the Cupids and the pink and red hearts that Dawn had put up, the schmoopy cards and the overly romantic way everyone was acting. Oh, she thought suddenly, maybe Cupid is really a demon I can slay... that would just make my day. And everyone else would stop acting so stupid… Oh, no, I’m not bitter, not at all.

She could feel Faith’s dark eyes on her. “Oh, come off it, B,” she said, her tone one of thinly-veiled irritation. “You’re just as fed up with this shit as I am.”

Slowly, Buffy lowered her book. “It is pretty gag-worthy,” she admitted. “But there isn’t any way of escaping it.” When Faith opened her mouth, she hastily amended, “I mean, without killing them all.”

When she pouted, Faith’s lips made a scarlet bow, and she sunk down even lower in the chair. “It’d make everything a little saner around here,” she muttered, and swung her other foot up onto the coffee table as well. “I mean, come on. Everyone’s got a date tonight but the hot chicks with superpowers.”

Buffy flinched and determinedly buried herself in her book again.

“Something is definitely wrong with a capital WRONG when that happens.”

Buffy rolled her eyes and let herself be baited. “Or it could be that we have a night job, and because of it, we never get to meet the hot guys?”

“Nah.” Faith waved a hand in dismissal. “We meet hot guys all the time.”

“They’re dead, Faith,” Buffy said, her tone exasperated. “Dead and with fangs and therefore, not potential date material.”

Faith sighed gustily, managing to ruffle the pages of Buffy’s book, which earned Buffy’s irritated glare.

There was a moment of silence.

“I’m bored.”

“Read a book.” Without looking up, Buffy pointed at the bookshelf.

Faith snorted. “Already read the only book here worth reading.”

Buffy blinked. Okay, this was new. Faith read something? “I know I’m going to regret this, but… what was it?”

This time, Faith’s lips stretched wide in a grin. “The Kama Sutra.”

The blush was instantaneous. Face burning, Buffy returned to her book, now trying to pretend that Faith was somewhere else.

Faith chuckled huskily for a moment, then sobered. “I’m still bored.”

Buffy grit her teeth and said nothing.

“Come on,” Faith wheedled, stretching out to nudge Buffy with the toe of one boot. “Let’s go kill something.”

The idea was very, very appealing. Almost against her will, Buffy put her book down and studied the other Slayer appraisingly.

“Plea-se?” Pouting again, Faith batted her darkly mascara’ed lashes.

She had to play her role to the hilt, though, so as grudgingly as she could, she said, “Oh, all right,” and was hard-pressed not to grin when Faith bounded up out of the chair, all eagerness.

***

Patrol had been satisfyingly good. The vamps had had just enough skill to be worth fighting, but not enough not to now be dust in the wind. Buffy stretched in front of her dresser mirror, brushing at the smudge of dirt on her cheek as she did.

“So… was it a good date?”

The husky voice made Buffy spin toward the door. Faith was lounging there, backlit by the dim light in the hall, shoulder against the doorframe, arms crossed. Buffy hadn’t turned on the light in her room, so she wasn’t able to see the other Slayer’s face.

“That was your idea of a date?” she asked, incredulous. Then it struck her that Faith was probably teasing her again, waiting for her to blush and stammer, and she laughed softly, turning away.

Faith struck the moment her back was turned, pinning her arms to her sides and pressing her hard against the dresser. “Don’tcha remember what I said about Slaying, B?” she murmured, breath hot in Buffy’s ear, her body plastered against Buffy’s back. “How it makes you hungry and horny?” Then Faith’s tongue tickled the lobe of her ear, and Buffy shivered, closing her eyes.

“Well, I’m horny now, B. How ‘bout you?” Her hand – warm and knowing – brushed up her shirt, across the tip of one suddenly-taut breast, and she lurched in Faith’s hold, gasping a little as sensation traveled through her.

Feels so good…

“I’d say that’s a yes,” and Buffy could just imagine the smug look she wore. Then her lips were wandering down the curve of Buffy’s neck, nibbling at the scar there until Buffy was shuddering. Faith’s hold slackened, and her fingers stopped teasing Buffy’s breast through the thin shirt she wore. Both hands smoothed slowly down her body, spread wide, until they reached the hem of her shirt. There they stayed, one playing with the button at the top of Buffy’s jeans while the other slipped beneath the waistband to give her hip a fingertip caress.

“You want?” Faith blew across the damp patch of skin where Buffy had been bitten, and even through the shirts they both wore, Buffy could feel the pebbles of Faith’s nipples against her back. “’Cause I know I want…”

Buffy shook her head. “But I’m a girl,” she protested, striving for the denial that had always seemed to serve her so well.

“Got news for you, B.” Faith bit down hard on the old scar, and her blunt human teeth were as much of a turn on as Angel’s fangs had been; Buffy sighed and shivered, hands clenching at her sides. “I’m a girl, too.” She stopped fiddling with the clasp of Buffy’s jeans and undid it, pushing the fly down and splaying it wide open. That hand crept southward, under the elastic of her panties while the other moved back up, under her shirt this time, until it was cupping a breast. “An’ you know what there was in prison?” She ground her hips against Buffy’s ass, forcing her forward into her palm, just as it reached her fleshy lower lips. “Lots of girls,” she purred.

Buffy groaned and leaned back against Faith, pushing her own hips against Faith’s hand. One finger started to delicately trace her folds, while the other hand squeezed her breast, plucking at her perked nipple. “Look who’s pretending to be a good girl,” Faith whispered, and didn’t she know that the way she breathed in Buffy’s ear was making it so very hard to think?

“Huh? Oh!”

Faith reached across to give her other breast some attention. “I thought only bad girls went without a bra, B.” A twist of that nipple and Buffy gasped and bucked. “Not that I’m complainin’. I’m a girl who loves easy access.” And with that, the hand that was exploring down south found her clit and started to circle it.

Biting her lip to contain the mewling that wanted to escape, Buffy worked her hips in time with Faith’s wicked hand, grinding her ass against Faith’s pelvis, reaching back to grab on to her hair, her shirt, anything to hold on to. “Oh, God,” she panted, and whimpered as Faith’s hand left her breast to drift down, stroking her stomach.

“Spread ‘em, B,” Faith ordered in her ear, and mindlessly, Buffy obeyed. She was rewarded when Faith slid a finger inside her, continuing to tease her clit with her thumb.

“Unh! Oh God oh God oh God,” she chanted, and she was so close, the pleasure was just about to crash over her and drown her, and she just needed… needed…

“Open your eyes,” was Faith’s command this time, and she did. It was still dark in the room, but she could make them out in the mirror. Faith’s chin was tucked over Buffy’s shoulder, her lips brushing against her neck, her ear. Faith had rumpled up Buffy’s shirt so that her breasts were bare, and Buffy could see how tight her nipples were. The hand that had been caressing her stomach rose again to fondle a quivering breast, and Buffy trembled all over at the sight.

“Further down.”

And there, oh, God, Faith had somehow moved the front of her panties down so that she could see her hand, glistening in the faint light from the hall as it moved and pressed inside her, and with a muffled wail, she climaxed, her body spasming over and over until Faith finally pulled her hand away.

The sound of her own panting was harsh in her ears… or was that Faith’s breath? When she figured out how to open her eyes again, Buffy peered at the mirror. Faith was smug, but clearly aroused – she was breathing heavily through her open mouth, and still rubbing against her from behind.

Catching her eyes in the glass, Faith raised the hand that had so pleasured Buffy, and started to lick the juice from her fingers. Buffy closed her eyes with a strangled moan. “No more…”

“My turn next, B.” She manhandled Buffy upright, so she was leaning against the dresser instead, and then backed away to shimmy out of her shirt.

Buffy watched her in the mirror, unable to look away. She wasn’t wearing a bra either, she noticed.

She must have made some little sound, because Faith met her gaze again, grinning as she flung her shirt away. She advanced on her again, then caught one of Buffy’s hands and placed it on her breast.

Her skin is so hot, Buffy thought. For a second, she was paralyzed, and it felt like the orgasm had shorted out her brain.

Then Faith frowned at her a little, and she twitched, her thumb brushing over Faith’s nipple. Faith made a sound of approval and leaned into her touch, grabbing her other hand and settling it on the other breast.

At that moment, Buffy somehow remembered how to talk. “So, uh…” She cleared her throat. “Your date? I think I liked it.” Of its own volition, one hand moved to the clasp of Faith’s leather pants.

Faith just grinned at her. “Who needs dinner and a movie?”