So I'll love whatever you become

and forget the reckless things we've done

I think our lives have just begun

Muse – "Falling Away with You"

Faith's POV

"I can't believe we're actually doing this."

I wrap my arm around my girl's thin shoulders and give her a gentle squeeze and kiss the top of her head. "Believe it baby," I smile. "Freedom."

"And a thirty-year mortgage," she adds. I feel her lips press against my cheek. "It's no secluded cabin," she murmurs close to my ear, "but I guess it'll have to do."

Fuck. Whenever my girl talks all sassy and sexy and low like that, hell if my blood doesn't bubble inside my veins.

The castle in Scotland was certainly big enough for all of us, but we ended up in Cleveland what with me being the only Slayer and the most active Hellmouth being in the Mistake by the Lake. And with Giles being the head of the revamped Watcher's Council, I managed to squeeze a nice little advance outta the guy to put towards a down payment on a sweet little bungalow in the Heights. Just big enough for B and I to keep from killing each other, but too small for our unique extended family to take extended vacations.

The rest of the original Scooby gang is basically scattered around the world right now, which kinda bummed my girl out in the beginning. But something tells me it won't take long before they're missing this life and come back to the Cleveland Hellmouth. Willow and Ken set up shop in San Francisco, and Xander's been doing the vagabond thing as of late. I tease him whenever I get the chance that he's gonna end up settling down with Dracula. I can't help myself; the poor guy has always been too easyto poke fun of.

Dawn decided to stay across the pond to study up to be a Watcher type – kind of a mini-Giles. And because I'm officially older than everyone, courtesy of my century and a half in Hell, I was able to wiggle out of having some Watcher-type thrown my way—all with the promise though, that if things get too hairy, I give jolly 'ol England a ring on the telly.

"I'm just pumped that I won't have to listen to other people besides you peeing." I wiggle my eyebrows at her for effect, "aaand we can have sex wherever we want. I've already got a checklist made of all the rooms in our new joint."

Buffy swats my shoulder and I stagger on the concrete sidewalk, pretending she's hurt me. We both know I'm only kidding though since I'm the one with the super powers, not her. It took a while to adjust to that – Buffy not being a Slayer. Just me. The only girl in all the World.

Not gonna lie and say it was easy. B's never been good at sharing, especially not her Slayer powers. It helped end the selfish sting a little, however, that her not dieing of cancer is what saved the world from the fucked up Future she got sucked into. If she had died, I would have stayed in Hell. Wolfram and Hart would have taken over Earth, having a complete monopoly on Magic, and ultimately the evil law firm would have run the planet into the ground. But she didn't die. And she saved us all.

Whenever she gets a little pouty or nostalgic for "the good 'ol days" of being the Slayer, I remind her of that. But ultimately, this was all Buffy had ever wanted – to be a normal girl. To have a normal life. So in the end, she got everything she ever dreamed of.

And me? Well, I got the girl.

"Are you the potential new buyers?" a high-pitched feminine voice asks.

Buffy looks at me excitedly and squeezes my arm through my leather jacket. "We're potential home buyers!" she whispers at me.

A short, robust woman with matronly eyes and a mom haircut waddles toward us with her hand stuck out. "I'm Janice," she tells us with a lively glint in her grey eyes. "I live next door."

Buffy grabs the lady's hand and gives it a firm shake. "I'm Buffy," she introduces herself kindly. She nods back towards me where I'm standing a few feet back on the sidewalk. "And that's my partner, Faith."

I kind of choke on my tongue at that one. The two of us stopped hiding our relationship the moment she was dragged down to hell by Red and Ken, but B and I hadn't really discussed how we were gonna, ya know…break in the neighbors. But I guess she just sent off the inaugural float of our Coming Out parade.

"Partner?" the woman asks, with a gleam in her grey eyes. "I have a partner too!"

Buffy and I exchange a silent glance with each other. "Does this woman have a clue what we're talking about?"

Janice continues talking excitedly. "We've been together for twenty-one years. Had a ceremony and everything. We have two children. Sam, he's thirteen and Sophie, she's ten."

"Oh!" Buffy chirps, an adorable smile on her lips. "What great ages."

I'm glad B's able to keep up some semblance of a conversation, cause I'm seriously stunned. I think it would have fazed me less if I'd found out they were demons or something, but this I wasn't expecting. Our next-door-neighbors are lesbians?

Buffy wanders off because the home inspector shows up in his red van, leaving me behind to entertain Janice.

"So what do you two do?" she asks eagerly, staring up at me with those piercingly interrogative eyes.

I rub at the back of my neck nervously. "Uhm, I guess you could say I work night security," is what stumbles out. Shit, you think I'd be more prepared for this kind of thing. "And B, I mean Buffy," I correct myself, "she's a school counselor."

"Oh, how lovely," Janice gushes. "I was really hoping that our new neighbors would have children for Sam and Sophie to play with. Are you and Buffy planning on having children?"

I struggle not to choke on my own tongue and saliva. Janice is certainly…curious. I shove my hands in the front pockets of my jeans. "We, uh, haven't really…talked about that," I manage to sputter out.

"How did the two of you meet?" she asks, still curious as ever.

I shift my stance, transferring the weight from one foot to the other. "Uh, we met a while back in high school," I say vaguely.

I scan the front yard anxiously to find out where B has disappeared to, silently cursing her for leaving me behind to fend for myself. I'm not used to all this neighborly stuff. I've never been good at small talk unless Janice wants to hear about me wrestling alligators in the nude. But, I guess ya never know.

My eye catches on a bit of golden hair and I see my girl, staring up at the gutters as the home inspector explains something to her. The sun is shimmering off her light blonde hair and she pushes her large sunglasses back onto her forehead so she can get a better purchase of what the inspector is pointing at. In the background, Janice is apologizing for the length of her yard, saying something about how she and her partner are soccer moms and have been too busy to mow the grass lately.

"Uh-huh," I nod absentmindedly, distracted by the knee-length skirt my girl's wearing today that highlights her slender, muscled calves. Not being a Slayer certainly hasn't hurt Buffy's body in anyway. In fact, she's put on a little more soft curves like she had when I first met her back in Sunnydale. She complains about it, but I insist there's just more of her to love. 'Course she still gets hella upset that I can eat like a garbage disposal and not gain an ounce.

"I guess I'd better get up there," I nod toward our new potential home. All we're waiting on is for the inspector to tell us the house is good to go and we'll close the deal. "Nice to, uh, meet you, Janice." I flash her a dazzling smile, making sure to show off my dimples. Suppose I'd better make an effort if the lady's gonna be living next to us.

Janice sighs wistfully. "I remember buying our first home together," she murmurs with a little glazed, far-off look in her eyes. Waving a curt goodbye, I chuckle under my breath and jog up the slight incline of the driveway, leaving Janice to reminisce on the curb.

I sneak up behind B, who's scrutinizing a stack of papers in her hands. Wrapping my arms around her thin waist, I nuzzle my nose into the crook of her neck. "Whatcha lookin' at good lookin'?" I murmur into her perfumed skin.

She leans back into my touch and I can hear the soft sigh escape her pink lips. "The house checks out," she reveals. "That was faster that I'd expected. Jim the inspector says he's never seen a house this sound before. New furnace, new water heater, new air conditioning."

"I knew we had good taste," I say, pressing my lips against the sweet spot in the nape of her neck.

Buffy turns to face me, her face lit up with happiness. It makes my heart flutter a little inside its cage of ribs to see her so happy and to know that I'm the reason behind it. It honestly still seems improbable, if not impossible.

B wraps her arms around my neck and leans in. Her soft mouth is just centimeters from my own. "Well I know that I have amazing taste," she murmurs. Her sweet breath feels warm on my face. "But yours has always been a little questionable."

I close the short distance between our mouths and hungrily take her bottom lip in between my upper and lower teeth. I suck the pouting lip into my mouth and hear the quiet growl that radiates deep in her throat. My wandering hands find themselves in the small of her back and they begin to toy with the bottom hem of her pastel-colored top. My fingertips can feel the heat of her tan skin and I want nothing more than to feel the expanse of that heat, naked and pressed against my own form.

I pause when I hear a wolf-whistle. I reluctantly pull myself away from Buffy's addictive mouth and look past her head to see our new neighbor, Janice, standing in her backyard smiling widely and giving us two thumbs up.

"We have an audience, babe," I groan under my breath. "I think we'd better invest in a fence."

"And some curtains," she adds helpfully.

I bend over and quickly clasp one hand behind Buffy's knees. A small squeal of surprise escapes her lips when I lift her up, holding her in my arms as though she weighed no more than a bag of groceries.

"What are you doing?" she protests, kicking her legs slightly in the air. "I'm wearing a skirt," she reminds me, dangerously narrowing her eyes.

I subtly tighten my hold on her body. "Isn't it tradition for the bride to get carried over the threshold?" I ask innocently.

"B-bride?" she asks, her voice little more than a whisper.

My boots sound loud clomping on the cement pavement up to the back of the house, but I'm sure the thumping of my heart sounds louder. "I had to live a hundred and fifty years without you, B," I say. "You think I want to waste any more time without you?"

"Not complaining….just surprised is all." She gives me that patented half-smile of hers and I seriously doubt I'm going to make it into the house before she loses a piece of clothing. I slightly struggle with the back screen door, what with my arms full of hot blondeness, but I somehow manage to wrangle the obstacle open without having to tear it from its hinges.

Buffy, still in my arms, looks around the back room with a wry smile on her lips. "The kitchen seems as good of a place to start on your 'To Do' list, don't you think?"

"Fuck yeah," I mumble in agreement, slamming the back door a little too aggressively with the help of a heavy boot.

I set my girl down on the kitchen island that we thought was a necessity. Buffy imagined pancake breakfasts and I imagined this very moment. I slide out of my leather jacket, letting it fall haphazardly on the tiled floor. Her smooth legs are too much to ignore anymore, and my free hands now glide up the tanned skin, unobstructed by any clothing.

"I fuckin' love it when you wear skirts, baby," I growl quietly, looking hard into her hazel-green eyes. Her eyes are half closed and even if I couldn't smell the arousal radiating off her in waves, I know she's as turned on as me just from the look on her face.

My hands continue their journey up those irresistible stems and I stop when my fingertips brush against the lace edges of her underwear. A quiet whimper escapes her mouth and I smile knowingly at the slight blush that's crept onto her face. I can't help but smirk, knowing it's me that gets her this hot. What can I say? I'm a cocky bastard sometimes.

I lean forward and press my mouth against the flushed skin of her bare neck. "Gettin' wet, baby?" I murmur into her flesh. Not waiting for a response, my mouth continues to travel and I kiss along the hollow of her neck. She runs her fingers through my wild waves, slightly tugging my hair at the roots. Fuck, she knows how to make me run hot.

I bite the nape of her neck. It's not as hard as I'd like, because I know it pisses her off when I mark her like that. Apparently at nearly thirty, she's too old for hickies. I kiss and lick at the tender skin.

I rub my strong hands along the insides of her smooth thighs and I can feel her part her legs just a little more for me. Hooking my fingers under the delicate material of her lace panties, I quickly pull them down her lower torso. She lifts her backside a little to help me out, and I hear her hiss when her naked ass hits the cool granite of the kitchen countertop.

With one hand at the nape of her neck and the other still under her skirt, I lean her backwards, slowly reclining Buffy so her back is resting flush on the island countertop. Thankful for the formidable size of the counter, I pull myself up there as well. I crawl in between her legs, so our hips bump against each other and hover above her angelic body.

She strokes lazily at my bare arms, the muscles twitching underneath my blue tank top. "I love you so much, Fai," she croons to me. She reaches up and pulls my face down so we're kissing again. It starts off just as languid as her touch, but I know the hunger burns in both our bellies.

I can't help myself when my lower torso begins to grind into her pussy. Buffy groans when she feels the rough denim of my jeans rub against her naked cunt. I thrust hard into her and she gasps, one long sweet breath rushing from her lungs. She wraps those long, slender legs around me, forcing out pulsing cores tighter together. We push and pull and grind against each other for a few moments and I'm suddenly breathing heavy and can feel the sweat starting to pool in the small of my back.

Needing to feel more of her, I slide one hand in between our bodies. I toss the cotton material of her skirt out of the way, bunching it up around her slender waist. She gasps again when my fingers slide through the slick folds of her shaved pussy. I can feel her arching up into my touch, needing to feel more of me as well.

My digits find their way to her seeping hole and I gather her arousal on my fingers, swirling them around the entrance of her sex. Not wanting her clit to feel left out, I spread some of the thick juices on the throbbing bundle of nerves.

"Oh, God," she moans, her eyes rolling back.

I grunt as I push two fingers up her tight, unrelenting channel. She's so fuckin' tight around my fingers I think I'm gonna cum just from feeling her insides grabbin' at me. "Buffy," I whimper out.

I grab onto her hands with my unoccupied hand and hold her arms above her head. The granite top feels cold and hard in comparison to her warm, soft body. I begin a slow, even rhythm with my fingers. I can feel and hear her getting wetter with every thrust. The clicking noise in the kitchen is fuckin' music to my ears. I keep my gentle, but insistent hold on her wrists with my free hand. Our sweaty foreheads are pressed together. I press my lips against her open, gasping mouth and I can practically taste her as she groans into my mouth.

I quicken my pace inside her and her surprisingly strong legs tighten around me like a fuckin' vice. "Yes, Faith," she moans and presses her mouth into my neck. "God, your fingers," she babbles. "Fuck, don't stop."

I feel her teeth scrape against my neck and I almost lose my control. It's times like this when I have to remind myself how much stronger I am than B and not totally lose it. She's pulled her hands free from my hold and is scraping her short, polished fingernails down my back, having wiggled her hands under the thin tank top I'm wearing. I arch my back, loving the rough touch and thrust into her a little harder.

My newly free hand worms it's way up her top, forcing the material to release its hold on her damp skin. I grab onto a well-proportioned breast. Panting, I feel like a prepubescent boy reaching 2nd base for the first time. Not bothering to unsnap the undergarment, I slip my hand beneath the underwire and roll her already tight nipple between two expert fingers.

"Fuck," she chants, slamming her eyes shut. "Fuck…fuck, baby."

I can feel her tightening even more around my two fingers and I know she can't hold on much longer. "Just let go, baby," I softly urge. I kick and lick at her collarbone, tasting the saltiness of her skin.

My thumb bumps into her aching clit and I feel her stiffen against my body. I thrust deep inside her and rub the bit of flesh with the pad of my thumb. Her pussy spasms around my saturated fingers, swallowing them repeatedly and she cries out unintelligibly. I continue to rub relentlessly until I feel the quiver and pulsing of her tight cunt stop.

My body collapses on top of her in exhaustion, but I know she can handle my slight weight, Slayer or not. Her eyes are closed and her breathing is heavy, but the small, satisfied smile on her curled up lips lets me know I did my job well.

I gently kiss her sweaty forehead and push away some errant strands stuck to the skin. "Good, baby?" I ask, already knowing the answer.

She carnally rolls her hips into mine and I can't help the groan that falls out of my mouth. I'm so worked up, all she needs to do is touch me and I'll pop.

A sweet smile creeps onto her lips. "So, where's next on your list?"

FIN