Thanks for the reviews. Here's the next section of act 3. Its a long one and I hope it keeps you going for a little while 'cause for the next two weeks I have to concentrate on an assignment instead. Anyway, enjoy, and remember, reviews are always weclome.
Victor and his friend stood in a corner of the ballroom, their expressions haughty and bored respectively
Victor and his friend stood in a corner of the ballroom, their expressions haughty and bored respectively. Victor nibbled on a salmon sandwich; and a champagne flute was looking in danger of accidental crushing in his friend's hand.
This was not the scientist's idea of a good time at all. He looked forward to this gathering every year as a place where he could talk science and history and technology with people from his own era. With people who didn't chase you with a flaming torch just because occasionally you needed to kill a virgin in order to further scientific discovery.
"I don't know what is worse," his friend – who only came to the gatherings because he did – suddenly started a conversation. "When they openly stare in disgust or when they pretend not to see me at all."
"Don't be silly. There is nothing wrong with how you look," Victor chided, either being kind or blinded by affection. "It's just that you are so tall. Perhaps if you slouch a little?"
"You always tell me not to slouch."
Victor sighed at the pitfalls of early mental conditioning. "Then let us stand closer to the stage. You can sit on the edge and you will not appear so towering."
They did a sideways shuffle to where Victor was pointing. With his eyes straight ahead and his back very stiff, his friend lowered himself to the edge of the stage.
"There, that is better." He patted the big man on the shoulder and activity further up the stage caught his attention. "Now, I wonder what they are doing."
Four boys were fussing and fretting over some technical equipment that was sparking raw magic out of its antennas. It was very obviously a conductor of some kind, possibly a transmuter, but it wasn't a style he had ever come across before.
Always on the look out for fresh ideas for the lab, Victor patted his friend on the shoulder again. "Stay here a minute. I'm just going to see if they need any help."
On the other side of the ballroom, having come out of a different door, Ptah stood nervously by the edge of the dance floor with Zeke. Together they commented on the skill of the dancers – which wasn't in abundance – and, well, the pretty girls.
It wasn't long though before the youthful exuberance of the crowd started getting to Zeke. "I'm going out for a cigarette. You want one?"
"I don't smoke. Why are you going outside? No one else is bothering." Ptah did not want to be left alone.
"I need to take a leak as well." Zeke explained.
"How do you cock your leg when you're wearing pants…?" Ptah began, but then decided he wasn't that curious and waved his hands in front of him. "Forget I asked."
Zeke gave him a toothy grin and answered anyway. "Not easily. I'll be back in a minute."
When Ptah was alone he looked around, rubbing the bandages on the back of his neck self-consciously and trying not to make eye-contact with anyone. It wasn't that he was a timid man usually. Back in his own youth he'd been quite the animal, he never missed a toga party, but these days he didn't get out much and while his pyramid might be crowded, it wasn't particularly noisy and the dead servants in their with him couldn't exactly be called boisterous. Even the guards killed and embalmed to protect him just laid there dead these days – very unprofessional. If their commanders hadn't perished three thousand years ago he'd have had them fired.
Suddenly eye contact was unavoidable – a shaven haired youth had been heading drunkenly off of the dance floor straight for him. At first Ptah held his breath and the boy seemed ready to walk right by him, but the boy happened to look to the side just at the wrong moment. He stopped, still looking sideways and then very slowly he took a few steps backwards until they were standing face to face. The lad studied him closely as if trying to remember him and Ptah still held his breath and fought the urge to hide behind closed eyelids.
"You came in costume?" The youth finally asked in a loud, disdainful voice. "What are you? Ten?"
"I… I thought it was an All Hallows Eve party," Ptah stammered. Were these brats not in costume then? Did they really wear those garish, impractical clothes all year round?
"You're one of the Bou geeks, ain'cha?"
Ptah said nothing because he didn't understand the question.
"So what are you supposed to be then? Mr Bump?"
This was insulting. The boy didn't even know what he was dealing with, let alone who.
"I'm a Mummy!" he said indignantly.
The boy gave him another good hard look before shaking his head slightly. "Nah, no offence, but you look nothing like The Mummy."
"What?" Ptah fumed, but the boy had already meandered off the floor now.
Suddenly feeling very warm beneath his shroud and bandages, he went outside after all to find Zeke. He was just zipping himself up with one hand and lighting a cigarette with the other.
"I've changed my mind, give me a cigarette," Ptah demanded. "It's not like one's going to kill me. Not like any will kill me."
Zeke shook his pack out and offered them without comment, aware his friend was more agitated than five minutes ago. "What happened?"
"The nerve!" Ptah leaned forward to accept a light from Zeke and then took a few fast puffs before letting his hand drop to his side.
He began to tell the story, still full of righteous indignation, when he smelled smoke.
"Ow, ow, ow." He dropped the cigarette and patted at his thigh where his shroud had caught fire and the loose bandage around his arm then attracted the flame. "Damn, Zeke, do something! I'm practically made of sawdust these days!"
Zeke helped him pat the fire out, singing a little hair himself and a few moments later Ptah was breathing hard as he checked his outfit – it was mostly just the loose ends of his bandages that had gone up, the only real lasting damage being the smell of smoke than clung to him. He stamped on the remains of his cigarette.
"I think I just remembered why I don't smoke."
Meanwhile, Iggy was oblivious to his friend's bonfire as he sat in the study – where earlier he had stolen the Vodka – and dealt out a hand of poker. None of the kids in there seemed to take any notice of his unusual appearance or his superior age. He liked to think it was because he was jovial person who could get on with anyone, but he'd been around enough to know it probably had more to do with the two full bottles of champagne he'd brought in with him and the fact that he had deliberately lost the first two hands and they were winning his money.
"Right, five card draw, deutheth are wild, ten buckth in the pot to play." He grinned to himself as six lads all put ten dollars onto the table.
He'd lose one more, just to be on the safe side and then he would start playing for real. He looked up with a surprisingly handsome smile as a young lady came and sat on the arm of his chair.
"Kith for luck, my love?" he asked cheekily.
Giggling, she kissed him on his lumpy forehead.
"Come on, Faith. You can get this," Buffy grinned across the green baise at her.
Faith nodded, biting her lip as she leaned slightly this way and slightly that to check her angle. It wasn't the easiest shot in the world. She only had the eight ball left to pocket. Elvis and Harry Potter still had a couple of stripes left on the table, but they were good players. If she didn't pot this, they would clear up, and if by luck they didn't? Well, it would be Buffy's turn again and who knew who would get the concussion this time.
Faith leaned low, spreading her upper body across the table and pulled her cue back. She couldn't see all of the black eight ball, there was a green, stripey one blocking a crescent of it, but if she could bounce the cue ball gently off the closest cushion and crack it just so; the money ball was going in the designated pocket like a ferret down a rabbit hole.
She took a deep breath, aware that if she did miss this, she was gonna be missing it in front of half the bar. The whooping and hollering of the last four games had drawn quite a crowd around the table and now, Presley and Potter, sensing her attempt at deep concentration, were starting to playfully smack talk her.
Blocking them all out, she drew the cue back a little further and steadied it, tilting the thumb she was using as a rest up a little higher for a better angle.
"You can do it, baby." Buffy said excitedly from the behind the elected pocket.
Faith glanced up with a cocky smile as she started to bring the cue forward, but her eyes bulged and she just managed to raise the cue tip before it could miss-hit the white ball. Buffy was leaning right over the table encouragingly, not realising she was letting everyone on this side of the room look straight down her cardboard-stiff sparkly bodice.
"What's wrong?" Buffy asked worriedly.
Faith laughed, but decided not to embarrass her. "Nothin'. It's just looking at you is kinda distracting."
"Oh," Buffy smiled, obviously pleased with her distracting influence. "I'll step this way a little then."
She moved to the other side of the table and stood beside it. There was some humorous booing from the men behind Faith, but all it took was one lightening fast turn and a glare so strong it forced several of the men to lean back in their seats, and they all shut up, holding their hands up apologetically. They might not know her yet, but they clearly weren't too stupid.
With another smile at Buffy, Faith leaned back over the table and went through her lining up process again. Once more the crowd went silent with anticipation and this time Faith didn't disappoint. On your marks, get set, POW!
The eight ball practically burned a trail through the baize on its way to sinking into the pocket with a satisfying thunk.
Some of the crowd clapped. Buffy jumped up and down doing some kind of funny cheer routine.
Faith held the cue above her head in a victory pose before pointing it at Elvis. "That's match."
"Best of seven?" he asked hopefully.
"Not tonight, dude. Time to cash the chips."
Sighing, he went to the bar. Faith put the cue back in the wall rack as Buffy came to give her a loose hug. She didn't have time to return it before Buffy was stepping back again and then Harry Potter was shaking her hand.
"That was a blast," he said. "We should definitely do it again sometime."
"Maybe," Faith smiled politely. "But I think I probably just used up all my beginners luck in one go."
She saw Buffy smirk at her. Hey, so she was incurable, so what? If you got all cocky you could only fleece them once, but if you acted unsure of yourself, you could come back to fleece them again and again. It was just good business sense.
Elvis came back with a jug of beer in one hand and a jug of the green cocktail in his other. They'd probably cost him plenty, but Faith had gotten the feeling that Buffy would prefer betting for drinks than for cash so she had suggested it.
"Thanks," Faith took them both from him and started to turn away. "See you around."
"Hey, do you mind if we come and join you?" Potter asked.
Faith looked at Buffy, not knowing what to say. She sure as hell didn't want two strangers sitting with them, but would Buffy think she was a complete bitch if she told them so.
"Actually, you seem like nice guys, but we're kind of on a date," Buffy spoke up, surprising the hell out of Faith with her bluntness.
"Well," Elvis looked around the bar and then over to their table. "I think they've left without you. Which is bad, and I'm sorry, but it's also good, because now you can spend the rest of the evening with us." He gave a bright grin and held his arms out, trying to sell his offer.
Faith stared at him, so did Buffy, and then they turned and stared at each other for a beat. Faith cracked up at his cluelessness, not even bothering to hide it. Buffy did her best though as she explained.
"No, I mean we're on a date. Together. As in…" Buffy went to take her hand, but Faith was still holding the two jugs of alcohol. She put her arm around Faith's shoulders instead. "Together."
Harry Potter's mouth had dropped open and looked like it was going to stay there for a while. He was blushing too, which seemed a bit extreme for a guy her own age, but the boys here probably lead pretty sheltered lives – all barn dances and hay rides around here.
Elvis just grinned. "You're kidding, right?"
They both shook their heads.
"You're really…?"
They both nodded their heads.
"Damn, what a waste," he winked at Faith and then turned to rack up another game of pool for him and his buddy.
Harry continued to stare boggle-eyed at them. When it grew uncomfortable, Faith nodded for Buffy to follow her back to their table.
"You okay?" she asked as they took their seats again.
"Very okay," Buffy grinned, taking her straw out of her empty glass and sticking it into her jug of cocktail.
Faith chuckled. "I mean about the whole 'coming out to virtual strangers' thing?"
Buffy stopped slurping and looked up. "Oh. Yeah, I think so. Anyway it was funny, and they took it okay, right? Not that it matters if they didn't, but they did… right?"
"Yeah, they didn't seem bothered. Little disappointed maybe that I'm off the market," she grinned. "I just didn't think you'd wanna do it like that, or this soon."
Buffy shrugged again. "I'm happy, I'm having a good night, and…" she grinned at her jug of greenness, she'd already done some major sucking and it hadn't even made a dent yet. "…I'm a little drunk. Plus I didn't want to have to share you any more tonight. Pool was fun, but I want some more me and you time now. I'll admit, if all of those stars hadn't aligned together just now, maybe I wouldn't have been quite so brave quite so soon, but they did and I'm not gonna feel bad about it."
Faith nodded. As answers went, it was a good one.
"Oh, but," Buffy dropped her straw and laid her hand on Faith's arm. "You were okay with that, right? It didn't make you uncomfortable me blurting it out? I didn't even think. I know we haven't talked about that yet and what with everyone back at the camp already knowing before it happened and the whole taking it slow thing, it's not seemed all that urgent, but maybe you didn't want the whole world knowing yet and I should have checked with you before opening my big mouth…"
Faith leaned sideways so she could kiss Buffy on the lips. She didn't linger, didn't try to make it more than an affectionate peck, before leaning away again.
"Would I have done that if I had a problem with people knowing about us?"
Buffy shook her head, touching her lips lightly, "Only in opposite world."
Faith chuckled and took a series of length swallows straight from the jug of beer. Wiping her lips after and accidentally smudging some of her carefully applied zombie make-up – which didn't make a lot of difference – Faith stood up again.
"Come on, I wanna dance with you."
Buffy giggled, not moving. "That's not how you do it."
"Huh?"
"Date rules, remember? Ask, don't tell."
Faith smirked as she tried to decide between the urge to just throw Buffy over her shoulder and carry her to the dance floor and doing it the way Buffy wanted. It wasn't easy, but she chose the Buffy way in the end.
Leaning down until her mouth was close to Buffy's ear, she asked, "Will you do me the honour of swaying, grinding and generally wrapping your smart, interesting, sexy body around mine for a few songs." She held out her hand.
Buffy grinned as she accepted Faith's hand. "Well seeing as you asked so nicely."
Laughing, Faith pulled her towards the busy dance floor.
Back at the camp, the pizza delivery guy timed it perfectly by arriving at the end of the first movie.
"You go," Xander nudged her with his elbow when the doorbell rang.
"No you go." She nudged him back. "It might be monsters and you'll need to protect me, or at least let it eat you to give me time to escape."
"Since when are scared of monsters?" He grabbed his wallet from the coffee table, but didn't make any move to get up.
"Uh, always, but even more so since you just made me watch that film." She shuddered at the memory. "Monsters are scary enough, why do they have to have tentacles to go on top? It's overkill, scary overkill."
Xander held some money out to her just as the doorbell rang again. "I can't go. I'm in my underwear."
Willow gestured at herself. "So am I!"
"No, you're in skimpy pyjamas; it's not indecent exposure if it's sexy."
Willow grinned happily at his assessment, but shook her head again when he tried to push the money at her.
"It might not be classed as indecent exposure, but I'm still leaving a little less to the imagination of a pizza boy than me or the law is comfortable with."
Vi suddenly stomped down the front stairs. "We have one pizza firm that'll deliver out here and you're pissing them off by not answering the door?"
"We're a little underdressed," said Willow, and then regretted it when Vi looked over, her eyes going wide, before slamming them towards the front door again as she opened it.
"It's not what you're thinking," Xander chuckled nervously.
"I'm not thinking anything," Vi replied, but she sounded more like she just wished she wasn't.
She spoke to the pizza boy, walked close enough to grope for the money in Xander's hand without looking at them and then walked back to the door again. She paid, accepted the two large pizzas, said goodbye and closed the door again.
"It's really not," Willow promised. "It's just an underwear party." She winced. "And I'm not even in my underwear, I'm wearing pyjamas."
Vi looked over again and then slammed her eyes to the front once more. "O-okay."
Willow looked down at the dark blue mid-riff baring silky chemise and the matching short-shorts in case she had actually had just put on underwear instead. "They are pyjamas!"
"It's okay, I believe you," Vi all but stammered. "You're just sitting in the dark, in your underwear, watching porn, no big deal."
"What?"
Willow and Xander's eyes both shot to the television in time to see a woman shedding her clothes with blissful abandon inside what looked to be a wooden cage in the centre of a mud hut village. The next movie had started.
"No, she's about to turn into a werewolf," Willow explained, turning back to Vi, but the girl had already rushed up the stairs to get away.
"That was awkward." Willow muttered, settling back to watch the film.
"Well, providing she doesn't actually tell her fanciful tale to Giles, I think we'll be okay." Xander leaned back too, turning the volume up a little so they could really enjoy the screaming terror as the nubile werewolf tore first through her cage and then the foolish villagers.
After a few minutes of gratuitous on-screen violence, he realised something was missing. "She took both pizzas upstairs!"
"Well you paid for them, go and get one." Willow nudged him.
"Corner her in my bedroom, in my underwear and demand she gives me what she owes me? With what she's already thinking, I don't think so. You go."
"That's almost as bad," Willow pointed out.
They looked at each other trying to figure out how to get their pizza.
"You know, she's a Slayer," Willow suddenly thought. "AKA Pizza Guzzler. I bet she planned this."
"You think she answered the door, embarrassed us with her pornographic accusations and then ran from our potentially amorous and molestious selves just so she can eat both pizzas?" Xander asked incredulously.
"Yep," Willow nodded confidently. "And it's worked like a charm."
Xander sat back again, smiling slightly. "We should put her on the Council's tactical team."
"I didn't know the Council had a tactical team anymore."
"Then we should put her in charge of forming the Council's tactical team," he said with an even wider smile.
Willow thought about it and then thought about how Vi was upstairs right now enjoying two pizzas and how neither of them was sure enough her ruse was a ruse to go and find out.
Eventually she said, "You should speak to Giles about it."
"You think?"
"Well having one person on the tactical team has got to be better than none, right?"
Rona crept through the near absolute darkness between the walls. It wasn't completely black. The light from the open bookshelf didn't reach this far in, but there was a slit of a window at the other end letting in greyer darkness from outside. That didn't help her see her hand in front of her face, but it did allow her to see the first door.
Half way up the wall was a green and white glow in the dark sign bearing the word EXIT in block letters. She stared at it for a long time, wondering who the hell would put signs like this in a secret tunnel – a very health and safety conscious someone obviously. She put her ear to the door, but could hear nothing but her own elevated heartbeat and so groped the door until she found a handle. It was a short lever; as she slowly pushed it down there was a click and the door came towards her just a little bit.
Only more darkness leaked through the crack.
She hesitated just a second before pulling it open and sticking her head in. Yeah, that was just a whole lot of darkness. If the freaks she was following had gone in there, they couldn't be doing much but sitting really quietly. Rona could sense it was a closed in space with no windows and no way out except the doorway she was standing in even without being able to see a thing. Which was actually pretty cool, but not exactly a skill that would take her far. The room was probably a closet or store room, not worth tripping over things in the dark to explore.
The thought did occur to her 'Why would someone build a store room you could only get into and out of through a corridor too narrow to carry much more than a broom down?' but, like the exit signs, it wasn't a question her frightened brain could give time to. Focusing on one thought – finding the party crashers – was the only way she could keep putting one foot in front of the other.
She pushed the door shut again until she heard it click and carried on down the passage. The brick on either side of her was cold but not damp and it smelled more dusty than musty. There would probably be footprints to follow if she had any light to follow them with. From all around her the muted sounds of the party – music, chatter, laughter, drunken idiots – filtered through the walls.
She had only gone maybe fifteen feet when she came to another faintly glowing exit sign. She pressed her ear to the door, heard nothing and started feeling for the handle when she heard something that made her freeze.
Footsteps.
Holding her breath, Rona instinctively flattened herself against the wall – not that it would do any good in this tight space – and tried to tell where they were coming from and where they were going to. All she could figure was that they were definitely inside the walls with her – not a comforting thought. The hobnailed boots she could hear rang out dully on the same cold stone that was beneath her own feet. Other than that, the sounds of the party and the echo-y blackness stretching in both directions made it impossible for her to pinpoint the direction of the noise, only that it was coming closer.
Not waiting for the owner of those heavy sounding boots to come any nearer, Rona pulled the lever down on the door behind her and slipped straight in, more worried about what was coming at her than what she was backing into.
Pulling the door shut, she leaned against the tallboy disguise, still able to hear the approaching boots. They got louder and louder.
"Please don't be coming in here," she murmured. "Please don't be coming in here."
Mind you, if it was a Vampire it wouldn't need to enter the room to know she was there. Hadn't Spike once said he could smell human fear a mile off? If that was true, to a Vampire she was probably stinking the whole house out. Not to mention the fact that they had hearing even better than hers. She held her breath again, but could do nothing about the pounding of her heart.
Finally the footsteps seemed to pass the door and keep going. She let out her breath and stood there panting for a few moments, getting air into burning lungs again. Only then did she turn around… very slowly, because suddenly the fear had gripped her that the monster was actually standing right behind her in the darkness.
It wasn't and unless anyone was hiding behind the antique furniture she was alone. The room was dark, obviously the partying teens hadn't strayed this far into the house yet, but moonlight shone through half a dozen windows along one wall making long patches of light and shadow across the room. It was a dining room, although not one like she had ever seen outside of the pages of Ideal Home magazine. A table of shiny wood was in the centre with room for twelve straight-backed chairs around it. There was a sideboard with a finely painted dinner service stacked on it. There were still-life oil paintings of various fine foods hanging on the walls. There was a gramophone on a table in one corner. There was a door!
She went to it, deciding being a hero was much more fun when she wasn't doing it alone and found out that it wasn't just a door, it was a locked door.
Sighing in resignation, she turned to go back the way she had come, but paused long enough to look for anything useful she could take with her. There was a candle in a fancy holder in the centre of the table, but no matches that she could see. She pulled out the drawers in the sideboard and found a tray of silver cutlery.
"Sweet!"
She grabbed a silver knife first of all, blunt as butter but that wouldn't matter with her strength, and then realised it wouldn't do anything to a vampire, unless the vampire stayed still long enough for her to cut through his neck. In the end she dropped the knife again and grabbed a wooden spoon instead. As an afterthought she grabbed a knife again too and stuck it in her pocket.
It took her a second to find the lever on this side of the door, she had to pull some drawers filled with crisp white table linen out of the way first, reach in and feel about for it. Once it clicked down, she gently eased the door outwards, listened for any sound and then slipped back out into the dark passage. She started walking towards the window at the end again, the wooden spoon held tightly in her fist.
"Every other sentence that comes out of your mouth these days starts with either 'Reece' or 'my boyfriend'," Kennedy sniped as she stuck her head in the study to look for Rona. "Have you never heard of having your own identity?"
"You went behind my back to my… him instead of coming to me with your problems!" Dawn argued. "Haven't you ever heard of sister solidarity?"
"If they're my problems I can talk to who I like about them." Kennedy snapped.
"And how would you like it if I was all curled up in a bed with Willow telling her my problems?" Dawn snapped back.
There was a corridor leading away from the foyer on the other side. It didn't look particularly suspicious except for the fact that none of the rooms seemed to have been opened up for the party and considering how many kids were crammed into every other room on the ground floor it stood out.
The corridor was blissfully shadowy and empty and Reece probably would have walked right by without even noticing it if he hadn't been scouring every inch of the place for Rona.
"We weren't in it; we were on top of it!" Kennedy said.
"Correction, you were on top of each other." Dawn said.
Okay, they were back to the beginning of the argument now and they hadn't needed him the first time around, so…
"Girls, you keep checking this side of the house, I'm going to go and check the other side."
"Shouldn't we all stick together?" Kennedy asked as she moved to the next doorway.
He had suggested that when the six of them had first split into the threes. Just in case whatever had created the sudden magical disturbance in the house was a threat, but now he just shook his head fast.
"We'll search faster if we split up."
"Do you want me to come with you?" Dawn asked with a smile.
"No!" He said quickly. "You both stay together and…" he turned away "…not near me."
He could hear their bickering start all over again as he walked down the shadow filled hallway and heaved a sigh of relief to be away from it for a little while.
Dawn could whine for the United States in the Maddening Olympics and if there was a 'stubborn as a mule' category too, it would be a photo finish between the two girls.
One door down the hallway stood wide open allowing soft light to fall into the corridor. As he stepped inside he noticed it was coming from several gas lamps set around the walls as well as a fire in the hearth. It was a library, but he resisted his natural inclination to touch and read and absorb and followed his equally natural curiosity instead.
There was a bookcase at the back of the room that had been pushed inwards to create a doorway into a dark space beyond. His excitement grew as the adventurous little boy inside of him woke up. He had read enough Enid Blyton as a child to be unable to refuse the chance at an honest to goodness secret passage way.
He rationalised it easily. They had checked everywhere else in the house and found no Rona, which meant she had to be someone where hidden. Secret passages were about as hidden as you could get. Therefore, he should check the secret passage way for Rona.
He shut the door and turned the key in the lock so that no one could follow him into the room. As an afterthought he pocketed the key too so that no one coming out of the passage way could leave either, and then, knowing full well that if Rona had suddenly popped up all safe and sound and no longer missing, he'd still be doing this, he slipped through to the darkness behind the bookcase.
It really was dark, which was probably a mandatory for hidden ways, but a few fiercely burning torches along the brick walls would have taken away none of the adventure, but most of the stumbling.
"Let there be light," he said with laughter in his voice and flicked on his Zippo lighter. "See, now if only one of the Famous Five had smoked, they'd have had things much easier."
Feeling much happier than he had since following Kennedy up the stairs to that bloody bedroom, he set off to explore… and find Rona of course.
They had danced to fast songs first and Buffy had, as requested, swayed, grinded and generally wrapped herself around Faith. It had been fun and not just a little arousing.
Their dancing back when things were good between them in Sunnydale – all seven days of it – had sometimes blurred the line between friendly and down-right sexy anyway and the feelings that had left her with had confused the hell out of her Angel-loving self. Now she knew what those feelings were and she knew it was okay, better than okay even, to enjoy them and, damn it, she was.
When a love ballad replaced the house that had been playing Faith took her hand again to lead her back to the table. Buffy didn't move and when her arm was at full stretch, Faith turned to see what was going on.
"Where do you think you're going?"
Faith pointed her free hand over her shoulder, "To my beer."
"Nope." Buffy shook her head.
"No?" Faith raised an eyebrow.
"It's your turn to wrap around my body."
"I'm all for that, babe," Faith grinned. "Let's grab our coats and go home. I promise to wrap myself all over you."
Buffy rolled her eyes and tugged hard on Faith's hand, pulling her close. "Dance," she demanded. "And I won't hold that comment against you."
Faith didn't give in that easily. She looked around at the other couples.
"I don't like dancing this slow. It feels wrong."
"How can it feel wrong? It's just you and me same as before, just slower."
"It's too…" Faith looked away, frowning slightly. "I don't know."
"It's too what, Faith?" Buffy pushed. "Too girly, too romantic, too 'on show', too…"
"Intimate," Faith interrupted.
"Too intimate?" Buffy frowned. "How can it be too intimate? We're not baring our souls. It's just dancing."
"No it's not. It's all about eye contact and smouldering gazes and bodies rubbing together and friction and heat and being able to feel our hearts beating in time."
As Faith spoke, she also demonstrated. Buffy ended up with one of Faith's arms around her waist, her other hand was holding Buffy's between their body's, between their breasts even, and as for smouldering gazes, Buffy couldn't breathe, let alone blink.
"It's making love standing up with our clothes on." Faith said, letting her arm drop from Buffy's waist. Smirking lightly, she added, "And we're not there yet, are we? I mean, if you're not ready for screwing you can't be ready for making love, that's way heavier."
Buffy's eyes narrowed in annoyance, but instead of saying anything she might regret she put her free arm around Faith's neck and gently wrestled for control of their hands until she was holding Faith's against the curve of her breast, over her heart. She felt Faith tense all over and ignored it as she pressed their bodies as close together as they could be and let her chin rest of Faith's shoulder so she could whisper into her ear.
"I get it. You're afraid of intimacy. The thought of letting your walls down in public, probably even just in front of me, is freaking you out. So much so that you're trying to piss me off to get out of it. That's not gonna happen, Faith. Or yeah, you pissing me off is happening right now, but you getting out of it, no. I know all about your get some and get gone philosophy, remember? And I'm sure it's a hard habit to break, but if you wanna be with me you gotta get over thinking that way."
They had started dancing, Buffy leading, Faith following as stiff as a dead board. She was deliberately looking away from Buffy and breathing kinda hard and kinda angrily. Buffy didn't know it was possible to breathe angrily, but apparently it was. She would have stopped there, and possibly started running for her life, but the fact that Faith was dancing despite being so angry only convinced Buffy she was right.
Still, softening her rightness couldn't hurt. "Freaking out is okay, by the way. I didn't mean to imply there is anything wrong with freaking out. It's just if you give in to it we'll never get anywhere and I want to get somewhere with you. Perhaps if we talked about…"
Faith interrupted her. "You want to get somewhere with me?"
"Yes, of course."
"You want to have a relationship with me?"
"Yes! That's my point. I don't want to just fool about; I want a proper relationship with you, which is why things like dancing are so important."
"But only if it's all on your terms."
"What?"
"B, you don't want me, you want some kind of… Faithbot!"
Buffy chuckled, "You wanna here a funny story about 'bots…?" she caught sight of Faith's expression. "…okay, not really the time for funny stories. Look, Faith, you're being ridiculous. The only reason I'd want a Faithbot is if I wanted to have a threesome with the two of you."
"Ya see, I have an opinion on our…" Faith began and then paused with a faraway look as she got the threesome visual. She seemed to like it, but quickly shook it out of her head. "…on our 'relationship' and you automatically think it's ridiculous."
"Well, you were talking about robots."
"No. I was talking about how absolutely everything has to be your way."
"Oh, you were?" Buffy asked. Faith nodded. "Well, that's ridiculous." Faith tried to step away, but Buffy wouldn't let her. "I'm serious. You make me sound like I'm trying to control you and I'm not."
"Not me. Us."
"Like when? You were the one who asked me on a date tonight, you picked the place, you picked all the activities, how am I'm controlling everything?"
"I told you I didn't want to dance to this crap and you wouldn't even listen."
"Oh, I ask for one thing and suddenly I'm Miss Controller. Sounds to me like you're the one who wants to control everything."
Faith pulled away enough to untangle her hand and loosely cup the side of Buffy's neck. "You're still not listening. You still think I'm thinking like I used to. Get some, get gone, you said it yourself. Use 'em and lose 'em was another. When have I given you the idea that I'm thinking that way about you?"
"Um, let me see," Buffy pretended to think about it. "How about when you slept with me and then disappeared before I even woke up, leaving a note that turned out to be a pack of lies? Although that's kind of an obvious one. How about when you failed to come home when you got released from prison and left me not knowing…?"
"Oh forget it," Faith pulled away completely and started to walk off. "You're never gonna let that go so what's the point."
Buffy reach for and caught her hand, yanking it so hard Faith twirled back towards her, their bodies thudding together. A few people looked over, but they were ignored by the Slayers. Buffy wrapped her arms tight around Faith's neck – if she was walking off again, Buffy was going along for the ride.
"You asked a question, I answered it. As for whether I'm ever gonna let it go – that depends on you."
"No, Buffy, it doesn't. You can keep saying that, but it really depends on you. You were right; intimacy scares the crap out of me. The only times I've been intimate with someone before haven't exactly been experiences I'm in a rush to repeat. Intimacy is a bad friggin' word as far as I'm concerned. Okay? But that's not why I didn't want a dance with you."
"Then why?"
"I told you! Dancing this close to you is driving me friggin' nuts. Being able to feel you against me, hearing you breathing in my ear, the smell of your hair and your skin and… damn! All this touch, but don't touch….its not natural. And I don't know whether you can turn yourself off and not think about it or whether you just don't want me all that much in the first place, but I'm going crazy over here and I don't mean the good, fun let's kill people kind of crazy, I'm talking the proper dribbling over myself and banging my head on the wall crazy. And I felt like that before we started dancing, and I felt like it before we left the porch tonight and I felt like it before I left your bedroom last night and… and I'm not saying you have to have sex with me or I'll lose it, or… or maybe I am, I don't even know right now because your… your… parts of you are all smooshed up against me and, wow, this must be what it feels like to be Willow. I really need my beer now," she pleaded.
Another song had ended and a new one begun during Faith's enlightening speech. Buffy thought about letting her off the hook and then thought 'Nah.' and kept her arms around Faith's neck. She did try to be a little less smooshy though, she wasn't a complete bitch.
"Just dance to the end of this song, please?" She batted her eyelashes and tried not to grin when it worked.
Faith groaned into her ear. "This is what I meant about being controlling. You like knowing I want to fuck you so bad it hurts because it gives you power over me. You only make out with me at night because you know it gets me all worked up and you like knowing I'm in the next room riding my fingers hard and thinking of you."
Arousal made Buffy tingle. "I didn't even know you did that."
"Everyone does that."
"I mean," Buffy swallowed and smooshed herself just a little closer. She felt Faith shiver. "I didn't know you did it because of me so I couldn't have been using it against you."
"Well now you know. What about you?"
"Like you said, everyone does."
"You know what I mean."
Buffy didn't have to answer. She could change the subject, she could suggest they finally go and get their drinks, but could she really give Faith a hard time about honesty and intimacy and then not offer it herself. Wasn't that being exactly as controlling as Faith said she was?
"Every night as soon as you close the door. Usually on top of the covers 'cause I like fantasizing you're gonna come back in for something and catch me." Buffy hid her blushing face in the crook of Faith's neck and bit back her smile. "There, now we have equal ammunition."
For the first time since asking for a slow dance, Buffy was actually getting one, probably only because she had just rendered Faith speechless. She'd managed that a few times now and it never got boring. She relaxed into the arms that were around her waist, feeling them tighten as she did, and listened to the sound of Faith's hot and bothered breathing which was doing nothing to calm the excitement in her either, but she had more practise at not acting out every desire.
Faith might have been right with everything she had said about dancing, but it was that and more for her. She enjoyed the closeness as much as anything, the romantic element, the slow burn of anticipation that Faith was obviously too horny these days to appreciate.
"So if we both feel like this," Faith said slowly halfway through the song. "Why aren't we doing something about it together?"
"Because I want to wait…"
"And there ya go being all about you again. I thought it took two people to make a relationship."
"…and make it perfect!" Buffy finished in a tone that made it clear the interruption was not appreciated.
"The sex is already damn near perfect, B!"
"Not the sex, us! I don't want to just have sex with you. Either of us could do that with anyone. I want to have a relationship with you. You keep throwing that word at me tonight and do you even know what it really means? It's not just about jumping each others bones all the time. It means talking and sharing and laughing and dating and… and dancing, even if it makes you crazy."
"We've done all that tonight, right?" Faith asked. "I've proved I can do all that. So why are we still waiting?"
"Because these things take time," Buffy sighed. "At least if you do them right they do. I don't want just six months of good dates and great sex with you Faith; I want a forever of it. And right now I'm scared if we start rushing to get to the great parts and miss out all the basic in-between steps I'm gonna lose you. And I'd rather lose you now for going too slow than lose you six months down the line because we've done every position you can think of and you're bored with me…'cause by then I'll be all attached."
Faith pressed hard against her, arms squeezing her waist as she kissed the side of Buffy's head. "B, I've wanted you since you were in high school getting all puppy-eyed over that bastard Scott." She kissed the side of her head again and Buffy could feel her smiling. "Gonna be at least a year before I get bored."
Buffy drew back from her shoulder, trying to glare but too amused to pull it off. "Watch it! I'm not all that attached yet."
Again the songs changed, but the tempo didn't. Over Faith's shoulder Buffy could see why. Alex's cousin was tucking into a plate of party food and leaving the same love songs CD to play until he had finished.
Buffy loosened her arms around Faith's neck, wondering whether congratulating Faith on getting through a slow song with minimal complaint was too patronising to be considered funny when tensions were so high.
As she leaned back, Faith leaned forward and kissed her. It was a surprise, but not an unwelcome one considering the way she was feeling. She kissed back, lips curving slightly in pleasure at the softness of Faith's. God, she loved kissing her! As she pulled away to smile properly and suggest they go back to their table, Faith kissed her again, her lips parting slightly as they met Buffy's.
Buffy indulged her for ten seconds before pulling away again, more firmly this time. It wasn't that she couldn't do it all night, but for her it was all about the journey and Faith was obviously on a fast track to something else.
"Was that too brave?" Faith asked, her breathing even heavier than before as she nodded her head sideways in the general direction of the other costumed patrons.
"What?" Buffy looked around, saw a few customers staring at them and realised what was meant. "Oh, no I'm not worried about them."
"Then what's wrong?"
"Nothing…" Buffy started to explain.
"Good." Faith cut her off, already leaning in to kiss her again. As their lips touched this time Buffy leaned back as far as she could until Faith got the message. She looked down and took a deep breath before looking Buffy in the eye again. "What the hell, B?"
"You're a little early."
"What?"
"Unless you're planning on falling asleep right here right now you're too early for your goodnight kiss."
Faith stared at her for a few moments before saying, "Okay, well this can be my dance kiss and I'll have my goodnight kiss later."
Buffy eased herself further away. "This is a control thing again, isn't it?"
"It's just a kiss, Buffy."
"And it's just been two weeks and this is just our first date," Buffy said playfully. "I don't think you've earned kisses before bedtime yet."
"You don't?"
"Nope."
"You don't think this date earns me even one little kiss on the dance floor? Not even after I danced to not one, but two and half of your stupid slow songs with you."
"You just had one little kiss," Buffy pointed out. "In fact you had two and a half."
Faith grinned and ducked her head until she could lose it. "One little kiss with tongues."
"Nope, tongues are for bedtime." Faith didn't bother to hide her grin this time as Buffy blushed at her words. She corrected herself, "French kissing is for bedtimes. Other types of tongue use are for a time somewhere far in the future." Faith's grin fell away. "Not that far in future."
"Okay, so what have I earned? One big kiss, no tongues?" Faith wheedled. "A grope of your shiny blue tits?"
Buffy blushed, hard. "They're kind of cardboardy at the moment; I doubt you'd enjoy it.
"I think you're underestimating just how horny you've made me. They could be made of broken glass right now and I wouldn't turn 'em down."
Buffy gave her a wary look. "Okaaay. How about you get to eat as much party food as you can stomach, finish your giant jug of beer and then walk me home where – if you're lucky – there will be one big kiss with tongues before bedtime."
"And a grope of your sparkly blue tits," Faith said again and Buffy was sure it was just to see how hard she could blush.
"Maybe…" she allowed, leading Faith by the hand towards the table of food. "… but I doubt it."