“Faith, I am not joking, now give it back,” Buffy whined as she skipped over the small gravestone, trying to catch hold of her fellow Slayer.

“Come on, I’m just gonna take a peak, Anne Frank,” Faith jibed.

Faith successfully side stepped the lunging blonde, who was doing her best to retrieve the diary she had been busy scribbling in.

It was a nice, warm, and heavily lunar-lit night, and Buffy had decided to take time out in her slaying schedule to sit down amongst the headstones and graves, and order some of her thoughts into the small black diary she had recently taken to jotting in.

She hadn’t planned on Faith rounding the corner and spotting her. Of course, they had planned to meet up, but Buffy thought she had at least ten minutes or so before Faith was due to show. Unfortunately, and unusually for Faith, the younger Slayer had actually arrived early.

Buffy knew that the instant she was caught writing in a diary, Faith was going to laugh, mock, and grab. She was hoping she could evade that last one, but Faith had been quick. As soon as the laughing had stopped, the hand had shot out, and her diary was gone. In the clutches of the one person, ok, not the one person. . .but the main person she did not under any circumstance want it in the clutches of.

“Now let’s see what we have. . .” Faith said, flicking to the last page as Buffy darted this way and that, unproductive in her attempts to get her very secret diary back.

She hadn’t been writing in it long, but there were things in there she most certainly didn’t want anybody reading. She didn’t want anyone, Faith especially, knowing her private thoughts right now. They were private. . .and they were mainly about the girl being uncannily slippery.

“Please. . .don’t,” Buffy pleaded, knowing it was futile.

Faith was not the kind of girl who would think twice about reading somebody else’s diary. She was a bad girl who didn’t care about what other people thought, or how she might hurt their feelings. And yes, feelings were involved. Feelings that Buffy was unsure of how to deal with, hence the reason she was writing things down to try to make sense of them.

Jumping up onto a tomb, far out of reach of her little blonde friend, Faith read aloud the last passage in the tiny book.

“She has hair that looks like it could wrap me up and keep me warm. Soft and waiting for me to bury my face in it and breathe her in. Her scent. . .I want to bottle it and spray it all over myself so it feels like she’s with me all the time, instead of being God knows where, with hell knows who.” The brunette leaped from tomb to tomb, constantly out of reach. “I want to feel her skin against me. Hot against me. Jesus Buffy, what is this?” Faith called out to the mortified Slayer.

“Just give me it back, or I swear. . .” Buffy whined. She couldn’t believe what was happening.

Buffy wanted to turn and run. She wished she’d never started writing in the damn thing. Wished she’d never met Faith and started thinking about her in ways she shouldn’t have been about another girl.

A girl like Faith.

Faith’s voice resounded around the graveyard, “Touching me everywhere, like when I dream of her. I dreamt of her last night, and she was beautiful, as ever. She was all flame and danger and I wanted her.” Faith’s normally husky tone lowered even further, her voice beginning to lose its mocking lilt. “I wanted to touch and kiss, like I do when I see her. When she smiles at me with those perfect lips that just seem to be begging for my tongue to taste them. When she laughs, and I know she’s making fun of me but I get weak at the knees, and my whole body wants her against it.”

The cemetery grew quiet but for Faith’s sultry voice cutting the warm air, stopping Buffy in her tracks as she was captivated by its raw sexual sound.

“Faith,” Buffy said quietly.

Buffy could feel tears welling in her eyes, as she stood at the foot of the tomb Faith was standing on, unable to move now and stop the inevitable.

“I hate that I want her,” Faith continued reading. “I hate that I feel so weak around her.”

Buffy could see that Faith was trying to work out who the passage was about, her forehead was creased a little in concentration, and Buffy was frozen. Afraid. . .because any minute, Faith would know.

“But right now, most of all, I hate that I never got to go to Homecoming with her properly,” Faith read. “I never even got to find out if it was meant to be. . .a date or something. I know I wanted it to be. I know I. . .”

There was nothing more written for Faith to read, and trickles of salt made their way down Buffy’s cheeks.

Buffy stood, horrified and ashamed that she had been caught having thoughts she didn’t want Faith knowing about. She didn’t want to be ridiculed or labeled as something she was sure she wasn’t. She didn’t want to lose the hope of real friendship she might have with Faith.

Looking up to see Faith gazing down at her, her dark eyes pools of mystery and now confusion, Buffy couldn’t stand to be part of what happened next, sure that Faith would tease her and make her feel small and ugly and stupid for feeling the way she did. So she turned and ran. She pushed branches aside, her rationality, her sense, her small hope that maybe Faith felt the same about her, and had the same thoughts as she did. Wanted the same thing. She pushed it all aside in her haste to escape.

Buffy was too afraid to wait and find out if Faith did indeed feel the same, she was too confused in her own emotions to imagine that Faith would do anything other than grin that tough girl grin, and laugh.

It was far from funny for Buffy though, as she had been agonizing over her more than friendly feelings for Faith for weeks, hating that her life couldn’t just be simple for once. She didn’t want to lust after somebody else she wasn’t meant to want. She was just getting over Angel, her running away debacle, and her mother’s constant worry.

Dealing with Faith was another thing that she just didn’t know how to handle.

* * *

Faith stood stunned as Buffy ran off into the night. Her legs were stuck to the spot, or more accurately, they were numb and really in no fit state to carry her on. She hadn’t expected. . .couldn’t have expected that reading Buffy’s little diary would have her unable to organize her thoughts.

Faith had started out reading in jest, until what she was reading actually began to reach her brain, and then she had been unable to stop herself. As the words had dripped huskily from her lips, Faith realized that she should have stopped, that what she was reading wasn’t something she should be mocking. It was obviously a very personal account of something. There was something deep within the words.

But then her brain actually registered the words, and it was telling her to find out who exactly Buffy had been writing about in the way she had. As soon as realization hit, she was dumbstruck.

Despite all her cockiness and her self-confident air, Faith had never dreamed that Buffy would be interested in her. Of course, she’d flirted with the older girl, and risked a few slightly inappropriate touches during sparring, but she had done it more in jest than anything else. In an attempt to get a reaction out of the girl she thought could do with injecting a little ‘bad’ into her goodness.

Faith had never imagined that what she was doing would actually have Buffy wanting more. It wasn’t something Faith had really thought about too much because of how sure she was of Buffy’s unwillingness to dare to be different, to dare to look beyond what she thought of as wrong and right. Of what most people thought of as wrong and right.

Faith was well aware that they were not just most people however. They were different, and they had a link between them, much stronger than the petty judgments and fake morals of those who would sneer at any deeper relationship between them. Buffy seemed to be judging herself, however, and it was obviously raising questions.

From what little Faith had read, she could clearly see that Buffy was attracted to her, but was drowning in the sea of possibilities and expected recriminations that she was obviously sure would follow.

Faith wasn’t so worried about what other people thought, and now that she knew Buffy was definitely interested, she was determined not to let the chance slip by. She had wanted the other girl from the moment she’d first laid eyes on her, hopefully now things could get interesting.

Before she rushed off after Buffy, jumping in with both feet, Faith thought it would be best to make sure Buffy really was interested. She flicked back a page in the small diary she still had gripped in her hand. Running a finger over the attractive writing, she read the recent thoughts of her slaying partner. She knew she shouldn’t, but it was just too tempting, and the easiest way to discover how she could play things when it came down to getting Buffy to actually open up to her face to face.

She browsed over an entry dated the day Faith had asked Buffy to the homecoming dance. She read the account quietly to herself.

I’m stunned. Faith asked me to the dance. Or at least I think she did. That’s the way it sounded, but then all she really said was that we may as well go together, because of the whole Scott thing. What I was thinking when I agreed to date him, I have no idea. Anyway, I can’t wait for Homecoming. I don’t care if I come last. As long as Faith doesn’t run off with some guy, I’ll be happy. God, I’d be even happier if she were to dance with me, maybe get close so I can feel her heat. It drives me crazy when we spar and she’s right up against me, pushing against me. It gets me so wet. I worry that she can smell how aroused I get, so I end up acting like a little bitch and pissing her off so I can get away. I wish it were simpler.

I had the dream again last night. The one where she takes me back to her motel and. . .God, it makes me blush just thinking about it. I’ve never even thought of a guy in such a graphic way before. I don’t know what it is, but I can’t stop thinking about her, and fantasizing about her. I can’t stop wanting her. No matter how hard I try. And the really annoying thing is, I really don‘t know how she feels about me. I can’t tell, even with the flirting, because she flirts with everyone. I‘d love to know if she sees me as more than just someone to slay with. I hope she does. I want her to want me too.

Faith ran a hand through her luscious dark hair, wondering what was in Buffy’s dream exactly. She could practically feel the desire scorched into the page, and she was wracking her brain to try to recall any obvious signs that Buffy had been fantasizing about her. She could only remember shy smiles and over the top reactions to her flirting.

She read on, thumbing back a few pages, hoping to find any mention of the dream again. This entry was around the time they thought Oz had gone a little too ‘grrr’.

I’m finding it harder and harder to stop thinking about Faith. In a sexual way. Every time she touches me, or just stands a little too close, I wanna kiss her, I wanna feel those sexy lips against mine. Her hands in my hair, and on my body. I get so hot around her. I’m sure she must be able to tell, so I’ve been trying to be as indifferent as I can. I hope she doesn’t think that I don’t like her. I’m just scared of how she makes me feel. I’ve never thought about another girl like this.

I had a dream last night that blew me away on so many levels. It started with us on patrol, the usual Vamp dust fest that slaying with Faith is. Then I got hurt, and she was instantly by my side, not unlike the way she actually does react when I’m injured. Anyway, she helped me back to her motel room, because it was closer, and she sat me on her bed. It felt so real, like I was actually there. Her smell surrounded me and I wanted more of it. I wanted to smell her. . .Jesus, I’m blushing just thinking about it, but I wanted to smell her getting wet for me. I wanted to have sex with her, and as she walked towards me, her usual swagger entrancing me, I knew she felt something too.

She sat beside me on the bed, looking into my eyes like nobody had ever done before, kinda like I feel she does even when I’m not dreaming or fantasizing. I have never felt so captivated by someone. She outdoes Angel in heating me up. . .by a long shot (sorry Angel). She lifted her hand to my cheek, and I knew she could see the desire in my eyes, but instead of feeling embarrassed about it like I really do, I felt confident, and sure that she was feeling the same. I reached out and touched her face too, trailing my thumb over one of those beautiful and sexy dimples. Her skin was so soft and her eyes closed for a second.

Then things began to change. I could feel the heat, like fire, pulsing from Faith. Her eyes were so dark and I fell right into them. She moved towards me so quick, I wasn’t sure what was happening until she was on top of me, kissing me. God, those lips. I could write a novel about them. Unfortunately, this journal isn’t big enough to describe everything exactly the way it felt in my dream, so I’ll have to water it down. Hopefully, the small amount of description will be enough to jog my memory when I look back on this; when Faith has left town, without knowing how I feel, leaving me lost again without her.

Faith stopped for a minute to take a breather. She was heating up with Buffy’s account of her dream already. And the last part, of her being left behind by Faith, almost brought a tear to her eyes with the depth of emotion there. She’d had no idea that Buffy felt so strongly about their connection, on any level. She continued, once she had reprimanded herself for thinking too much about what Buffy’s words implied.

I could feel her body against mine, so intimate even with our clothes still on. Faith’s leg fell between my thighs and I shuddered as she pushed down. I was so wet already. I snuck my fingers into her long dark hair, drowning in the feel of her kissing me. Tonguing my lips and mouth. I could taste her, and even though it was just a dream, it was amazing. Faith started hungrily kissing my ears and neck, moving down, sweeping me up in the overwhelming sensation of her hurriedly removing my clothes, ripping her own off to join them on the floor. She was going to take me, and I’d never felt so aroused in my entire. . .all be it fairly short. . .life. I wanted her to, I wanted it, I want it right now, so much.

She lay back down on top of me once she’d removed our clothes and I moaned out loud when her naked body hit mine. She moved between my legs and I thought I was gonna die with how much of her I could feel pressing into me. Her beautiful breasts, her flat stomach resting on mine, her. . .her pussy (I’m blushing again). I could feel her arousal, dripping onto me, into me, as I was lying with her between my legs. There is no way I can even begin to describe the feeling. God, I can honestly say, if I ever get the chance to feel her against me like that in reality I might actually die. It was perfect.

We rubbed against each other, kissing and touching everywhere we could. It felt wonderful, like I’d found something so special. Discovered something so intimate that only we could share. And in a way, because of the depth of our Slayer connection, that was completely true. It wasn’t long before she had kissed me all over, sucking on my nipples until I was crying out for more, loving the feel of her hot wet mouth on me, pleasuring only me.

Faith looked at me, a slightly cocky grin playing across her lips, the grin that I secretly love. She slowly moved her hand down from the nipple she was teasing, down across my stomach, and I could already feel myself shuddering with anticipation. We both groaned as her fingers slipped over my pussy, dipping into the abundance of fluid. I was so turned on, I didn’t even think about the fact I’d only ever had sex once before. I just wanted her so much.

“I’m gonna fuck you, B. I’m gonna take you just the way you want me to. Make your pussy all mine,” is what she said to me. Jesus, it makes me shiver just thinking about the sound of her sexy voice saying that. Telling me exactly what I wanted to hear.

She slipped around in my soaked pussy, rubbing against me, fingering my clit and making me whimper for her, moan for her, call her name out for anybody that might have been in a five mile radius to hear. She was so good, and I’d never felt so ready to just burst. Then she slipped her fingers lower, teased my opening, causing me to spread my legs further open for her, and she plunged her fingers into me. Right up inside my pussy, fucking me deeper and harder than I would have thought I could take, but I was loving it, because it was Faith doing it. She had her fingers inside me and it felt so good.

I can almost feel it just thinking about it. How her fingers rubbed up inside me, pushed in as far as she could get them as I rode them, rolling my hips in time with her thrusts. I was so wet, it’s all I could hear above my moaning and Faith’s groaning. I could feel myself right on the edge. I was so ready to come for her. I wanted to come all over her hand, all over her bed so she had to sleep with my come soaking into her sheets. She leant down and whispered in my ear, “You’re so fucking sexy, I want your come all over me, then I’m gonna sit on your face so you can lick my wet little pussy out.” That was it. . .I was coming so hard just imagining her dripping into my mouth. I screamed her name and clung to her, shuddering beneath her strong body, but then the dream faded. She was gone before I could tell her how much I. . .I’d enjoyed it, and how much I wanted to make her come for me too.

I woke up in a mess, metaphorically and literally. I was wet and horny as hell. And I had to get up and go and train with Faith. That day had to be one of the hardest of my entire life, trying not to look at Faith and just melt at the memory of my dream. I ran out of there so fast after we’d done training, I think she may have thought I couldn’t wait to get away from her, but the exact opposite was true. I couldn’t risk her discovering how much she affected me. God. . .what am I gonna do?

“Fuck. . .the little minx,” Faith grinned, talking to herself in the quiet of the cemetery.

She couldn’t believe Buffy was having dreams as graphic as that about her. She had just never thought of the small Slayer to be the type. As far as she was concerned Buffy was a prude who wouldn’t know a good fuck if it came up and. . .well, came up and fucked her. But Faith’s opinion was definitely changing. There was real potential there if Buffy was willing to let go and just take a chance with her.

There was one more entry in the diary, and Faith saw no reason now not to go ahead and read it, even though she wanted to jump up and run after Buffy. She looked at the date of the entry and shrugged, it wouldn’t hurt to find out what Buffy’s first impressions of her were.

Faith. . .where do I start? Well, I may as well start by explaining why I have taken to writing in this damn thing. It’s the fault of non other than my new little ‘best friend’ Faith. I really didn’t know what to make of her after that first meeting. She was certainly. . .different. Kinda mysterious. Of course, it wasn’t long before a few truths came out about her, but we sorted them out, and I was proud of her. I had no idea why I would be proud of somebody I didn’t really know, but I was.

I didn’t know how to take Faith at first, I mean, as far as her openness and obvious flirting went. That was pretty much two weeks ago now though, and I think I’m just about beginning to get her. Her flirting still unnerves me a little, though. Unfortunately for me, it’s not for the reasons it should be. It doesn’t creep me out. . .in fact, I like it. She’s. . .she’s so attractive and I can’t take my eyes off her sometimes. I’m thinking about her a lot. It’s confusing. Which is why I’m writing in here, to try to make some sense out of how she’s starting to make me feel, because I daren’t tell Will or Xander. I don’t want them knowing I keep thinking about Faith naked. God, I can’t believe I’m thinking this way. She’s something else though, that’s for sure.

I’ll just be walking along not thinking of anything, then up pops Faith into my head, all hot and barely dressed and I become a gibbering wreck. It’s even worse when she’s actually there, in the flesh with me somewhere, which is why I’m kinda avoiding spending too much time with her. I don’t want to have her hotness right there in my face. Ok, I’m not gonna even go there with that thought. Faith, all hot and in my face? Yeah, stopping now. I need to quit thinking this way. I’m straight. And Faith is. . .she’s. . .she’s a tough girl from a completely different background to me, she has no manners, she’s rude and obnoxious and crude, and not even that good looking. With all that cheap leather. . .she’s so not all that!!! Crap, who am I kidding? She’s absolutely gorgeous, and funny, and can be really adorable sometimes when she doesn’t think anybody’s looking.

Oh God, I’m really in trouble.

Faith sat back on the tomb she was perched on, taking a deep breath to steady herself. It was all there in black and white. Buffy wanted her just as much, if not more than Faith wanted Buffy. There was no escaping it, for either of them.

The sultry brunette was certainly not just going to let this drop. She knew from the way Buffy had described how much she had been avoiding her, to avoid thinking about her desire, that she would never make the first move. Or any move for that matter. Like in the dream, it was going to have to be Faith who took charge. She would confront Buffy, then they could deal with what was between them.

She couldn’t allow things to be buried to the point that nothing would ever happen. Faith would never forgive herself for not trying if she just walked away at the prospect of facing an irate little Slayer, who wanted to do nothing more than fantasies without acting on what she desired.

Faith stood up, and grasping hold of the revealing book, she took a deep breath, fixed her predatory grin in place, and strode off towards Buffy’s house.