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About a half hour later, heartbeats gradually slowing to normal, we reluctantly attend to things like shutting the door, getting dressed–although my bra seems to be MIA–and checking on Dawn.

She's nowhere to be found.

Faith steps out onto the back lawn. What's left of the demon is still there, but no Dawn. "Creature?" she calls.

She turns to come back inside, and stops, pulling a note off the back door. She hands it to me. "Here you go. You just had to tear in through the wrong door, didn't you?"

I read Dawn's note. "Figured you guys might be doing the hungry-and-horny thing. Two pizzas in the oven. One plain, one I fixed up special. I called Tara to come and get me. Thought you guys might need one more night on your own. Don't get used to it!"

"Pizza!" we blurt in unison, rushing to the kitchen. Yep, we're in the hungry phase now! I wash my hands, turn the oven on and set the timer. We pass the time by making out some more. I don't know where my bra went, but I doubt it would have stayed on anyway.

The timer rings and we dive for the grub. But Faith was just doing something highly unsanitary to me. "Ewww, Faith, wash your hands first!"

She licks her fingers with a naughty wink. "Done." Oh, well, I don't suppose anything ought to shock me anymore.

Soon we're devouring hot pizza, topless. Risky business.

Somehow two extra large pizzas vanish inside of us, replacing what our powers took from us on patrol.

"What did Dawn put on that pizza?" I ask.

"I have no idea. Nothing I recognized." We start laughing until our eyes water. Doesn't take much to set us off tonight.

"Still hungry?"

"Yep."

"Dessert! Slayer need sugar!"

Topless pizza calls for topless sweets! I go to open the fridge, not sure what we have, and stop in my tracks, staring inside.

Faith joins me. "There might be some..." she too falls silent.

The top shelf of the fridge is empty except for a can of whipped cream placed invitingly on display. Now that has possibilities. But... "Dawn...!?"

Faith shakes her head. "I guess so..."

My little sister?!

Faith reaches slowly for the spray can and pops off the lid. "But she said Tara came to get her... it could be Tara..."

"Tara....!?"

Faith starts squirting whipped cream. "Who cares, B? Now hold still, you're jiggling all over!"

 

---

 

Puffs of heat on my chest.

Faith is curled up into me, head nestled under my chin, hands clutched limply between my breasts. My eyes water at just how adorable she is. I blink at the light streaming in the open curtains. I don't remember us getting into bed, but then again most of last night is a little vague. Did we go out slaying again at some point? I think we did. Flashes of last night come to me, but I can't make sense of them... Faith and I in the tub... Faith and I on the couch... Faith and I tumbling out the front door half-dressed and pulling each other's hair. And on top of the fridge? Did we really do it there?

Oh, well, as with the details of an intense battle, those memories are too chaotic to be of much use. I can tell one thing, though. When Dawn's home we're going to have to find some way to get ourselves under control. Or maybe just lock her in her room with headphones on.

I kiss the top of my wife's head gently so as not to awaken her.

She doesn't move so much as en eyelid, but her breathing has shifted just slightly. Only a Slayer would notice it. I shift my legs lazily, casually, to a different position.

She lets one hand fall, as if by its own weight, onto the sheet between us. Near my shoulder.

Gradually, every muscle in my body tenses. I feel the same from her. But her eyes are still closed, and her breathing is slow as if she's asleep.

A minute passes. Two. We make slight movements, changing our centers of gravity slightly, or seeking a favorable angle that could be turned into leverage. I let my eyes close and attune myself to her body, while also putting myself in her mind to predict when she'll make her move.

To an outsider we would seem to be cuddling in our sleep. But we're Slayers, well-rested, with energy to burn. In our own way, we're circling each other before a fight.

There. She moves her foot a little and her toe is under my shin instead of above. She'll kick my legs up and then over to spin me away from her, and then her hand at my shoulder will be placed to seize me around the neck. I smile. Well played, Faith. I know her plan because I know how she fights, how she thinks... but I'm in an unfavorable position, and the slightest move from me to change that will set her off. I know she's expecting me to try to roll away from her, and that will only play into her hands, helping her trap me from behind.

So I play dirty. I blow gently on the top of her head, causing a moment's distracting tickle. In that moment I roll over her in a flash, not stopping to try to pin her because it would fail. I roll over her and drop to the floor, feeling her spring into action, and wait just an instant before launching myself into the air.

I push her shoulders as she dives onto me, twisting her to the side, and pull an arm to keep her spinning until I have her on the floor in the headlock she planned for me. My other hand reaches between her legs from behind to find her as aroused as I am.

So... she wants that kind of fight. For us, fighting and sex are often one and the same. I won't win victory in this battle by pinning her, but by bringing her to a climax that will take away her control. Before she does the same to me.

So while she twists and writhes to get free, I move my fingers over her sex. Not teasing her along needlessly, but using my knowledge of her responses to bring her to the edge as quickly as possible. I feel all her muscles go limp, for the briefest moment–a sure sign that she's close.

But it's a ruse to make me cocky, and it works. I let my guard down and loosen my headlock, and in a flash the tables are turned. And very nearly a dresser as well.

She's got her head between my legs, her arms around my thighs keeping me held face-down on top of her. Each of her hands grips one of mine, and even rolling hard enough to smash us both into the wall doesn't free them. She's using her talented mouth on me.

I try to burrow my face between her thighs and return the favor, but I can't part her legs. Soon her tongue has me gasping, and I fight the pleasure the way I normally fight pain in battle.

But she's too good. I can't fight anymore. I let orgasm wash over me and go limp. I crawl around gasping to lie face to face with her on the floor. "Good morning..."

"'Morning, B! Love ya."

"Love you too... now what can I do for my wife?" Our arrangement is, the loser of this kind of fight has to pleasure the victor. In any way she wants.

She makes her request and I contemplate my hand, which suddenly feels about the size of a tennis racket. "No way, Faith, I'll hurt you!"

"I'm a Slayer, B! You won't hurt me! It's easy, just take it slow. Don't tell me you've never tried on your own!"

"My whole hand?! Never!"

Cautiously, I try what she asks.

She's right of course. I fit. It's a sensation I won't soon forget.

 

---

 

The last sixteen hours or so are a blur. Fighting, eating, making love... sometimes all three at once. Sleeping, cuddling, laughing, kissing, dancing, sleeping some more–daylight or no daylight. For some reason we've awoken in Willow and Tara's old bed this time–just for variety? Faith was asleep sitting up against some pillows, and I was asleep in her naked lap. But now she's stroking my hair. In some ways the tender moments are even better than the more exciting ones.

"Buffy, are you real?"

I kiss the inside of her thigh and snuggle against her cozily.

"Good." She's pulling my hair out if its ponytail, which I seem to recall inserting someplace that left it rather damp and matted.

"Buffy, I love..." she stops. "I feel something for you that goes so far beyond anything I could ever say."

"Don't try, baby. I feel the same, you know." I turn to kiss her stomach under her navel. "It's silly I guess, but part of me thinks the whole line of Slayers, all the way back to the very first, existed just to bring us two together."

"Maybe you're right."

"I'm so happy, Faith. I didn't know there was this kind of happy."

"Tell me about it. There's no way in hell I deserve you, Buffy."

"Too bad, you're stuck with me."

"Buffy... do you remember last night?"

"Bits and pieces. I guess it's one of those Slayer things the Watchers don't like to talk about. Haven't you ever had sex before, after slaying, and not remembered it all? That used to happen to me with Spike."

"Well, yeah, it's happened before a little... but not like this! I mean, it's like we were drugged!" She falls silent. "So... it was like that with you and Spike?"

I slither up to kiss her ear. "Not even close!" I whisper. I slide around to look into her eyes. "And I don't just mean the whole not loving him thing, and the hating myself thing, and the very disappointing breasts... Faith, sex with you makes me and Spike seem like shaking hands."

"We're something else, aren't we B? I think we invented new kinds of sex."

"It was disgusting, Faith. I didn't know such perverted, filthy and disgusting behavior even existed."

Her face brightens. "You mean that, Buffy? You're not just saying that?"

"With all my heart, Faith. It was incredible."

We fall into private thoughts."Buffy... did we dance naked in the back yard?"

I shake my head. "The basement." I think a little more, and nod. "And the back yard. By Mr. Stinky Demon."

"Mr. Stinky Demon was disintegrating. Lucky break. What do you do with all the demons you kill that don't fall apart?"

"Lately I mostly throw them in the dumpster by the Doublemeat. I figure nobody'll ever notice the smell. What did you do in Boston?"

"Just left 'em lying around. Give me a good vamp any day... nothin' but dust."

"We went out slaying again I think."

"Yeah, that part's coming back to me. Hard to believe we found any more vampires."

"I know. Fun, though!"

"It was awesome. Is it dark yet? I want to go again!"

"Oh come on, even Slayers get a little cuddle time!" Anyway, the sun is still bright. We haven't wasted the whole day. I kiss her and rub her breasts.

My touch on her nipples reminds her of something. "How about the electric toothbrush thing, B?"

"What? Oh.... right... that was pretty hot. Only... I think we better get rid of the tartar control toothpaste. Far too dangerous."

"The tartar control was the best part!"

"A little too S&M for me. I'm more a refreshing mint kind of gal."

I start to laugh. "How about us on the stairs with the door open? I mean, I want the neighbors to get to know you, but not well enough to get us arrested for indecent exposure!" Any passing cars would have gotten an eyeful of parts of my wife that are strictly between me and Planned Parenthood. I start to giggle and it snowballs. I'm shaking with uncontrolled laughter.

But Faith is frozen, and white as a sheet.

"What's wrong, Faith?"

"It's not funny, Buffy!"

"What? Munchin' on my wife for the whole street to see?" I start to laugh again.

"No, getting arrested for indecent exposure! We could have been! Buffy, that would have been the end of my early release!"

Now it's my turn to go pale. Could a complaint have been made, and we'll hear about it later? But if a cop didn't actually see us, it would only be a warning... right? "It was 3 AM. Who would be out then anyway?"

"Well, police for one thing, Buffy!" She puts her hands in her face. "Oh, Buffy, what are we going to do? Even just getting caught out at night isn't good for me... Don't forget we broke out of a police car together, and our descriptions are still in a file somewhere! And forget the longbow! Do you know how fast I'd be back in jail if anyone saw me running around with that last night? Buffy, how stupid are we?"

The bow. Shit. Or any weapons for that matter. But we're Slayers, damn it! "OK. No bow. We'll stick to sharp sticks for now. Maybe after a few months it won't matter as much, and we can just do our own thing again."

"My parole lasts for five years, Buffy. Minimum!" She looks longingly at the bow, with the engraving on a steel section, "To Faith, with love forever, Buffy." It's propped up on her dresser. Her prize possession. OK, pretty much her only possession.

How can we patrol for five years with just stakes?

"We just can't repeat last night, Faith."

"No." She's crying.

"It'll be OK. We'll leave the big weapons at home, we'll watch for cops, and we'll be more careful with the sex."

"Sounds like fun," she says, sarcastically. "And it's not like we'll live five years anyway. Especially without real weapons."

That again. And the hell of it is, part of me knows she's probably right. Being a Slayer is dangerous.

She slips deeper into one of the dark moods she's always had. "I knew it was too good to be true. I knew I didn't deserve that kind of happiness. After everything I've done. People I've killed."

I kiss her tears, trying not to let her pull me into depression too. "Faith, all around the city this morning, people woke up alive, with their family and friends. People who would be dead now if we hadn't patrolled. Think about them. Think about their families, and their lives that would never have happened. Think how much good you and I can do in just one night. Slaying's not just fun. It makes a difference."

She smiles a little. "Yeah. It does, doesn't it?"

"Faith, believe me when I say this. We are going to kill a hell of a lot of vampires, you and I, and save a hell of a lot of lives, and have a hell of a lot of really nasty sex. Maybe save the world a few times while we're at it. We'll be extra careful not to get hurt, or killed, or arrested. And so what if we have to be a little careful? It's going to be awesome anyway. Wait until tonight. You'll see. We survived with you in prison... this is nothing."

"But my poor bow! She needs to be used!"

It's a she now? "She won't go to waste. We'll use her for target practice and dire emergencies. Honestly, Faith... things will be great. We're the Chosen Two."

She relaxes slightly. "You're right, Buffy. I guess I just got a nasty scare... thinking how close I was to getting arrested and sent away again last night. I can't go back, Buffy!"

Well what do you know? I can actually cheer my wife up. "I got scared too, Faith. But we got away with it, and you're not going back... and wasn't it fun to have one wild night?"

"Fun is not the word, sexy Slayer." She cups my butt in her hands. We start to make out, slowly and sweetly.

But of course it ends with us having sex in the shower. And the hall.

A knock from downstairs makes us both jump. Police? Fallout from last night?

I don't fully appreciate just how much of the day we've slept away... and spent on other things... until I hear a voice and realize it's Dawn coming home from school. Good thing I didn't have to work today.

We exchange some more kisses and start to dress. I still can't find my bra, but Faith's in even worse shape: somewhere along the line her pants went missing. She puts her top on and ties a towel around her waist.

Faith opens the front door to Willow and Tara and Dawn wearing big grins.

"Welcome back, Faith!" says Tara, and Dawn hugs Faith like she's never letting go.

"Next time I'll go slaying with you guys!" says my sister.

"It's a deal, Creature!"

I hug Willow, and even spin her around a little. Everyone is so happy for us, and their delight is contagious!

"Need any help?" asks Willow, noticing several overturned pieces of furniture. Not entirely sure how that happened.

"Well we're missing a brassiere and one pair of pants," says Faith, modeling her towel skirt.

We scour the house and regroup in the living room. Dawn and Tara put several white scraps in Willow's palm. "Is this your bra?" she asks.

I look at the little scraps of cloth and elastic. "I guess so. Some of it."

"This is all we found. I could analyze the evidence and try to reconstruct the crime..."

"Not necessary, Will."

"No pants turned up?" asks Faith. We all shake our heads 'no.' Not even scraps.

We move to sit down, but the vacuum cleaner is on the couch for no apparent reason. Dawn picks up the hose. "How come you guys were too out of it to pick up the furniture, but you were vacuuming on the couch?"

Faith and I look at the vacuum, eyes narrowing with the effort of remembering. Our eyes widen in unison. "Um, no idea," I say quickly, "let's just put that back away!"

Dawn looks at the narrow attachment on the hose. "You were using the crevice tool."

Everyone stops for a long silence. Faith and I avoid eye contact with anyone. Dawn holds the hose with two fingers like it's a dead bird, and slowly sets it back down.

"Well!" says Faith, breaking the embarrassed silence. "I better get on the phone, try to set up interviews. Only a couple of hours left before everyplace closes, and I have got to get some kind of job."

The doorbell rings. Giles, with champagne.

"Faith, I'm so glad you've been able to patrol. This is wonderful news."

"Something between a patrol and a major assault. You were right, Giles. Live or die, we're the Chosen Two."

I take the champagne. "We'll all celebrate after patrol tonight!" I read the label. "It's non-alcoholic–so the kiddies can stay up and join us."

Faith and Dawn, the under-21 Scoobies, scowl at me.

My wife goes and makes some calls... putting more effort into it this time. No luck, though. No interviews. No calls back. How long before they tell her time's up and send her back to jail?

Meanwhile the rest of us do some planning for the next patrol. Including extra precautions to keep the cops off our backs. Giles is weighing the advantages of patrolling together vs. patrolling separately–which is not happening, by the way–when he's interrupted by his cell phone.

He speaks briefly and then mutes the phone. It's the Council. "They are very anxious to know Faith's status. They're selecting a new Watcher for her and assembling a committee to determine where to deploy her. Possibly Italy. They're demanding to speak to one of the Slayers."

Faith overhears and steps into the room. "New Watcher, my ass! I'm staying right here in the land of sunshine. I don't want to talk to them."

"Me neither," I say. The Council really is pathetic. You'd think getting three-quarters of them blown up by a bomb would have given them a little humility. Italy! Please. If big evil shows up someplace other than the Hellmouth, the Chosen Two will go deal with it together. Sounds like a nice honeymoon, in fact.

Giles speaks into the phone. "There are no Slayers available to take your call."

"Tell them to screw themselves," mutters Faith.

"However," adds Giles, raising the phone to his head again, "They would like to suggest that you screw yourselves."

He closes the phone and smiles brightly. "They hung up."

Xander arrives to join the Scooby meeting and fix the door. "Howdy, Slayers!" He shakes Faith's hand. "Good to have you back on the team."

He unpacks tools and a new doorknob, and examines the damage. "Looks like the lock was broken out, then somebody nailed it shut... and then somebody broke it open anyway? That's no way to treat a door." He stops with the door open, squinting at something outside, high up.

He points. "Why is there a pair of pants in that tree?"

 

~ Continued with "CV-21" ~

 

If you're enjoying this story, try I Have Never Been to Boston. Dawn sets out to say goodbye to someone she loves–but who she knows never even existed!

I always appreciate feedback in my Guestbook, or by email. Reader responses will determine whether I publish more stories, and will help improve them! Thanks for reading! (If you'd like to be notified when I post new stories, let me know.)

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