"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.  

TBC in "A Movable Evil"

Cameos