Rating: NC-17
Feedback: Hit me (Love tap!)
Summary: Part 5 of series. Our girls experience Gay Pride in Los Angeles. Extra: Where's Waldo? About 35 of The Cats Meow Yahoo Group members are hidden within. Are YOU in here? And how many can you find?
Dedicated: to PT, as always, and to Elyssa Du Chevalier, aka London Lisa. And my bhoys. Frenchie, for his parlay voo Frahnsay, Sweet Z for being the best roommate ever, Nhemo, for being my lhover bhoy, and to my baby, Marciano (Rocky) for being Gina's Guy.

-Oralfxatn

The Incredibly (un)True Adventures of Two Slayers in Love:

Christopher Street West

FAITH'S POV:

"Fuck, I knew I shouldn't have let her drive!" I whisper loudly, lookin' over T's shoulder.

Tara just stands there with a silly grin on her face.

We're stuck on the side of the road waitin' for a tow-truck. Tara had followed me as I tried to pace away my frustration.

Buffy is sittin' in the back seat of the Jeep with Red, who is also wearin' a silly grin. All four doors are open due to the extreme heat.

"Oh, F-Faith," Tara stammers, "It's k-kind of like Disneyland, without the l-long lines."

"What? Mr. Toad's Wild Ride?" I say sarcastically.

"Y-Yep," giggles Tara.

"Yeah, well for you, maybe...and for Red. Dammit, T, are you sure you guys didn't do a spell or something? You guys seem to be enjoyin' this, while I'm frickin' comin' out of my skin."

T just looks at me coyly.

"You did, didn't you? I can't believe you guys!"

"S-sshh, Faith. B-Buffy is coming," Tara whispers softly.

"Hey baby," I say to B, watchin' her approach. She looks really embarrassed.

"Hey baby," she responds, rather sadly.

Awww...fuck.

I take her into my arms and hug her.

"Don't look so sad, B. It could have happened with any of us drivin'," I lie.

"Oh, I know. But it shouldn't have happened with me."

I raise my eyebrow.

She explains.

"I had a long talk with Dono Transmission-San, but I think some of it got lost in the translation."

Buffy thinks the trannie is Japanese. I couldn't find it in me to tell her we bought American.

"Well, see? Then it's not your fault, baby. These things happen," I kiss her on the head.

"Maybe Ronald can h-help," Tara suggests. I give her a wink.

Buffy brightens.

"That's right, Tara. Then when I drive us back, we'll be sure to know it won't happen again."

Oh god.

"Sure, baby. Let's not worry about that right now. I think we should take our stuff outta the Jeep before the tow-truck gets here."

We walk towards the Jeep and we see Willow wiggling her fingers close to her face.

"Baby...Tara, look! I have eight fingers on one hand!" Red says excitedly.

Tara ooo's and runs over to her, lookin' at her fingers.

Great, two spell-stoned Wicca's in our midst.

"I think they saw Amy before we left," Buffy says in my ear, "Yunno, 'herbal stimulants' again."

No. Not herbal stimulants. Herbal relaxants, maybe. Or a spell.

"As long as it's legal, baby," I say, and begin pullin' stuff out of the Jeep. She walks to the other side and starts doin' the same.

A few minutes later Cordelia pulls up next to me; lookin' fine and divine in daddy's old convertible Beemer.

She slides her sunglasses down the bridge of her nose.

"Let me guess. Buffy was driving."

"Come on, Cor, she can hear you. It's not her fault."

"No, of course not, it's yours."

"My fault? Please, she wanted to drive, what was I supposed to say?"

"No."

She glances over at Buffy who is pullin' more stuff out of the Jeep.

"No, Faith," she repeats, "N-O...No. Try it sometime."

"She's not a dog, Cordelia. I can't go around tellin' her no all the time."

"Actually, just once would be nice."

I scowl at her. She doesn't know what she's talkin' about.

"Faith, is this your wad of gum stuck under the glovebox?" Buffy calls over annoyed.

"Uh, no, B," I lie.

See? I say "no" quite often.

I look at Cordy and she laughs. She turns to look at the girls and says loudly:

"Okay, ladies. Let's see you put some hustle into it, I'm melting over here."

Tara and Willow giggle.

"Ding..." starts Red.

"...Dong" finishes Tara.

"Look, BOTH you witches will be dead if my make-up runs. Hurry up already!" snaps Cordelia.

Cordy pops the trunk and I start loadin' our stuff. The tow-truck finally pulls up and the driver doesn't speak any English.

Not nice words anyway.

Yeah, we're definitely in L.A. now.

"Hey, looky here," he says leeringly, eyeing Red and T as they tickle each other.

He looks over at Cordelia and then checks out B in her shorts. He wipes his lips.

"Ugh," says Cordelia, making a face.

It don't bother me none. I'm used to these kinds of jerks.

"Hey, Mac. You wanna put your tongue back in your mouth and just do your job?"

"He-he, sure my job. You lezzies? Come for parade?"

He gets out of the truck and pulls on his gloves.

You know, I always try to give someone the benefit of the doubt.

Okay, so that was a lie, but I would like to start trying.

Like now. Maybe something got lost in the "translation" and where he comes from, it's considered friendly conversation. I dunno.

"Yep, here for the parade," I tell him. He nods his head.

Okay, see? We're communicating.

Red and T get out of the Jeep and help me start piling more stuff in the trunk. We get most of it loaded, when I suddenly hear Buffy gasp.

I whirl myself around to see what's goin' on.

The tow-truck driver was on all fours. He was hookin' up the chain, but had decided to stop and give Buffy's ankle a lick.

I storm over and haul him up by the back of his collar.

"Whooa, whooa," the asshole says, eyes wide, as I slam him into the Jeep.

"What the fuck..." I look at his name tag, "...Mohammed?? You want me to shove my fist up your ass so you can march in the parade on Sunday?"

"No, no...exit only, exit only," he says tryin' to squirm away from me.

"Then keep your fuckin' mitts off my girl, got it??"

"No mitts, tongue," he corrects, and then flinches.

Yeah, idiot, look at my face. I'm not kidding.

"Baby, let him go. Cordy's right, I'm melting," Buffy gives me a soft kiss and then goes to sit in Cordy's car.

The asshole's eyes go wide again, but he keeps quiet.

He's learning.

"Ok...job now," he says, so I let him go.

I walk up to the Beemer and Buffy slides closer to Cordelia.

"No, B. One of us has to drive with him and I think it better be me. You guys go ahead to Angel's and I'll meet you guys back there."

"How are you going to get back, Faith? Do you want me to come pick you up?" Buffy asks.

She looks over at Cordelia.

"No," Cordy says. And then she looks at me, smug.

"Well, okay, then maybe you can pick her up," Buffy says to her.

"Yes, I can do that. Get me the address, Faith, and I'll come get you after I drop them off."

"No, that's okay, Cor. There's something I wanna do anyway. I'll just meet you all back at the hotel."

Buffy looks at me and moves closer to the passenger door.

"What, Faith? What do you want to do?"

"You," I whisper into her ear. I give her a kiss and then straighten back up. "It's a surprise, baby. You'll see. You like surprises, remember?"

"Bedroom surprises?" she asks, kinda sexy like.

I laugh.

"Not tellin'. But it goes between your legs anyway."

"Oh brother," says Cordelia, checking her lipstick in the mirror.

"F-Faith. Y-You're not going to that place yet, are you?" T asks.

"No, not yet, baby. You wanna come with me, right?"

"R-Right." She blushes.

"Where, Tara?" Now Willow wants to know.

"S-Surprise," replies T, keepin' it our secret.

The tow-truck driver honks his horn.

"OK! You come now, butch."

I shake my head and sigh. Some people never learn.

I gun the engine one last time before clicking into a lower gear. I continue to do so until I come to a smooth stop near the elevator doors in the hotel's parking structure. I grab the saddle bags and activate the security system.

Buffy's gonna shit!

The elevator doors slide open into the main lobby, and Cordelia and Angel are at the front desk.

They look over at me as I give them a shit-eating grin.

"So you did it, did you?" Cordelia asks dryly.

"Faith! You did it! Why didn't you wait for me? I wanted to go!" says Angel excitedly.

I look around the lobby and whisper, "Shit, Angel, keep your voice down. Where's Buffy?"

"Relax, Mad Max, she's upstairs taking a shower," Cordelia answers.

"Faith, I wanna see it! Can I see it?" Angel asks, his voice still excited and loud.

"Damn, Angel. Put a cock in it, why don'tcha? Of course you can see it. Just let me go get Buffy first, okay?"

"Okay," he whispers grinning, "And the expression is put a 'sock' in it, not cock."

"Tell Ronald that," I smirk.

He laughs, "Oh trust me, I have."

"You've told Ronald to put his cock in it? Hey Angel, welcome to the family," I grin, "You musta made him one happy boy."

"Not that happy," he grins back.

"Ugh, please. All this 'cock' talk is making me break-out. You know what that does to my skin." Cordy opens up her compact mirror and starts dabbing around her chin. Fuckin' drama queen.

"So which is it this week, Cor? It's obviously not cock, so it must be pussy."

"Of course it's pussy. Hello, Gay Pride week, remember?"

Yep. That's what I thought.

"Am I the only straight person around here?" Angel says shakin' his head.

"Not if you keep tellin' Ronald to put his 'sock' in it."

I walk behind the counter and stow the bags.

"Hide this for me, okay, Cor? I want it to be a surprise."

I start to sprint up the stairs and she calls out to me.

"Okay, helmet-head. What are you gonna tell her about that?"

Oh yeah.

I take it off and toss it to her. She puts it on. Damn, she looks good!

She sees the look on my face and she smiles, all sexy.

"Wanna give me a 'ride', later?"

"Uh, we'll see, Cor. I gotta go get Buffy."

"All this 'pussy' talk is making me break-out," Angel mimics, dabbing his face and opening a pretend compact mirror.

Just as well. It's not like he'd see himself anyway.

I get to the top of the stairs and head into our room. It's the one we always stay in when we visit. I hear the water turn off as I walk towards the bathroom and I see Buffy stepping out from the shower.

"Wet already? I just barely walked into the room," I tease her.

She gives me a look.

Oh shit, she's annoyed.

"Baby, what's-" And she shuts the bathroom door on me.

Okay.

I tap on the door.

Nuthin'.

I tap again...still nuthin'.

So I say:

"Candy-Gram." Silence.

"Land-Shark."

Nuthin'. Okay, that usually gets me a laugh.

"Avon, calling." Nope, nuthin'.

I was about to say Jehovah's Witness, but then she'd lock the door on me.

Hmm.

"Okay, baby. I guess I'll take that surprise back."

Click.

She's so easy.

"What surprise?" she asks opening the door and lookin' around the room.

"Me," I say, scooping up her toweled body and throwin' us onto the bed.

I start kissin' her.

Mmmm, she smells so clean.

I kiss down her neck and then work towards her chest; I loosen the towel and lick at the drops by her breasts.

My mouth opens up to suck on a nipple, but I get a knuckle instead. I frown.

"Nipple, not knuckle." I bite at it.

She holds her breast tighter.

"What surprise?" she asks again.

"Show me some nipple and I'll show you the surprise." She slides her hand down.

I lower my mouth and I've got a knuckle again.

I look at her hand.

"How bad do you want it?" I ask.

Show it.

No nipple, no surprise.

"I dunno...how bad do you want it?"

I groan.

She laughs.

"Faith, you know you always lose at this game, why do you keep playing?"

Good question. Fucked up memory, I guess.

"Fucked up memory, I guess," I say pulling her off of the bed with me.

"So where is it?" she asks again, running her hand through my hair, "Your ends are all tangled, baby. Did Cordy pick you up in the convertible?"

"No, baby, she's workin' in the office with Angel. Did you take a nap or something?"

I feel kinda bad.

I had kept her up all night playing "mechanic" and then I dragged her ass out of bed early this morning. But I just couldn't wait to get here.

"Yeah, you were gone so long. Plus I guess I'm just worn out."

Okay. She may not have had much sleep, but I did not wear her out.

She can go as long as I can. I know what she's up to, she's such a liar.

"Okay, baby. I get it. If I show you the surprise, will you not be 'worn out'?"

"I do feel a second wind coming," she smiles at me.

"You win, baby. Get dressed, let's go see that surprise."

Okay, so maybe I'm the easy one.

She happily starts going through her suitcase. She pulls out some clothes.

"No, baby. Don't put on shorts, throw on some jeans. But the tank top's okay."

She looks at me.

"Oh?" she says.

"Yup," I respond.

She looks at me inquisitively, but I ignore her.

I go to the bathroom and work the tangles out of my hair. I curl back my lips and look at my teeth in the mirror.

Yunno...for bugs.

Only kidding.

"Okay, baby. I'm ready."

Damn, that was quick.

"Great, baby," I say walkin' back inside the room, "But you're not gonna need them shoes."

"Faith, just tell me."

"Nope," I say.

"I feel tired suddenly," she sighs, pulling her hair into a ponytail.

I grin and grab her hand and pull her out the door.

"That's too bad, baby. But I've got something that'll perk you right up!"

We're in the underground parking lot and Buffy is starin' at the Harley.

"It's ours, B. You like it?" I ask excited.

"Baby, it's beautiful," she says, still lookin' at it.

And it is, too.

"Faith, you got the 100th Anniversary Dyna Low Rider!" Angel exclaims. Cordelia is right behind him, draggin' the saddlebags.

"Yes I did," I say proudly.

"Two-tone sterling with vivid black," he continues, stating the obvious.

"Yup." Duh.

"U.S. powertrain, twin cam engine with 88 vibration isolation-mounted."

Uh. Okay.

He leans down and runs his hand over the engine.

"Torque is 85.0 feet per pound at 3000 rpm...Oh, and a shorty staggered dual exhaust system! Nice! Your unique features are the black powder-coated engine with the chrome covers; low profile suspension; low-slung custom seat and the raked-out front fork."

He's such a guy sometimes.

Xander would have said: "Nice Hog. Can I drive it?"

"Yeah, well don't forget the engine medallion, model name plate, seat emblem, and gold cast wheels," I add in a rush.

He looks at me, impressed.

Fuck, I don't know. That's all I remember the guy tellin' me. I just knew Buffy would look good sittin' on it behind me.

"Boys and their toys," Cordelia says rolling her eyes.

"And girl," says Buffy, looking at me.

"Whatever," Cordy puts the helmet back on her head and smiles at me.

Hooo! She looks REALLY good.

I glance over at Buffy and she's smirkin' at me. Cordy still likes to flirt with me, but Buffy's not jealous.

She knows that I only wanna come with her -

Cordy gets on the bike and throws me a smouldering look.

- but she doesn't.

"So where's my ride?" she purrs, just like my engine. Then she starts vibin' me.

Oh, and that's changed too.

Her vibe used to feel like a thousand honey bees, swarming and buzzin' around my body.

But now it just feels like a gnat.

I swat at the back of my neck.

Buffy laughs. Yeah, she knows.

"She'll give you a ride, Cor, but I get one first."

"Okay," Cordy says, gettin' off the bike, "I brought your gear."

I get excited again.

"Baby, open the saddle-bags and put on your stuff!" She smiles at me. She loves when I act like a little kid.

Biker boots, helmet, gloves, and a tight leather vest.

All black, of course. She looks fuckin' bad-ass.

I let out a low whistle.

I walk to the bike and throw my leg over it. I fire it up and gun the engine. Cordy hands me my helmet.

"Those German novelty helmets are stylish, Faith, but I really don't think that they're DOT," says Angel.

"That's where you're wrong, my dead friend. They are, and it says so on the box."

"Oh, well okay then," he smiles.

I adjust the strap under my chin and look sideways at Buffy. I give her one of my sexy looks.

"Come on baby...ride with me."

Cordy bends down and whispers in my ear.

"Bitch," and then tweaks my nipple.

"Ow," I say surprised, "What was that for?"

"For Buffy...and a little for me." She walks over to B and waves a hand in front of her face.

"Hello? Earth to Buffy. You can come down from planet oh-my-god-I-need-to-fuck-you-right-now, already."

She nudges her.

"You better go...before I do."

Buffy stares at me a few moments more and then blinks her eyes. Damn. I must look good.

I duck my head and look in the handlebar mirrors. Oh. I guess I do.

Nice.

Buffy gets on and settles back behind me; I lean back to give her a kiss.

"Where are you going?" Cordelia asks, bored suddenly and lookin' at her nails.

"To the Land of Dorothy to pick up those parts," I waggle my brows.

"What parts?" asks Angel.

"Why, one working brain and one beating heart."

Angel slips into game face and I gun the engine; we hear him roar like a lion as we exit the garage.

The ride was exhilarating.

The boys and girls of West Hollywood were out in full force.

But it'll seem like a bucket of guppies compared to this weekend. Over 350,000 people were expected to attend the parade. Sunnydale ain't got nuthin' like this.

We cruised Santa Monica boulevard and the neighboring streets.

Melrose, Fairfax, La Brea and La Cienega. Everywhere we looked we saw same-sex couples. There were even some along The Sunset Strip.

But Boy's Town was the Mecca. Eventually all good gays would pilgrimage to that unholy spot.

It was a Hellmouth of Sin to most fundamentalists.

Or fundies, as most of us called them.

Me and Buffy got lots of looks as we roared by on the Harley.

A couple of times we ran into a litter of lesbians cruisin' on bikes too. And as luck saw fit, both times at a red light.

I'd pop the clutch and take off when the light turned green, leaving 'em all in the dust. I could tell Buffy was mad at me, but I didn't mind.

It only made her grab onto me tighter.

All the bars and cafes were open and the streets were lined with patrons. Loud Disco and Dance music was heard comin' from every corner.

The Boulevard itself was clean and well kept. Rainbow colored flags waved proudly in the median strip. The local Sheriff's department was on hand, mounted on horseback and letting their presence be shown.

Not that they were worried about the gays causing shit. It was the yahoos that came into town lookin' to bash. Hate crimes are a fucked up reality of life and the Sheriff's department was more than sensitive to it.

You don't always gotta be a demon to be evil.

But now we were almost back to Angel's.

Buffy had gotten friendlier the closer we got to the hotel.

It had started with a hand up my shirt, caressing my breast...

...and then her other hand began rubbing my pussy.

Needless to say, I almost dumped the bike.

But I didn't.

Angel is waitin' in the parking structure as we pull up.

We come to a screeching halt and I immediately pull Buffy off the bike.

He opens his mouth but then shuts it again as I throw the keys at him. They bounce off his chest and he catches them.

"Uh...thanks," he mumbles. He watches me drag Buffy into the elevator.

I get her into a lip-lock before the doors even close, pushin' her up against the wall. We grind a little before she moves forward, slamming me hard into the doors. She tugs at my zipper and slips a leather gloved finger inside of me. I groan as she starts to fuck me with it.

Seconds later the doors slide open and we tumble out, Buffy landing on top of me.

"She puts a new spin on 'easy' rider," Cordelia drolls.

We hear feminine laughter.

We break our kiss and look up to see Red, Tara, Cordy and some other girl lookin' at us.

Oops.

Buffy pulls herself out of me and tugs up my zipper.

"Later," she whispers, givin' me a kiss.

I groan.

"Don't stop on our account, Buffy. Faith doesn't seem to mind an audience," Cordelia says.

"She was having trouble with her zipper, I was just giving her a hand," Buffy says, gettin' off of me and pullin' me up.

"I have trouble with my zipper too, can you give me a hand?"

I look over at the girl who said it.

You wanna repeat that for me?

"You wanna repeat that for me?" I say raising my brow.

"Faith, Buffy, this is Ellie. She's visiting from back east. She's here for the parade," Cordelia states.

"Only teasing, Faith. Nice to meet you. I hope I didn't offend you," Ellie says, concern on her face.

"Nah, I'm five by five, Ellie. Nice to meet you, too."

Cordy wraps her arms around the girl and snuggles in.

"See, Ellie? She may act tough but she's a good girl."

"Hmm, I'm sure she's real good," Ellie says, lookin' at me.

Now Buffy's annoyed.

"And she's taken. And apparently so are you," Buffy says, then she looks pointedly at Cordelia.

Cordy smiles at us.

"For tonight at least," Cordy says. Ellie turns her head to kiss her.

What? When did this happen?

"Ellie came by the hotel thinking it was open for business," Red explains.

"Kinda far from West Hollywood, don'tcha think?" I ask.

"Oh, I get that now, but I figured L.A. was L.A.; I saw Cordelia out on the street and asked her about it. She invited me in."

"Yes, I said that even though we weren't actually running a hotel, I did have two openings available for her."

Tara giggles and then turns beet red.

Well, that was fuckin' bold of Cordy, but the girl is kinda hot.

"Is everyone in L.A. this friendly?" Ellie asks smiling at Cordelia.

"Um, not that friendly," says Willow.

"You're just lucky, I guess," Cordelia grins.

"I hope to get even luckier," says Ellie returning a smile.

For some reason Buffy still looks annoyed.

"What's the matter, B?" I ask softly.

"I don't know."

Okay.

"Well it's nice to have met you, Ellie, but we have a little business to attend to," I say to the girl.

I hold Buffy's hand as we head up the stairs.

"I'd like to be part of that meeting," says Ellie playfully, "Think you can squeeze me in? I work real well under people."

I feel Buffy grip my hand.

"Oh, now I know," she says to me.

I laugh.

"Nah, sorry, Ellie. This is a closed meeting. Members only," I say over my shoulder.

"How can I join?"

"You can't," Buffy replies crisply, walkin' past me and yanking me along.

Oh yeah.

This is gonna be good.

We're in our room and I'm standing by the bed. I fake an innocent look as Buffy glares at me.

See, Buffy's jealous and it's makin' her hot as hell. And not just mad, I mean HORNY, too.

She tosses her helmet across the room. I do the same.

She stands by the door and I wait for it to happen.

I see a flicker pass in her eyes, but then it's gone.

Hmm.

I'm impressed. She usually doesn't show self-restraint.

Another flicker...and then it's gone too. Damn.

Ah, well.

I sigh and run a hand through my hair.

I glance up in time to see Buffy leap out at me, the bed catches me behind my knees and I topple backwards, a tangle of arms and legs on top of me.

I start laughin' as she places quick little hickeys around my neck, claiming me.

"Were you impressed?" she asks between sucks. She's workin' her way to my chest.

"Uh-huh."

"Well, don't be," Then she tears my wife-beater in two.

Her lips latch onto my nipple and I let out a loud groan.

She sucks on it hard, curving her tongue around it. It makes me fuckin' nuts. She brings her hand up and she grabs my other breast, massaging it roughly with the leather glove.

Usually it's a pain in the ass when Buffy gets jealous, but it has its upside too. She tends to get more aggressive with me and then tries to make me her bitch. Of course she can never really dominate me sexually...

But it's fun to let her think so.

She slides her hand down my stomach and yanks at my zipper again. She taps my hip. I lift my lower half and pull down my pants; they stop below my knees. I lie back down as she straddles my waist. I reach between us to rub her pussy through her jeans. She leans and starts kissing me, runnin' her tongue along my teeth and then plunging it deeply into my mouth.

I let her suck on my tongue as she fingers my nipples. The leather on my skin makes me nutty. I buck my hips a little. She does this for so long, that I feel like I'm going to pop...well, not 'pop' pop, just yet...but pop because I'm dyin' to.

She hasn't touched my pussy yet.

"Come on, baby..." I moan, "Touch it," I lift up my hips.

"Touch what?" she whispers in my ear, licking it.

She sucks on my neck and then slides herself down my body, kissing my skin along the way. She kneels at the front of the bed and tugs my pants to my ankles. She parts my thighs with her hands and I feel her hot breath against my pussy. My clit twitches...

And then nothing.

I hear movement, but I don't feel anything.

I wait a moment longer.

"Baby?" I ask. I'm so horny, my pussy is aching. I hear more rustling, but still don't feel anything.

"Buffy?"

I move my hand to finger myself, and she says:

"If you touch it yourself, then I won't."

What?

I raise my head and see her crawl over me to straddle my face. She's naked, except for the gloves.

I look up at her as she lowers her golden pussy onto my lips. She makes eye contact with me and she smiles.

My clit twitches again.

She moves herself softly against my mouth, her pussy lips opening more with each stroke of my tongue. I place it inside her and she clenches her hole around it. Open and close, open and close, open and close...

She's milking my tongue. My clit twitches. I musta whimpered or something, cus suddenly she looks over her shoulder and sees my hand sneakin toward my pussy. She lifts herself off my face and turns around.

"Go ahead. Touch yourself...if you don't want me to."

I move my hand away.

She lowers herself back onto my face, butt cheeks first.

She lays herself on top of my body and I feel her shallow exhales near my pussy. She rubs the leather gloves over my thighs and knees, then moans as I rim her tight ass. I stick my tongue inside it and she milks it.

Open and close, open and close.

My fucking clit twitches.

I move my tongue to her pussy and then back into her ass, I fuck her this way until she grabs my knees and lowers her head to my pussy. She rubs her body across mine and I feel her hard nipples on my stomach. I feel her tongue on my clit and it jumps.

She licks me slowly, lazily, but it only makes me more crazy. I slip my tongue down to her clit and lap at it, sucking it, makin' her groan.

She continues the slow, steady, fucked up rhythm with her tongue.

I, in turn, become crazed. I lick at her clit and suck at it frantically. The slower she goes, the faster I get.

I thrust myself against her face and she moves her head away completely. I groan, frustrated.

She moves her pussy away from my lips, but I grab her to stop her from leaving. She hovers for a while and then lowers herself back onto me. I go after it like a dog with a flea...lips, tongue, teeth.

I make the same noises too.

She resumes with her tongue.

She sucks a little but keeps the same pace. I speed up on my end.

"Oh...Faith," she gasps, movin' away from my pussy.

I hold tight to her hips and lick her as she spasms, coming hard, but still rubbing gently against my mouth. I let go of her and she slides down to rest on my neck, her warm wet pussy tickling me with her soft pubic hair.

I run my hands over her waist and up her back. She has such a beautiful back. Her muscles are long and lean, splitting her lower back down the middle. I love to run my hands up the groove. Her-

"UNNNGGHHH."

I sit up with such force that I almost throw Buffy off of me. She had thrust three gloved fingers into my snatch and took me by surprise.

"Fuck!" I yell, flopping back hard on the bed. I lift my legs and spread my knees. I dig the heels of my boots into the edge of the bed to keep them wide open.

Buffy tries to slip in another finger but it's too much. The glove already makes her fingers thicker and the angle she was in was not helping. So she starts licking my clit instead.

Now she's not holding back. The rhythm of her tongue and the motion of her fucking are equally matched. I feel myself startin' to come, my legs tensing on the bed, ready for the rush, when she pulls her tongue away.

I am so close and my clit is just THROBBING. I know if I bump it or touch it or if she just breathes on it, I'd come. I move my hips towards her face and she pulls back, taking her fingers with her. I move my hand towards my pussy and she says:

"Are you sure?"

"I'm sure I wanna come!" I yell at her, but stilling my hand anyway.

She looks at me, amused. Oh, sure. Why shouldn't she?

She already came.

"I know, but by who? By you or by me?"

"At this point, I'll take anyone."

I watch for it...

THERE it is.

Buffy's eyes flash with memory and she's at me again. She kneels on the floor and positions herself between my thighs. I quickly lift my legs off the edge of the bed and throw them over her, trapping her with my boots and my pants. I pull her into me.

She's so worked up that she doesn't even care. She runs one gloved hand up my slit, opening me, and with her other hand shoves three fingers into me. I arch off the bed as she fucks me.

"Oh, fuck...uh...uh...fuck..." I moan, her fingers ramming into me. She lowers her head and starts lickin' my clit. She fucks me.

"B-Baby...oh shit..." I dig my heels into her back. She sucks me.

"Uh...I...Oh...I'm gonna...uh."

"You're gonna what?" she says, removing her mouth and resting her cheek against my pussy. I can feel her panting against it while her fingers are still workin' me.

"I...uh...well...oh...oh..." She fucks me harder.

"Come, Faith? Are you gonna come? And by who, Faith?"

She returns her lips and tongue and sucks like she's serious. I feel my flesh start to goose-bump and a slow tingle begins to spread. I dig my heels into her harder.

"Who, Faith?" Stopping her tongue but fingerin' me harder.

Oh god...

"Who, Faith?" she says again.

"YOU, BUFFY!!" I cry out at the top of my lungs, my body shaking as she brings me off. Her tongue and her fingers in perfect sync, my body shuddering as she continues to release me.

She stops, eventually, and I'm a pathetic puddle of puppies.

I'm wet, I can't see, and all I can do is whimper.

I think she fucked me blind.

"Baby?" she says softly. She crawls up between my limp legs, "Baby?" she lays herself on top of me, kissing my forehead. She brushes a hair off my face.

"I'm blind," I finally say.

"No you're not," she chuckles.

"Well, I can't see."

"Open your eyes, dingus."

I open one lid and peer at her. She smiles down at me.

"Now the other one," she tells me.

I open the other one.

"Can you see me?" she asks.

"I'm not sure."

"What do you see?"

"My life flashing before me."

"Am I in it?"

"Yeah, you're in it."

"Well, that's all we need to know. Your vision is perfect."

"You're perfect," I tell her, pullin' her close to me.

"No, you are."

"No, WE are."

And I kiss my perfectly jealous girlfriend on the lips.

Buffy is sleeping.

We had dozed off after we had another go at it. But this time it was just us.

There was no third party lurking in the back of our minds.

I move through the room quietly lookin' for clothes. The ripped in half wife-beater is wrapped around her hand and near to her face.

I reach into my bag and pull out another undershirt. Buffy's somewhat unpredictable jealous nature makes keepin' extra clothing around a good idea.

But I kinda like it.

I run a hand through my hair and pull on my boots. I lean over and give Buffy a soft kiss.

"Where are you going?" she murmurs sleepily, opening her eyes.

"To get some FC, B. I'm starvin'."

"Baby, that stuff is bad for you, it's too greasy and pumped up with drugs."

"Nah, that's just a rumor, B. Who really knows what's in those secret herbs and spices? Besides, nobody does chicken like the Colonel."

"I don't know if there's a KFC nearby, baby. I'll get up and make you something healthy."

I give her a kiss and stop her.

"I know where one is. You want me to get you a salad from somewhere?"

"No. I'll have a #4 with 2 extra breasts and 2 sides of mashed potatoes and gravy...extra crispy," she adds.

"You want one of those parfait things too?" I grin.

"Yes, please. One of each."

I give her another kiss and say:

"Okay, baby. You rest up for me. I wanna have another crack at it later and I don't want you 'worn out'. So just stay in the room and catch some sweet Z's, okay?"

She smiles at me, sleepy.

She wants me. I'm a love machine. A Turbo charged F60.

As I walk downstairs I hear Cordelia complaining loudly. I notice she's holdin' an ice pack to her eye.

"How was I supposed to know she had a girlfriend?" she says.

"Did you ask her?" inquires Red.

"No. It's none of my business."

"I rest my case," Red smiles smugly at Tara.

"Whatever. That's still no reason to hit me with a knock-off designer handbag."

"Whooa there, Cordy. What happened to you?" I take the pack from her eye.

She's got a shiner.

"Jealous girlfriend," smiles Tara.

Geez. I like my jealous girlfriend better. She sometimes lets the other party join in.

"So Miss Ellie was really someone's Missus, huh?"

"Apparently. And after we had sex, she actually called her girlfriend to come pick her up!"

"Out-of-towners," I say shakin' my head, "Wanna go for that ride now?" I ask hoping to cheer her up.

"No, that's okay. I need to take care of this eye. I have a date tomorrow night."

"Already?" asks Red.

"Of course. I have one lined up each night this week; some nights, two."

"Whore," I cough into my hand.

"Excuse me?" Cordy raises an eyebrow. Then winces.

"I said, 'Good for you, Cor,'" I wink at Tara.

"And where are you off to?" asks an irrate Cordelia.

"Food," I answer. My stomach starts to rumble.

"Oh, that's right," Cordelia says sarcastically, "If it's not slaying, it's laying that gets you hungry."

"She n-needs to keep up her strength," smiles Tara.

I love her. Can I tell you?

"That's right, baby. And speaking of dates, don't forget we have one tomorrow, okay?"

"Okay," A bigger smile.

Red seems uncomfortable.

"Um..." she says.

"What's up, Red? Spit it out."

"Um...what exactly are you guys up to?"

"What, Red? Can't your girl give you a surprise?"

"Well, sure. With Tara I expect kittens, but with you I expect handcuffs."

"Maybe you'll get a kitten in handcuffs," I joke.

Red thinks about it and then looks shyly at Tara. Tara starts blushing up a storm.

Oops. I went too far. Don't wanna change T's mind about comin' with me.

"Or maybe it's a hot fudge sundae with 2 cherries on top. Don't worry, Red. It's all for the good."

Red lets it go and Tara looks relieved.

I forget, sometimes, that not everyone is like me.

I mean, it's sex. What's not to like?

In fact, sex spelled backwards is X-E-S.

Okay, so that doesn't mean anything, but if you spell that backwards it's S-E-X.

See how it all comes together?

Sometimes I think it's just me and Whordy who feel that way.

"Weren't you going to get some food?" Whordy drolls.

"Yep, and I better motor. KFC closes at 11."

"Wrong. Try closed for remodeling."

"What?? Damn. And I was cravin' chicken."

"Help yourself to the fridge," says Red, "Tara made some lemon chicken, but neither of us decided to eat it."

Tara makes a grimace on her cute little face.

"Why's that?"

"Cus she mentioned how weird it was to eat something that used to have a face on it and then it just grossed us out."

"Heck yeah, I'll eat it. Besides, one of my favorite things to eat has a face on it," I joke, walkin' to the kitchen.

"Eew, that's my best friend," says Red, really grossed out now.

I get to the kitchen and open the big stainless steel door. It's packed with food. Fuck, yeah. I find the chicken and nuke it up. I go back to the fridge and grab a huge carton of milk, then I reach back inside and grab me another.

Buffy might want some.

My hand hits something mushy.

Pie?

I love pie!

Cream, meringue, ala mode or hair.

Heh heh.

I find a tray and pile everything on top. I grab two napkins, silverware, and a glass for Buffy.

The carton was fine by me.

I nod at everyone as I walk up the stairs. No time for small talk, 'the Donger need food'.

I raise my knee and balance the tray on it so I can open the door. I let myself in and shut it softly behind me.

I don't know why.

She's awake and she's fingering herself.

"Baby, wait up. I gotta eat something first."

She looks at me, surprised.

"Um, I thought you'd be gone longer. Weren't you going for chicken?" she asks, hidin' her fingers behind her back.

"Yeah, B. It's right here, but there was a slight change in plans," I put down the tray and look at her.

She's really embarrassed.

"Did I catch you at somethin'?"

"Um...no," She's super embarrassed now. She's pink going on red.

"Well, I musta, cus you're changing colors. I've seen you play with yourself before, B, so what's the big deal?"

"Cus you walked in on me."

I sit on the bed and take a hand from behind her back.

"So what, baby? You've walked in on me plenty of times. In the shower, in the bed, in that closet."

"My mom's closet."

"Right, that one."

Don't ask. But it's not what you think.

No, really.

"I know," she says.

"So what's the difference? I thought we got over this?"

"We did, Faith. You just surprised me. Let's drop it, okay?"

"Okay."

Yeah. Her, T, and Red all need a surprise. And T and me are gonna give it to 'em. T just doesn't know how BIG of a surprise yet.

"Here, baby. T made some lemon chicken, and look, someone made pie."

She smiles at me.

"Do you know what kind it is?" she asks.

"No, but it's obviously cream somethin'."

We finish off the chicken as I eyeball the pie.

I want some.

"Faith, why do you always eat pie from the middle? Other people might want some too, you know."

I scoop up a big chunk of it with a spoon.

I raise a brow, "Do you want some?"

"Well, no."

"Well, alright then."

Buffy leans over and takes the spoon from my hand. She feeds it to me.

Nice.

I open my mouth and close my eyes. Just like old times. My baby.

Hmm. It tastes kinda tart. Must be lemon.

No...it's REALLY tart.

My eyes start to water and my lips begin to pucker. She laughs at me and leans in to give me a kiss.

"It's lemon," she says.

"No, it's lemons. Did you make me a lemons pie? What you got in there, a hundred?"

"No, just fifty."

"Why, B?"

"I missed your pucker."

It really was like old times. I won't let B serve me piping hot food anymore, so she thought of another way.

"Although it's not the visual I expected," she adds.

I'm sure it's not. This pucker is definitely not sexy.

"Oh well," she sighs. And then giggles.

I take a finger and stick it in the pie. I hold it up for her. She looks at me unsure, but I place it closer to her lips. She sticks out her tongue and licks it. She makes a face and I give her a look.

She opens her mouth and I stick it inside. I slide it in and out.

She loves when I do that, so she ignores the fact that it's super sour. She sucks a little on my finger and my nipples get hard.

I feel myself get wet, too.

"I stink, baby, I'm gonna go get in the shower."

She whimpers a little and then lets go of my finger.

"You comin'?" I ask walkin' to the bathroom.

"In a minute."

"Okay, hurry up."

I strip down and turn on the shower. It's cold at first, but it feels good. The weather down here is fuckin' hot. I soap up my body and wash out my hair. I rinse, repeat, and then realize she's not comin'.

I walk out wet and she's got the lights out. But TV is on and it casts a soft glow on her body.

She's rubbing herself again.

"Baby?" I ask. This is startin' to worry me.

Her eyes are closed and she doesn't answer.

The tray of food is on the floor and she had pulled back all the covers. I look closer and I see she's rubbin' something on herself. Oh. It's the cream from the pie.

Sweet.

She's breathin' with light gasps and I almost come right there. She makes the sexiest little noises.

Her eyes stay closed as she's rubbing. I slide up between her raised knees and lick her fingers.

She twitches.

I run my tongue up her finger and then grab it with my teeth. I suck on it; it's sticky from the cream and her pussy. I move my head down and run my tongue slowly up her snatch. Her fingers move to spread her lips apart and I lick her opening. Nice and slow, up and down, and then in and out.

She moans.

I tongue her a little faster. She moves her hips down and my tongue slides out and hits her clit.

"Oh," she moans again.

I lick the hard little thing in a smooth up and down motion. I go slow. Her legs tremor around me, then I suck on it gently.

"Baby..." she gasps.

Her sticky fingers rest on my wet hair. She pulls me closer. I slip two fingers inside and watch her lips close around them. Her pussy coats my digits with her juice and the cream just disappears; I pull them out and suck on them.

"Faith..." she urges.

I slide them back in and start a slow pumping motion. Buffy likes to start out slow and then build up to a steady pounding. I fuck her slowly, watching myself go in and out of her hole.

"Baby..." she urges again.

I lick her and her legs tremble. Her hips start movin' with the rhythm of my pumping and soon she's thrusting against me faster. I slip a hand between my legs and finger myself.

"Ah...baby, slide up here," she breathes. I ignore her and start fuckin' her harder.

"Oh...oh...baby...oh, Faith..." she moans, close to coming. I suck on her clit and then lick again, I fuck even harder.

"Baby, I can't wait!" she cries out. She raises her hips and then lowers them, I keep my tongue on target. She moans loudly as she begins to climax; I'm not too far behind. I continue to lick her as I remove my fingers, her moisture seeping out of her hole.

"Ungh," I grunt as I come with her. I lap at her juices.

"Ohhhh...hmmmm," she swallows. She looks down, as I look up.

She wipes my chin with her fingers, "That was nice, baby," she whispers.

"That pie was sweet, baby," I say running my tongue over my lips.

"Not too tart?" she teases.

"Not at all," I smile and raise myself to kiss her, "Now do you want some?" I ask, rising higher above her.

"Mmm," she moans, licking me in answer.

Lemons cream pie, with a little bite of Buffy.

I swear, there ain't nuthin' sweeter.

"Hold on tight, T, and don't let go!" I tell Tara as we turn a sharp corner.

We were off on our little adventure, leaving our girlfriends behind. Buffy was curious but Red was confused. She had followed us into the garage when we were leavin'.

She was hot on Tara's heels and would bump into her whenever Tara would stop for a second. I think T did it on purpose. Her humor is subtle, but I get it.

"You're going to ride on Faith's bike?" Red had asked, like Tara was crazy.

"Yep," said T, strapping the helmet on.

She looked so cute too.

"Will you be gone long?" asked Red, worried again.

"If you can pry your way out of T's ass, then we won't be. Relax, Red. Have I ever given you a reason to not trust me?"

She gave me a death look and I laughed.

"Trust me, you'll love it."

I park the bike when we reach our destination. The lot was packed, but I slid my bike between two cars.

"So, this is it?" Tara says handin' me her helmet. I take it and strap it to the seat next to mine.

"The world famous Pleasure Chest. Yep, this is it, T."

She looks at me nervous, so I grab her hand and pull her inside.

"Don't worry, baby. You're with me, no one will bother you."

We walk inside and her eyes go wide. The lower part has all sorts of funny cards and calendars of drag queens and stuff, and a section where they have leather daddy outfits and hats. There's also Cop clothes and some fake badges under a glass counter.

"Upstairs, T," I lead her up top.

Her eyes go really wide now. Every nook, every crannie, was filled with sex toys. Big, small and HUMONGUS.

How the fuck those boys fit all that up their asses is beyond me.

But the clientele still looked really normal. Just like me and T.

Well, okay, like T.

"W-wow," she whispers.

It is kind of an eyeful.

Fake dicks, vibrators, condoms, various kinky outfits, feather boas, masks and candy.

Of the anatomical kind.

She wanders off to explore. Good for her. I take off and do the same.

After a half hour she finds me, with a shopping basket in one hand and a girl on the other.

"Jayme!"

"Faith!" She leans in to kiss me on the cheek.

"Look what I-I found," says Tara shyly.

"It's Jayme, T. I see that." Tara blushes.

Jayme is the roadie we met in Vegas when we went to go see Blondage. Fuckin' hot show. Fuckin' hot roadie.

"What are you doin' here, Jayme?" I ask, lookin' her up and down. She looks good. "Are the girls in town doin' a show?"

"No, but they both live here, though. I flew out for Gay Pride."

"Where from?" I ask her.

"Ohio. They don't have anything like this over there."

"You're not shittin' me. Nothing like this in Sunnydale either."

"So, are you staying with them?" Tara asks.

"At Janine's, but I'm hooking up with someone later tonight. She said I had to bring her a gift, so I thought I'd surprise her."

She looks at us and wiggles her eyebrows.

Jayme is a dog, like me. I like her.

"Oh, whatcha gettin'? Battery or strap-on operated?" I ask. Tara blushes again.

"Both, actually. A girl can never be too prepared."

I laugh.

"You got that right. Hey, maybe we'll hook up with you at the parade. You standin' in front of the Palms?"

"Yep. It's the only place to be, Faith. Perfect view of the parade, beer, and a bathroom. That bar is a goldmine come Gay Pride Sunday."

"And we'll be sure to add to their profits. Give the girls a kiss for us, will ya? And we'll see you there on Sunday."

"Sounds great. Any particular place you want me to put that kiss?"

I laugh.

"Well, my friend, I'll leave that up to you. I think you know the right places."

"You got that right," she smiles, repeating what I said.

I really do like her. She's got a sensible head on her shoulders.

She wanders off, and Tara and I wander into a scary corner.

And it really is.

Leather whips, penises, harnesses, slings and a stockade.

And tons of masks. Sado/Masochism style.

Full hoods, half hoods, some with mouths or no mouths. Some with no eyes either. And some with red-ball gags, of course.

"Faith, I-I don't like this corner. It scares me," Tara says nervously.

"Okay baby, I don't care too much for it myself. Let's go over there."

I wisk T away before she spots some of the other stuff.

Needles and pins and other long metal objects. And clamps with sharp metal teeth.

It scares me too.

We find a friendlier place nearby. What a difference. Edible panties, girl-friendly dildos, and anal beads.

Butt jewelry. I pick up a strand.

"Faith, look!" Tara says excited.

"Well, whaddaya know, T. Let's stock up!"

Janine and Julia Ann sex toys. They each have their own line.

We load up her basket and then head for the counter. There is a woman ahead of us and she has boxes and boxes of stuff.

"Same place as usual, Mistress?" asks the piereced-up Aussie sounding sales clerk.

"Yes please, Elaine. And charge it to my account."

The woman looks young and normal. Very pretty with a Scottish accent. Hey, we're in The International House of Pleasure Pancakes.

'Rooty Tooty Fresh and Fruity'.

We see the boxes get opened and checked for a quick inventory.

She's got tons of vibrating toys and some of the scarier ones too.

Actually, a lot.

Tara and I both look at the woman again. So normal lookin' and really pretty.

You never can tell, can you? I wonder why she needs that many?

We get up to the counter and the sales clerk finishes writing her account in the books.

"Mistress Crabby's CatHouse of Pleasure and Pain: Support your Local Dungeon".

I guess that kitten's got some claws on her.

Meeeooow. Hisssssss.

"Wanna make a donation, Tara?"

"Um, may-maybe next time," she blushes.

Yeah, I'd like to see her talk Red into that one.

We pay up and put our stuff in the saddlebags. It's bulging with goodies.

We put on our helmets and head back to Angel's.

I don't know about T, but I can't wait to spring these spoils on my girl. Yo ho ho and a bottle of rum.

We just raided the Chest!

"I made reservations at La'Orangerie. Tell Frenchie that you're friends of mine. He'll be expecting you," Angel says, hanging up the phone.

"Oooo, I love that place. What time, Angel?" Ronald asks.

Ronald had come in early this morning. Haven't seen him around much, cuz he was at the gym.

Like all day.

These boys are serious about lookin' good for Pride week.

"Eight sharp," Angel answers.

"You coming?" Ronald asks hopefully.

"Um, no," Angel says.

"Oh, why not?" he asks dissapointed.

"Well, you know, solid foods."

"Okay, then why do you know about this place? And why does 'Frenchie' know you?"

Hmm. Ronald sounds jealous.

"Because he's my French lover, that's why," drolls Whordy.

I mean Cordy. Her black eye has all but cleared up. She's ready for more action.

She's a wizard with make-up.

"Ooo la la, tres magnifique!" exclaims Ronald, suddenly approving now.

"Although the goat's blood is pretty tasty there," smiles Angel.

"Eew," says Buffy. Angel can still gross her out sometimes.

"Buffy, you shouldn't be so quick to knock something you haven't tried. Maybe not the French, necessarily, but quite a few cultures enjoy it. You should be more open-minded about things. You might find out you like it."

Ronald sighs.

"My point, exactly," he says.

Angel shakes his head and sighs back at him.

"You never give up, do you?"

B and I look at each other. Ronald explains. Sorta.

"I asked Angel if he'd like to go see the grunion run at Santa Moncia beach with me and he said no."

"No, Ronald. That's not all you asked," Angel reminds him.

"Oh, okay. I may have mentioned bringing a blanket and watching the submarine races..." Ronald adds offhand.

"And?" Angel prompts him further.

"...or that we could play submarine races and you could be Captain Nemo and I'd be your first mate."

"And what did I say?" Angel asks with a grin.

"Oh, something vague...like you wouldn't be UP for it, and then some stupid remark about some stupid movie."

"What movie?" Angel prods.

"Down Periscope," Ronald cringes like he's expecting laughter.

And he gets it. From all of us.

"Doesn't sound vague to me at all there, Rhonda." I elbow him.

"Well, if he's never tried it, how can he knock it?" he mutters.

"Ronald, I never said I haven't tried it. I'm over two hundred years old. There isn't much that I haven't tried or haven't seen."

Ronald looks like he's about to faint. I start fanning him with my hand.

"So...so you're saying you have tried it?"

Angel just smiles and gives a 'maybe' smirk.

"Or are you saying you tried it and you didn't like it?"

Now the poor guy looks bummed out. Good thing he's butch, cus I don't own a handkerchief.

"Aww, Ronald. I don't think Soul-boy is sayin' much of anything, really," I shoot Angel a look, "Are you, Angel?"

It's a warning. Poor Ronald's crushin' hard alright.

Cock tease Angel is crushin' his little gay dreams.

"Nope," he grins.

Ronald narrows his eyes for a second and then stands up straight, puffing out his chest.

"I'm going to the gym," And he leaves us with tease boy, who is laughing up a storm.

"That's the third time today. God he's fun," he says wiping his eye.

"He's gotta work off that frustration, you CT," I scold him.

"Yeah," says Buffy, "And at this rate, he'll have the best body in Boy's Town."

"He already does," Angel says slyly.

"Angel!" B, me, and Cordy exclaim.

"What?" he says with mock innocence, "I'm just sayin'."

"What did you just order, Ronald?" Buffy asks.

"I thought you took French, B? Didn't you understand him?"

"Um...well, not so much. I got the 'bon jour' and the 'merci' part though."

Well hell, even I know that. Bon jour are those 80's pants that came out around the time Jordache did, and merci is female horse meat. And not very good grade either. But everyone knows the French are into that.

But I ain't eatin' it.

"I got a little bit of everything. I hope you don't mind that I ordered for you?" asks Ronald.

"Sure, Ronald. But I ain't some kind of eatin' National Velvet type, so don't even ask me...and I don't care if the horse's name was Pie."

He looks at me funny.

"Uh, sure, okay."

What? That made sense, didn't it? Yeah, it did. He's just kinda slow sometimes.

"Hello, Elizabeth Taylor?" I remind him.

"What about her? Is she here?" He starts lookin' around the room. So does B.

Okay, I can excuse her, but I'm gonna have to revoke his gay membership card.

"National Velvet? Elizabeth Taylor?" Last chance, buddy.

"I know, great movie, the one that made her a star. But is she here or something?" He looks around the room again. So does B.

Okay, he's bein' cute. I'll let him.

"Never mind."

He looks at me funny again. And now B does too.

Ohhhhhh. She's in on it.

I get it.

"You know, I thought she was, but it wasn't her. So never mind."

"Oh," They both say.

PSYCH! I'm onto them.

No merci for me...I'll just eat the other stuff.

We chat and catch up. Ronald says he thinks he's finally got a job for me. He got word of some evil that's somewhere in Europe that he wants me to go check out. He's not sure exactly where yet, because his source keeps changing the location, but he's pretty sure he wants me to go.

Transmutation time.

"Big time evil?" Buffy asks worried.

"By the sounds of it," Ronald says.

I get excited.

"That's fuckin' rad, Ronald, when do I go?"

"Well, it's still just a rumor, but my source is really reliable. She's the one who told me about the Hellmouth and all. But for some reason my source's source keeps getting the location mixed up. The problem could be that my source's source's sources keep winding up dead."

"Faith..." Buffy starts.

"I know, B. I'll be careful. Besides, Ronald says it could just be a rumor."

"No, the evil is real, we just don't know if the location is a rumor or not."

"Faith..." Buffy starts again.

I cut Ronald a look with my eyes. He catches it.

"But maybe the rumor is about the evil as well. I mean, how much credibility can you give a source's source's source?"

"Exactly, Ronald," I tell him. I take Buffy's hand, "Don't worry, baby. Ronald will get all the information before I go. We'll be extra careful."

"I'm going with you," Buffy states flatly.

"Really? Oh my god, that would be fabulous!" says a too excited Ronald.

"I don't think so, Buffy. I go, you stay. The Hellmouth needs you."

"You need me," Buffy states flatly again.

"Of course I do, baby. But not for this. Ronald has been payin' me good money and it's time I earned it. It's my job, remember?"

"Yes, I remember, and I'M your girlfriend, remember?"

Oh-oh. It's gonna be one of those conversations.

"This is one of those conversations, isn't it?"

"You bet it is."

Nope, uh-uh, no way. See, you may be my girlfriend, little girl, but I'M the boss of me.

"Buffy, I'm a big girl, I can make my own decisions."

"Faith, you are not single anymore, so every decision you make is NOT your own."

"Buffy, you're my partner not my parent, so quit actin' like one."

"Faith, every decision you act on has consequences or did you forget?"

Shit. Didn't expect that, but that's okay.

"I'm not workin' for the mayor, B, I'm workin' for Ronald."

"What mayor? Of West Hollywood?" Ronald asks confused.

"What?" B and I echo each other.

"What mayor? West Hollywood?" he repeats.

"Ronald, why would I be workin' for the mayor of West Hollywood?"

"I don't know, you tell me. Hate crimes, maybe?"

"No, Ronald, but that's a good idea. We should check into that."

"No, Faith, we won't. Evil humans are still humans, or did you forget that too? We don't kill them no matter what the justification is."

Shit, she's nailin' me left and right.

I never said I was gonna kill 'em. But I'm gonna let that drop.

But this is NOT over. I'm going.

I lean in and give her a kiss.

"Of course not, baby. How could I, with you here to always remind me?"

"Are you being facetious?"

Oh, fancy French words. Well, I know this one too.

"No, I'm not being shitty. I'm just funnin' a little with you."

She gives me a look. So does Ronald.

Haaaaa! Shocked 'em with my skills in parlay voo Frahnsay.

But I still ain't eatin' no horse meat.

Frenchie walks up and brings us our appetizers. He's the head waiter that Angel told us to talk to.

Whordy's little french frie. He's really cute.

He had gone on and on about Cordy's breasts. These French guys are big on "zee bosoms."

Especially the big ones.

"Aahh, Cordy...Ses seins sous une pleine lune sont comme la mie blance des croissants que je mangais au petit dejeuner etant petit garcon. J'aime prendre ses mamellons dans ma bouche et les mordiller jusqu'a-ce qu'elle pousse des cris aigus comme une conchone! Hon! Hon!"

We look at him. Ronald starts crackin' up.

Frenchie translates for us:

"Under zee full moon, urr breasts are like zee soft white dough of zee croissants I used to eat for breakfast as a small boy. I love to take each nipple into my mouth and suck on zhem until she squeals like a leetle pig."

Great. Now I'm cravin' bacon. And where's that bread?

Damn him.

He puts the plates down and tells us our meal will be ready when we are. Now that's service. But I dig in, cus I know what's comin' next.

But they don't know that I know. Psych.

Let's see...Frog legs...uh, no thanks. Goat cheese. I don't think so.

Oh, what's this?

"Hey, pass those over for me, will ya, Ronald?"

Buffy is eatin' the cheese. Gotta make sure she brushes her teeth before she kisses me.

Mmmm. Garlicky sauce and mushroom caps. I sop up the juice with my bread.

"This is fuckin' great, Ronnie," I tell him chewing.

"Mouth, Faith," scolds Buffy.

"Oops. I mean friggin' great, sorry."

"No baby, your mouth. Close it."

See food, schmee food. Whatever.

I close my mouth.

Buffy and Ronald are pretty happy with the goat cheese and frog legs. They keep oooing and ahhhing over them.

Tastes like chicken. Yeah, right.

So just order the chicken then, why don'tcha? Duh.

Nobody seems to care, so I dump the mushroom caps and sauce onto my plate. I sop up more juice with my bread.

I bite into something chewy.

I chew.

And chew.

I'm still chewing, but now I look like a dog tryin' to get something out from his back teeth.

"Faith, your mouth," Buffy scolds again.

"It's not my fault, B. The chef got some tough-ass mushrooms or something."

Buffy looks at my plate.

"Baby, stop," she warns.

"No, B, I got it. Look, and my mouth is closed this time."

"No baby, stop eating the 'mushrooms'," she warns louder.

I swallow. I open my mouth and show her.

"See? All gone."

"Baby, that's gross. But take a sip of wine now, okay? No, on second thought, drink some of this water, and fast."

We got a bottle of the fussy pussy stuff. Poullie fusay or something. It's not so bad.

She hands me a glass, the water sloshing over the rim.

I take it and drink it.

I look at her curiously.

"What's the matter, Buffy? Faith never eat escargot before?"

What?

What??? I know that word too, and I think I'm gonna be sick.

I start feelin' green.

Buffy gets up and kneels down by my chair. She takes my hand and looks up at me.

"Baby, I'm so sorry. I thought you knew. Those weren't just mushrooms you were eating," she whispers.

My eyes start to well up, but I try to blink them away. She takes her fingers and wipes them for me. I'm such a pussy.

"But Faith, besides being a bit chewy, you gotta admit they were pretty tasty," Ronald jokes.

Buffy shoots him a look and he shuts up.

The poor guy. He doesn't know.

"I'm just gonna go to the bathroom for a minute, okay? I'll be right back," I push my chair out and stand up.

"Okay, baby. Take your time," She stands up and gives me a soft kiss. Fuck the goat cheese. I needed that.

I head over to the ladie's room and lock the door. I run the cold water and look at myself in the mirror.

I really am green. Thank god it was just one, and not thirty like my mom made me eat.

Thirty of my friends.

Okay, Buffy knows this but nobody else does. Besides me, that is. I don't think my mom even remembered it.

Her being piss drunk and all.

When I was little, I really didn't have a lot of friends. I mean, I did for a while, but then my mom would always break up with some jerk we were livin' with and then she'd move us away.

And then the next one. And then the next one. Until finally we moved so many times, that I wouldn't even bother taking the clothes outta my suitcase. We moved from one jerk to another.

I remember this one place we were at cus it was always raining. I mean, I guess it was winter time or something so it was always raining, but what I remember the most about this place was how the snails would come out after a good rain and be all over the sidewalks. I used to see lots of squished ones from when people would step on 'em and stuff. I felt bad for the little guys, so if I'd see one still crawlin', I'd pick it up and put it on the grass or something.

Anywhere but the sidewalk.

Well, I had kinda made friends with a few kids on the block, and we used to hang out around our houses. We just fooled around and stuff, playin' touch football and street hockey.

I was finally feelin' a little comfortable and had hoped this time we would stay. The guy we were shackin' up with was less of a jerk than the other ones were, and he didn't drink as much as they did either.

But my mom still did.

Anyway, one day I went to Little Jimmy's house like I always did, and when I got to his backyard he and a few other kids were kneeling down in a circle doin' something. He saw me and called me over.

"Hey 'cracka, come ovah heeya and see this."

So I went over there to see what they were doin'.

They had built a mud castle with moats and stuff and they had like fifteen snails in it. It was wicked cool. The little guys were all crawlin' around and goin' in and out of the water.

Slow, of course, but still movin'.

I got so excited that I wanted to play straight away.

I remember pushin' up my shirtsleeves and gettin' on my knees. I didn't even care if I got mud or grass stains on 'em. It would be worth the beating.

We were watchin' the snails and sometimes we'd pick one up and move him to another spot if he was movin' too slow. It looked like Camelot and the snails were all knights on horseback.

It was more fun than football or street hockey.

Then suddenly Little Jimmy said:

"Ready? On ya mahks, get set... one, two, THREE!"

And all four kids ripped the snails from their shells and started hurling 'em backwards.

I looked behind me and I saw a pile of shells with dead snails and another kid pouring salt on 'em. I never saw the kid before.

I got up and ran over to him. Salt was all over the ground, and he'd step on the snails to grind them into it.

"What the fuck are you doin'??" I remember askin' him. He just kept grinding his foot on the snails.

"What's it look like, ass-wipe? This is the crematorium."

Lookin' back, I realize it wasn't Camelot at all. It was Nazi Germany, and the moats were the death showers and the pile was where they got rid of the bodies.

I didn't know that then, but I fuckin' freaked anyway.

I jumped on the kid, who was a lot bigger than me, and started wailin' on him. I hit him so hard that I split the skin on my knuckles and got some salt in 'em.

But I didn't care. It killed the snails, but it wouldn't kill me.

Or him.

So I took the box of salt and started rubbin' it on the cuts on his face. He started screamin' and cryin'. Not so tough now, huh?

Pansy.

Jimmy and the other kids started yellin' and shoutin'. Pretty soon Jimmy's mom and dad came out, and I guess Jimmy's uncle.

The Nazi kid was his cousin.

The dads came over and lifted me off of his cousin. Little Jimmy's dad had to keep the uncle from takin' a swipe at me.

But he got me once. Right in the eye.

Jimmy's mom started yellin' at me to leave their house, and to take my white-trash self back to my drunk-ass mom.

I did. When I looked back, I saw Jimmy lookin' at me and then he ripped another snail from its shell.

Yeah, you're next, I thought. Just you wait.

But I never did. They all started makin' fun of me whenever they would see me. They'd tease me by steppin' on snails right in front of me.

So I decided to start a rescue mission.

I'd sneak outta my window right before dawn. I'd go up and down the sidewalks and put all the snails I could find in my mom's laundry basket and then I took them to my backyard.

Sometimes it would still be rainin', so I had an umbrella too. I musta looked like the girl on the Morton Salt box, except I was savin' the snails and not killin' 'em. And I wasn't wearin' no dress either.

I built myself a castle AND a fort.

I built the castle like Jimmy did, with moats, and used a piece of cardboard for a draw-bridge. I put some pieces of grass and rocks in the water too. Moats aren't clean, in case you didn't know.

They're actually pretty murky.

But the fort I built was made with mud and popcicle sticks. I had been savin' em since I was really little. In the summers, mom would let me have one every day, and I saved it.

I told myself I was gonna build a giant kite with them and fly away some day. I even drew blueprints for it. But as the years went by, my designs got bigger and bigger, because I got bigger too.

I knew I'd never get enough popcicle sticks to build it, even if mom let me eat a whole box, every day, all summer long.

But I held on to them, cuz I thought I'd come up with some other plan. I still had hopes then, you know.

So the fort had popcicle sticks and mud and some little ditches inside where the horses could drink. I put grass for hay and made some stalls. It was more or less the drier of the two. I'd rotate the snails so they could enjoy both settings.

I made my snails happy. And since I didn't have the few friends that I had any more, they made me happy too.

THEY were my friends and I would protect them.

So every day for three weeks, I'd wake up early and sneak off to collect them. I had about two hundred or so. It was a little community of snails.

I used to sing "Happy Snails to you...until we meet again" to the ones in the fort. But I could never think of a song to sing to the ones in Camelot. So I would just hum it to them instead.

Anyway, one day I was held after school cus I got into a fist fight with two kids. They were callin' me names, but I ignored them. But then they started pickin' on some other kid.

So I wailed on em.

The kid told the teachers that I was just tryin' to help, which was unusual, cus most kids rat me out and blame me for fear of bein' beat by the others again. But this one didn't, so the teachers didn't call my mom into the office.

Instead, they made me clean the chalk boards with erasers and then beat the dust outta them.

It made me kinda late for supper. But I wasn't worried, cuz most times mom would forget to make supper anyway, or she'd just hand me a box of cereal without any milk. We hardly ever had milk in the house.

That's why I like it so much today.

So instead of runnin' to the backyard to say hi to my friends, I ran inside and washed up. I smelled something from the kitchen and remembered it was Tuesday, and mom always got the welfare check on Tuesdays.

We were havin' supper!

I ran into the kitchen and mom was stirring the pot, and had a coffee mug of wine in her hand. She never used glasses cus she doesn't like to put on airs or nothing. Not even juice glasses.

When we had any.

I saw her pour some of her wine from the mug into the pot as she was stirring. It was gonna be one of those kinds of meals.

McDonald's had happy meals, I got crappy meals.

"Hi, baby. Mama was gonna make something special for you. But I spilled some wine on the newspaper and couldn't read the receipe anymore. So I'm makin' it up as I go along. But with wine, baby, all things become French. That's the secret."

I smiled at her. She wasn't such a bad mom, you know. I mean, when she wasn't too fucked up. I know she cared.

She was makin' me supper, wasn't she?

"Here, baby. Mama made this just for you. Eat up and make me happy, okay? You're gettin' too skinny."

"Okay, mama. Thank you."

And she put down a bowl of boiled snails swimmin' in wine soup.

The look on my face musta been shock.

"What's the matter, baby? Did mama fuck up? Did I fuck up again? Did you even try it? I can't do anything right."

And she leaned her back against the wall and slowly slid down it, spillin' some wine on herself and crying.

She wasn't allowed to cry. If she cried and he saw her, we were outta there.

He wasn't a violent man, but the sound of my mom crying made him crazy. He'd hit the wall a few times, and I was afraid the next time it would be her face.

So I ate it.

"Look, mama. I'm eating it," I tried not to gag.

She cried for a while longer but then eventually stopped. She finally got up after a long while and stumbled over to me.

"That's my baby firecracker. Eat it all, okay? Mama needs to take a nap," she slurred.

And she kissed me and passed out on the couch. But her eyes were still kinda open, the way some drunks can be, so I wasn't sure if she had really passed out yet or not.

So I kept eating, not sure if she was watchin' me. I gagged not only from the wine but from each friend I had to chew and swallow.

They were too big not to chew, and would get stuck in my throat.

And I cried quietly the whole time.

She finally started snoring, so I quickly poured the bowl back into the pot and took the whole thing outside. I dumped it in the alley out back and ran to the backyard.

The fort was demolished from where mom had stepped on it. But Camelot was okay. I saved the ones that I could and transferred them. I buried the others.

But Camelot wasn't safe anymore so I had to come up with a plan.

I took the popcicle sticks that weren't broken and laid them side by side. I got some duct tape and strapped them all together, makin' it a raft.

Not big enough for me, but big enough for the remaining friends I had left.

I made a little circle with mud, spreading some of it inside of the circle. I added some grass and a few pebbles.

I put them inside my upside down Round Table. I couldn't go with them, but at least they'd be safe.

And I set them loose to float away with the wash.

I know they probably didn't make it, but I still like to think that they did.

To some far away land called Camelot.

Where people defend honour and fight only for right...

...even if they were only snails.

But I'm in the land of Oz now, and I'm hidin' in a bathroom.

I splash cold water over my face and suck it back up.

Buffy must have told Ronald by now. The poor guy probably feels like shit.

I walk back to the table and they're both watchin' me. I see Buffy murmur something to him and then they both look away.

She knows I hate to be embarrassed.

The food had arrived and they had been waitin' for me.

Can't say I'm very hungry anymore.

"Go ahead and eat, guys. Don't wait for me."

I sit down and pull the napkin over my lap. Buffy likes that.

They start passing the food around me and I nibble on a piece of bread. It does smell good, but I don't think mare-C in bernaise sauce is gonna do it for me.

Frenchie comes out with a burger on a plate. It's got strips of bacon on it too. And those long thin strips of french fries. Looks good, horse meat or no horse meat.

But I just can't.

"Mademoiselle Faith, your bacon avocado cheeezeburgarrrr."

"Beef," Ronald smiles.

Psych on me.

Assholes.

"We finally got the National Velvet reference, Faith. We didn't order horse meat, they don't even have it here. And even if they did, we wouldn't eat it," Buffy tells me.

"You're not eating My Friend Flicka or Pie?" I ask her.

"No, Faith. But I'm hoping to eat some pie later," She smiles softly at me.

I smile back. She always knows how to make me feel better.

"Ladies, ladies, please...must I remind you that you are in mixed company?"

"So what, Ronald? You're one of the girls, what do you care?"

"Yes, sweetie. I may be one of the girls, but I am also a gay male and that pie comment was just gross."

"Even meringue?" I tease him, "Or ala mode? They're both French, aren't they?"

"Yes, baby. Both of those. But it's still gross. Especially the meringue. The idea of a cream filled 'pie' that forms a hard shell is enough to make me vomit."

"It's enough to make me wet," says Buffy.

"Oh, GAG!" He cups a hand over his mouth like he's gonna hurl.

"Not so much cream though, Ronnie. More like a nice clear substance," I offer.

"Stop! Oh god, pleeeeease stop. If I wasn't gay before, I would be now." He really does look green.

Whaddaya know?

"And those snails? They remind of another kind of trail. Like the one Buffy leaves on my thighs and stomach."

"And chin," Buffy adds. I nod at her. She nods back.

"Oh, for the love of Sappho, Rug-Munching Mother of all things unholy, shut UP already!"

He gets up and hurries to the men's room. He's a pussy too.

I gotta tell him that. I'm sure he'll love the visual.

Heh heh.

When he gets back, we decide to forgo the meal. We ask Frenchie to pack up some goat's blood on ice for Angel and promise to give Cordy a message for him.

"Tell my leetle lezbian that urr Frenchie is wait-TING for urr. We have much uff zee catch-ING up to do. Pleaze to tell urr that my sausage will be currred, strrrrroked and veeerrry primed for urr. 'Ow do you say...er...Prrrime A grrrade meat. Pleaze to do thees for me?"

Buffy looks at me sideways and pretends to put a finger in her mouth.

I'm sure Ronald will be happy to pass on the message.

Gag.

"Oui, mon sex-y Frenchie fritter," He kisses Frenchie on both cheeks.

On his face.

We walk out, all three holdin' hands and singin' Dominique from the Singing Nun.

"Dominique ah neeka neeka la la la, la-la, la la..."

That's all we know, but it really doesn't matter. None of us are nuns anyway.

No, we're pretty far from it.

But we got some pretty bad-ass habits, that's for sure.

I wake up to that sound again.

mmmrrrrrwww...MMMRRRWWW...mmrrrwww...MMMRRRWWW...

"Do you hear it too?" Buffy whispers to me, also awake.

"How can I fucking not, B? It's been happenin' all night," I say annoyed.

"What do you think it is?" she whispers again.

"I don't really know. But it sounds like someone is either fucking a moose, fucking a tuba, or is just fucking weird."

mmrrrrwww...MMMRRRRWWW...mmrrrrwwww...MMMRRRWW...

"It does kinda sound like a moose mating. Or a tuba playing from far away," she agrees.

"Yeah, but you know the first thing I picture each time I hear it?"

"No, what?" she asks.

"Some sort of self-automation device that makes different noises when it goes in and out of something...listen."

mmmrrrrwww...MMMRRRWWW...mmmrrrwww...MMMRRRWWW...

"You're right, it does," she agrees again.

"What do you think it is?" I ask this time.

"I don't know either. But it's coming from Cordy's room, I think."

Oh. Well, then it could be any of those things. Moose, tuba, or auto-device.

She's definitely fucking something.

"And I think she has two girls with her tonight," Buffy whispers knowingly.

"Great. Cordy and the she-moose are doin' the nasty, while the other one is playin' the tuba. She's so inconsiderate."

Angel's place has become a petting zoo. Cordy's beaver is constantly gettin' stroked.

"I'm gonna go over there and tell her to knock it off," I say getting up.

Buffy grabs my forearm.

"No, baby. We'll just look for moose droppings in the morning. Come back to bed."

Her hand slides up my arm and massages my bicep. She gives me a look.

Oh.

So it's a little freaky, but the sounds are kind of hot.

It's mating season. Cordy has her moose, but I've got Buffy's pussy. And I'm a she-pup in first heat.

Meow. Purrrrrrrrrrrr. Grrrrrrrr.

I lie back down and she moves into my arms. I love middle-of-the-night sex.

And I'm actually awake for it this time.

She kisses me gently, lettin' me know how she wants me to be. We know each other really well now. We've been together long enough to know each other's wants and needs.

I call it instinct.

She calls it signals and signs.

For instance, if she kisses me gently, like now, then she wants me to be soft and tender. But if she kisses me harder, then she wants me to be more bold and aggressive.

See? I instinctively know what she means.

"Baby..." she whimpers into my neck.

"Hmm?" I capture her lips again. I kiss her gently, runnin' my tongue across her lips.

"Ohh...um, nice, okay? Not rough," she whispers against my mouth.

"I know, B. I have instincts, you know. I may not be a moose, but I have 'em."

"Um..."

Um, what? She pinches my nipple.

Oh.

I stop pinching hers. Oops.

She sighs, relieved.

"Sorry, baby."

So I forget sometimes. I'm human afterall, not a moose. We went over this already.

I take a nipple into my mouth to make up for it. I suck gently, lettin' my tongue caress its peak. I kiss my way over to the other one, and make it feel better too.

"Mmm. That's nice, Faith," she breathes.

I know. You don't gotta hit me on the nose with a newspaper.

Not twice anyway.

She runs her fingers through my hair and parts her legs. She sighs again and settles back against the down pillows.

She's relaxed. She's feelin' good...

She's a fucking pillow queen.

I move back up to kiss her, givin' her a signal of my own.

Not gentle or hard.

Just a kiss.

She just needs to know that I want it.

Her instincts kick in and she moves her hand to my snatch. She starts rubbing it gently, runnin' it softly between my lips.

That's better. Oh yeah...much better.

I move my hand to do the same. She presses her pussy against it and I slide my finger inside.

"Ohh, baby..." she moans.

She makes me so hot, but I gotta chill.

She wants me tender.

But two fingers aren't rough, so I slide in another. She rubs her hand slightly harder against my pussy, dipping a finger in, but then sliding quickly back out to my clit.

Oh. I guess it's another signal. I do the same.

"Yeah, baby...ohh, that's what I want," she breathes.

I'm startin' to feel a little deficient.

But I suck it up. I know what she wants now. To be held and stroked until she falls back asleep.

I can do that.

I position myself to lean back low against the headboard. I put a pillow under my head. I shift her, pulling her with the crook of my arm. She settles on her side, draping a leg around my thigh, and begins to rub me again. She puts her head on my chest and starts suckin' my nipple. Slow and soft, almost like a baby.

And it feels really nice.

I run my hand over her ass, caressing its silky texture. So soft, so smooth. I slide my fingers towards her pussy and she shifts herself so I can reach her better. She settles again.

She's wet, she's horny, and she's comfortable.

And so am I.

We continue caressing and stroking each other. She suckles at my nipple, cupping and massaging the rest with her hand. I run my fingers over her clit and feel her excitement, its become hard and slick from my touch...I use the length of my middle finger to stroke it. I can feel the heat from her ass against the inside of my wrist. It's nestled nicely there as my finger glides smoothly from her moisture. Slow and easy.

Just like that.

I'm awake and I feel no need to rush. It feels so right, so perfect...

My baby.

We take our time...sighing softly, moaning softly...just lovin' each other.

We stroke and caress...her finger stroking me, my finger stroking her. She licks at my nipple.

"Hmmmmm," I rub my thumb over hers.

"Mmmmm," she murmurs against my breast. She sucks a little harder.

Our soft but steady pace slowly reaches its logical conclusion...

And when we come, it happens gently, like ripples crossing a pond...not waves crashin' at sea.

And when it stops, we're still again. We're smooth and serene and like glass...and not a word had been spoken.

Instinct.

I move my hand up, caressing her bottom, and then place my arm around her. She takes my hand and curls it under her chin, rubbing her face against my breast and then using it as her pillow.

I turn my head and feel the soft linen against my face. I sigh and let the down feathers cradle my neck. I stroke her hair, entwining my fingers with the golden strands near her crown. We hold each other as we fall gently back to sleep.

Her pillow, her she-pup...

My Queen.

"Uh, B..." I say quietly, gesturing at Cordelia with my head.

"What, baby?" she says back.

I motion with my eyes to what Cordy is doin'.

"Oh," she says, getting my meaning.

"Um, you know what, Cordy? I changed my mind. I think Faith and I will grab something to eat in Boy's Town. We still have to pick up a few things for tonight's costume party."

Buffy and I are in the kitchen. Cordy is makin' breakfast for her tuba player and she-moose. They're still in her room.

Cordy is using a hand blender and whippin' up some eggs.

The sound the gadget makes is a little too much like last night's sounds. God knows what else she's used it for.

I just hope it was with a different attachment. Ouch.

"You sure? I've got plenty of eggs here," she says, not lookin' up.

"Uh, yeah, REAL sure there, Cor." I make a face at Buffy.

"What are you going as tonight?" Cordy asks, breakin' in another egg.

"Don't ask," I tell her. I can't believe I agreed to do this.

"Oh, Faith. It will be fun, you'll see," Buffy encourages.

Ronald had invited us to go to a costume party that one of his friends is having. It's supposed to be the 'invite of the gay season'. Halloween isn't the only time the boys like to play dress-up.

"Is Angel going too?" Cordy asks, adding beer to the mixture.

What the fuck is she makin'? A beer-belly omlette?

"Yeah, he told Ronald he'd be his date. Whatcha got there, Cor? You fixin' a Red-neck breakfast?"

She adds another bottle.

"Yep, Saint Paulie's Girl. You never forget your first girl, you know."

Well, she must have a pretty good memory cus the two upstairs are definitely not her first. Two hundred and fifty-first, maybe.

But she's right. I never forgot my first girl either. And it wasn't a Saint Paulie's Girl. It was a Singapore Girl.

A stewardess from Singapore airlines. My baby, Cin-Cin. I called her my little China doll. A long, long time ago.

"Sounds delish, Cor. Uh, we'll see you later, okay?"

"Okay," She adds another girl and whips it up.

I grab B and head out to the garage. I got Ronald's PT Cruiser for our trek into town. He bought it on a whim and now was havin' second thoughts. It really wasn't his style, but he got it after cruising Will Rogers beach and snaggin' a few surfers.

"To carry their 'sticks'," he said slyly, "And they have such big sticks, don't you know."

I toss the keys over at B. She gets all excited and gives me a squeal and a kiss.

Fuck, it's not my trannie this time. Go for it.

"Oh baby, this is unbelievable," she says, pulling out smoothly from the garage.

No shit. This is FUCKING unbelievable.

She maneuvers her way across town. Stopping at red lights and driving up hills. She didn't stall once.

"Baby, this is definitely the car for me," I gotta agree with her.

Automatic transmissions are a definite must. I shoulda thought of that before. Duh.

We stop for brunch at the French Market Place on Santa Monica Boulevard. It's as busy as a bee hive and all the boys were buzzin'.

Some girls too.

"Look, baby, Dorothy's Surrender," She points to a gift shop inside the Market Place.

"Yeah, baby. The boys are big on the Wizard of Oz references."

"I see that," she agrees.

We order and eat our meal. We get a few looks from some of the gals in the place. Look all you want, ladies, but this beauty is mine. I lean across the table and give Buffy a lingering kiss.

"Mmm. That was nice, Faith. But what was it for?"

"Do I need a reason to kiss my girlfriend?" I ask, brow raised.

"No, baby. Give me another." So I do.

A flash goes off.

"Ladies, I have to say we all think you're the shit. Mind if we put you in this year's Christopher Street West Pride Magazine?"

Buffy looks up surprised.

But I don't. I know we look wicked fine.

"Sure, no problem. What's your name?" I ask the blonde-haired looker, shakin' her hand.

"Cristina. But you can call me Lionheart. Or Mythic, for short."

I look at the mane of hair she's got and it fits perfect.

It's fuckin' gorgeous.

"Nice to meet you, Mythic Cristina. You the keeper of records for the drama of Gay Pride?"

"Um, not really. But I like to help out behind the curtain, so to speak."

Another Wizard of Oz reference. Cool.

She gives us her card and then promises to send us some copies of the magazine. She asked us to pose a few more times, so we did. We got a lot of attention from the other patrons and Buffy was lovin' it.

Hell, so was I.

"Oooo Faith, can you lift your tank up just a little so we can get a good pic of your fabulous abs?" Mythic asks.

I look at B and she smiles, shrugging at me.

Okay.

I raise my tank with my fingers. But just a little and really, really slow.

"Tease!" we hear from a table of girls across the way.

"What? You want this?" I ask innocently, pointing at my stomach.

"YES!!!" screams the same table and a few others.

Well, hot damn. Look at that.

I give them a sexy look and let my fingers creep. Up, just a little, a little more...and then finally bring the fabric under my breasts.

"Hooooooooooooo!" a wave of female voices chorus.

And then the chanting started.

"MORE MORE MORE MORE MORE MORE MORE."

I look at the room, men and women alike. All were gettin' into the gay spirit of things.

My people.

I point at myself questioningly. I raise an eyebrow.

"YES YES YES YES YES YES YES," with rhythmic clapping along with it.

I give them a confused look. Then slowly turn myself to point my finger at Buffy.

There's my deer. Little Bambi.

She looks like she's about to be run over by a Mack truck.

"YESSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSS! YES YES YES YES YES!" a roar from the room.

Poor thing is frozen.

I'm such a shit.

I turn my back and shake my head at the crowd. I raise my hands in the air and give a gesture of "Oh well" with a dramatic flair at the end...

Only to feel my tank top being lifted right off me.

What the fuck??

The room goes wild and people start laughin' and clappin'. I turn around and Buffy is bein' held up by a giant drag queen and she's got my shirt in her hands. She's grinning at me and shrugging, like it wasn't her fault.

Like the giant Marilyn Monroe MADE her do it. Riiiight.

He backs up with Buffy still in the air. I throw them a wicked grin and approach them in my bra and jeans. Buffy looks panicked but Marilyn has got a good grip on her, so she can't do anything. She pretty much looks like a rag doll with feet dangling in the air.

Oh yeah. She's in for a world of trouble.

"GET HER GET HER GET HER GET HER," the room chants.

Buffy's eyes flash a warning to me. Nobody else gets it, but I do. Have your fun, it says. But watch it.

If you ever wanna have sex with me again, that is.

Signals and signs. Or is it instinct? Damn.

I walk up slowly and wrap my arms below Buffy's knees. I bury my face against her stomach and loosen my arms a little. Marilyn lowers Buffy and she slides down my face, her shirt raising a little with it.

We're skin to skin and the crowd goes wild.

Her shirt rises to below her breasts and my face gets buried between them. I rub my nose against her shirt and Marilyn steps away, leaving Buffy hangin' in my arms. I raise my head and look up at her, tightening my arms around her ass. She smiles at me and uses her fingers to brush away some hair that has fallen across my face.

I love when she does that. And she does it all the time.

"KISS HER KISS HER KISS HER KISS HER KISS HER."

She lowers her head, cupping my face with her hands, and she does.

The room explodes with clapping and loud cheering. I loosen my arms and she slides the rest of the way down my body until she is standing. And now I'm the one lowering my head to kiss her.

But just a little. I'm not really that much taller.

We're a perfect fit actually.

And the room thinks so too.

We break our kiss and the room gives one last chant.

"LOVE LOVE LOVE LOVE LOVE LOVE LOVE LOVE LOVE."

And we feel it.

From all of them.

"Baby, no. Not that, this."

Buffy is holdin' up something she wants me to wear for the costume party. I'm holdin' up something else.

"But why can't I wear this?" I ask her. I already know the answer.

"Because we're not going as The Sultan and his Harem of Women, Faith. There's just one girl and I'm her."

"But baby, look how hot you'd look in this outfit. All that sheer fabric and sexy coins and scarves. Come on, B, you can be my first wife."

"I'm your only wife, Faith, and don't you forget it."

She takes the Sultan's outfit from my hands and puts it back.

I still have the sheer fabricky one in my hands. I finger the coins. Yeah, okay.

But we will play Sultan at some point. She can be all of my wives. There are lots of costumes to put her hot little bod in.

"Put it back, Faith. NOW."

Or not.

I sigh and put it back. Party pooper.

She picks up a few more things and takes me by the hand. I pick up another object and she puts it back.

"No."

"But-" She cuts me off.

"No."

She's been takin' lessons from Cordy.

We pay up and head back to the PT Cruiser. She's still driving and will not give back the keys. I need to talk to Ronald about that. Maybe my baby needs a car of her own.

We put the stuff in the rear compartment, making sure it doesn't lay on top of the sand back there.

Ronald.

Ronald and his little surfer boys with big 'sticks'.

"Did you check out the rack on her?" I ask Buffy.

Buffy looks across the street.

"It's alright, but I like yours better," she says.

I crack up.

"No, B. The rack on the Cruiser. Geez, B, checkin' out other chicks...how come I always get in trouble for that?"

"Cuz you're you and I'm me."

Buffy logic.

She's got a lot of double standards.

Like when I cut one in the bathtub it's gross, but when she does it, it's a "Jacuzzi".

I shake my head at her.

"I don't know, B. Maybe we shoulda got that Sultan's costume afterall. Me and that honey could be in your harem."

"No thanks. Don't need a harem, got my hands full with you."

"And don't you forget it," I tell her, like she told me.

"No chance, baby. Now get your ass inside the car, we have a few more stops to make."

We weave in and out of traffic. Buffy flips off a chick that cuts her off.

"Buffy, there you go cheatin' on me again. Put that finger down."

"No baby, that would be this," And she holds up three fingers.

And then another.

Smart-ass.

"Where else do we have to go?" I ask her.

I'm horny now and I want a nap.

"Just a few more places, Faith."

"A few more?" I whine.

"Okay, a couple more."

"Okay," I answer, but really I mean NOT!

I lean my back against the passenger door and stare at her. She glances at me, then puts her eyes back on the road.

"Stop it," she says.

"Stop what?"

"Stop THAT."

"I'm not doin' anything."

"Yes you are, now stop it."

"What am I doin'?"

"You're looking at me."

"Moooom, Faith is LOOKING at me," I complain like a little kid.

"Quit it."

"Quit what?"

She ignores me.

I stare harder.

She still ignores me.

Okay.

I put myself back in the seat and stare forward out the windshield.

"What are you doing?" she asks.

"Nuthin'," I keep my eyes ahead of me.

She keeps glancing from the road to me.

"Faith."

Just starin' out the windshield.

"Faith." Just starin'.

"Faith!" I pull the lever and fall backwards with the seat. I'm starin' straight up at the headliner.

"Faith, you're freakin' me out."

She looks at me and shakes her head. Then she's got her eyes on the road again. And she leaves me like that, actin' like I'm not even there.

Eventually she pulls up into a parking lot and turns off the ignition.

She looks down at me and I'm still starin' at the headliner.

"Freak show," she says, then she gets out of the car.

I lie there waitin' for her to come back and get me.

But she doesn't. I wait and I wait. Five hundred years go by, and still no Buffy. And it's gettin' hot as hell. She closed all the windows and took the keys. No ac or nuthin'.

I'm tough, I can do it. I ain't openin' no god damn door.

I open the god damn door.

"Fuck!" I say, hangin' my head out.

I look over and I see Buffy's legs.

I move my eyes up and she's standin' there with a bag in one hand and an ice cream cone in the other.

"Peach," she says, "And it's really good."

"I want some."

"Nope, sorry. All mine."

"Give me some."

"No, sorry, can't do that."

I eyeball the cone.

"Don't make me take it from you."

"That's the only way you'll get it."

"Is that right?"

"Yep, that's right."

She slowly licks the cone where the ice cream dripped...then she licks the back of her finger.

She looks up at me from underneath her lashes.

Bitch!

I lunge out of the car and she takes off laughin'.

She starts giggling when I catch up and grab her around the waist. I wrap my arms tighter and lean in for a lick. She lets me.

Right before she shoves it in my face.

"That oughta cool you down. Can you wait on your mid-day hornies and finish shopping with me? I'm almost done."

"Okay," I know when I'm beat.

But she's gonna get it later.

She licks my lips and wipes the rest of my face with a napkin.

"Sticky," she says.

"Yes, I am."

"Later, Faith, come on."

So I let her take me by the hand and drag me to another shop.

Women.

You can't live with 'em, and you can't live with 'em. So whaddaya gonna do?

Fuck 'em, I say.

But that comes after shopping.

"F-Faith, you look really cute," says a smiling Tara.

"You really do, Faith," smiles Red.

"Are you both blind? She's fucking hot!" exclaims Cordelia.

I do look pretty good, if I say so myself.

I run my comb through my hair and let the cigarette dangle from my lips.

"You think?" I ask, turnin' my head so they can check out my profile.

"Hell yeah, Faith. If you were a guy, I'd have to rethink the whole gay thing," says Angel.

"Well, fuck you very much there, Angel," I strut around the lobby.

"Where's Buffy?" asks Tara.

"You mean Sandy," says Buffy from the top of the stairs.

Oooooooo weeeeeeeeeee!!!

I start singin'.

"I got chills, they're multiplyin', and I'm losin' control, cause the power you're supplyin', it's ELECTRIFYIN'!"

I get on my back, jerkin' my arms and feet in the air.

Everyone laughs.

She starts walkin' down the stairs, singing back at me.

"You better shape up, cause I need a man, and my heart is set on you, you better shape up, you better understand, to my heart I must be true."

I slide on my knees to meet her at the foot of the stairs.

"Nothing left, nothing left for me to do."

Everyone sings.

"You're the one that I want, ooo ooo ooo, HONEY!"

I look at Buffy and shake my head.

"Fuck, Sandy. Wheew!"

"You like?" she says, turning around.

She's got it down to a T.

Black off-the-shoulder top, black skin-tight spandex pants, red strap shoes on wood high heels and her hair is curly and wild.

Mmm-mmm-mmm.

"Uh, yeah, baby. I LIKE."

"That's nice, Buffy, but look at Faith," Cordy says, still eyeballin' me.

"Oh, I am, Cordy, believe me."

I strut for her, bobbin' my head.

"That's right, that's right, who da man?"

I got it down to a T, too. T-bird, that is.

Black boots, black jeans, and a tight black T-shirt with my cigarettes rolled up in one sleeve. I take off my jacket and sling it over my shoulder. Carefully, cus I'm hidin' somethin'.

Oh, and my hair is GREASED back.

Get it? Heh heh.

"Well, Angel makes a dashing figure as well," Buffy says admiring him.

Yeah, yeah. Whatever.

But I'M the man that she wants. Uh, I mean, Wo-man. Duh.

"What are you going as?" Buffy asks Angel.

"No clue. Ronald left this in my room and he told me to glue on this moustache."

Oh, come on. He doesn't know?

I look at everyone's faces. What? No one knows?

I start crackin' up.

"What, Faith? Do you know?" asks Angel.

I look to the top of the stairs.

"Uh, yeah, and you will too." All eyes follow mine to the top of the staircase.

Where a very dramatic and very drag-queeny Ronald is standing. He has the back of one red velvet gloved hand to his forehead and the other one is fanning his face with some elaborate flicks of his wrist.

He's wearin' a red velvet dress with endless feathers and red and clear rhinestones. And his wig is incredible.

"I do declare, Rhett Butler, you do know how to give a lady the vapors."

Angel groans. We all laugh.

"Oh, come on, Angel. If I can do it, you can do it. Who cares what people think," I tell him.

"You're right, Danny," He walks to the foot of the stairs and waits for Ronald to come down. He holds out his arm and says:

"Frankly, my dears, I DON'T give a damn."

We laugh. Courtesy laughter. I mean, that line is as old as he is. But it's Angel. We like to give the old guy a break.

"Hey, T, Red, you sure you don't wanna come? We can give you directions. How about you, Cor?"

"No thanks, Faith. Tara and I are going to Little Frida's for a lesbian poetry reading. Then we're going to the Griffith park observatory to see the constellations."

"Well, I can see why you don't want to join us. With those sexy plans, who can blame you."

"Funny, Faith. And for your information, it is sexy. Me and my baby under the stars."

"Uh, okay, Red. Knock yourselves out. Watch out for that little dipper."

I look at Cordy.

"No, I have a date coming soon."

"I bet you do. But when will she be arriving?"

"Haha, cute, Faith," She makes a face at me. I'm funny tonight. I crack myself up.

And right then the little devil comes waltzing in.

More like storming in. She's pissed.

"Fuck, sorry, Cor, but this bitch of a ref said I was out for the count and I WASN'T."

She's brunette, on the short side, and has boxing gloves tied around her neck and some tape around her fingers.

And she reeks too.

At least to Buffy and me. We both make a stink face.

"Look, Cor, your date is already dressed. Hurry up and you can still join us. Just throw on that cat-suit you own."

"She's not dressed for the party, Faith, she just came back from a match at the gym. This is Rocky. Rocky, this is everyone."

"Hey, howya doin'?" She runs her finger under her nose and sniffs. Then she does a quick one-two with her fists in the air.

Rocky? Nah, more like Jake Lamotta...

The Raging Bull-Dyke.

"Hey Cor, you make me somethin' to eat, like I asked ya?"

"No, Rocky, I have something downstairs for you to eat."

"Oh yeah? Like room service or breakfast in bed?"

"Something like that."

"Cool, cuz I'm really hungry."

Cordy looks at her funny. I don't think Rocky gets it. Been knocked on the head a few too many times, I think.

Cordy can sure pick 'em.

"Ladies and gents, our carriage is waiting," says Scarlett, sweeping her dress off the ground.

"By all means, Scarlett, show me the way," declares her Rhett.

"Oh Angel, I'd love to."

"Let's switch partners," Angel says quickly, grabbin' for Buffy.

Ronald laughs and grabs Angel by the back of his collar.

"Oh no, big boy, tonight you're mine."

"Buffy..." Angel whines, as Ronald drags him off.

"This is gonna be some fun night, huh, baby?" I ask B.

"Very interesting, to say the least," she agrees.

We walk to the limo and watch Angel open the door for his date. I wonder what's gonna happen?

Angel and Ronald?

Naaah.

"Baby, it hurts," whimpers Buffy.

"What, B? Too big?" I breathe, panting in her ear.

"No...ow...the towel rack."

I break it off.

"Faith!"

"What? It was hurting you," I kiss her again, movin' my tongue inside her mouth and pressing her hard against the wall.

I reach into my pocket and set the switch to 'On'.

"Ohhh, ohhh...baby," Buffy moans.

I went packin' tonight.

I wore my new Julia Ann Deep Thrusting Harness with remote control. I slipped the control into the inside of my jacket pocket and ran the cord up the side of my shirt. I hid it when I wore the jacket and had it slung over my shoulder.

Buffy had no idea.

But she does now.

"Oooh, oooh, baby, what is that??" I feel it too.

It's vibrating the fuck outta my clit. I thrust harder, it thrusts with me.

It vibrates AND thrusts on its own.

Perfect for those lazy nights. Not that we have any, but we might now. This fuckin' thing rocks!

"It's a present from Julia Ann," I murmur. I thrust again.

I put my arms under Buffy's knees, lifting her off the ground. She slams her head back and I suck on her neck. I move my hips and fuck her as she moans my name.

"Oh Faith...oh Faith, that feels good."

She tightens her arms around my shoulders and bends her head to kiss me. I tongue her up and she pulls at my hair.

I pull myself back and whisper in her ear:

"Yeah, baby? You like that? You like me fuckin' you in a public bathroom?"

She groans a 'yes'.

The party is in a warehouse downtown and it isn't far from Angel's. We found a bathroom on the other side of the building and took advantage of it.

Or I did, at least. Buffy really had to go to the bathroom.

She was washin' her hands when I got up behind her. I had the dick stickin' out of my fly and started rubbin' the crack of her ass with it. She looked at me in the mirror and said:

"Danny, is that you?"

"Yeah, Sandy. Only five inches of me, but watch what I can do with it."

Our toys are usually bigger. But like I mentioned, this one has some special features. It more than made up for its lack in length.

She had watched me as I rubbed the dick between her ass cheeks. The spandex was hot to look at, but annoyingly tight in this regard.

I could hardly slip it in there.

I bent my knees and thrusted forward. It slipped from her ass groove to her pussy and fit real nice between her thighs. She parted them a little.

"Here, Faith?" she asked my reflection.

"Yeah," I grunted in her ear. I started movin' my hips, causing more friction between her legs.

"Kiss me," she said, and she turned her face so I could.

"Yeah?" I said, asking for permission.

"Yeah," she replied.

I undid her buckle and then pulled down her pants. It was tight, but I managed just fine. I placed her hands on the sink and then pulled her back a little. She watched me in the mirror as I spit into my hand and rubbed it on the dick.

She shuddered.

I ran my fingers up her slit, spreading her open and spreading her moisture around. No lube, just her and my spit. I didn't want to hurt her.

I played with her clit for a moment and then slipped a finger inside her cunt. I moved it around and then stuck in another. I worked my fingers to open her up. When it gave a little, I slipped in another.

Buffy is as tight as a stubborn virgin on her wedding night.

If you didn't work her right, nuthin' was gettin in.

"Oh god, baby, that feels so nice. I can feel each of your knuckles inside me."

Now that's tight.

I took my fingers out and sucked on them; I spit in my hand again and rubbed it over her snatch.

"Put it in, baby," she breathed. Her head was down and she was breathin' in shallow gasps. It sounded so fuckin' sexy.

I bent my knees more and put the head of the dick to her hole. She pushed back and I shoved it inside of her. All five inches slid right in. I did a good job of opening her up.

"Oh god," she gasped louder.

Oh god, is right. But I told her:

"Yeah baby, but you can call me Faith."

I began thrusting myself hard into her. I reached around and grabbed her breasts and started massaging them roughly. She reached behind me and pulled my ass tighter to her.

She said:

"Pinch my nipples, baby...hard."

I pinched her nipples and she let out a small groan. Or a scream, I'm not sure, but it made me nuts.

"Buffy...look at me. Look at me in the mirror," I panted.

She did, and we kept eye contact while I fucked her and pinched on her nipples.

"You like that? You like gettin' fucked like a common tramp in a dirty warehouse?"

I said tramp, but I still didn't know if I went too far.

Buffy's not too keen on name calling.

Trust me, I know.

I've done it before, and let's just say she has ways of makin' you wish your tongue was someplace else.

Like back inside your mouth and not between her death-grip fingers.

She said:

"Shut up and fuck me, you worthless dick."

Well, alright then. Wheew.

I let go of her nipples and slid my hand to her pussy. I fingered her clit and she rocked back and forth against me.

I wanted something too, so I decided to turn on the juice.

"Come here," I said.

I slid myself out of her and pushed her against the wall. I shoved the dick back inside.

"Baby, it hurts."

That's when I tore the rack off the wall. And that's when I switched on the remote.

I decided to talk nasty again, but with no name calling. She is my baby, so baby was just fine.

No need to push my luck.

"Yeah, baby? You like that? You like me fuckin' you in a public bathroom?"

And she had groaned out a 'yes'.

"Your cunt feels nice and tight on my dick, baby, do you feel me? Do you feel me fucking your hot hole?"

"Yes," she breathes in my ear.

"Good. Now play with my nipples."

She reaches in between us and grabs hold with both hands. She rubs and then twists them.

"Oh fuck, Buffy...ride me," I groan.

I carry us over to the toilet seat. It has a lid, so I close it. I sit down on it and lean back against the tank.

I let the dick and Buffy do the work.

She plants both feet on the floor and raises herself off of the dick and then slides back down on it. The look on her face is sexy and raw, and she starts movin' at a faster pace. I hold onto her hips as I feel the dick's vibration and her thrusting hit against my clit. I know the length of the dick is vibrating against hers too.

It's a wonder dick.

I reach up and pull on her nipples, she reaches over and does the same to me.

"Rub the tips, baby," she breathes.

I do, and she starts to tremble.

"Almost, baby?" I groan. I'm barely holdin' on.

"All...most," She gets out. She better hurry, cuz I'm comin' soon.

"Oh god, oh god, oh god, OH GOD," she says suddenly.

That's it. I'm done for.

She throws her head back and grips onto my thighs. I can feel the orgasm rip through her and it takes me with her.

"Oh shit, Buffy!"

I hold onto her wrists and hit my head against the tank. The vibrating and thrusting dick just keeps movin' and it takes us both over the edge again.

"Oh my God!" We both yell.

It keeps goin' and we go again! Buffy yells at me.

"Baby, oh my god, stop it!"

"I'm not doin' it," I groan loudly.

"Turn it off...oh god, turn it off..." She collapses against my chest and is almost sobbing.

I can't reach the inside of my jacket.

"Baby...I...can't get...to it."

The fuckin' thing keeps goin'.

Buffy finally manages to lift her limp body from the dick and it sticks straight up, vibrating and thrusting into the air.

It would have been funny if it didn't make me come again.

"Oh shit...oh god...Buffy??" I beg her.

But she just stands there, bent over, hands on her knees, tryin' to catch her breath.

I force myself to reach into my jacket and rip the remote from my pocket. The batteries fly out and the dick finally stops. I jerk a bit and then lie still. I'm sprawled against the seat and tank and I must look like a Boy's Town tramp.

The only thing missing was the glory hole.

"Was...that...your...surprise?" Buffy asks panting.

"Mmm...hmmm."

"Did Tara...get one?"

Oh god, she did.

And we both laugh.

Sorta.

We still don't have much air in our lungs.

But we're laughin' on the inside.

Red wasn't kidding.

Both she and Tara were gonna see some real BIG stars tonight.

"Angel, sweetheart, come here."

"I'm busy, Ronald," is his reply.

Angel was holdin' court in a corner. He has a bevy of 'beauties' surrounding him. He was eatin' it up.

Ronald sighs.

"I suppose I knew this would happen."

"What, Scarlett?"

"Well, I was supposed to be the belle of the ball, but Angel stole all of my thunder."

We three look over at Angel, who does appear to be enjoying himself. We watch as he throws back his head and roars with laughter.

"And that cunt of a Jackson thinks Angel is gay. Good, let him. The bitch."

Oh, that drag queen holdin' onto Angel's arm must be Jackson. He's the host/hostess of the party. He's dressed as Marilyn Monroe too.

Half of him.

The other half is dressed like Marilyn Manson.

Really creepy looking.

"Well, don't be too surprised, Ronnie. Except for Buffy here, Angel is attracted to dead things, ya know."

"And Jackson pretty much has both sides covered," adds B.

"Well, that's okay. Angel will soon be bored with the Marilyns. Even if Angel decided to walk on the wild side, Jackson is not the perfect choice. Unless he likes his dates dead in the sack as well, and as motivated as a corpse."

"Experience talkin' there, Ronnie?"

"If you can call it that. It was more of a quick study on how to have sex with a lump of flesh. And a really boring lump of flesh at that."

"Sounds really sexy, Ronald. Does he have a sister?" I joke.

"Oh my god, Faith. Are you horny again?" Buffy asks.

Like she had to. Come on, it's me she's talkin' to. Duh.

"Only for you, baby. WithOUT the dick."

"Honey, without a dick there is no sex," says Ronald.

"You'd be surprised there, muffin. In fact-" He cuts me off.

"No, no, I believe you. No details, PU-LEASE." He holds up a gloved hand.

"Pussy," I tease him.

"Oh god, Buffy, control your woman."

"Behave yourself, Faith. Ronald has a delicate constitution."

He starts fanning himself to make Buffy's point.

"I was only callin' him one, B, not tellin' him about what I was gettin' in the bathroom earlier."

"Oh dear lord, which bathroom? I don't want to wander in there and find snail trails all over the place," He shudders.

"You mean like this?" I hold up my hand.

I'm kiddin' cus I did wash it, you know. I'm not that uncouth.

"Or this?" asks Buffy, holdin' up my other hand.

Oh, okay. Maybe I am. Just a little.

"Angel!" Ronald shouts, runnin' across the room.

"He's funny," Buffy says holdin' my hand.

"You're sexy," I say squeezing it.

"I know you are, but what am I?" She moves in for a kiss.

"Hungry and horny, right, baby? Let's go see what they got to eat in this place."

"You read my mind, baby. Let's go look."

And we wander off to find some food.

Angel is groaning, holdin' an ice pack to his head.

Cordy is clicking a pen and drumming her lacquered fingernails against the counter.

He winces with each noise.

"Come on, Cordy. Have a heart already."

"Got one, thanks. How about you?"

"Clever, Cordy. Did Faith trek back into town and get you a brain afterall?"

"X-nay on the trek-nay, little buddy...in other words, xtrek, Angel. I never went. She just got lucky."

"I'll say," says Buffy, "She's been getting lucky a lot lately."

"No kidding. What is that buzzing noise coming from your room?" Angel asks.

Cordy stops drumming her fingers.

"None of your business," she says flatly.

Cordy stands up and looks Angel in the eye. She lifts a large Demonolgy book and slams it down hard on the desk. Then she storms off. Still with the dramatic exits. Goof.

"Oww. What did I say?" Angel holds the ice pack tighter to his head.

"Musta struck a nerve," I joke.

"Angel, what's with the ice pack?" Buffy asks.

"He's got a 'love hangover'," Ronald pipes up.

He was sittin' on the couch towel drying his hair. He was freshly showered, having just had a vigorous work-out at the gym.

He looks pumped, flushed, and very masculine.

"You're a good lookin' muffin, you know that, Ronald?" I say.

"Well, thank you, baby. You're not so bad yourself," he smiles.

I snap my fingers, "Now I know who you look like!"

"Let me guess," he drolls.

"Okay."

"Brandon Lee."

"Yes!" Buffy exclaims with me. I guess she sees it too.

"Yeah, I know. I get that all the time. But he was Chinese-American, I'm Japanese-American."

"Whatever, Ronald, you're both hot!"

Angel peers over.

"Well, I'm glad SOMEONE thinks so," Ronald says, snubbing him.

"You shoulda gone as The Crow last night!" I tell him excitedly. I fuckin' love that comic. And the movie too.

"Honey, never again. I did it for two years straight and I promised myself I'd never do it again. All I got all night was cawing whenever I walked into a room. Who said all gay men were creative?" he sighs shakin' his head.

"Two years straight, Ronald? I thought you said there was nothing straight about you?" Angel tosses a funny.

Ronald ignores him.

"Anywaaaay. The reason Angel is 'hung-over' is because he let that bitch Jackson and his gaggle of fags fawn over him. They plied him with drinks all night, hoping to score."

"Did any of them get lucky?" B asks, kidding.

"The way Jackson tells it, they did."

"What?? That is so NOT true!" protests Angel.

"Talk to the finger," Ronald says, holding up his middle one.

"Ronald, it's not true! Why would you believe them??"

"Why wouldn't I?" He looks at Angel.

"Because they're all a bunch of liars. Surely you must know that?"

"I don't know, Angel. Jackson is pretty fierce in the sack and he has powers of persuasion, you know."

B and I look at Ronald. Dead-in-the-sack-and-as-motivated-as-a corpse Jackson?

He doesn't look at us. Then Angel says:

"I wouldn't know. And I don't care to know. He can be as fierce as you say he is, but he'd still be a jitterbug in a rug compared to you."

"What's that supposed to mean?" Ronald asks.

"That in the sack department, you'd probably step all over him."

"Well, too bad you'll never find out," Ronald huffs, then gets up to leave. He looks sideways at me and Buffy and winks.

Ahhhh. The old reverse psychology method. Classic.

Angel looks confused.

"That was supposed to be a compliment," he says quietly.

Ha! Fuckin' Ronald. Yeah, there's a bug alright. And it crawled right up Angel's ass. He may not be gay, but he definitely likes the fact that Ronald is.

And he wants Ronald to like him.

Poor Angel. He and Xander need to get girlfriends.

Or boyfriends. Whatever.

The phone starts to ring.

Angel picks up.

"Angel Investigations," he answers. "Oh hi, Giles. How are you? Do you want to speak to Buffy?"

He pauses for a moment, then looks at me.

"Oh. Well, do you want to speak to Faith then?"

He pauses some more.

"Oh," He puts the ice pack down and holds his hand over the receiver.

"He wants to talk to Ronald," he whispers, still listening to Giles.

"RONALD!" I yell at the top of my lungs.

Angel winces and gives me a scowl.

Heh heh.

Buffy elbows me, smiling.

"You rang?" he says from the top of the stairs.

"Phone," I nod at Angel.

"Oh," He fems it up and sashays down the stairs. When he's half way down, he butches it up and imitates my strut.

Bitch.

He smiles at me and takes the phone from Angel.

He ignores him too.

"Ronald, speaking."

He listens then says:

"Oh, Professor Higgins, how smashing of you to call. I've been practicing, listen..."

He clears his throat.

"The rain in Spain falls...wait a minute. How do you Brits spell rain? Is that R-A-I-N or R-A-I-N-N-E ? We yanks can be so crass, you know. Like 'theatre' or 'colour'. We never get that quite right now, do we? Oops, I mean 'spot on'."

Giles must not be amused, because Ronald's face changes from silly to serious. Oh-oh.

"So you've heard about it too. My cousin Chuckie has been phoning my source and he has gotten no answer. How bad is it?"

He looks at Buffy then quickly looks away.

Oh. London Calling.

"Of course. I can see your interest in this, Giles. It is your Slayer that will be going. I mean, maybe going," he quickly adds.

Buffy tenses up next to me. I take her hand and she squeezes it.

"It's okay, baby. I'm sure it's not as bad as it sounds. Relax, okay?"

"Okay."

But she's not really listening to me. She's tryin' to get her Slayer hearing in tune to what Giles and Ronald are actually saying.

I know, cus I've been doin' it myself.

Ronald senses this.

"Uh, listen, old chap. How about I call you from my cell? Yes, I have your number. Talk to you in a bit," He hangs up the phone.

He turns to us and puts on a cheerful face.

"Hey, how about them Dodgers?"

"Spill, Ronald," Buffy says. Her grip gets tighter on my hand.

I mean like, OUCH, tighter.

He looks at the seriousness of Buffy's demeanor and he relents.

"Okay," he sighs, "The Council informed Giles of the big evil that's moving around Europe and he wanted to know if I was planning on using Faith to investigate. You heard what I said."

"What's going on with your source?" Buffy asks, all business.

"Well, that's the thing, you see. Chuckie tells me he's been phoning London Lisa for two days now and he gets no answer. Just her machine that says she's away for the moment but to please leave a message."

"London Lisa?" Buffy asks.

"Yes, it's all very hush-hush. We go by location names."

"What's yours?" I ask.

"Bald Knob Buster."

"What?? Where's that?"

"In Arkansas."

"But you don't live in Arkansas, and your name's not Buster."

"I know."

"Oh."

"I'm the boss, I don't have to play by my rules."

"I see there, 'Boss'. What's my name?"

"Already got one for ya."

"Yeah, what is it?"

"Well, a few, actually, you pick."

"Okay."

"Here are the cities and states, you pick a name. Love Ladies, New Jersey. Rough and Ready, California. Oral, South Dakota. Beaver Lick, Kentucky. Finger, Tennessee. Beetown, Wisconsin. Gay Head, Massachusetts. Or Faith, South Dakota.

" 'Beetown'. Beetown Betty," I smile.

"You got it."

"I want one," Buffy says.

"Okay," smiles Ronald.

" 'Faith' is not going."

Oh shit, here we go.

"Baby, yes I am."

"I'm going with you then."

"No, you're not."

"Faith, wait. Don't be so hasty. Maybe she can come too. Let me talk to Giles about it," Ronald interrupts.

"I don't care what Giles says, she's not going. It's too dangerous."

Fuck.

"Thank you, Faith," Buffy looks at me.

"I meant it would be dangerous for every Sunnydale resident if you left."

"Nice try, 'Betty'."

"How long would they be gone for?" Angel asks.

"About two or three weeks. Tops. I don't want Faith to 'do' anything, per se, just check out what the source says and if there is a possiblity of the evil being transmutable."

"How would I know that?" I ask.

"We'd brief you on what to look for before you went. Different evils have different transmutation properties. Some can't be transmuted at all. But the bigger the evil, the more potential power we can harness. IF it's harnessable."

He smiles, it's not a real word, but I get him. Angel interrupts.

"Faith, you and Buffy have been on vacation for almost as long as that before. Plus, you plan on being here for a while. What's the difference?"

"There just is, Angel-eyes, okay?" Fuck, he's not helping.

"You guys, I really need to call Giles back. I took too long with the name game and he's probably freaking out.

The phone rings.

"See?" he says. He picks up the phone and says:

"Moshimoshi, House of Japanese Pork."

He holds the phone away from his head.

"Hmm. Dialtone. Wrong number, I guess," He laughs and takes his cell out of his pocket and heads outside.

"Oh," he says offhandedly as he walks past Angel, "Got a name for you too. 'Youwillbemine, Sogetoverit'. It's right next to Bum Fuck, Egypt. Look it up."

He's got the Brit thing goin' again.

That's English for Butt Fuck, Egypt, I think.

Buffy looks at me.

"This is not over."

Yeah. Like I thought she'd let this one slip past her.

Riiiight.

BUFFY'S POV :

"Faith, stop fishing for all the green M & M's," I watch her as she fingers the bag. She smiles at me and puts it down.

She's already got a big pile of them on a napkin in the middle of the table. She studies the pile and then plucks out a red one that has found its way into it. She hands it to Tara.

"Here, T. Mmmm...Red," She gives Tara a wink.

Tara smiles and puts it in her mouth.

"That's right, baby, suck on it, don't chew," Faith instructs.

Tara smiles big as she sucks on it.

"Okay, now after you get it all wet and ready, bite it a little, so you can get to the soft center."

She watches as she does this.

"Now, T. If you suck a little harder, it'll melt in your mouth real fast. But if you want to make it last for a while, then just run your tongue over it slowly, like this."

Her tongue slides slowly over her upper lip in a smooth up and down motion.

Mmm...I know that move. I love that move.

Willow groans.

"Baby, you can't hang out with Faith anymore. She's a bad influence. She's wicked, baby. A wicked, wicked Faith."

"What's so wicked, Willow? I didn't give her any green M & M's, I just gave her a 'red' one," Faith says innocently, "I'm just showin' her the proper way to eat them," she adds.

"You've shown her too many things already."

"Aw, come on, Red. I can't help it if Tara's a quick learner. You should be happy, you're the one reaping from it."

"But you're not telling her everything. You leave things out. I think that's key, Faith, that's key."

They're referring to the other day. After Faith and I got back from the costume party, they were already in their room. We heard buzzing and moaning and figured they had discovered Julia Ann's special toy. Which was fine, until we didn't see them come out of their room the entire next day.

Cordy was the one who brought it to our attention.

"God dammit!!" we had heard her shout.

We looked to the top of the stairs and saw Cordy limping.

"Do they think this is a hotel or something? They keep leaving their pizza boxes and coke cans in the hallway by the door. I'll be damned if they expect me to polish their shoes next too."

"Red and T are still in their room?" Faith asked.

"Uh, Hello! Like all day long," Cordy said rubbing her ankle.

"And they haven't stepped out once?" I asked confused.

"No, not once. They even make me bring the pizzas and sodas up to them. I guess I shouldn't complain too much, cuz at least they slip me the money under the door."

"Under the door? They don't even open it for you?" Faith was grinning.

"I thought they went to A Different Light Bookstore. They said they wanted to go today," I was still confused.

"Baby, I guess they found better things to do. I mean, even an enema is better than goin' to a bookstore," Faith told me quite seriously.

"Baby, I don't think they're doing that, but there's books on that too."

"Oh. Well, why didn't anyone tell me?"

She was kidding that time. I mean, we do like anal...like those butt-beads she got us...but an enema is a whole other story.

But those beads...

"Baby, you want me to go look?" Faith asked, taking me out of my reverie.

"No, Faith. I'm sure if they needed us they'd call."

Then the phone rang.

"Ha. That's funny, B."

"It's probably them wanting another pizza. You answer it," Cordy said.

I went to answer it.

"Hi, Willow...Oh, okay, sure. Hold on a sec," I looked at Faith, "They want you to come up."

"Woooo-hooooo! Three's Company. You okay with that, baby?"

"Eew, gross, Faith," Cordy said, making a face.

"What she said," I concurred, and hung up the phone. I wondered why they wanted Faith and not me?

"Spoiled sports," Faith said, sprinting up the stairs. A few moments later we heard a loud burst of laughter.

Then Faith came out of the room. She stood at the top of the stairs and then collected herself.

"Uh, Cor. You know where Angel keeps his tools?"

"Toolbox, under the sink."

"Thanks."

She sprinted down the stairs and didn't look at us. A few moments later she sprinted back up.

I looked at Cordy.

"Beats me," she shrugged.

We waited. Cordy looked through her date book. I tapped my foot. Cordy penciled something in. I tapped my other foot. Cordy erased something. I began to pace, stopping every so often to tap my foot.

She looked at me and sighed.

"Oh, go find out."

I ran up the stairs.

I got to Will and Tara's room just as Faith was coming out.

She was backing out quietly and she had one of those 'surgical' dust masks around her neck. She closed the door and looked at me.

"Are you a relative?" she asked in a deep soap opera voice.

"What?"

"Are you a relative?" she asked again.

I played along.

"Yes, I'm her sister."

"Well, you'll be happy to know the operation was a complete success. She's resting, but you can go see her now."

I looked at her curiously, but she just nodded her head.

I opened the door and heard Willow yell from the bathroom.

"NOT funny, Faith. Get back in here, you're not done!"

I poked my head inside and saw Tara standing in front of Willow, who was sitting on the toilet. And by the sound of it, she was peeing like she hadn't gone in years. She was also muttering something under her breath.

I tuned in my hearing.

"I said we should have gotten BUFFY, but noooo, Tara, you said Faith would understand more. Now look what she did."

"It c-could be worse, Willow," Tara said, tearing off some toilet paper and handing it to her.

"How? Now everyone is going to know."

"You could still be handcuffed to the bed frame, having to pee, instead of being handcuffed to me."

I felt Faith put her hand on my shoulder and she pulled me out, closing the door behind us.

"I think that's enough excitement for one day. They need their rest now. Would you like to have a cup of coffee in the cafeteria?"

So Willow was still a little sore about it. Faith had actually convinced me to leave them that way for a while.

See, this doctor made house calls and had a wonderful bedside manner. In fact, she's the only gynecologist that I ever looked forward to seeing again.

"Relax, Red. It all turned out okay. How was I to know Tara would take the 'kitten in handcuffs' seriously?"

Tara reaches for a green M & M.

"If these make you horny, do Reese's Pieces make you randy?"

"Gonna have to ask Giles about that, T. Or maybe we could slip a few in his Earl Grey tea and find out."

"Please don't. I'd rather you asked ET. Giles and candy are not a good combination," I say, shuddering.

"Wanna ask your mom about that, B?"

"No, Faith. An emphatic no."

"Okay," she grins.

We hear Cordelia breathe sexy into the phone:

"I miss you too, lover. But it's still Gay Pride and I haven't had my fill yet...of course I'll call you the minute it's over...okay, I'll ask her," she holds the phone to her breast, "Faith, Frenchie wants to know if you want him to send over some horse meat with Angel's goat blood."

"Yeah, sure," Faith says absent-mindedly. She's talking with Tara.

"Would you like some sauce with that?"

Faith doesn't answer.

"Helloooooo," Still nothing.

"Hello! Faith! Boreanaz??"

Boreanaz? God, her French is worse than mine.

"Bernaise, Cordy, and no, I don't think she wants the horse meat OR the sauce. Enough already."

Cordy gives me a look and so does Faith. She reaches over and takes my hand.

"Baby, I know they're just playin', don't be so hard on Cordy."

She's right. And now I feel bad.

"Sorry, Cor," She smiles her understanding and nods her head.

I couldn't help it. It was a knee-jerk reaction.

I was so afraid the next thing out of her mouth would be something about snails.

Because even though Faith had done a good job collecting herself in the restaurant bathroom, I still knew the whole story.

When she had first started to tell me about her life, she was aloof and detached. Like she didn't want me to pity her and that it really didn't matter.

But I knew it did matter, and it mattered a lot.

She said her mom was a drunk, plain and simple. And all the guys that they shacked up with were jerks. But she still wanted to believe her mom had loved her, and that she had looked out for Faith the best way she could. You could tell by some of the phrases she used when describing her mom or the way she was brought up.

Even some of the jerks they had lived with.

"He wasn't a violent man," she told me once.

But this man put his fist through walls and put a strap to Faith any time he got angry.

"But he never hit my mom," was her reasoning, "And I probably deserved it, cuz I made too much noise or stayed up too late."

Her concept of violence is severely distorted.

A fist through a wall...an 'accidental' trip down the stairs...a grown man screaming so closely to a twelve year old's face that it became covered with spit...

...and not caring if she ate or if she didn't.

When I think about it, I could just scream. But...

All non-violent acts, according to Faith. All non-violent.

And it scared me to think what the violent ones did.

But I didn't say anything. Because I knew if I did, she'd stop talking.

She thought her mom shacked up with these jerks so she could put a roof over Faith's head. That if it wasn't for Faith, her mom could probably have had a normal life and not be stuck with the kind of men that would put up with another guy's brat.

In Faith's opinion, it was her fault. She was always doing something wrong. She was a burden and the real reason for their crappy life. She believed her mom loved her and had sacrificed herself for her child; like all good mothers do.

Even the fucked up ones, she said.

But that was her own opinion. Her mom never told her that. In a way, maybe Faith's right. Maybe her mom did love her.

But she certainly had no business raising a child.

So with the snails she finally did something right. She protected them, she said, and made them happy. She said all she ever wanted to do was to make them happy.

But I knew she meant her mom.

And that's why she ate them. She ate them to keep her mom happy, to keep her from crying—possibly beaten—and to keep a roof over their heads.

That's a lot of responsibility for a twelve year old kid.

And a skinny twelve year old kid at that.

Faith lived on cereal and Jiffy Pop. Most of the money went to alcohol. It's no wonder she eats the way she does today.

I'm a Slayer too, and even I can't eat that much.

But the snails. My baby's snails.

They were her knights in shining armor. Or shells, in this case.

I think that's why she chose that last name as her fake one in Vegas. I told you, for all of her rough exterior, Faith is a true romantic at heart.

All chivalry and damsels in distress. When she was the actual one in distress.

But no one was there to protect her, so she became the protector.

Psychology 101, remember? I know these things.

But like with all things in life, one can finally become jaded.

A betrayal here, another one there, and pretty soon you do have an armor on and it's not about protecting someone else, it's about protecting you.

And you just don't care anymore.

"No, you don't get it, I don't care," she told me once.

But I knew she cared about what happened to Alan and it confused me. So I badgered her, trying to convince her that she really did.

But it only drove her away.

She lied and then went to the first person who would accept her that way and would still give her a ration of kindness.

No matter how twisted that relationship was.

See, I screwed up.

I screwed up because I made her my 'responsibility' and no one wants to think that they're that. She had felt that way her entire life, and she wasn't having it.

And definitely not from me.

She only wanted love from me, and friendship.

So now we have another chance and I am ultra protective of her feelings.

She's my mate, not my burden. My mate of my mind, of my bed, of my heart and my soul.

And we're Chosen.

Can't really get any more specific than that now, can you?

"B?"

"Yeah, baby?"

"You got that look on your face again. You thinkin' about your snail in shining armor?"

See? She knows me.

"Just a little."

She's not the only one who can lie.

"You done now?"

"Yeah, baby. I'm done now."

"Good, cus the only snails I want you to think about are the kind that makes poor Ronald hurl."

"Okay, baby."

She smiles at me.

"I love you, Buffy."

"I love you, Faith."

And then Willow beans me on the forehead with a green M & M.

The witch.

"Baby, hold still," I tell Faith. She's fidgeting.

"I can't believe you're doin' this to me."

"Don't be such a baby, this is fun."

She's got her hair in a towel and a mud mask on her face.

And I'm attempting to paint her toenails.

"NO! No separation of the toes."

I hold the separator in my hand and look at her.

"You won't let me use cotton balls and you refuse to hold still. What do you want me to use?"

"Your ASS."

I roll my eyes. She's such an idiot. That's her answer for everything tonight.

It's either Your ASS or My ASS.

For instance.

"Faith, what do you want to eat tonight?"

Answer: "Your ASS."

Or

"Faith, where do you want me to put this?"

Answer: "My ASS."

But this one just doesn't make sense.

"Faith, stop being an ASS and spread your toes."

She does and then says:

"Look at my toes, B...Look at my toes!"

I look at her toes.

She's got them all separated and gnarled up. Like how your toes look when you get a charley horse in your foot.

"Baby, why are you doing that?"

"That's just my feet, B. And now you wanna draw attention to them? That's really fucked up, B."

"You still need professional help, baby. But it's your mind that's twisted, not your toes. Now stop it," I smack her toes with the separator.

"Yes, Mistress Manicurist," She relaxes her toes.

"Pedicurist, but that's next."

"No fuckin' way, B. Not my fingernails too!"

"The works, Faith. You promised me a girls night together and I'm holding you to it."

"Yeah, well you tricked me again. If I knew a 'girls night together' was gonna be this, I'da never gone for it."

"But you did, so too late. Separate those toes...NOW!"

She raises her eyebrow and spreads them.

I see I'm going to have to make this sexy. Why didn't I think of that before?

Man, I still suck at planning.

"Just be still and see, okay?" I tell her. I got my sexy tone on.

She likes that.

"Okay," she says quietly.

Boy, what a difference.

I reach over and get the avocado body lotion. It's the edible kind, like the peach soap we have. It leaves you clean and tasty too.

I found it on the net. Thank you, Willow.

I squirt some lotion on my hands and rub them together. She watches me as I stroke my fingers and get in between them.

This should be easy. She thinks everything I do is sexy -

She belches.

- unlike her.

"Sorry, baby."

I give her a look, but continue to rub lotion on my hands. I work over my wrists and then up to my elbows. I reach down to get more lotion on my hands and she moves her foot closer to me.

But I don't go there. Not yet.

Instead, I let my robe fall open and look down at myself in mock surprise. I raise my eyelashes slowly and give her a shy look.

Faith, god bless her. She falls for it.

Eyeballing my open robe, she lifts her chin up, moving it to motion to my breasts.

She wants me to go there. Well, of course she does.

So I do.

I apply the lotion onto my breasts. Slowly and lovingly...taking my time and working each nipple.

They're hard.

Her foot inches closer.

I put more lotion in my hands and suddenly her foot is in my lap. Toes spread and the big one moving.

It gestures to my breasts.

I place my hand under her heel and raise her foot up to me. She slides down a little on her back and lets me rub it over my chest.

Lets me. Right.

I'm not doing anything actually. Her toes are doing it all.

I squirt more lotion into my hand and slather it onto her foot. She brings her other one towards it; rubbing and spreading the lotion over each of them. And then she rubs both of them onto my breasts.

She's got some talented feet, I tell you.

She's like a monkey. Prehensile toes.

I start to moan a little. Her toes and my nipples are making a love connection.

SHE starts to snigger a little.

"What's so funny, Faith?"

"Sorry, baby. This is sexy and all that, but I keep feeling like we're two of The Go-Go's or something."

"Well, we always knew two of them were gay," I tell her, rubbing her feet over my breasts with my hands.

" 'Our lips are sealed', huh, baby?" she smiles.

" 'We got the beat,' " And without missing one, I take an avocado toe and stick it in my mouth.

"Ooh," she moans. Mmm...back on track.

I take her big toe and suck on it a little. I run my tongue in between it and the next one. Then I suck again.

Not hard, just a wet little pulling motion with my tongue and mouth. Never done this before, I mean, hello, hairy boy toes and all, but Faith doesn't have that problem.

"Hmm, baby," She wiggles her butt on the bed.

Her other foot is still rubbing against my breast. She pulls a nipple between two toes and then rubs the tip with all of them.

I wonder if she's done this before...

I wonder if she's done this before!

"No, baby. Only with you," She either read my mind or saw the look on my face. I relax.

"Really?"

"Um, yeah, cuz it's kinda lame."

Oh. And here I thought I was someone special...

Oh!

"It's LAME?"

"Uh, yeah. Sorta."

Okay, Buffy. You will not get mad. Promise.

It's LAME??

"YOU'RE lame," Okay, so sue me.

"Don't get mad, B. I'm just sayin'."

"Oh, I hear what you're saying, Faith, trust me."

I put her feet on the bed and head into the bathroom.

"B, where ya goin'?"

Where does it look like I'm going? Skiing?

"Skiing, Faith. I suddenly felt the urge. I'm lame like that."

I know. That was pretty lame.

But whatever. I'm pissed.

"Buffy, come on. We can do toe things if you like."

"Great, stick'em up your ASS then, Faith."

"I would, baby, but I already have my head up there, so there's no room. Come on, B. Come back."

"No."

I walk into the bathroom and turn on the bath.

Lame.

She's lame. I'm not lame.

I mutter under my breath and take off my robe. I get into the tub and lean back as the water begins to fill.

I look at my toes.

Faith painted them, and I had no problem.

Even when she painted each one a different color.

I know how to have fun. I know how to "find the fun".

Lame. I don't believe her.

"You need to find the fun!" I yell at her from the bathtub.

I'm still muttering under my breath when I see movement from the corner of my eye. I look toward the doorway and I see Faith tip-toeing by.

Just like a cartoon burglar. Except she's naked, with a green mask and a towel on her head.

Then she comes back the other way.

Elbows down, forearms up, and her wrists dangling in front of her.

On tip-toes.

"Faith, what are you doing?"

She keeps tip-toeing past the doorway and back.

"Trying to find some fun, B. But I can't find any. Think I can steal some from you?"

I told you she's lame.

We're not only The Chosen Two, but we're Two Of A Kind. Another John Travolta and Olivia Newton-John movie. I think we may have a theme going.

"Baby, stop being a dork and get in here with me."

And she's in the tub with a splash.

"Can I steal a kiss?" she asks, and then she does.

Want. Take. Have.

But at least she asks now. We're still working on the waiting-for-the-answer part.

See, living with Faith is like house-breaking a puppy.

You worry about carpet stains, but you don't really want them to ever grow up.

So you live with the stains. Puppies are so cute.

I push my lips hard into hers and I kiss her.

"What was that, B?"

"I'm stealing it back."

"Thief," she smiles.

"Buzz kill," I respond.

"I got an idea, baby. Wanna hear it?"

Let me guess.

"Let's go dancing!" she grins.

Hmm. Close, but no cigar.

"You thought I was gonna say sex, huh?"

"Pretty much," I tell her.

"Later, baby. You're such a horn dog. Let's do something different for a change."

Who is she kidding? Dancing is like sex to her.

But it better be safe sex.

"Okay, baby. But no look-a-likes with tackle near their teeth."

"I wouldn't dream of it."

I splash water on her face.

"Okay, okay," she laughs, "I won't do it, either."

She pulls me up and kisses me. She says:

"You ready for some real 'fun' now, baby?"

My idea of fun may seem lame in comparison.

But I'll get those toes.

She's gotta sleep sometime.

"Faith, what's your hurry??" I'm gripping onto the passenger door armrest.

She's looking over her shoulder, flooring the car in reverse.

"Fucking valet thinks he's taking that last space."

I look out my window and see several valet attendants jump out of the way. She gets into the space narrowly, beating the other car by an inch.

The valet blares the horn at us.

"Blow me, Mary," then she blows him a kiss.

"Faith, it's his job. He's supposed to do this."

"Did you check out that line, B? I don't wanna wait in it forever."

As if anyone else does.

The car squeals off, making the other attendants leap back again. It's a dangerous occupation. I wonder if they get hazard pay?

We get out of the car and one of the attendants approaches us. Faith tosses him the keys and says:

"Keep your eye on the ride, and there's a fifty in it for ya."

The guy grins, nodding his head.

We're driving Ronald's other car. His Mercedes Lorinser.

It's really nice.

He's got the company limo and is doing the town up in style.

Not that the Benz is anything to sneeze at. Not at $200,000.

I wanted to drive it, pointing out to Faith how well I drove the Cruiser and how this was an automatic transmission as well.

She just said:

"You're right, baby. You're a good driver. But not tonight."

I know what it is. Appearances. She's got a really fine ride and another one sitting next to her.

She's such a show-off.

She takes my hand and struts up to the back of the line.

I anticipate her next action.

"Hey, howya doin'?" she asks the girls in line.

"Fine," "Great," and a few that just stare.

She really looks hot tonight. They're tongue-tied.

I smile and hold her hand tighter.

Mine.

"Been out here long?" she asks them conversationally.

"Like an hour," one says, then she blushes.

"That's pretty fucked up. Is it really packed in there or something?"

"That's what we heard. But to keep it from overcrowding, they only let people in when people come out."

Faith looks at the five girls.

"Come with me," she says to them.

They don't even ask, they just follow.

And off of a cliff, I imagine, if she led them there.

Lemmings.

We all pass the long line of women waiting to get inside. And as usual, we get looks. But now there are more of us, so I feel less self-conscious. There's safety in numbers.

"Hey, sweetheart. You're lookin' good tonight. I got five special friends and my girl and me. Think you can cut us a break?"

The girl behind the counter looks at Faith and then at me.

Faith slides her a C-note.

"Okay. But this is for your girlfriend and you. The others have to pay."

"No, baby. We'll pay too. Keep that for your troubles."

Faith peels back another hundred and then pulls us aside.

"Think you can take it from here?" she asks the five girls.

"Uh...well...um...yeah. Thanks," one stammers.

"Cool. Happy Gay Pride to ya," And she holds up her hand in a fist.

She's so full of herself. I swear, she thinks she's such a badass.

One of the girls smiles shyly at Faith. Faith gives her a wink, but then she kisses my cheek and nuzzles my ear.

But at least she's a faithful badass.

We had heard the music from outside, but now inside it was almost deafening. My Slayer hearing only added to it all.

I hope I don't get a headache.

"Baby, don't worry. If your head hurts, I'll rub it later. You know how much you like that."

"Why doesn't your head ever hurt?" I ask her.

"Oh, it does, B. I kinda like it though."

Her thick skull must help keep the pain down. Or something.

"Let's get some drinks, baby, then I wanna dance!"

She starts her way through the throng of women, pulling me behind her. We are careful not to push into people, but the crowd is making it impossible.

We find ourselves pressed up to many of them while passing.

Besides Faith, I've never really felt another woman's breasts pressed into mine before. Well, except at the Bronze with Cordelia.

But that was intentional, and this time it isn't.

It's an odd, yet not entirely unpleasant sensation.

And there are just so many of them.

"Oh, sorry," "Excuse me," "So sorry", I say passing.

"Whooops!" I say surprised. Faith looks back at me.

"What's up, B?"

"Um...I think someone just grabbed my ass."

"So grab back, it's Gay Pride," And she turns herself around and continues to lead me.

Well, that's nice and all.

But if she thinks I'm going to afford her the same courtesy, she's got another think coming.

We finally make it to the end of the club. There is another bar over to the right of this one, but it's up a few stairs and through many more people.

I really don't think my ass can take it.

Faith charms her way into the front.

A few minutes later, she turns around with three long-necks between her fingers and a Stoli and cranberry in a tall glass for me.

"Look, it comes with a prize," she tells me.

I know. It's stupid, but I like umbrellas.

Even with a long-neck, but then I can't drink it.

"Thank you, baby," I say and she kisses me, smiling.

We move away from the bar and look for a place to sit. It's so packed, it's ridiculous. I think we'll be standing all night.

"Over here!" we hear someone shout.

"Over HERE!" comes the shout again.

We look over and see that it was directed at us.

From the go-go dancer on top of a high platform.

Faith looks at her and then points to us. The girl nods her head and gestures us over. We get below her platform and she looks down to us and yells:

"Put your drinks and your asses down here. There's room."

There is an area below the platform where a giant speaker is. Luckily, it's pointed in the other direction.

"Can you handle it, B?" Faith yells.

"I'll try, baby."

If not, I could always go stand somewhere and get groped.

No. On second thought, here was better.

Faith looks up at the go-go dancer above us.

Super cute, super tiny, and super good.

And that girl could move!

"Fuck, baby. I wish I could move like that," she yells to me.

"Are you kidding, Faith? You can," I yell back.

"Nah, not like that."

I look up at the girl.

Oh. Maybe not.

But then I've never seen Faith on a pole before.

The platform was high and had a pole down the middle of it. It ran up to the tall ceiling above.

And the girl was crawling up it.

She gets to the top and then slides all the way down its length.

She immediately begins to move and grind, her hips moving in circles as she turns herself around, arms circling her head.

"Nice, huh, baby?" Faith yells admiringly.

"Doesn't suck," I yell, agreeing.

We look up at the girl as she stops to unholster a gun of sorts and then shoots it into the air above the dance floor.

Various colored streamers and confetti rain down upon the multitude below. A loud HOOOOOOOO comes from the crowd and then another blast from another gun and then another and then another.

All four corners of the club had go-go girls and all shot off rounds consecutively.

The crowd goes bananas.

We watch as our go-go girl points her gun at the girl across from her, and then that go-go points her gun to the one next to her, and she to the one across from her, and last points her gun to our girl.

Then they all blow at the end of their barrels and re-holster their guns at the same time.

And then they dance.

"Baby, that was wicked hot," Faith whispers in my ear.

"It was, baby," I say smiling.

We watch the crowd and witness all the happy women dancing and mingling. It was pretty overwhelming. So many women, so little time.

It's raining women...Hallelujah!

"Oh, shit. Baby, come on!" Faith says grabbing my hand. She leads me through the sea of breasts and onto the dance floor.

She is pushing her way through so fast, I don't even have time to excuse myself to the women that I bump into.

So I let myself get fondled along the way.

I mean, it's the least I could do.

Faith pulls me next to her and then motions to two women dancing nearby. She winks at me and then leaves me to inch herself closer to a small blonde dancing with a taller brunette.

Faith gets right up behind her and starts to grind. The girl pushes back into Faith and doesn't even look behind her!

Then Faith's hands snake around the girl and begins massaging her breasts. And the girl lets her!

What is going on?? This girl better not have a fish-hook in her mouth!

Suddenly the blonde's dance partner throws out a hand and smacks her across the face. The blonde looks back at her stunned.

"Fuck, Cordy, what was that for? This is Gay Pride for cryin' out loud!"

Cordy???

Faith spins the smaller girl around and picks her up, holding her in her arms.

"You FUCKER!" the girl yells laughing. She starts kissing Faith all over her face.

It's Jayme.

Jayme from Las Vegas and she's dancing with Cordelia.

She's dancing with Cordelia??

"Funny, Faith. Get your hands off my date, and WHY do you know each other??" Cordelia yells above the music.

I press my way closer and suddenly feel a hand slide in between my legs. I lose my footing and practically fall into Cordelia's arms.

These girls are friendly.

My god!

"No thanks, Buffy. I have a date already. If Faith will ever release her," Cordy says steadying me.

Faith releases Jayme, and now Jayme is all over me.

But at least I know her.

Sorta.

"Buffy! I'm so happy to see you!" she says excitedly. She puts her tongue in my mouth.

Fuck it.

I kiss her back.

"Whoooa, whoooa there, Miss Thing. That's enough now," Faith says laughing. She pulls me off of Jayme.

I mean, I wasn't really on her or anything.

Not really, just...sorta.

"It's Gay Pride, Faith, remember?" I tell her grinning.

"Yes baby, and I can see how proud you are. Just take it easy now, okay?"

What a stick in the mud. It was her idea to begin with.

I'm kidding.

I'm with the hottest girl in here, why would I want anyone else?

I was just playing.

Sometimes it's really fun to be a girl!

"Faith, Buffy, explanation, please."

Cordy is waiting for an answer.

"Oh, we go way back," teases Faith.

"Waaaay back," smiles Jayme, putting her arm around Faith.

Uh, hello? Excuse me, Jayme, but that's my girlfriend you're hugging on.

What about me?

I slide my arm around Jayme too.

Jayme grins and Cordy looks less than amused.

"Oh, I see. 'Three's Company', I suppose."

"Okay," Jayme smiles, not knowing what she means.

I give Cordy a break. She looks upset.

"No, Cor. We met Jayme in Vegas when we saw Blondage," I tell her.

And now she really looks upset.

"Oh, her again," And she elbows her way off the dance floor.

"Ah, geez," Jayme sighs, "I guess I better go after her."

"What's her trauma?" Faith asks.

"Janine. She's jealous. Cordy's the girl I told you about, the one that insisted I bring a gift on our date."

"You didn't," Faith grins.

"Oh, yes I did. I even left her extra batteries."

"So you're the tuba playing she-moose!"

Jayme laughs.

"Well, not really. I brought the power dong, the other girl brought the attitude. I guess I'd be moaning too, if someone preferred a silicone toy over me."

Jayme tells us that Cordy left the girl to take care of herself, while Jayme took care of Cordy with Janine's version of the wonder dick.

"Well, that musta sucked for that girl...but let me tell you, Jayme, Cordy must be on her second case of batteries by now. We hear it hummin' every night," Faith grins.

"What? She's such a liar! She told me she wouldn't touch it since it had Janine's name attached to it, and that the only way she would was if I was attached on the other end!"

"That's our Cordy, Jayme. She'll say anything to get what she wants," Faith grins appreciatively.

"And I guess that would be me. It's kinda fucked up, but it's also kinda flattering. I think I'll go surprise her. I have a few more toys she might like."

She gives us both a kiss and pushes her way through the crowd, looking for one pissed off and very jealous Cordy.

"Make sure it's not a Janine toy!" Faith calls after her.

"Nah, no worries," she yells over her shoulder, "It's Julia Ann's!"

"Like that will be any better," Faith grins to me.

"Did you get a Janine toy?" I ask Faith.

"I sure did, baby."

"Then let me be the judge of that," I smile, sexy.

"Judge, jury and executioner, baby. Count on it."

She's got that right.

I will be the one executing it.

On her surprised and happy ass.

She'll see.

"Oh fuck, Buffy. This is intense," Faith groaned loudly.

She was referring to the heat.

I had left Faith sprawled naked upon the bed. The heat was intense and she had wanted me to turn the ac on.

I told her no.

And she was too drunk to argue.

After many dances, drinks, and Faith taking a spin on the go-go pole, we had decided to come back to the hotel.

And since she was ripped-to-the-tits drunk, I got to drive home. The ride was as smooth as I expected it to be, but I knew this next ride would be even smoother.

And cooler.

I had decided to postpone my attack on Faith's rear for my other plan. Summers in L.A. are sticky and hot, and tonight was no exception.

Except this 'Summers' in L.A. was planning on making Faith even stickier.

The hot part was a no-brainer.

I grab my secret stash from the freezer and stick them inside an ice bucket. Not perfect, but it will do.

See, Janine and Julia Ann may have their own line of toys now, but I'll never forget the first toy they played with.

Like I said, it's not perfect. But necessity is the mother of invention.

I smile at my own cleverness.

"Look at me, I'm Sandra Dee, lousy with in-gen-u-ity..." I sing to myself.

"We'll fuck ourselves red, 'til we're legally dead..."

No.

"From A up to Zed, we'll do all in that bed..."

No.

Oh, fuck it.

"Hey look, I'm Sandra Dee!"

I really am quite pleased with myself. And I don't even care that I can't find a good rhyme for this situation.

Oh, Danny. Sandy has got a big surprise for you too.

A Big Stick surprise.

When I get back into the room, I see Faith moaning and writhing on the bed. And not in the sexy way either.

In the whiny way.

"Buffy...it's hot," she whines. She thrashes around some more to make a dramatic point.

Not as dramatic as my point will be.

"Sshhh, baby. I got us some ice to cool us down. Won't that be nice?" I ask her soothingly.

"I want ac-eeeee," she complains with her eyes closed.

"It's broken," I lie.

"Noooooooooo," she complains again.

I put the bucket on the bed and take off my clothes. I crawl in next to her.

"Come here, baby," I tell her, she rolls over into my arms. I take an ice-cube and slide it around her back.

"Mmmmmm," she muffles into my breasts.

"Isn't that nice, baby?" She nods her head a little.

I move the dripping cube over her side and down to her ass.

I bring it back up as it melts. I rub the water on her and then reach for another cube. I do the same thing and then she moves back a little so I can reach in between us. I circle her nipples with it as they begin to pucker and then I run the rest up to her lips. She takes it from my fingers and sucks on the sliver.

"Uh," she grunts. She wants more.

So I give her more. Across her chest and up her neck, over her chin and into her mouth. She sucks on my finger as she takes it from me.

The heat from her mouth and the cold cube are fighting each other and it plays across my finger, sending a shiver through me. Faith bends her head and takes my nipple in her mouth.

She's drunk, but she's not dead.

"Ohh," I moan. Her hot mouth and ice cold tongue engulf my nipple, making it as hard as the ice itself.

Or maybe not.

Because the ice was beginning to melt as she used her tongue to run it against me.

The ice soon disappears and she opens her mouth for another piece. Her eyes are still closed, so I put the cube in my mouth and then kiss her with it.

"Hmm," she moans softly. Our tongues do a dance and the ice melts between them.

I push her down gently onto the sheets and whisper in her ear.

"Keep your eyes closed, okay, baby? Do that for me?" She nods, running her cold tongue across her lips.

I put several pieces of ice in my mouth and kiss my way down her body. I stop to open my lips and let my tongue swirl the pieces onto her skin. Inch by inch, I creep lower and lower. Stopping only to add more ice in my mouth.

I look up and her nipples are hard and she has goose-bumps all over her flesh. No ac needed. Just some ice and a tongue.

What can I say? I'm an old fashioned kind of girl.

I work my tongue and a mouthful of ice down her body. I stop when I get to her pussy. My tongue is still cold and I have a few slivers of ice left in my mouth.

I breathe onto her opening as I open her with my fingers. Her clit retracts as I place my cold tongue on it.

"Ohhh," she moans. She shifts herself on the bed and reaches for my hair.

"That's nice, B," she whispers.

I run my cold stiff tongue up and down her slit. I stop to nibble on her hard clit. The ice melts in my mouth and I reach for some more.

I place a cube inside of her.

"Oh fuck, baby..." She wiggles a little.

I reach into the bucket and take two more cubes out. I palm them in my hands and reach up to caress her breasts, running the ice over her nipples.

She's 100 percent goose-bumps.

"Is that too much, baby?" I ask her.

"No, B. Give me more," she answers.

So you know that I do.

I take one hand away from her breast and reach inside the bucket for the Big Stick popcicle.

Blue for her and pink for me.

But I just grab for the blue one.

"Keep your eyes closed, okay?" I remind her. I peel off the plastic wrapper on the pop.

She nods her head. My baby likes surprises too, and she's about to get one.

I remove my other hand from her breast, pinching her nipple on the way. I bring it down to her pussy and open her with it and stick my tongue inside her snatch. I work it in and out as she thrusts softly against me.

My cold tongue starts to warm up from the heat of her pussy and I move it back up to her clit.

I stop for a moment to give head to the Big Stick, making it wet and easier to manage. I don't want it adhering to her skin like a tongue on a frozen flag pole.

I lick back at her clit and gently stick the popcicle inside of her. Slowly, carefully, not wanting to shock her from the temperature.

She pushes down into the mattress with her hips.

"Oh, baby...that is so intense," she gasps.

I push the stick into her more, moving it in and out, going inside of her hot snatch deeper with each fluid movement.

Soon the entire thing is sliding in and out of her with ease. She begins to rock her hips.

I lick at her clit.

"Oh fuck, oh fuck," she groans.

And I do.

I lick at her clit and around her hole as her lips close around the popcicle. I taste the sticky sweetness and bring some of the juice back up to her clit. I spread it around with my tongue and she squirms a bit more on the bed.

"Oh god, Buffy, you need to feel this," she says grabbing at the Big Stick.

"No, baby. Take the other one," I murmur, pushing the stick deeply inside of her.

She sits up partially and looks at the bucket. She grins as she takes the wrapper off the cicle.

"Come here, baby."

I leave the popcicle inside of her as we adjust ourselves. She postions us so that we are lying side by side in a 69 position. I watch her as she licks the Big Stick and then goes down on it.

She takes it all. Down to her fingers that's holding the wooden stick.

My girl musta made a lot of boys happy.

She slurps a little then throws her leg around my neck, pulling me close into her body and drawing my face against her pussy.

She's not shy. She knows what she wants. And so do I.

I throw my leg around her neck too.

She slides the Big Stick into my hole and I gasp.

I, at least, 'warmed' her up for the surprise with some ice-cubes before sticking her, but she gave me no such courtesy.

This is Faith, afterall.

If she wants to do something, she just does it.

"Oh my god, Faith. That is intense," I gasp again.

"Told you," she muffles into my pussy. She laps at my clit as she fucks me.

We suck and fuck with abandon. The juice from the popcicles and our saliva pool in our mouths and dribbles down our chins.

We'll have to buy Angel new sheets.

Faith takes out the Big Stick and sucks on it. She looks at me all sexy and I do the same.

"Want some blue?" she asks offering some to me.

"Want some pink?" I ask in return.

And she does, cus she returns her mouth to my pussy and starts fucking me with her tongue.

Her semi-warm tongue in my ice cold pussy. We both moan at the same time.

"Oh god, Buffy."

"Oh god, Faith."

The heat from our pussies and the alternate sucking from our mouths soon whittles down the Big Sticks to almost nothing.

Nothing but wooden stick, and neither of us want to get splinters. Can't really see ourselves explaining that to Angel and the others.

Or the emergency technician on call at Urgent Care.

She tosses the sticky stick aside and I do the same. She grabs my leg around her head and buries her face in my snatch.

And we both begin feasting on juicy ice cold pussy.

Lots of slurping and moaning later, we fall away from each other gasping.

Faith starts to giggle as she runs her finger up my snatch. I squeeze my leg around her neck.

She starts to sing.

"Summers lovin', happened so fast."

I sing back:

"Summers lovin', had us a blast."

And together:

"Met a girl, crazy for meeeee."

"Met a girl, sweet as could be."

We laugh, holding onto each others thighs. And with a high pitched whiny ending we sing:

"Those Summerrrrrs...N-I-I-I-G-G-H-H-H-TS."

"I'll meet you guys in front of the Palms," says Faith as we all assemble in the lobby.

"Why aren't you coming with us again?" asks Willow.

"Got a few things to do first," was Faith's cryptic reply.

She's being all secretive again and won't tell me either.

Whatever.

Faith does what Faith wants.

No point stopping her. It only drags it out longer.

"Well, what about her?" Willow says nodding her head to the surly girl on the couch.

Cordy's date from last night. She shook off Jayme's apology and hooked up with a demon child.

Not that she was 'masturbating in the hotel lobby with a magazine' exactly, but she was looking at one.

And she acted like she wished she had never met Cordy.

Cordy thought otherwise.

"Oh, leave Darling Nykki to me," she says with a knowing smile.

"I'd rather leave with her," the spawn of satan replies, looking at Willow.

Willow blushes. Her face turning as red as her hair.

No, redder.

Evidentally Cordy's Darling Nykki wandered into the kitchen when Willow was grabbing a late night snack for herself and Tara.

And she started to snack on Willow.

"I got a thing for red-heads," she had shrugged, leaving a breathless and bewildered Willow alone in the dark pantry.

Nykki had sampled Willow's lips and neck and then left the kitchen as abruptly as she had entered it.

A dine and dash.

Nykki's eyes move back to the magazine and says :

"It's not my fault. She shouldn't have been all naked and stuff in front of a refrigerator in the middle of the night."

"I was SO not naked!" Willow denies.

"Close enough," comes the retort.

Tara smiles, taking Willow's hand.

"Baby, it was a little skimpy."

"It was a NIGHTIE, not a skimpy," Willow denies hotly.

"A short, sheer, sexy skimpy too," adds the demon child.

"Yeah? Go Red," smiles Faith appreciatively, "I mean, go Tara," she winks at her.

We all look at Cordelia, expecting to see the jealous and pissy girl we've all come to know and love.

But she's not either of them.

In fact, she smiles adoringly at her Darling Nykki.

"Oh, isn't she just a cutie-pie?" she says fondly.

"I am NOT, and never have been, a CUTIE-PIE," scowls the girl. She throws the magazine down and storms towards the kitchen.

Wheew. Cordy's got a live one on her hands.

Or between her thighs.

"God, she's just so sexy when she gets mad," sighs Cordelia.

"Then she must be sexy a lot. But whatever blows your skirt up, Cordy. Hey, what were you snackin' on when Little Nykki started snackin' on you, Red?" Faith asks grinning, "Not something that has a face on it, I hope. "

"Eeew, no Faith. Just a little...um...cheese."

"Playing mouse-in-the-hole again, huh, Red?"

Willow turns a brighter shade of scarlet.

"That is none of your business. And I, for one, was not impressed by any of your stories."

Tara giggles.

"Oh, yes you were, Willow."

"Haaaaaaa! I knew it!" Faith shouts clapping.

Faith had relayed a story to us once in Sunnydale. We were playing Truth or Dare and had been drinking and getting silly.

My love for cheese came up and Faith dared me to eat some cheese from her...uh...mouse hole.

She said she 'dated' a girl named Bre once, and she told us she had inserted some Brie into the girl's 'mouse hole'.

That's what she calls it sometimes, when I'm on my period. She's either grabbing the mouse by the tail or flying a kite.

But this girl wasn't on her period, she just had cheese shoved up her quim.

And Faith had nibbled her way into it.

"That's okay, Red. It's nice to know there weren't any handcuffs involved this time," Faith teases.

"Don't be so sure," smiles Tara.

"Damn, go T!" shouts Faith again, like at her favorite team, "You do me proud, baby girl."

"Th-thank you," Tara blushes.

"Uh, I'm gonna go find that date of mine and be right back," says Cordy. She goes to find Nykki.

Yeah, right. She's gonna put some Swiss up her snatch and let the devil child have at it.

We're not stupid.

"Well, I guess it's just you three then. Where's Ronald?" Faith asks.

"He left already. He's gonna be hanging out by Rage and The Motherload. Oh, and in front of The Eagle," Willow tells her.

"Damn, our boy is makin' the rounds, huh, ladies?"

"It's the last day of Pride week, baby. He needs to make up for all of that time he wasted on Angel."

Poor Angel.

My former lover has a brand new thing to be tortured about.

His growing attraction to Ronald and the fact that he's not gay.

Poor thing. He's always cursed by something.

I'm glad it's not my problem anymore.

I walk over to Faith and give her a deep soulful kiss.

"Hey, howya doin', sweetheart?" she asks a little surprised.

"I miss you already," I tell her.

"But baby, we're both here," she says.

"Yes, baby. Finally."

She's not sure what led my train of thought there, but she follows me.

She smiles tenderly at me, wiping a hair from my face. Like I always do with her.

"Yeah, baby, finally. And still. And forever."

F-n-B 4eVeR.

Just like she carved into Mrs. Weeping Willow Tree.

In our tree, in our garden...

At our home.

"My goddess, can it be any hotter?" complains Willow.

We're standing outside of the Palms lesbian bar.

It's a bit of an institution according to Faith and Jayme.

It has its moments, sometimes being the hot spot to find fun and hot women, and other times just a nice, quiet place to have a drink with some friends.

Today was the former. And it was literally crawling with litters of lesbians.

Okay, maybe not literally, but you know what I mean.

Across the street and over the median was the parade.

Miles and miles of parade.

Floats and automobiles and gay rights groups and a gazillion drag queens. The street was lined with spectators both straight and gay. There were 'fundies' on various street corners in masks and contamination suits, quoting scripture through bullhorns with signs telling us to REPENT and AIDS IS GOD'S WAY OF SAYING HOMOSEXUALITY IS A SIN and YOU ARE AN EFFRONT AND AN ABOMINATION IN THE EYES OF OUR LORD.

We need to see the error of our ways in order to be saved.

And then they would all pose for pictures with us, smiling.

Silly people.

In this heat, they'll probably all fry in those suits and experience their own kind of hell.

It's been over two hours and none of us have seen Faith.

She said she would meet us in front of the Palms, and even though I thought I had seen her a few times, I couldn't sense her.

And each time I was right and it proved not to be her. Just another hot, sexy female with an attitude.

I miss my baby.

"I miss my baby," I tell Wills and Tara.

"I wonder where she is?" queries Willow.

Suddenly very loud clapping and cheering could be heard from across the street.

"Buffy! Tara, Willow, get over here!!" comes an excited shout.

It was Jayme, with a beer in one hand and a very hot girl on the other. A very hot girl.

Janine?

No...really?

Yes, really.

Because suddenly I notice all the surrounding women staring at her and whispering loudly. And Janine seemed oblivious to it all, focusing all of her attention on Jayme instead...

...who was focusing all of her attention on us.

"Get over here!" she shouts again.

We rush over, stepping around numerous people who are sprawled out in the sun with coolers and umbrellas.

"Hey Jayme, what's up?" I say shyly.

I mean, it's Janine standing next to her.

Tara and Willow fare no better.

"Uh...um...uh..." they both stammer.

"Hi pumpkins, how are you?" Janine says, kissing us all on our cheeks.

I'm great, Janine. I feel like a piece of pie.

Please eat me.

Kidding!

"Great, thanks," I blush, embarrassed by my thoughts.

"Geezus Buffy, snap out of it. Look over here, will you?" Jayme says smiling.

Oh sure. Like I'm the only one whose panties are in a puddle.

I mean, bundle.

We move our eyes to the loud noise roaring down the street. It gets louder as the sound gets closer and the cheering and clapping gets louder too.

Dykes on Bikes and Faith is leading them.

Oh.

My.

God.

The bikes stop every so often to wait for the parade to move up ahead of them, giving the girl-crazed spectators ample opportunity to run into the street and place big wet ones on Faith's lips.

Even from here I can see many shades of lipstick on her face.

And she's just grinning.

"Damn, she's hot," says Janine eyeballing Faith, "Think she'll work with me?" she adds, asking no one in particular.

Janine works only with women.

But not MY woman.

"No."

"Oh, you know her?" asks Janine.

"Slightly," I reply. Keep your gorgeous body off of my girl!

"That's Faith, sunshine. You remember. Vegas? Little Darlings?" Jayme says trying to prompt her memory.

"No. And I'm pretty sure I'd remember a hottie like that," Janine says narrowing her eyes, like she's thinking.

"Julia pulled her on stage and then slapped the back of her head?" More prompting from Jayme.

"Ohhhh. That's right. That's her?" Janine asks looking back at Faith.

Faith is dressed a little differently now. I'll give that much to Janine.

She wasn't wearing the black leather chaps, gloves, or vest unbuttoned to her navel with nothing underneath it that night.

Or the German novelty helmet.

A girl runs over and kisses Faith between her breasts. Faith holds up her arms, spreading her fingers in the air, grinning at everyone.

See? it says. It's not me, it's all her. My hands aren't anywhere near her.

Yeah, but your breasts are!

Jayme spies the look on my face and says:

"Oh-oh."

"Oh-oh is right," echos Willow.

"Wow, Buff. You got a little mini-Cordy thing happening?"

"No, Jaymes. Cordy got that from me. I am no mini anything."

"Hoo-boy," smiles Janine, looking at me. "Girlfriend?" she asks.

"Mate," I respond.

"Nice. I like that," she nods approvingly.

Well, good. Cuz she's mine, and you can't have her.

"Buffy, relax," Willow says softly.

"Yes, I know, Willow. This is Gay Pride."

"Hoo-boy," Janine says again, turning her head away and smiling.

So I'm jealous. Is it a crime?

"But I'd be jealous too, if she were my mate," Janine concedes.

"Thank you," I say gratefully.

"So, go get her," Janine says looking at Faith and then me.

"Right, and make an ass of myself?"

"No, go claim your mate. In front of the 350,000 people who will acknowledge your relationship."

Oh my god, she's right.

"Or..." she adds, "...just stand here and watch her get fondled by all of them. It's up to you. I certainly don't mind watching it."

I bet.

From the same 350,000 people who certainly don't mind watching you.

And me being one of them.

"Go claim her, Buffy," grins Jayme.

"Do it," says Tara and Willow, smiling broadly.

I'm gonna do it!

I chicken out.

"I have to pee," I say weakly.

"Want me to claim her for you?" asks Janine.

My eyes flash.

She laughs.

"I didn't think so. Just offering, that's all."

Right, that's all I need.

Faith being claimed by one of the hottest women on the entire planet, and for everyone and their mother to see.

Her ego would be so inflated, she could be mistaken for a Macy's parade balloon on Thanksgiving day.

And if Julia Ann had to slap the back of her head for thinking she was the shit in Vegas, I'd probably have to bitch slap her all the way back home to Sunnydale.

This crowd was a gazillion times bigger than Vegas.

I muster my resolve and say:

"I'm going in."

I get a round of encouragement.

"Go get her, Buffy," "Tell her," "There's my girl."

Yes, and THERE'S mine.

I work my way through the seated crowd of many. Mostly on the grass and on the curb by the street. All move their legs and various items so I can get past them.

And yes, I got groped a few times along the way.

I finally get to where Faith is sitting on her Harley. More girls have climbed on top of her and they appear to be hanging off of her arms.

Which are still in the air, by the way.

She's just so innocent, isn't she?

She's laughing and letting her face get rained upon with kisses.

I stand a few feet away from her and watch.

Slowly she stops laughing and her arms begin to come down. The girls have nothing to hang onto now, so they just stand there looking at her a bit confused.

She leans back into her seat and peers over at me.

She had sensed me.

She breaks into a gigantic grin and shouts:

"BABY!!" And she holds her arms out wide to me, forcing the other girls to step aside.

The girls are curious as to who I could be, having been the one she lowered her arms for and then actually holding them out to me.

They step away as I approach them. They may not know, but they know.

It's there. They all feel it.

The Connection.

It's like static electricity on this super hot day.

The crowd within our immediate vacinity feels it too.

It's undeniable.

It's irrevocable.

It's unmistakable.

The cheering and clapping from the crowd suddenly sounds distant and surreal as Faith and I find ourselves in...

The Slayer Zone.

They're loud.

But we're louder.

Our Connection has always been louder than words.

She pulls me towards her with her gaze and I can tell I am doing the same to her. Her body shifts on the bike and her entire being seems prepared to welcome my essence.

The Chosen Two...yet we are One.

We're Mates.

I soon find myself encircled in her arms, and I begin to feel that familiar current run through us.

From her into me and then back again.

When our Connection is at its strongest, it loops around in a circle. Or a figure 8, actually.

Infinity.

She stands up and straddles the motorcycle, lifting me onto the narrow space in front of her. I'm backwards, facing her, and I wrap my legs around her waist.

Somewhere we hear a distant sound.

Like thunder. Or lightning striking or a crowd gone insane.

But we're in our own world.

No.

Our own Faith/Buffy Universe.

She looks deeply into my eyes and her gaze speaks volumes to me.

My Mate, it says.

My Lover.

My Girl.

I slide my arms around her shoulders and press myself into her.

She loosens the strap around her neck and the helmet hangs behind her head and against my arms. I bring my face close to hers and she kisses me.

Softly, tenderly...with care.

She's so gentle with me, that her very action contradicts her appearance.

She looks badass, and she IS badass, but with me she's all girl.

My girl.

We look down in surprise as four water balloons suddenly splatter onto the ground next to us. We look over to see Wills, Tara, Jayme, and Janine with even more.

Janine shouts out before hurling another one.

"I said CLAIM her, not TAME her!"

Oh, well. Too late.

And we laugh as our four goofy friends bombard us with water balloons.

I wake up to Faith's quiet movements in the room.

She's driving out to see the sunrise again. She needs some alone time to think.

She's done this for the past two mornings now. She had been highly upset when she and Giles had been overruled by The Council.

You see, I am going to Europe with her after all.

When she had heard their decision she became angry and destructive. Luckily, Angel has a training room and she took out her aggressions in there. I had found her there, one pre-dawn morning, when I woke up and she wasn't in the bed with me.

At first I thought hungries.

But then I thought angries.

And I was right.

I stood outside the door as I heard her blaring the music and screaming out the lyrics to the songs.

First, of course, 'Killing in the Name Of', by Rage Against the Machine. Then, 'Head Like a Hole', by Nine Inch Nails.

CD title?

Pretty Hate Machine.

The Council was seriously on her shit list.

I listened closely to what she was screaming.

God money I'll do anything for you.
God money just tell me what you want me to.
God money nail me up against the wall.
God money don't want everything he wants it all.

No you can't take it
No you can't take it
No you can't take that away from me
No you can't take it
No you can't take it
No you can't take that away from me

Head like a hole. Black as your soul. I'd rather die than give you control.
Head like a hole. Black as your soul. I'd rather die than give you control.

Bow down before the one you serve.You're going to get what you deserve.
Bow down before the one you serve.You're going to get what you deserve.

God's money's not looking for the cure.
God's money's not concerned with the sick among the pure.
God's money let's go dancing on the backs of the bruised.
God's money not one to choose.
No you can't take it
No you can't take it
No you can't take that away from me
No you can't take it
No you can't take it
No you can't take that away from me

Head like a hole. Black as your soul. I'd rather die than give you control.
Head like a hole. Black as your soul. I'd rather die than give you control.

I understood her anger. The Council had fucked her once again. But I had called them in the first place, so I believed some of her anger was directed at me.

I had heard her pummeling on the training bag when the music stopped. I was about to go in when I heard another song come on.

One I had heard twice before, and had hoped I would never hear her play again.

Alice in Chains 'Man in The Box'.

The rage was no longer directed outward at The Council or at me, but at herself.

I'm the man in the box
Buried in my SHIT
Won't you come and save me, save me

Feed my eyes, can you sew them shut?
Jesus Christ, deny your maker
He who tries, will be wasted
Feed my eyes now you've sewn them shut

I'm the dog who gets beat
Shove my nose in SHIT
Won't you come and save me, save me

I left when the chorus began again.

Faith had gone into retreat mode and when she does that, there is no pulling her out. She needed to work it through on her own.

I've tried it before, but her eyes got all wild and she couldn't keep focused on me. All she could think about was her worthless existence since childhood.

My girl was damaged.

Damaged, and still the love of my life.

I left her alone.

Afterwards she had jumped on the bike and went for a long drive. When she came back, she was calmer and said she had just gone out to see the sun rise.

She said that's when the world had hope again, because all the evils we saw every night had gone to bed.

And then she had crawled back into ours with me.

And I held her while she cried quietly in my arms.

She did the same thing yesterday. And I'm assuming that's what she's doing today.

She said she drove the bike out to the coast and watched the sun rise in the east as she cruised down Pacific Coast Highway. It was calming and peaceful and exactly what she needed.

And a great place to feel free on her Harley.

I close my eyes as she continues to get dressed. She is almost done now, and I soon expect to feel my goodbye kiss.

I feel the bed sink in a little as she sits down next to me.

But she doesn't kiss me.

Instead, I feel her hand stroke my hair softly, rubbing a lock between her fingers; feeling its silky texture.

My Texture Girl.

Still the same. Always wanting something of quality against her skin.

Her beautiful, beautiful skin.

Finally the bed shifts and I feel the weight of her upper body lay gently on top of mine.

And then she kisses me.

Softly, so as not to wake me.

And then on my forehead for good luck.

It's been a while since she's done that. No need, I guess, seeing as how lucky we are to have finally found each other.

But still it's nice to feel our sentimental beginnings on my forehead from her lips.

Faith's lips.

She strokes my hair one more time and places another soft kiss on my mouth. We had middle-of-the-night sex, and I'm sure she can still taste herself on it.

She was sleeping and I sang her a lullaby.

Twice, and I had hoped it would relieve some of the tension she was feeling. But I guess it hadn't. I'll try for three tonight.

And then we were leaving for home in the morning.

I feel Faith raise herself from the bed and then I hear her quietly shut the door behind her.

My mind starts planning the first of our many meals for when she returns. Pancakes, waffles, toast, bacon, eggs and hash browns.

And a gallon of milk.

Cordy and her new girlfriend, Jennifer, or Jenn for short, had made our breakfast the last two days and I decided to surprise them this morning with breakfast in bed.

Cordy seems to be in love, if you can believe it, and has the perfect arrangement. Her French lover one week and Jenn every other. They were all good with that.

Cordy had met Jenn when she was leaving the parade. She had grown tired of the string of women she had all week and had decided to 'give up pussy' once and for all.

No matter how much sex she had, she could still never find what Faith and I shared. And she wanted it very much.

Sex for sex sake was fun, but without love it became meaningless and hollow. Something Cordy never thought she would find herself admitting.

And then she met Jenn.

They took one look at each other, and as the saying goes, the rest was history.

Or herstory if you listen to Willow and Tara.

It was only 3 days strong, but for Cordy that's sort of a record. Besides Xander, of course.

And she's different around Jenn. Oh, she's still bitchy and sarcastic, but the nasty edge is gone.

I think Jennifer is good for her. I hope they make it.

And Angel hopes so too.

His 'tasty' goat's blood has been given a new name by Jenn.

Crimson Champagne, and she serves it to him in a flute.

Jennifer is La'Orangerie's new sous chef. Frenchie gave her a job there as soon as he found out her culinary skills and her sexual connection to Cordy. I think he's hoping for a little Three's Company action, but I don't really think Jenn goes that way.

Plus I don't think Cordy will let him. I told you, she's in love.

All is good in the House of Buffy and Faith. Our friends are happy and we're happy too.

But it's early still, so I don't think they'll be wanting breakfast anytime soon.

But I'll be sure to get up before my baby comes back. She'll crawl back into bed and then I'll serve her two trays of breakfast.

After we make love, of course. Well, of course. I'm not crazy.

Well, actually I am, and it's still because of her.

I'm crazy in love with her, you see. Completely insane.

Yes...definitely certifiable.

FAITH'S POV:

I need to be on that plane before the sun comes up.

Otherwise Buffy will time my return and be waitin' for me.

I take a look at the Pacific Ocean and feel a deep pang. It will be a while before I see Sunnydale's beaches again, because I'll be crossing the Atlantic in less than two hours.

London is calling.

I pull my bike into the one lit hangar at Santa Monica airport.

The plane is ready to go and it will be a short flight. I'm being dropped off at Vandenberg Air Force Base in central California.

Irony, actually.

Sunnydale would have been my destination tomorrow.

I kill the bike when I see Ronald approach me. He's dressed in basic black; a tuxedo, a hat and a trenchcoat.

"Hey, Ronald. I see you dressed for the occasion," I say nodding to his attire.

"Double O-six-nine, don't you know. But you can call me Bond, Jane Bond."

He's such a nut. But a really great nut.

"You get my things for me?" I ask him.

"Uh, yeah. And that's exactly what they are. Things."

"Yeah, but they're mine so don't knock it."

"I wouldn't dream of it," he says seriously.

Uh-huh. If we were both in the bath, I'da splashed water on his face.

He hands me the ornate wooden box and then looks at me curiously. I open it up and he gasps.

"Baby, that is seriously gorgeous," he exclaims, "Buffy?" he asks, eyebrow raised.

"You know it," I smile.

"Can I touch it?"

"Sure, but be careful, it's got a real bite."

He takes the titanium reinforced silver blade out of the box and handles it carefully. He smiles when he sees the inscription.

"She really loves you, you know," he states matter-of-fact.

"Yeah, I know, that's why I'm doin' this," I don't want to feel guilty. I have to do this. It's for her. It's for us.

I just don't think she'll see it that way.

He hands me the other things I asked for. Trinkets and things and the CFL skull beanie Buffy got me.

I take off my helmet and put it on.

"Sexy. With a nice edge," he says admiringly.

"Think I look like a supervixen?" I pose with a scowl.

"Baby, the superest of vixens..." he smiles, "...and with a nice rack," he adds keeping a shudder down.

I smile at him. He's just so prissy.

"So when does this piece of tin push off?" I ask him all business.

"Whenever you're ready. The flight should be brief and then you'll take a transport plane from Vandenberg Air Force Base and fly directly into the RAF Base in Lakenheath, England. Vandenberg is the only military base in the United States from which unmanned government and commercial satellites are launched into polar orbit. It is also the only site from which intercontinental ballistic missiles are test fired into the Pacific Ocean and splash down at the Kwajalein Atoll within the Marshall Islands. It's the 30th Space Wing and Lakenheath is the 48th Fighter Wing."

"Save it, Ronnie. The only wings I know about are Redwings and I already earned 'em. About 14 times, in fact. And since Buffy won't be with me, I think I'll be stuck in a holding pattern."

"Eew. If that's what I think it is, you have officially grossed me out," he says turning green again.

"Hey, let's call this Operation Slayer 14th Redwings."

His shudder gets away from him. I watch as it runs through his body.

"Waa-aaa-aaggghh," he says as he shakes it off, "Okay, now where were we?" he asks composing himself.

"I said, can we call this-"

"STOP. Why do I keep doing this to myself? Okay, I remember what you said. Sure, call it whatever you want, just don't SAY it in front of me. Got it?"

"Got it," I smile. Pussy.

"Good. Now the password at both bases is Slayer Love. Think you can remember that?"

I smile softly at him.

"Yeah, Ronnie. I can remember that."

"Good girl. Now, Chuckie will be there to accompany you to England. He's going to run interference with the Council while you get briefed by London Lisa. She knows you are coming alone and that you go by the name of 'Beetown Betty'."

"What's she look like?" I ask.

"No clue. Never met her. But she will either be at Lakenheath or have someone there to escort you to her. Don't forget, this is very hush-hush and you must maintain your password and location identification. You must ask your escort or anyone claiming to be London Lisa what the password is. If it's off, even if just a little, walk away. We think this 'evil' thing has gotten word of your arrival and we have no idea what it looks like or what it can do. Please be careful, Faith."

"I promise, Ronnie."

"In fact, I'm throwing in a safety word because Slayer Love may be too obvious. If they only say Slayer Love, walk away. Don't prompt them for the safety word. Let's call the saftey word 'Meka'."

"Okay. What's that mean?"

"I don't know. Just came off the top of my pointy little head. Make them say it on their own. I'll contact London Lisa with it."

I nod my non-pointy head at him. He's just so 'Her Majesty's Secret Service'. But I appreciate his concern for my safety.

"What do you want me to tell Buffy? Or do you have a letter you'd like me to deliver?"

Fuck. A letter. Shit.

He sees the look on my face.

"No worries, baby. Here, take my pen and I'll find you some paper. We have time, okay?"

"Okay, Ronald," I tell him, relieved.

He reaches inside his breast pocket and pulls out a fancy fountain pen.

"Montblanc."

"Oh, a fancy French pen," I say, takin' it from him.

"Actually, no. It's really called a Montblanc Meisterstuck."

"What's that, German?"

"Yes."

"Then why the fancy French name?"

"Well, the German craftsmen who created this pen, who are true artists, if you ask me, wanted to name the pen after their desire to create writing instruments of the highest quality. Mont Blanc is the highest mountain in Europe and it happens to be in France. In 1913, this cap here, with the white star, was introduced. The white star represents the snow peaked cap of the Mont Blanc Mountain..."

Oh my god. Why do I keep doin' this to myself? It's a pen for fuck's sake.

"...in 1919, the first Montblanc Boutique opened in Hamburg, Germany, and-"

"-Redwings. Operation Slayer 14th Redwings!" I blurt.

"Let me go see about that paper," And he runs off to find some.

Jiminy Cricket.

He can be just as annoying as one chirpin' through the night.

He comes back and hands it to me.

"Here. And let that word never be spoken between us again."

"What word, you mean-"

"Faith!"

Heh heh.

I jot Buffy a brief note. I can't write more or I'll get all choked up. I have to be strong, cus my baby's life might depend upon it.

I know she doesn't believe this, but I'm going for her and the gang and her mom. If she dies, they'd all be lost without her.

If I die, life goes on.

And if she died, I'd rather be dead too.

So they'd lose two Slayers instead of one.

If it comes to that.

I'm hoping not, but I have to prepare for the possibility.

I'm not single anymore, and every decision I act upon effects her.

Just like she told me.

I kiss the paper and hand it to Ronnie. I hand him back his pen.

"Keep it. Maybe you can drop me a line or two, if phone service becomes impossible."

"Sure, thanks, Ronald. You sure you're up to seein' Angel again?"

"Yes," he sighs, "I've been cheating on him regularly with Rosie, so I should be able to handle seeing him."

Handle seeing him. Ha, that's funny.

"Rosie and her four sisters?" I grin.

"Yep, all of her siblings," He wiggles the five fingers on his right hand.

The plane creeps out slowly from the hangar. We step away as it gets pulled outside so it can get into position for take-off.

I need to get on it.

"I guess this is it, muffin," I tell him.

"I guess it is," he says sadly.

"Hey, don't look so glum, old chum," I tease him. He's gonna make me well up.

"I love you, you know that, you nasty dyke."

"Yeah, I do. And I love you, my Sushi Queen."

"Oh, why? Why?? This was a sentimental moment, not exactly, but almost like Casablanca, and then you have to ruin it by mentioning sushi? Oh god, I don't think I'll eat any kind of fish again. Let alone raw fish."

There's my nelly-belly. I can't handle any more sentiment.

"Sorry. So here's lookin' at you, kid."

"We'll always have Paris," he says.

"You mean the Hellmouth?" I say on cue.

"Honey, have you been to Paris lately? It is a Hellmouth."

He kisses me on both cheeks and I grab his basket.

He jumps back in surprise as I wink at him.

"Be good to Angel. And tell Buffy I love her."

"I'll go there as soon as the plane leaves."

"If she's sleepin', don't wake her. Just leave the note on the pillow next to her, okay?"

He smiles his approval and sniffles back a tear. He's such a die-hard romantic. That's why I love him so much.

I board the plane and strap myself in.

I wave to Ronald as the plane taxis down the runway.

I hope she understands when she reads it. I hope she knows what I mean.

That no matter what happens...it's true:

F-n-B 4eVeR.

The End

(TBC in "A Movable Evil")

The Cast of TCM cameo/sly references

1. Mac
2. Miss Ellie
3. Sweet Z
4. lemons
5. Jayme
6. Elaine the cRaZy Ozzie
7. Mistress Aby
8. Frenchie
9. Nemo
10. Randy Reese
11. Faith Boreanaz
12. Cin-Cin
13. PT
14. Mythic Lionheart & her fic "Behind the Curtain"
15. Wicked Grin (trademark)
16. Rocky (Marciano)
17. xtrekangel
18. The Jitterbug
19. Rainne
20. London Lisa
21. Sunnydale Resident
22. Angeleyes
23. Wicked Faith
24. Wicked Willow
25. Nykki
26. faithfulbadass
27. cutiepie
28. Bre
29. faithslips
30. Jenn
31. Crimson champagne
32. Chantal Vandenberg
33. Meka
34. Rosie
35. Oral