Even for a person like me.

I keep my eyes closed and wrap my arm a little tighter around her midsection with my head conveniently resting on her chest. See? Even sleeping-Faith is always tryin’ to get naughty. It’s not me . . . it’s my subconscious. I’m completely innocent in all this.

And if a frog had wings, he wouldn’t bump his ass when he hopped.

Either way . . . I’m takin’ advantage of the situation. I bury my face against her chest, mumbling a little as my lips get all pressed up against the material of her shirt. It needs to be gone so I can taste her skin. To say that I miss her taste is a complete understatement.

I’m almost too wrapped up in what I’m doing to hear the giggle that escapes her lips.

Almost.

“Mornin’ sleepyhead.” She says cheerfully, her fingers playing with the back of my hair.

I mumble “good morning” against her chest. I’ll gladly stay where I am until she pushes me away, thank you.

She giggles even more.

“What exactly are you trying to accomplish there by talking to my breasts, Faith? I’m fairly certain they can’t talk back.”

I lift up my head from her chest and try to give her the most righteous look that I can manage without crackin a smile.

“Aww, who’s the pervy one now, B? I was talkin to your heart.” I say, feigning innocence as I try to smooth my hair down. Bed-head is a killer when you’re tryin to act serious.

She smiles softly. “You talk to my heart every day, baby,” she says, then brushes her fingers through my hair to help straighten it out.

I grin and bury my face back against her chest, moving it around a little and mumbling a bit before finally resting my cheek down and snuggling up to her.

“You win, B. I admit it. I was talking to your ta-ta’s. But only cos I woke up with them luring me and callin out to me. ‘Helloooo, Faith. Give us a kiss, Faith. Lick us, Faith. Make motorboat noises between us, Faith’. I swear, they were taunting me.”

A bit of humor can’t hurt in our situation. A bit of fun couldn’t hurt either.

“Motorboat noises?” She asks. Cue her cute confused look.

And cue the fun.

Before she knows what I’m doing, I have my head under her shirt and I’m makin little motorboat noises between her boobs, vibrating my lips so it tickles her really good. She starts laughin like crazy, wriggling and tryin to push my head away.

I LOVE this. This moment. Every moment like this. This is what makes all of the bad shit we went through worth it.

We’re both laughin so hard at this point that neither of us hear the door open up.

“Ahem.”

I freeze under Buffy’s shirt and keep completely still and quiet. I really don’t know why . . . it’s not like someone isn’t gonna notice the huge Faith-sized lump under the blanket and the Faith-shaped head under her shirt. But still . . . I’m not budgin’ an inch. If I’m wicked lucky, it’s just a huge, man-eating Tyrannosaurus Rex that walked in and he won’t see us if we don’t move.

Jurassic Park-style.

Hey, I can hope.

“Good morning, girls.”

Ah, shit. Joyce. I’m pretty sure that she wasn’t included on the list of lucky people that secretly knew about me and B. Or, well . . . I guess she could be. If I didn’t know that rest of the gang knew, there’s pretty much a whole mess of other people that could be keyed into the sitch.

“Morning, Mom.” Buffy says casually, wrapping her arms around me and pulling me tighter against her.

Hey! Goddammit! Doesn’t she know I’m tryin to be a lump here?

“Good morning, Buffy. Mysterious lump under my daughter’s shirt. Nice to see you’re back.” Mrs. S. says randomly into the room. See? At least she knows to at least pretend to go along with it when I’m pretendin to be a lump.

Anyhow . . . I guess my hiding spot is not so secret anymore. Slowly, I slip my head out from under Buffy’s shirt, quickly pulling it back down so that I don’t expose her to the room.

I try to sit up, but Buffy still has a tight grip on me. My face is pressed to her chest again, making my position a little bit more than awkward.

“Umm . . . I . . . we were . . . yunno . . . I was just checking her wounds.” I stammer out.

What? So fucking sue me. Yeah I’m nervous. I still don’t know if she knows about us. B doesn’t seem to care, cos her hand just went under the back of my shirt and is gently caressing my skin in plain view of her mom.

“Alternative therapy, huh.” She says, and I just furrow my eyebrows in confusion. She smiles. “Motorboat therapy? You’re really pulling out all of the stops to assure that Buffy gets better, aren’t you?”

It’s not really a question. It’s a statement. She’s got this little smile on her face that only a knowing parent can wear.

“Uhh, yeah. That.” I answer back, trying to discreetly nudge B’s hand away from under my shirt. I’m not exactly sure that I want her Ma to see us with her hands all over me. It’s defo a new feeling for me.

Trust me . . . I’ve never been a very modest person. Besides . . . I’m still waitin for her to freak out on me here, for ‘violating’ her baby girl or giving her ‘the gay’ or some shit.

Mrs. S just gives us a small smile before winking at Buffy and turning to leave the room.

“I’ll leave you girls to it . . . Faith, I trust that you’ll stay with my little girl and keep her safe now?” She says, peeking over her shoulder and looking into my eyes.

I lay my head back on B and wrap an arm protectively over her midsection, nodding just a little. I hope that my gesture is enough to assure her, cos I’m pretty much having a big loss for words at the moment. She’s not asking me to keep her safe now; she’s asking me to keep her safe always. As in . . . she’s not gonna freak out, and she’s not gonna stop me and B from seeing each other.

Forget being nervous, I’m fuckin ecstatic.

But I don’t show it. Neither of us do. We just lay there silent in the exact same position, listening to the sounds of her mother washing the dishes, putting groceries away, and finally showing herself out and lockin up.

We both breathe out a sigh of relief.

“Man, I so thought I was gonna get an ass-full of Joyce boot there.” I say with a chuckle, relaxing in Buffy’s arms.

“Nah.” She begins. “Mom would never wear boots. It’s her motherly-yet-fashionable loafers that I’d worry about if I was you.”

We both chuckle.

“Thanks for the warning, B. I’ll make sure to watch my ass around her next time,” I joke, and I can’t help but tense up as I feel her hand slide down my back and start to grope my backside.

“Or, you could just let me watch it for you.”

Her hand continues to grope me as her other one slides under my chin and tilts my face up so that she can kiss my lips. I try not to respond . . . I know we’re not ready to dive right back into this. Time heals all wounds and all that whatever-whatever, but I generally think it takes more than nine hours to make things right again.

Like I said though, I’m no expert on this stuff. I’m a virgin when it comes to doing right in relationships.

Haha, yeah. A virgin. My mother would be proud.

But . . . oh god, her kisses. Soft and sweet, then soft and deeper as she slips her tongue into my mouth and slides it over and around mine.

Heaven. It feels like heaven. It’s not like our last kiss . . . the kiss I gave her before I left. This is a kiss of forgiveness. Of new beginnings. But . . . how can we have a new beginning if we’re jumpin into this headlong like we did the first time around?

I mean . . . don’t get me wrong. I hate waiting, and if I had virtues, patience would definitely not be one of them. But I’ve never wanted anything or anyone as much as I want B. And as scary as that notion is to me, I know that I wanna do it right this time. If that requires a bit of patience and self-restraint, then, hell yeah I can do it.

Reluctantly, I break the kiss and rest my forehead against hers, reaching behind my back and movin her arm so that it’s wrapped around my waist. She looks a little confused, and I know I should probably explain myself to her so she doesn’t take this as some kinda twisted form of rejection.

“We can’t do that right now, B.”

“Why not?” She asks, that cute little confused look still on her face.

I wanna kiss her so much. In fact, I do. Just one soft kiss on her lips before pulling back and lookin into her eyes.

“Cos . . . we’re not there yet.”

She rests her head back on the pillow and looks away to hide the tears forming in her eyes, and I feel like such a shit.

“The last couple months have been seriously messed up, B. As much as I hate to say it, a kiss and some make-up sex -- though satisfying and hot as fuck, I’m sure – isn’t gonna fix the shit that’s been bringing us down.”

“I’m sorry.” She whispers, and I can hear her voice tremble. Her arm starts to slide down from around my waist, but I grab it and lace my fingers through hers, pulling it back over me and holding it there.

“Hey, no sorrys, Buffy. It doesn’t mean that I’m givin up, and it doesn’t mean that I want you any less. In fact, I want you so fucking much that it hurts,” I explain calmly, trying to get her to look at me. “I love you so much that it hurts. Do you have any idea what a big deal it is for a person like me to even be able to say something like that? That I love you so much it hurts?”

She finally looks back at me and whispers, “I love you too, Faith.”

I smile.

She smiles.

“Then this is worth doing right, baby. We need to start fresh. I wanna . . . come pick you up at your house, and take you on dates or somethin’ like that, and be able to hold you like I used to. I wanna hang out with your friends and show them that you’re the most important person in the world to me, and that I’m not gonna screw it up. And . . . when we’re ready for more, we’ll be able to knowin’ that we already have something solid to stand on. Does that . . . I mean, am I making any sense here?”

She’s silent for a few moments, and I’m startin to feel a little bit like an ass. Am I just being emotional and needy here? Shit . . . when did I turn into such a sap?

It’s the pink satin sheets she made me put on my bed. Dammit, I fuckin knew that shit was laced with hormones and crap. Next time? Basic black.

“So . . . what you’re saying is that you want to date me, and do things like normal couples do?”

I nod, feeling a bit more than self-conscious now.

Stupid pink sheets.

A huge grin appears on Buffy’s face as she rolls me over and starts to tickle my sides.

“Why, Miss ‘Faith the Vampire Slayer’, I do believe that you’ve turned into a big softy, I do.” She taunts as she tickles me, unrelenting as I beg her to stop.

“Ahh, stop, B!” I manage to say between laughs. “It’s your fault, anyway. Tryin to make me all girly with the pink sheets and the lip gloss and the . . . oh god, you gotta stop that! . . . fluffy slippers. You’re tryin’ to make me your bitch!”

She grins real big and gives me enough room to struggle up a little. Just as I roll to my stomach so she can’t tickle it anymore, I feel her smack my ass playfully.

“You are my bitch.” She says with a huge smile, then lays down on my back and snuggles against me.

I decide that I’m gonna let her get away with that little comment for now, cos it feels so nice with her snuggled all up against me. I lace my fingers through hers and pull her hands under my stomach, keeping them all warm as we both calm down and rest again.

After a few minutes of hearing B’s deep breaths, I close my eyes and sleep again. And . . . in this very moment . . . I know that we’re gonna be okay. We are okay. We’ll get it right this time, cos I can just feel that we both want it so much.

_______________

Three Weeks Later
_______________

“Why do you insist on making me watch such horrid TV shows?” Buffy asks me, annoyed, and I just nudge her and give her a little ‘shush’.

We’re layin on my bed, watching TV and just staying all cuddled up. Things have been going, well . . . great. We decided that it was the perfect night to skip patrol and just veg out with some Fear Factor and take-out Chinese food.

We just finished eating awhile ago, and now she’s complaining that watching people eat bugs is makin her stomach hurt.

As if a Slayer hasn’t seen stuff grosser than that.

Actually . . . that last bug was pretty thick and juicy. Maybe I am being a bit mean making her watch it. Then again, she did make me sit through two episodes of 7th Heaven and The Gilmore Girls earlier….

Right. Fear Factor is staying on. I just start to rub her stomach as some small consolation.

“Honestly. Is it some kind of punishment?” She asks, lifting her head up and trying to look back at me.

I keep my eyes focused on the TV and gently use my hand to guide her head back down to the pillow. She just scoffs.

Just when I think she may give up, she starts yapping again.

“I’d never invite you over to my house and then make you watch . . . figure skating. You’d leave. But nooooo, not Buffy.” She continues on. “I’m a good girlfriend. I try to be accommodating, and caring, and considerate, and . . .”

She keeps going on, and I just KNOW I’m about to miss a good gag noise from the TV as the next dude scarfs down a juicy tomato worm. I gently move my hand from under her shirt where I was rubbing her stomach and I cover her mouth with it.

Ha. Yeah, I can almost feel the pout forming on her lips.

“Fai.” She mumbles, and I try to hold back the chuckle that’s dyin’ to escape from my throat. “Fai.” She mumbles again, and I bite my bottom lip.

“Fai?” She asks, and then I really feel the pout.

No, wait . . . that’s not a pout. That’s tongue.

“Oh, gross, B!” I say, ripping my hand away and rubbing it on her hip. “Do you know where that hand has been?”

She laughs and grabs the remote, changing the channel just as the dude started to gag.

God dammit.

“Knowing my little piggy, probably all kinds of naughty places.”

Well . . . she’s right. It has been in some pretty funky places. But I’m a decently clean person. She should be okay. Basically.

Still, doesn’t make up for the fact that she changed the channel.

I sit up a bit and immediately begin to tickle her stomach and sides so that I can get the remote back. My right arm slides under her, making it possible for me to tickle both of her sides at once. It’s the perfect tickle position, I’ll tell ya.

See, Buffy’s even more ticklish than I am. I figure that after five seconds of this, she’ll hand the remote over and give me a little break. But little miss Buffy isn’t playin along. Two seconds into tickling her, she tosses the remote across the room and grabs onto my hands, tryin to stop them from tickling her.

“Faith, stop….” she pauses to giggle, “ . . . I just ate . . . gonna puke . . .”

Yeah right. Every time I get into a tickling match with Buffy, it’s always, ‘Stop, I’m gonna puke!’ or ‘Stop, I’m gonna pee!’ I’m not gonna fall for it this time. I keep tickling her, unrelenting.

“Faaiiiiiii…….I’m gonna fall off the bed!” She giggles as she squirms around like mad, still tryin to stop my hands from tickling her. But I’m not giving up. Not ‘til she admits defeat and goes to get that remote.

“It’s not over yet, B……who’s the bitch now, huh?” I say with a grin, easily tickling her through her attempts to stop me.

In a last ditch effort, she makes a move to at least stop both of our hands from moving. She uses her slayer-strength to trap my right hand against her, then curls up into a little ball and tucks the other between her legs.

We both freeze.

Uh-oh.

See, B and I haven’t exactly done the ‘sex’ thing over these past few weeks. I mean . . . I really fuckin want to, and I know she does too. And we’ve done the kissing and the touching and . . . well, everything but the straight-out fucking. We’ve just been taking time, I guess, to let things progress on their own.

But here we are now, breathing deep against one another, my left hand laced through hers and snuggled pretty intimately between her legs. My breath is literally caught in my throat.

I miss this. I miss her. Miss feeling her. Miss touching her. Miss feeling her surrender in my embrace.

Shit, look at that . . . I’m turnin into some kinda poet right now. God, I’m such a sap for this chick.

The seconds tick by and we’re still sat here completely frozen. I’m almost too afraid to move, but . . . we’re never going to completely move forward until we can learn to live again. To love again. To surrender to each other.

Before I can over-think it, I throw caution to the wind and press my palm right against her mound, relishing the soft sigh that escapes her lips.

I relax a little, knowing that she isn’t going to flip me off the bed or elbow me in the gut. Not that I really thought she would, but . . . yunno. I’ve played this scenario out in my mind a thousand times already. Sometimes, we end up naked and grinding on the floor. Sometimes, she tells me ‘no’ but lets me hold her anyway. And other times, well . . . I end up with a black-eye and a gut full of Buffy-elbow.

The last scenario was always the least pleasant, I’m sure ya can tell. It’s kept me from making a move on most of the nights we’ve spent cuddled up like this.

But . . . fuck it, man. I’m Faith. I don’t take shit, and I’ve got balls the size of church bells. Just less with the actual balls. Cos . . . yeah . . . SO over that little phase.

Content with the fact that I’m not gettin’ thrown outta bed, I press my palm against her again. Yunno . . . to let her know that it wasn’t some kinda accident. I’m only mildly surprised when I feel her hand tighten around mine, keeping it firmly planted against her. Even though Buffy can’t see it, I know she can tell that I’m grinning now. Just like I can tell that she’s smiling too.

I lean forward just a tiny bit more, nudging her shirt to the side with my nose just an inch so that I can kiss the skin between her neck and shoulder. Fact is, I’d really like to just tear that shirt right the hell off her and have her here and now, but . . . restraint seems like the right choice at the moment.

Cos, yunno. One wrong move and, ‘Hello gut, meet Buffy’s elbow.’

Ever-so-discreetly, I start up a little rhythm with my palm, pressing it teasingly light and then a bit harder over her panties. This is one of the many things about B that I really love: the girl hates pants. Anytime we’re layin in bed watching TV, she wears one of my over-sized tees and just her panties. Not only does she look cute as fuck, but it makes for some really easy access too.

No complaints comin from me on that one!

I can already feel that she’s gettin’ wet through her panties. Fuck, I can tell that I am too. It’s been far too long. And I’m far too anxious right now, cos my fingers are suddenly trying to slip under the edge of her panties and I never even realized I was tryin to do that.

“Faith, wait.” B whispers, but I still can’t control that damn hand of mine. Apparently, I have evil hand issues. I can use it to throw a stake at 100 meters and dust a vamp, but I can’t keep it from brushing over my girlfriend’s clit.

Which it just did. Heh.

Buffy shutters at the contact, but then I feel her trying to still my hand.

“Baby, please . . . just . . . wait a sec.”

Umm, why?

I want this. I know she does too. My fingertip is covered in her juices from just brushing lightly over her. So . . . what the fuck?

I mean . . . come on! We’ve waited multiple weeks! We’re doing hella good. Why exactly do we have to stop if we both want this and it feels so right, I . . .

“Baby, calm down.” Buffy says, laughing a little as I feel her moving around in my arms. “I don’t mean stop, I mean give me a second to move around. Yeesh.”

Heh. She musta sensed that I was gettin’ a bit anxious and stressed out there. What can I say? No pussy and no touching makes Faith go crazy. Especially after I’ve had a little taste of it.

B takes a second or two to turn around in my arms, pressing nice and close to me before grinning and guiding my hand back between her legs. My grin matches hers just the same as I slide my hand under the top of her panties, keeping my eyes locked on hers as I slide my fingertips over her pussy, getting them covered in her juices.

Her eyes flicker closed and her lips part as a soft sigh escapes them, and . . . god DAMN, that’s sexy. I smile and watch her in wonderment as my fingertips continue to caress over her hairless pussy, finally starting to rub soft circles right over her clit. Her thighs involuntarily try to clench, but that only serves to trap my hand even closer to her.

I lean in and nudge my nose softly against hers, then proceed to give her the sweetest, softest kiss that I’ve ever managed in my whole life. Filled with love, and adoration, and silent promises of a million more just like it to come. I think I’ve managed to pour everything I feel and have ever felt for her into this one single kiss.

And Buffy notices.

Her eyes slowly open as we kiss soft and slow, meeting mine and gazing deeply into them as she breathes hard into me.

“Faith,” she says, barely a whisper. But I can feel it coursing throughout my whole body, pulling and spinning and calling to me.

“Buffy,” I whisper back, not because I don’t have anything else to say, but because it’s all I can say. All I can feel. All I can breathe.

Shit, I’ve never been this kinda person before. I’ve never been one to feel, and adore, and be held in absolute awe of one person. But she has me. Buffy has me completely.

Keeping eye contact, I slip my fingertips from Buffy’s hard little clit and down her slit until I reach her dripping hole. I circle around it, teasing her just a little until I hear a slight whimper escape her lips. We kiss softly once more before I rest my forehead against hers and close my eyes, slowly sliding two of my fingers inside of her.

God, I’ve missed this so much. Being inside of her, feeling her so tight and warm around my fingers, pulling me deeper in with every movement.

I move them slow inside of her at first, giving her time to adjust and get comfortable, but I can already feel her walls clenching around my fingers. She’s so wet, and her breath is coming in short gasps, and I know that my girl is already about to come.

We kiss deeper as I move my fingers in and out of her a little quicker, a little harder. I know she only needs a little bit more to push her over the edge, so I brush my thumb over her clit and start to rub alongside it, smiling as she rests her forehead against mine and comes moaning my name.

AND WE’RE BACK, FOLKS!

I’d even do a happy-dance if I was a tad bit more vertical.

I steady my hand, keeping my fingers inside of her as she moves against them to ride out her orgasm. She’s clinging so tight to me; it just feels so good to be back like this again. Just knowing that she doesn’t have to run home and lie to her friends about us when we’re all said and done here makes it all that much more satisfying.

And I know that I should give her a few minutes to recoup here, but I can’t help myself. I’m wet and horny as hell, and she’s all weak and kitteny . . . yunno that I’ve gotta take advantage of the moment.

She whimpers when I withdraw my fingers from her, but she’s reassured as soon as she looks into my eyes and sees the lust and love I have for her. And you KNOW that she’s putting on that sexy little grin as soon as she sees that I’m pulling off my shirt and unbuttoning my pants.

Buffy moves to help me, but I take both of her hands in mine and move them over her head, rolling her more fully onto her back as I kiss her nice and deep. We smile against one another’s lips, and I don’t even try to grab her hand back when I feel it break free to help get my pants off.

That’s right. My baby knows what I’m doing.

It doesn’t take long before Buffy’s panties are off and thrown across the room, and I can’t help but chuckle at where we’re gonna find them in the morning.

The windowsill, in the plant, stuck in the mini-blinds, on the TV, in my boot . . . it’s always a fun experience.

But that fun is reserved for tomorrow. Right now, I have better things to focus on.

Like Buffy’s pussy, spread wide for me as she pulls me up on her and wraps her legs tight around my back. It doesn’t take long for my mouth to find hers, kissing her deep as I sneak a hand between us to spread our pussy lips apart.

I’d like to take a moment to savor the feeling, but before I can even run my fingertips over her clit, Buffy is pulling me tight against her with legs.

That’s my girl . . . getting right to the point and not beating around the bush.

Of course, there is no bush where I’m concerned. I like to stay soft and smooth for my girl, as it should be.

Wasting no time, I start to move against Buffy, our clits bumping together at just the right angle. It’s a good thing that we’re both Slayers, cos I’m not too sure that your average Joe or Jane could carry this out without spraining their back or risking permanent injury.

Buffy moans into my mouth as I start to move a bit quicker, breathing hard as I feel a warmth start to spread throughout my body. She’s still so wet from coming just a few minutes ago, so I’m sliding against her nice and easy, feeling our juices mingling together and coating us both.

Don’t cringe, it’s fucking sexy as hell.

Only a few more minutes go by and I feel Buffy start to shake beneath me. I grind against her a little harder, kissing her deep and trying to make her feel as good as possible. She comes with a shutter and several hard deep breaths, and I’m suddenly wondering why the hell I didn’t come with her.

Maybe . . . I’m scared? I don’t want this moment to end. Everything is so perfect right now . . . this moment, in this room . . . I don’t wanna let go.

I clench my eyes and grit my teeth, trying so hard to hold back all that I’m feeling. Only a moment passes before I feel a soft hand on my cheek, causing my eyes to open quickly.

Buffy is staring up at me, her thumb stroking over my cheek, tryin without words to tell me that it’s okay. That I can let go. That when it’s over . . . she’s gonna be there. For me. With me.

There’s no way that I can hold back now.

And I surrender to Buffy. I did the first time that I looked into her eyes. I felt it then, our connection; and it’s only ever gotten stronger. I’ve changed who I am, but I couldn’t help it.

It’s like trying to stop a bulldozer. All you end up with is a squishy mess and dirty tires.

Or maybe I wasn’t supposed to be that cold and turned off person before. God or whoever knows I’ve felt wrong my whole life. Maybe this is who I’m supposed to be . . . meant to be . . . and all I needed was the right person to show me.

I move against Buffy for just a moment more, coming hard as she strokes her thumb over my bottom lip. My body shudders and I collapse in her arms. I know that I’m throwing myself into her arms in more than one way here, but this time I know that I don’t have anything to be afraid of. We’re not gonna hurt each other anymore.

Cos, well . . . it hurts too much to be apart. And we both know that now.

And I think I’m safe to say that neither of us ever wanna feel that again. Cos it sucks major ass. Yep, it does.

As we lay together, catching our breath, I still feel the warmth growing inside of me. I know I have a huge goofy smile on my face, but I can’t help it. Can you blame me? I’m a sucker for happy endings. And I think we’re gonna have one here.

I brush my lips softly over Buffy’s heart before resting my head on her chest, sighing all happy as I feel her fingertips stroking up and down my back. I have no intention of gettin’ outta this position all night long.

Mostly, cos . . . yunno . . . we’re kinda stuck together in a key area.

But I know that there’s no place that I’d rather be. It’s something relatively new for me, but I’ve never felt so right in my entire life.

It’s a big risk, giving yourself to someone like this. You can lose your heart, your hope . . . you could even lose your very soul. But it’s worth it. If ya don’t at least try . . . then you could let something perfect for you pass right on by.

I was wrong when I said that Buffy was the sun. I mean, yeah . . . she’s wicked hot and stuff. But she’s so much more than that.

She’s my sun, my moon . . . my everything. It doesn’t scare me anymore.

And I wouldn’t have it any other way.