Post Season 7 Fluff. AU from the end of season 6. Just cause I was in the mood.

Faith was asleep, sprawled across the king-sized bed. Over her head, two witches exchanged grins.

Willow slid in beside her, easing an arm underneath her. Faith stirred, muttered, fell back into sleep.

Tara stood looking down at them, a soft smile on her face.

"Baby, where are you going?" Willow asked sleepily.

Tara just grinned, and left the room. Only a strong urge to pee had eventually forced her out of her snug spot, on Faith's right.

Sighing, Willow turned over, slipping her arm out and turning her back on Faith as she groped for her pillow. "Where is that darn thing?" she muttered.

Then she spotted it. Wedged securely under Faith's left calf. Cautiously Willow tugged at the pillow. Neither leg nor pillow shifted so much as an inch. Taking another look at Faith to make sure the slayer was sleeping; she tried again, pulling harder. A slight hitch in Faith's breathing was the only response, leg and pillow remained immobile.

For a moment Willow contemplated giving up. After all, she could live without a pillow. Only the sheer injustice of Faith's calf being comfortably pillowed while her own poor head went without forced her to make a third attempt. This time, however, a strong hand grasped her wrist, just as her mighty tugs had finally coaxed some movement out of the reluctant pillow.

Willow looked up. Faith was not at her best in the mornings, and this time was no exception. The brown eyes that met Willow's green were veiled with sleep, and she scowled semi-seriously.

"What are you doing?" Faith growled in her husky voice that still made Willow shiver with delight.

"My pillow," she said uncertainly, suddenly not so sure that had been her real goal. As Faith closed the distance between them, silencing Willow's feeble protest about pillow theft with a kiss, the witch wondered to herself in her sleepy way if maybe this was what better than pillow theft anyway.

Now, finding herself held tight against the still mostly asleep Faith, her head resting comfortably on the other woman's chest, she was a confused mix of sleepy and aroused.

Tara, returning seconds later had to smile at the scene before her.

It was certainly not traditional, but then a Wiccan lesbian knows all about non-traditional relationships.

So as she slid into bed next to Faith, dropping a kiss on the forehead of her fellow witch as she passed, she only smiled at her lovers, and thought to herself that they, the three of them, were luckier than any of those traditional types.

And when, later, at a more respectable hour for a Slayer to be awake, she felt Faith reach for her, strong hands using all their finesse to lightly graze over every patch of exposed skin, she laughed her gentle laugh, and decided that this day, she was going to give special thanks to Astarte, goddess of love, for the gift of a slayer and a witch. Both hers, as she was theirs.