Title: It's not what you think it is or is it?

Author: Wingweaver

Disclaimer: The show, the characters belong to the rightful owners. I just borrowed them for a few hours.

Author's Notes: Salacious wriggling. Wriggling salaciously. Wriggling. Lot's of wriggling going on here!

The smack of flash on flash was like thunder in the silent room. For the lost few hours the two bodies caught in the primal ritual only felt the adrenaline and the—oh so good—endorphins, rushing through their bodies like a locomotive.

A loud smack was followed by a grunt.

A hard thrust and then a scream.

A strong hold on the other was accompanied by a groan.

A dull thud of two bodies colliding and gasps were heard.

One body fell and another One followed. The positions changed but the fight for dominance continued, the grunting, screaming, groaning and gasping was frenzied.

The first One that fell rolled on top holding the other down while the One that underneath growled, gasped, screamed and bucked. A miniscule slip of the hold allowed the body underneath to push the other off then grab the hold for dominance with the name of the other leaving their lips.

The primal ritual continued as body parts collided and grunts, screams, groans and gasps were heard. It was a few minutes later that One of them moaned and stopped trashing.

The sound of harsh breathing was like a snake's whisper in the silent room. For the last few seconds the two bodies that had been caught in the primal ritual now felt the aches and burns of their bodies. The adrenaline and the—oh so good—endorphins were slinking off, pulling them down from the high and landing on the ground.

The bodies that were strung and ready earlier are now tired and covered in sweat. Their skin stuck together and bodies clinched in a relaxed hold.

"You know, if I was in another room I would've though you two were fucking each other silly." The Queen, who was for some reason was in the training room with a GQ magazine and Anne Hathaway on the cover, stated.

"I mean, look at that!" Cordelia, The Queen, pointed at the two slayers. "Is fighting like sex for the two of you?"

Faith and Buffy, The Chosen Two, looked at the spaced between then (or the lack of it) and assessed their current position.

Faith with her legged trapped between the blonde's thighs while the other was over Buffy's shoulder and her arms pinned on either side of her head. An unusual hold but an effective hold.

And it did look like they were having sex.

Faith smirked and arched her back, reducing the distance between Buffy's face and Faith's breasts to an inch or less, and then looked at The Queen.

"What does look like, your highness?"

Cordelia stared at the brunette, who was wriggling salaciously, and at the blonde, who seems to have her eyes stuck on the goodies on display.

"You two are incorrigible and in need of a room!" And The Queen left with her GQ magazine and Anne Hathaway on the cover.

Faith chuckled and stopped her salacious wriggling.

"So is fighting like sex for us?" Faith looked at the blonde whose eyes were still on the displayed goodies.

The smack of naked flesh on naked flesh was like a thunderstorm in the silent room. For the last several hours…

The End.