Shopping Takes Its Toll

Summary: A little cheesy one shot, showing the lighter side of the slayers.
Timeline: Around season 5.
Rating: NC17
Pairing: F/B
Disclaimer: These characters do not belong to me, unfortunately. They are the property of Joss Whedon, Mutant Enemy and whoever else owns them. I make no profit from this.

Faith dumped the last lot of shopping bags on the floor next to the pile that had accumulated. She sighed, wishing she could complain about how much her arms hurt from carrying them. They didn’t hurt of course, she was a slayer. She sure as shit was going to complain about the hours of her life she’d just wasted in the grocery store, however.

“B,” Faith called, to no answer. “Damnit, I fucking hate shopping. Why did I say I’d go?” she muttered to herself. “I coulda been out looking for vamp nests or demon lairs, or I coulda been researching on the new bad guy we’ve got, or. . .”

“You coulda spent hours sat in front of the TV playing your x-box, as per usual when I don’t give you something to do,” Buffy quipped as she flounced into the living room, carrying something slightly box shaped yet drippy.

“Hey, I do more than. . .” Faith cut herself off as she looked at the slimy object in Buffy’s hand. “Um, B, what the hell is that?” She pointed and raised her eyebrow.

“Faith, my ever vigilant and observant friend, this is. . .or was the cake we bought for Willow’s birthday,” Buffy replied with a little smirk. “And it’s like this why? Because you, my ever clumsy and ham-fisted slayer buddy, let it fall out of the bag and into the bottom of the trunk, where you crammed in the rest of the stuff.”

“Oh,” Faith murmured.

“Exactly, Faith,” Buffy huffed, evidently pissed off.

She walked through the living room, the smooshed cake dripping all over the floor as she went.

“I’m sorry?” Faith offered half-heartedly.

She hadn’t meant to squish it, but there had just been so much stuff. So much stuff that she didn’t even like. Sure, she liked cake, but that one was for Willow, and Faith and Willow. . .were not known for their buddieness.

“Just help me put these things away, Faith, before anything else is ruined,” Buffy yelled from the kitchen.

She’d slotted so well into the ‘mom’ role since her mother passed on. That was good for Dawn and maybe the others, but Faith hadn’t been back that long. She wasn’t even sure what she was doing back. She hadn’t exactly left on good terms.

She probably had Glory to thank for it, seeing as she was the reason Faith was drafted in, to get rid of the blonde baddy.

Buffy hadn’t kicked up the amount of fuss Faith would have expected her to. She had her gripes. She excluded and grumbled vocally. She treated Faith with contempt, but when Faith had risked her own life for the sake of Dawn. . .Buffy cut her some slack.

Not a lot of slack at first, but just enough so that Faith didn’t feel like she was choking anymore.

She was grateful, and it only went to prove just how wrong she had gotten Buffy in the past. Faith had believed she was stuck up her own ass. So far in love with a vampire she would risk all for him. So full of herself she thought she was unquestionably always right. Always better.

Faith questioned that now. She questioned everything, just not direct to Buffy.

“B, I’m sorry about the cake, I’ll go out and get another,” Faith offered, feeling genuinely sorry this time.

“Damn right you will, Faith. And you’re gonna pay for it, this thing cost a fortune. I had it made specially. It had little wands on, and frogs, yunno, to go with the whole witch thing. . .”

Faith had stopped listening at the mention of paying. She had no money. She didn’t even have lint in her pockets.

“Just one thing, B. . .”

“You’ll have to go to the big grocer further out, it’s late now and the others will be shut,” Buffy continued, ignoring Faith. “No wait, you’re not going alone, you’ll come back with something weird.”

“Weird?” Faith said, scratching her head as Buffy buzzed around her, putting away perishables as she talked at the younger slayer.

“That grocer will have more choice, but I doubt they’ll have a witch one. We’ll have to try our best. Maybe make some little witches with pointy hats and put them on. I’m pretty sure mom taught me how to use one of those squeezy things.”

“Squeezy things?” Faith was baffled now as she listened to Buffy. She just wanted to get the shopping thing done with so she could play her x-box. . .no, research vamps, rather. Of course. . .vamp research, Faith nodded to herself in conclusion.

“Are you ready, clutz? We have to be back before everybody comes home,” Buffy pointed out, reaching past Faith for the car keys.

Faith just watched the little blonde slayer, a smile creeping across her dark red lips. Buffy was being cute despite herself.

“Sure, I’m ready,” Faith replied, meaning so much more than was evident.

Pretty much the entire way there, and the entire way back, Buffy yapped. If she wasn’t going on about cake, she was going on about work. About wanting to go back to college. About some guy who’d asked her out on a date. About how she wouldn’t go, ‘cause she had more important things to think about.

Faith listened as much as she could. Taking in as much as she could. The babble was past Willow proportions, however, so bursting into laughter was immanent.

“Jesus, Buffy. . .have you stopped to listen to yourself lately? You’re like Willow on crack?” Faith snickered.

“I’m what?!” Buffy stopped dead still in the center of the living room.

Faith, cake in hands, walked straight into the back of her. The cake, once proud and lovely, was now a nice pink and blue mess all over Faith’s chest.

Neither girl moved, the sound of dripping cake filling the now tension packed atmosphere.

“Tell me you didn’t just do what I think you did,” Buffy asked.

“Um, no?” offered Faith, looking down between them at the mess, cursing the shop for not having a big enough box for the cake.

“Can we save it? If we move really slowly to the kitchen. . .can we salvage it?” Buffy enquired with a hopeful quiver to her voice.

Faith didn’t have the heart to say no. She didn’t want to be the cause of Buffy-tears. “Sure, if we move wicked slow, and stay close.”

“Ok, we can do this, just. . .don’t let the important bits fall to the floor,” Buffy instructed.

Faith pondered on which bits of the cake, in all its mashed up mess, were the most important. The little icing stars were probably deemed important in Buffy-land, she guessed, so she promptly scooped the one she could see out of the sticky ook and plopped it in her mouth. It was the safest place for it.

“Lets move.” Buffy said, shuffling forwards an inch.

“Ok,” mumbled Faith around a sickly sweet lump of star.

They crept, very gradually, towards the kitchen. Every small step caused a chunk of cake to plummet to its demise, but Faith reassured Buffy that all was ok.

“Almost there, B, keep focused,” Faith cheered, minus an outfit and pompoms.

There was much less cake now, and their bodies were pressed close as they shuffled along. Faith grinned, quite liking the fact she was able to get so close to Buffy. It wasn’t like she’d had much of a chance at that lately. Or ever.

She was well aware that it was the calm before the storm, because as soon as Buffy realised there was a nice big yucky trail of cake in their wake. . .she was gonna be pissed.

“Now, turn, slowly. . .so we can move it onto the table,” Buffy said, one hand reaching behind her to rest on Faith’s thigh, steering her in the direction she wanted. “You’re very close, Faith, are you sure the cake isn’t too bad? I don’t wanna look.”

“Sure. It’s. . .fine,” Faith lied, enjoying the touch of Buffy’s hand on her leg.

They shuffled, they bent, they manoeuvred, and they plonked the dying remnants of the birthday cake onto the table-top. Faith looked down at the forlorn looking remaining star, and the handful of crumbled cake. She grimaced and awaited a torrent of expletives.

“Well. . .at least we have a star, that’s a start right? We can. . .we can. . .” Buffy bust out laughing at the sorry mess.

Faith looked from the table, to Buffy. She waited for the laughing to stop and the shouting to start. Buffy continued laughing hysterically.

Faith chuckled, testing the water. “I didn’t have the heart to tell you,” she explained through her laughter.

“We walked all that way. . .going slower than a geriatric turtle,” Buffy guffawed. “Leaving a perfectly straight line of cake parts. You big oaf, you should have said.”

There was no malice to her words through the tears of laughter.

“I didn’t know how you’d react,” Faith admitted, looking a little sheepish now.

“So. . .you decided to eat some of it instead?” Buffy bent over double as she pointed up at Faith.

“Huh?” Faith exclaimed, wondering how Buffy could have guessed. She followed the pointing finger, straight to her own cheek, where she found a dollop of cake cream. “Ahh,” she said, very much sheepish now.

“You’re such a dork, Faith,” Buffy said through each giggle and chuckle, holding her sides as she attempted to calm herself.

“Hey, I’m no dork. You’re the one who was having a coronary over a cake, when you know Willow can’t even eat any,” Faith pointed out, taking offence at being called a dork.

“I wasn’t having a coronary, I was dealing with the situation in a. . .wait, what do you mean Willow can’t eat any?” Buffy stopped laughing and looked up at Faith, her eyes wide in wonder.

“She has that allergy, to eggs or some shit like that. Jeeze, if I know that, surely you should too,” Faith smirked, feeling proud of herself for knowing something Buffy didn’t.

“I knew,” Buffy waved off.

“So you what. . .just chose to ignore the fact? Dork,” Faith chuckled at the puzzled blonde.

“Hey!” Buffy glared at Faith, her little girl voice making an appearance despite the mock anger.

“What, you can call me dork for not telling you about the cake taking a liking to my chest, but I can’t call you one for not realising we didn’t even need the cake in the first place?” Faith asked, her eyebrows raised in invitation.

“Stop confusing me, and please. . .do something about the mess on your chest,” Buffy indicated the gloop collecting in Faith’s cleavage.

“Why? Is it ruining your view?” Faith joked.

It caused momentary silence and awkwardness.

Buffy opened her mouth to speak, then closed it. She did it three times, obviously completely stumped.

Faith hadn’t expected quite that reaction. She also didn’t expect the inspection her chest was now receiving from Buffy’s gaze. Deciding to push the envelope, Faith slowly raised her hand to her chest, her fingers dipping into the leftover cake and scooping it out of her cleavage, and away from her very low cut top.

She made quite a show of it, puffing up her chest with each removal of gunk. Her hand disappearing inside her tight top to clear it a little more.

Buffy was transfixed, as if some spell had been cast over her. It would have been amusing to Faith had it not been more on the side of a turn on. She could practically read Buffy’s mind, and her thoughts were filthy.

Faith smirked, recalling all the times Buffy had watched her. Had secretly checked her out and wanted her. She knew it. . .but had never thought for a second that Buffy would slip up and reveal herself.

“You can wipe that smirk of your face, Faith, I’m not thinking what you’re thinking I am,” Buffy stated, not sounding too sure of herself.

“Are you sure about that, B?” Faith’s voice lowered to her sexy rumble that never failed to score. “I bet if I offered you a lick, you’d go right ahead,” she grinned even bigger, thrusting her chest out none too subtly for Buffy.

Buffy narrowed her eyes, a little grin of her own emerging. “And I bet if I walked over there and took a nice long lick of your breast, you’d crap in your oh-so-tight pants.”

It stumped Faith, but not for long. She liked these little games with Buffy. She’d missed them.

“Go right ahead, princess. Take a try of the left one if you dare,” Faith said with a wink.

She knew Buffy wouldn’t back down from a challenge. She had too much pride. No strike that. . .she was too stubborn to.

“Fine,” Buffy nodded, “I can do that.”

“Be my guest,” Faith leaned into Buffy as she approached tentatively.

Buffy stopped right in front of Faith, close enough for Faith to smell the shampoo she had used that morning. Close enough to feel the ‘slayer tingle’ between them.

The slightly shorter girl looked up into Faith’s dark eyes, then down at her sticky boobs. She licked her lips and moved even closer, her face heading for Faith’s breasts. There was a pause, and Faith shivered involuntarily as Buffy’s hot breath tickled over her.

Her tongue snuck out. Just the tip. Just grazing Faith’s skin as it slipped over the cake cream. Faith closed her eyes without thinking, unable to believe Buffy had just leaned down and so sexily, so languidly licked her breast. She wondered if Buffy had battered her to death earlier and now she was in heaven.

Buffy wasn’t done, though. She had more in store for Faith as she took another swipe with her tongue, this time on the other breast. This time much slower, but much less cautious. She used her whole tongue, collecting all the cream, and leaving a wet trail behind.

This time they both shuddered a little. Faith felt it from Buffy through the hand that was now resting on her hip.

“You sure like cream, B,” Faith said, her voice husky from arousal.

“I love cream, F, but I have to admit. . .” Buffy said with a grin, “I’ve wanted to lick your fucking gorgeous breasts right from the moment I first saw them all bobbing about on the dance floor.”

Faith almost gasped, but caught herself, not wanting to fall into Buffy’s little trap. It just had to be a trap.

She didn’t stop Buffy pushing her a little backwards to the nearby table, however, her backside hitting it with a bump. There wasn’t much room between them, and their eyes met in the lazy light of the evening.

“I mean it, Faith,” Buffy practically whispered. “I want to push you up onto the table with your pants down, and I want to spread your legs and use my tongue to fuck you until you’re screaming my name.”

Faith almost passed out at the image. She tried to speak, but didn’t know how to respond. If it was a trick, if it was a trap. . .then she was caught.

“You don’t have to say anything, Faith. I’ve been holding this in for years, and right now. . .I’m done holding. Right now, I’d rather have my fingers up inside your hot wet pussy as I suck on your clit,” Buffy wet her lips, looking down at her fingers as they snapped open Faith’s buttons on her pants.

Faith was sure she was dead now. That could be the only explanation, as surely Buffy wasn’t really working her way into her pants in the middle of the kitchen.

“I can’t wait to feel how wet I can get you, Faith,” Buffy purred.

Faith was pretty damn wet already. Just the thought of Buffy anywhere near her pussy got her wet.

“B, I. . .” Faith began, wanting to make sure Buffy knew what she was doing to her sanity.

“Don’t talk, Faith. Let me show you,” Buffy said, one hand now achingly close to slipping under Faith’s panties.

They both held their breaths, their lips close to touching. Close to kissing. Close to feeling. So close, but not close enough as the front door banged shut and Dawn’s voice broke the two slayers apart.

“Buffy, we’re home. Is dinner ready?” Dawn called as she grew closer.

Faith whipped her hands down to her buttons, doing them up clumsily.

Buffy took a deep breath, and kept her eyes fixed on Faith. She leaned back in close, nuzzling against Faith’s ear and whispering, “Later, Faith. We’ll finish this later, I promise.”

She gave Faith’s ear a small kiss, and moved back, just before Dawn scuttled into the kitchen.

“What the hell went on here?” Dawn asked excitedly. “Was it some kinda cake demon you slaughtered. . .all the way from the hall to the kitchen?”

The two slayers looked at each other and laughed.

“Cake demon,” Buffy giggled. “Sure, Dawn, that’s exactly what it was. It wasn’t Faith being a giant dork at all.” She ran just before Faith could grab her.

There would be no getting away, however. Armed with a fist full of cake, Faith ran after Buffy as the blonde girl squealed in her escape.

Dawn rolled her eyes. “Dorks,” she said, tutting then taking a bite out of the tasty looking gold star now no longer adorning the table.

The End



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