Staring at myself in the mirror I run my hand through my hair. It's all straight and sleek the way Buffy likes, and I'm not wearing too much make-up; just enough to make me look that little bit hotter. She doesn't like me lookin' like a ho.

Yeah, so I'm caving. I'm gonna meet Buffy for patrol, and we'll probably come back here and fuck like crazy – if we make it back here – until she has to go home. She'll ride my fingers, my tongue, my pussy. . .then she'll push me out and leave, and I'll let her.

The beer I've drunk might blunt the total amounts of crap the whole thing makes me feel, but it'll still be there. I take another big swig and lick my lips, ready to see her.

When I get to the cem' we normally meet at I can see right away that she's not alone. Willow and Xander have decided to tag along I guess. They do that sometimes. Makes me kinda chuckle now 'cause I know Buffy would rather be alone with me. She can't let me fuck her up against the nearest tree if her buds are there. Can't pull me to her like she needs me to help her breathe as she rams her hand into my pants. Guess we'll have to wait for them to go and then head back to mine if they're sticking around.

Wish I could talk myself out of it. Wish I could turn around right now and walk away.

“Faith,” Buffy says as she nods in my direction.

That's the best hello I'm gonna get from her until later. She's gotta make sure her friends think she can't stand to have me around, at least that's how it always feels. Keeping me on the outside. Keeping me from being real.

“'Sup, B,” I say, pushing my hands into my pockets.

She gives me a funny look. Guess I drank enough to sound slur-y. Fucked if I care.

“You don't mind the guys coming do you?” Buffy asks.

I know it's not a question, they'll be coming anyway no matter what I want. What they do out here's got nothing to do with me and never will. I'm not part of the gang.

“Fine by me, long as I don't go getting blamed for staking 'em if they get in the way,” I say with a grin.

Willow looks a little worried, but Xander's too busy ogling my goodies to care what I just said. I put on a nice tight top tonight, just for B. She loves my tits.

“Let's get started. . .and stay focused. There will be no accidental stabbings of scoobies tonight,” Buffy says, glancing my way with a sly look of warning in her eyes.

It's kinda sexy and I give her a wink. I'm feeling naughty tonight, and the scoobs might be in for a few surprises. I'm done with playing the part of their little pet. Of her little pet. This shit is not me.

We get into the patrol and it's not long before Will's pissing me off and Xander's making vamp hunting pretty much impossible. The guy never stops talking. We haven't staked anything, not even an evil fucking fruit fly has passed us by. I'm itching to slay. Anything.

“Hey, B. Maybe you could get Angel to come rumble with us. My stake is itching for some action,” I say, twirling it around in my fingers.

“Funny,” she responds, rolling her eyes at me.

She's gotta know how much I don't like that guy – ha, guy? Rotten piece of dead flesh more like.

“I'm pretty sure he could take care of himself if he stumbled across you,” she continues.

“Yeah right,” I say with a chuckle. “He doesn't know how to 'take care' of you, so I doubt he'd have any kinda chance with me.”

The innuendo isn't lost on her and she glances at her friends, making sure they didn't get it. They have no clue. . .but maybe they should. Maybe it's time they knew about her. About how fucked up she can be. How far from perfect she is.

“Ain't that right, Blondie?” I add, wiggling my eyebrows at her.

Xander trips over a rock and Buffy shakes her head at me, telling me no. I don't like being told what to do, though. And hell, I feel drunk enough not to give a crap what any of them think.

“All that strength and experience and he doesn't know how to show you a good time like I. . .”

“Faith, shut up,” Buffy snaps at me.

I can see anger coursing through her, but more than that. . .I see fear. She's terrified of what they'll think, and she should be.

“Um, maybe we should go,” Willow says with a squeak, tugging on Xander's arm.

“Why? The night's just getting started,” I say. “'Course, it won't really start until you two leave so me and B can fu. . .”

Buffy rushes up to me and puts her hand over my mouth. It'd be kinda comical if she hadn't done it so hard; I'm gonna have a split lip.

“Go home, Faith. You're drunk. . .and a liability,” Buffy tells me, not moving her hand.

I grin behind her hand then take a bite. She lets go real fast, looking disgusted at me. It's not half as disgusted I am with myself for ever falling into her trap though, so it means nothing.

“Right, I'm the liability she says,” I say loudly, stepping out of Buffy's reach.

Xander and Willow are transfixed, even if they look like they wanna bolt and get away from the drama. And I just know Buffy's dying just a little inside right now. Hey, at least that way she'd have more in common with her dead fucking boyfriend.

“That's rich coming from the girl who can't even patrol properly lately 'cause she's too busy. . .”

“Don't do it, Faith,” Buffy implores, sounding a little desperate. Her eyes pleading with me though she's rooted to the spot.

“. . .wanting me to screw her senseless again and again just the way she likes. Perfect little Buffy and her perfect little pussy that's all mine, every night.”

The sound of the slap she gives me is more painful than it feels but I know I'm gonna have one hell of a red mark on my face from it. Weird that she chose to slap me when she coulda punched me or done one of her fancy kicks on me. Guess I really got her on the back foot.

The whole place gets totally quiet. Even the breeze isn't daring to make a sound. I see a tear start to roll down Buffy's cheek and her two friends are just stood with their mouths hanging open, waiting for something, for Buffy to say it isn't true. But she doesn't say anything right away, she just stares at me. Her eyes are hard and cold – even more than usual – and I know I just did the worst thing I could to her. I made her look bad in front of her friends. I made her look less special. Like me.

“Leave,” Buffy says finally under her breath at me, so full of barely contained anger.

Her hands are in tight fists at her side and I can tell she's doing her best not to lash out. I dunno why she isn't. She should be pummelling my face into the ground. She should be making it clear that I'm lying, and that she's still as perfect and amazing as everybody thinks.

“It ain't nothin' but the truth, Princess,” I say, backing away slowly. “They deserve to know the truth.”

My eyes are on her but I point towards the scoobs, who are still standing rock still, afraid to say a word. . .and probably majorly confused.

“It's nobody else's business,” she says shakily. “You had no right to. . .”

She doesn't finish, her words stolen by a sob that rips outta her. I should probably feel bad, but I feel nothing but good right now. This needed to happen. She needs to tell me to fuck off out of her life - out of Sunnydale - for us to break this habit we've got. I can't walk away. . .she needs to push me. She needs to know how much it hurts. I wanna make her hurt too.

“And you had no right to keep fucking me and running off to your boyfriend, but it didn't stop ya, B,” I say, feeling a lump in my throat that I don't want as I stop moving. As I forget that Willow and Xander are even there. “Didn't stop you using me. Using me to scratch that itch your dead boyfriend won't.”

I hear a little gasp from Willow, but I don't look her way. I don't care what they know or don't any more. It's gone beyond that.

“You were using me too,” Buffy cuts back, obviously not thinking fast enough to refute the whole thing.

I stare right into her eyes. I wanna tell her I wasn't using her. That all I fucking wanted was her. I don't. I keep it inside, burning and tearing at me.

“Um, as much as this whole thing is kinda. . .private,” Xander says, stepping towards Buffy slightly. “I just wanna make it clear that I'm not on team Angel. Yunno, if there's teams. . .and. . .”

Buffy glares at him and he steps away again next to Willow.

“I'll be over here now. . .being impartial. No plans to make little rainbow flags that say 'go team Faith',” he mumbles.

We all look at him kinda puzzled before Buffy clears her throat and gets the attention back again. She's looking even more pissed than ever.

“Ok, you've had your fun, Faith,” Buffy says coldly, moving towards me a step. “And you're right. . .what we've been doing is wrong. Totally and completely wrong. And it ends here. It's over.”

Her voice cracks but it sounds more like she's saying it for her friends' benefit than mine. I get it; she's making it clear she's the bigger person here 'cause she's the one putting an end to it. Always has to be the good guy, and I'm always the bad guy. Well fuck that. She can't walk away that easy. . .but I think now I can. I won't be around for her to treat like crap any more. I'm not gonna beg for the scraps from her table. Not now.

“Newsflash, Twinkie. I don't care,” I tell her. “I'm done with you. Done with. . .”

I think about everything we've done together; all the times we've clung to each other with heated skin and hot breaths. All the times she's opened herself right up to me and let me see right in. The touches, the kissing, the way she'd call out my name. The way she'd do everything right back, like it was her mission to please me just as much.

Blinking so I don't start crying like a sissy girl, I stare right into her eyes, ignoring what I see in them past the hurt and anger.

“I'm done with being nothing more to you than a fucking toy. I'm worth more than that. More than you,” I say, hard and cold. “I'm out of this crap hole.”

Her face crumbles a little and I can see she's fighting something back – either crying or the need to beat the crap outta me. Probably both. I shake my head, feeling pity for the both of us, and turn to walk away.

My heart is in my mouth, choking me as I pick up the pace and get the hell away from her. I don't hear her following. I don't hear her say anything. It's all quiet. Quiet around me, and in my head – yunno, past all the screaming that's going on in it. I know habits are hard to kick and walking away is never as easy as just. . .walking away, but I have to do this. I have to ignore the screams of fear and warnings of pain. I swallow it down. I leave her behind.

When I get back to my motel I'm more determined than ever. This is the best decision I've made all month. This is the right thing to do.

Pulling my bag out from under my bed, I start stuffing my clothes in, paying no attention to the odd tear that drips onto them as I fight to shut my heart up as it tries to tell me things I've never wanted to hear. It's lying to me, betraying me. I never fell for her. Stopped myself doing it a hundred times.

I move around the room, throwing things into the bag, feeling more angry than sad. Feeling more lost than hopeful. Taking big swigs from the bottle of Jack I have open on the side, I focus on what I've gotta do and where I'm gonna head. LA's not far, I could hop on a bus and get swallowed up by the big city lights and bad places I'll end up in. No more answering to Giles, to Buffy. I'll do my own thing. Make my own place. I'm a slayer and it's about time I stood by myself. Nothing's gonna get in my way this time.

As I yank everything off the small shelf in the bathroom and push them into the spaces left in my bag, I almost miss the knock on the door. It stops me on the second knock and I stand looking in the cracked mirror at myself. My eyes are red and cheeks damp. I smell like alcohol and look like shit. And I know it's Buffy at my door. I can feel her. Hell, I don't have to be a slayer to feel her.

“Faith?” I hear her call through the door.

She knows I'm in here, no use pretending.

Swiping at my face and running my hands through my hair, I stand tall. My heart is pounding and I hate it. I hate that she came. Hate that she won't just leave me alone. She has to be in control. She has to have the last word. Cause the last bruise.

I pause at the door, my hand hovering over the handle as I feel her on the other side. If I concentrate it practically feels like she's pressed right against me. Every breath she takes pushing her into me. Every beat of her heart thudding against my own chest. Her heat, her smell, the softness of her skin. . .like a memory that's burned into me.

There were times I wanted her to stay after we'd fucked here. Times I just wanted to hold on and not watch her walk out of the door without looking back. I wanted that heat, her smell, her flesh pressed against mine to last all night. Never cared for being close to somebody like that after sex before, but the last few times with Buffy. . .it's all I wanted. But she never stayed. She always left me cold; wrapped in sheets that screamed of her scent, with marks on my skin that told me I was hers even if she didn't really want me.

Slowly, I open the door, ready for fists, for shouting, for anything she might wanna throw at me for fucking with her perfect life. I probably deserve everything she might wanna do to me, and more. I stepped outta line, and she's here to make sure I know how much better than me she is.

When I open up enough to see her face peering outta the shadows from the doorway, I step back. There's a mix of hurt, anger and desperation on her face. I try to work it all out but give in without putting in to much effort. It's pointless trying to figure her out any more.

I'm not prepared for the tears I see easing from her glistening eyes, or the way she stumbles forwards into me after she glances over to my bulging duffel bag. Her arms wrap around me and she hides her face in my neck. I feel wet tears cascading over me as small sobs cause her to rattle against me.

She's not saying anything, just sobbing, and I don't know what to do. I don't know why she's acting this way. I push the door closed until it clicks shut and hesitate before letting my arms hold her, hands gently settling on her back. I can feel my body reacting; months of holding back welling to the surface. My heart ripping open to let her in before I can stop it. I need to stop it before it's too late.

“B,” I say, the hoarse grind of my voice ratting me out when I wanna stay safe and sobering me up. “You gotta stop.”

I pull back, leaving my hands on her shoulders as she stands before me looking lost and afraid. Her eyes look up into mine and I can see her searching; searching for me, and searching for words. I frown and she drops her head and eyes, fresh tears spilling out all her secrets. She shakes her head, trying to breathe, trying to speak.

“Don't,” she says, so quiet I almost can't hear. “Don't leave.”

I want to crumble and tell her I wont, that I can't, but that's giving in. That's letting the drug win, and allowing the hurt to continue.

“I have to,” I tell her, not much louder and not very convincing.

She should be happy I'm getting out of her life. I won't be her nasty little secret any more and she could carry on with her sham of a relationship, and her neat little existence. I know she likes me fucking her, but surely she should be happy that she could get back to normal.

“You don't have to,” she says a little stronger, looking at me again. “It doesn't need to be this way.”

What way? Her and me making each other insane? That's the only way it can be. It's the only way either of us can allow it to be. The way she's made it.

“It's how you want it, B,” I point out.

Her face hardens; green eyes boring into mine as she tries to control the tears and the inevitability of all we are.

“It's not,” she says. “I was fooling myself.”

I don't exactly get what she means, but I don't get to ask about it. Buffy steps forwards into my personal space again, her hands reaching out and holding my face tenderly as her lips capture mine. I can't help but sigh into her mouth as she takes from me, savours me, wraps me up again in her madness and need. I don't want this but I kiss her back. I hate this, but I hold her close to me and taste her, feel her, give in to her for what's probably the last time. It has to be the last time 'cause I know nothing will ever really change, no matter how much she doesn't wanna lose the great times we've had before the reality would pull her off me and out the door.

Buffy leans into me and I feel every curve, every muscle moving, every bit of her wanting. This is when I normally revel in how much she wants me. This is when I'd give her what she wants. Show her what I have to give. Not this time.

Warning my head not to spin and my heart not to cling I step back again, my lips tingling and body buzzing.

“I'm not gonna play this game any more, Buffy,” I say as firmly as I can. “We had fun, but it's not fun now.”

She looks at me strangely, like she's trying to figure something out. Her eyes glide through mine, swimming deep into me. There's only so much of that I can take so I look away and move towards my bed, grabbing my bag and forcing the zip closed.

There's nothing she could do to change my mind. Nothing other than what I can't dare myself to want anyway. The only way for us to go is down from here unless everything changes and she sees me as more than what she does. But for her to see me as more, I have to see me as more, and I don't think I'm ready for that.

“Faith, talk to me,” she says finally as I place my bag down on the floor.

“B, it's over, and that's the way it should be so let's talk about what?” I ask, rubbing at my aching head with my hand.

She sighs and doesn't seem to have an answer. Like I thought, nothing's gonna change.

We stand in silence for what seems like forever. Her hands are just hanging at her sides, gaze wandering around the room; probably only just seeing it for what it is. I don't know what she's thinking and right now I'm past caring. Or at least that's what I'm trying to convince myself. I do care, and it's wrong that I do. I should be able to just grab my bag right now and walk out of the door. . .so what's stopping me?

“You shouldn't have. . .said all that in front of my friends,” Buffy eventually tells me, looking my way again.

Shoulda known it was all about her precious rep.

“Kinda wasn't thinkin' clear,” I say in my defence, not that I should have to defend myself.

“I know,” she says softly. “It's my fault.”

I look back at her then. Right at her.

She's saying it's her fault? Since when did Buffy take the blame for anything bad? I clutch the back of my neck and frown deeply, my mind in pieces, not knowing which way is up or down, or which way to turn for the best.

I don't speak 'cause I have no clue what to say. This is the most we've talked since. . .well since we started screwin' each other. After that, talk didn't seem important. Didn't seem necessary. It was just looks and touches, then her coldness and her quiet.

“Look,” I say, pausing as the atmosphere grows thick and apprehensive, “there's no point fighting about this. No point driving each other nuts. I'm getting outta your way so you can go back to. . .”

“What if I don't wanna go back?” Buffy says, interrupting.

I give her a puzzled look and she holds my gaze with hers. I see honesty in her eyes, but I'm still lost here. Still wondering which way up I'm gonna land.

“What you said. . .before,” she begins, “you were right. What we've – what I've been doing is wrong.”

It feels uncomfortable just letting her stand there and blame herself, but I guess I caused that. We're both wrong, though. Both stupid for getting into something neither of us could handle.

“No point in passing blame now, B. We should never have. . .”

“Don't say that,” she says, taking a step towards me. “I'm glad we did. It should have been different, though. I should have been different.”

Tears start falling from her eyes again and I try to look away and not care.

“Can't change it now,” I say with obvious regret, shrugging my shoulders and crossing my arms so they don't reach out to pull her to me.

Buffy wipes at her cheeks, catching the tears and brushing them aside.

“Maybe we can,” she says, with a faint smile that makes my insides burn for her. “Maybe I can.”

She moves further towards me again and I realise I can't back away. Not because I don't want to, but because I'm too damn close to the wall already – if I move back I'll be up against it, and that would just bring back the memory of her once fucking me right there.

When I don't respond – too busy fighting my memories and attempting to find my feet in all this – she continues, stopping close enough to me to lean in and kiss. . .which I don't, and hope she doesn't if I'm gonna keep my sense here.

“I talked with Will and Xander,” she says. “They're pretty mad at me for not saying anything, but madder that. . .well, that it seems like I'm just using you, 'cause I'm still with Angel.”

I can't help but pull a face when she mentions his name. I'm not deluded enough to think I'm the one for her and not him, but still. . .gotta be better just screwin' around with me than watching him mope and drink pig's blood from a fucking mug.

“They made me realise some things. . .but it's not just my fault,” she goes on. “It's your fault too.”

Yeah, my fault for finding her all hot and sexy and not being able to think with anything but my pussy around her. I know I've fucked up, but it was like I was acting on impulse. Unable to do anything but fall under her spell. Under her touch. She drew me in and I was willing to go.

“I'm not dumb, B,” I say. “I got into it and it's up to me to get out of it. I'm not a kid, I knew what we were doing and. . .”

“Faith, shut up,” she says, the small grin making it less of a demand – a demand that would make me mad. “I mean. . .I never knew where I stood with you.”

She sighs and sits heavily on the bed. I keep standing, it's safer that way.

“Until tonight,” she continues, “I thought you were happy with the way things were. You always told me you're not the relationship type, and I guess. . .well I guess I was stupid.”

This is getting uncomfortable. I'm not into talking about shit like this, even though we need to do this if we're gonna work it out and it's not gonna end with me walking out the door. I have to do my part 'cause she's going out on a limb here.

“We're both probably stupid,” I correct. “Though obviously I'm not as stupid as you.”

I wink at her and she smiles. It's the kind of smile I've missed over the last month. She kept it from me, hid it away for everybody but me to see. The only smiles I've been getting are naughty ones, and though they're fucking great. . .I still miss that cute little half smile.

“I'm definitely not the relationship type,” I continue, being honest, “but - and this is where I get to look like a total dork and you get to gloat – only getting to fuck you, and then having you carry on with the rest of your life like I'm not even in it? Not as fun for me as I woulda thought it would be.”

“Not so much fun for me either,” she mumbles, looking down at her hands. “I mean. . .the sex was fun. Lots of fun,” she continues, looking up at me and nodding enthusiastically. “But I messed up with the rest of it.”

I chuckle a little and flop down onto the bed beside her, trying to keep my distance as we sit on the edge. I hold my breath for a second before asking what I need to. I shouldn't ask, I should just stick by what I wanted to do. I should still leave so we're not driving each other insane. I should leave before she tells me she'll always choose Angel over me.

“So what now?” I ask. “I can't go back to. . .to just being there to fuck. And I can't stick around while you make happy with Angel and keep me out of the loop.”

It would hurt too much.

Buffy turns towards me, her hand resting behind me on the bed. There's a look in her eyes that I'm not sure I've seen before. It's like fear, but not. She seems worried about what she's gonna say next. Maybe I should be too.

“I don't want to go back to that, and I don't. . .look, I know I messed up,” she says, “and you should probably get out while you can, but I don't want to lose what we had.”

Furrowing my brow I shake my head. She's talking in circles and I don't know which way round I'm meant to follow. She either doesn't want things to change or she does, but right now I can't tell which it is, and I'm not going to wait around to be used as her lap-dog any more.

“Buffy, I'm not gonna wait around with my legs spread for you hoping you'll fucking dump your dead boyfriend and start including me in your life,” I say harshly. “I told you, I'm worth more than that. May not seem it and I sure as shit don't feel it most days, but. . .”

“Stop,” she tells me, placing her hand on my cheek and making me look at her. “I don't want you to wait around with your legs spread for me – though that's a really nice visual,” she says leering a little. “I want more than that too. I was scared of it, then I wanted to run, but I couldn't stop wanting you. And then, well. . .I was sure you wouldn't want anything more, so I tried not to get involved. I tried to stop myself from. . .”

Her thumb strokes over my cheek in a way she's never done before; all soft and nice and nothing to do with just fucking. It doesn't seem like she's about to finish her sentence – her eyes full of that subtle fear again.

“Tried to stop yourself from what?” I push, needing to know so I can work out if running really is the better option.

Her hand drops from my cheek and I miss it right away.

“Faith, just believe me when I tell you I really don't want you to leave. Believe that I won't go back to being such a bitch.”

It would be easy to laugh, but I don't. She knows she can be a prize bitch, and she's been it to me plenty. I don't see how things can change, and it's pretty damn scary thinking of how they could change. I've never wanted the whole 'more' with anybody. Fucking was all I ever needed from anybody I let get that close. It's always been different with Buffy.

I get up from the bed and start pacing a little in front of Buffy. She always messes with my head, and right now I need to think clear. I was all set to go, to save whatever I had left of my dignity. I'd made my mind up that I didn't need anybody but me. I don't want her friends, her time, her. At least that's what I was convincing myself of.

“This is kinda lame,” I mumble, stopping by the window, facing away from Buffy.

“I know,” Buffy says softly.

She gets up from the bed and moves behind me. I can sense she wants to get closer and I try not to hold myself stiff as her hands slide over the tops of my arms as I keep them crossed. She doesn't push too far; not quite pressing into me or holding me, but just keeping close.

“This whole thing has been. . .kind of crazy for me,” she admits.

The heat of her breath easing over my shoulder makes me wanna shudder and sigh into her arms, but I'm not gonna make a fool of myself. Not now I've finally stopped doing that.

“I've been trying to cling to what I thought was going to keep me sane, but. . .it only made things worse, and it hasn't been fair on you,” she says. “I should have broken up with him when I realised I couldn't stay away from you.”

I can hear the apology in her voice even if she isn't outright telling me sorry. Still, I feel like some kinda drug habit she hates having. A thing she wants to get away from. My body shifts as I tense up and Buffy rests her forehead against my shoulder.

“It's coming out all wrong huh,” she says with a sigh.

“Depends how you want it to come out, B,” I tell her.

“I want you to know. . .” she stops and I can feel her getting tense, trying to force the words out. I don't want her to force stuff though, it's not right.

“Hey, I'm not a fucking idiot, and I don't need you yanking my chain any more than you have,” I say angrily, turning around to face her, making her drop her arms from around me.

“I'm not yanking,” she says quickly. “I just don't know what to say that's not gonna make you leave, or think I'm stupid or pathetic, or. . .I just want to be with you.”

I watch as she rubs her forehead with her palm, tears starting to well in her eyes again. Her words are sitting in my skull and I'm doing my best to listen, but I've got a lifetime of being let down to wade through before I can believe what she's saying.

“You mean you wanna keep fucking me?” I ask slowly, holding my jaw tight for the reply.

“No,” she exclaims, before furrowing her brow and rolling her eyes at herself. “Well actually I mean yes. I'd be certifiable if I didn't still want that.”

She blushes a little before continuing – it's kinda cute considering all the fucking we've done and where.

“But I want more than just that,” she confesses, trying to look me in the eye.

I can see she's nervous of what I'll say. I'm pretty much stumped, though. I thought it was just me.

My lips are dry and I lick them slowly, hoping my mind catches up on what's been said so I can say something back without sounding like a dick. Buffy watches my tongue, her pupils dilating and her lips parting without her probably even knowing. I know she wants me, but can I trust that she won't just keep using me the way she has, and that I won't do it right back? I couldn't take her shutting down or running off to Angel now. Never again.

I swallow hard and force myself to be honest. To put myself out there no matter what.

“We can have more, if that's what you want,” I say quietly, trying to look everywhere but at Buffy.

She comes closer to me and I see the small smile on her face.

“I do, if it's what you want too.”

I chuckle and shake my head. What the hell are we getting in to? We can't work this out without going in circles.

Without saying anything more I grab her by the waist and pull her in to my body. My lips are on hers before she can barely squeal and we're kissing like there's no tomorrow. I can't help it, I want her in the biggest way. She gets a tick in all the boxes. She's all I could ask for and I don't wanna share any longer. As much as I don't have a clue about relationships, and as much as I've never even wanted one. . .I want this one. I want her friendship. I want her to be mine.

Isn't long before things get kinda heated and we fall on to the bed. Words and thoughts fly outta my head and I don't think to find out how we're gonna go about being 'more', I just need her skin against mine, her heat all over me.

She tugs at my top and it gets thrown aside as I pull Buffy out of hers. We start wriggling, trying to quickly get out of our pants and kick our shoes off and that's when she starts giggling. I lay next to her on my back with my hands pushing at my jeans that are too damn tight, and she lays there facing me in nothing but panties, laughing. I'd get pissed if she wasn't so cute, and if I wasn't trying my best to look for that good thing we could have if we reached for it.

“Think it's funny huh?” I ask playfully as I finally kick my jeans off to the floor.

She looks up at me, her eyes wide as I give her a fake glare. It's weird, but I don't remember us ever giggling and being playful when sex was on our minds. We'd normally just get right down to it. Maybe things have changed already.

“Not funny, just cute,” she responds, pulling me down on top of her so we're skin on skin and I'm feeling whole again.

We kiss and touch like it's the first time once we lose the last piece of clothing getting in our way. I feed off her sighs and moans and she holds me so close I feel surrounded by her. She comes against my pussy and I see tears in her eyes. I kiss them away and feel my heart bursting in a way I always tried to stop. I don't think I can stop it this time. I'm in big trouble now if this just ends up the same as it normally would – with her grabbing her clothes and leaving after the coming is done.

“Why're you crying?” I ask softly, stroking my hand over her cheek as I lean over her.

She touches me back, fingers soft on my face as her eyes stay open and clear to me for a change as we stay wrapped in each other.

“Because. . .this is what I want,” she says.

“And that's making you cry?” I question, raising an eyebrow.

She nods and another tear rolls down her cheek.

“It changes everything,” she tells me. “I mean, it's a good thing, but scary.”

I need her to explain so I lean down and pull the covers over us, snuggling back next to her when she gives me a gentle smile. I slide my leg up over hers and lean on my elbow looking down at her, fingers running softly through her hair. I thought it would be weird being like this with her, but it's not. Every time she ran off after being with me in my motel room. . .I wanted this. I wanted her to stay, even if it was just for a while.

“I can't go back to just being. . .”

“I know you can't,” Buffy says, interrupting me. Obviously getting that I can't go back to just being her fuck-toy again. “I can't either.”

She leans up a little way and gives me soft kisses that make my stomach flutter and my body tingle. I love the hot and needy kisses she gives me, but these are a nice change.

“I'll break up with Angel right away,” she tells me, resting back down and gazing up at me. “And I won't keep us a secret. . .if that's ok.”

I nod, trying not to let the huge goofy grin out that's threatening to make me look stupid.

“My mom's gonna flip but she'll. . .”

“Whoa, wait up there, Blondie,” I say, raising my eyebrows at her. “You'd tell your mom? Are you nuts? She'll kill me.”

Buffy starts chuckling, but it soon turns into a loud laugh, right in my face.

“You're scared of my mom?” she asks.

“Hell yeah,” I reply, wondering how fast I could get the next bus to LA. Maybe my first plan was the safer one.

“It'll be fine. . .yunno, after the freaking out, and the lecture, and maybe a trip to the school counsellor,” she says, still chuckling.

I shake my head and flop down onto my back. Buffy quickly takes advantage and scurries on top of me, straddling me as she leans over me.

“I don't wanna lose you, Faith,” she says. “I came too close to that tonight and I didn't like it.”

Her position above me is all kinds of distracting, but I try to focus on what she's telling me.

“Couldn't take it any more, B,” I say quietly. “It hurt.”

I know I just said something big 'cause her eyes went all wide and dreamy. I know why; if it hurts, that means I care. It means there's more to this than I'd dare to admit. More than I could hold back from. As much as I tried not to, I fell for her. I fell and she was never there to catch me.

She looks down, a guilty expression shadowing her features before I nudge her head back up to me and kiss her. She doesn't let me linger and pulls back to look in my eyes. I see wonder, apprehension, need, hope. I see right into her, all of her. I've only ever seen her depths when I'm making her come, so this is new. I like it. She's not guarding herself.

“It hurt me too,” she says, a small frown creasing her forehead. “But I didn't know what to do.”

“And now you do?” I ask.

Her face changes and she looks more determined. Resolute in what she's decided.

“Now I know I can't let you go. And I can't pretend that Angel makes me feel anywhere near as much as you do, in every way. And I know I. . .I can't stop falling for you,” she practically whispers. “Every time we were together I fought not to. I ran, I hid, I shut you out. . .and I was so, so stupid.”

More tears start splashing from her eyes and I pull her to me, holding tight. Holding on 'cause my heart is soaring and I'm afraid if I don't hang on to something I'm gonna float right outta the fucking window.

I try to soothe her with soft words and kisses, and I feel tears start pricking my eyes as she whispers that she loves me.

Part of me wants to throw her off and tell her she can't love me. Nobody ever loves Faith. I'm not the lovable kind. But mostly I just wanna cling to her and feel her heart beating right against me. I want to feel her love, and as she starts kissing over my face and neck and over the rest of my body. . .I swear I do.

Every kiss is like a silent apology; it sweeps me up and before I know it she's between my legs and I'm sighing her name and telling her I've fallen for her too.

“I won't hurt you again,” she promises.

I might be crazy but I believe her, and I let her take me soft and slow as she tastes me with her tongue, spreading me for her as she repays me for earlier and then some. I gasp into the air full of our scent, finding her head with one hand just so I can stay connected to her. My hips lift up as she teases, her tongue flicking over my clit and then sliding down low to push inside me.

It's always so good when she goes down on me, but it feels different. It feels like we're both right here with no place else we'd rather be. Right here with the sounds of our breathing and the creak of the bed. The heat that's draping over us and clinging to our skin as we make each other hot and wet and crazy with lust. The need and desire that neither of us could escape.

This isn't just fucking any more. It's so much more.

“Oh, fuck,” I moan out loud, trembling as Buffy sucks on my pussy until I come right in her mouth.

I'm glad I didn't leave. Glad she didn't let me. I wouldn't trade this for the world. I have her now – I feel it. One hundred percent, Buffy is mine.

And I'm hers.

“You're so sexy when you come,” Buffy tells me as she crawls back up my body, her smile holding me entranced. “And even sexier just after.”

I give her a slightly puzzled look, but I can't move so just let her drape over me and keep smiling. She's taking her time just gazing at me, eyes full of a peace I haven't seen before.

“Can I stay?” she asks softly.

Wondering if I'm hearing right I raise an eyebrow. She looks away shyly and I instantly want her eyes back on me.

“If you want to,” I reply.

“Do you?” she pushes.

I laugh and slap my hand against my forehead.

“We have to stop doing this, Twinkie,” I tell her. “We both want the same thing.”

She chuckles with me and reaches for the phone by the bed.

“Then I'd better tell my mom I'll be spending the night with my very sexy, very totally unleaveable girlfriend.”

Trying to hide my spluttering I look at her like she's crazy. Thing is, Buffy always does what she wants, and gets what she wants. I shoulda known she'd want the girlfriend thing, and the cheesy stuff and the hand holding, and the telling the world. What the hell - I can't complain, I've got exactly what I want too.

No more hating her when she leaves 'cause now I'm too busy loving her for staying.