Chapter 20

Faith strolled downstairs, stretching her arms above her body as she went. After Buffy's mini-breakdown, the two slayers had gone to bed for the night. Much to the brunette's disappointment, Buffy had insisted on sleeping in her own room that night – it was the first night since their arrival that the slayers had slept apart.

Faith herself had slept soundly and without interruption, and she'd woken up with full feeling in all her limbs for the first time in a while. However, if she thought about it, she'd rather have woken up with a numb arm than miss the opportunity to be close to Buffy.

Over the past few days, Buffy had shown uncharacteristic closeness with her sister-Slayer, ranging the gamut of cuddling to kissing. Faith knew that part of the blonde's recent show of emotions was due to looking for the familiar in an unfamiliar environment and Buffy's need to avoid Angel. She hated to hope that what was developing between them was turning into something more, however.

The sounds of clattering pots and pans brought her out of her thoughts and into the kitchen where she found Buffy at the range top cooking what could only be described as a breakfast omelet. Although, beyond eggs, Faith wasn't sure of what other ingredients the Chosen One had used – the pantry and fridge's contents seemed to be scattered around the kitchen countertops.

Faith stood in the entranceway and watched Buffy for a moment. The other slayer seemed oblivious to her presence. Buffy stood at the stovetop, tapping one foot, humming a wordless tune, and stirring a slurry of eggs and other (hopefully) edible ingredients in a skillet.

"Morning?" Faith finally called out.

The blonde slightly jumped and turned to greet the other woman.

"Morning," Buffy replied. Her face flushed an attractive pink.

"What's with the Betty Crocker-ness?" Faith asked, looking at the disaster that had once been a clean kitchen. She inwardly groaned. Mrs. Cribbage was not going to be happy if she saw her kitchen in such chaos.

"I'm making breakfast for us," Buffy chirped. She turned off the top burners and hefted the large skillet towards the island where two plates waited. She divided the omelet in half and it slid out of the pan onto the plates. "I promised you a reward for being…I don't know…decent to me."

"Decent." Faith rolled the syllables around on her tongue. The blonde had an interesting talent for words.

Buffy pushed back some stray blonde strands that had fallen across her forehead. "You know what I mean," she blustered.

Faith looked a little dumbfounded. "So this is my reward for good behavior? An omelet?"

Buffy's lower lip stuck out as she regarded the two plates of steaming eggs. "What? I think it's sweet."

Faith held up her hands in retreat. "Don't get me wrong... it is sweet. But I thought your cooking was something usually reserved for getting information out of a bad guy."

Buffy frowned. "Whatever. My cooking's not that bad. I don't know how these rumors get started."

Faith raised an eyebrow. "Uh huh," she said, unconvinced.

She picked up a fork off the countertop and stared at the food as though expecting it to fight back. She stabbed a chunk of eggs and brought the mouthful to her lips. She looked at Buffy's expectant face. Finally, not wanting to disappoint the other slayer, she took a bite.

"It's…flavorful…" she observed, chewing slowly.

Buffy regarded Faith. "You hate it," she stated sourly. She reached to grab the plate out from in front of the brunette, but Faith managed to snatch up the plate and pull away.

Faith swallowed her first bite. "Stop it, B," she ordered. "I'm hungry." She spooned up another mouthful and moved so that the kitchen island was between her and the other slayer.

Buffy growled and grabbed for the plate across the island. Faith pulled the plate out of Buffy's reach again. "Give it to me or…"

"Or what?" Faith countered playfully. "You'll cut me off from sex?"

Buffy made a face, but stopped reaching for the plate. "Or, I'll fly back to San Francisco, first thing tomorrow morning."

Faith stopped eating. "You're bluffing," she said around her mouthful of eggs.

Buffy stubbornly folded her arms across her chest. "Try me," she challenged. "They probably need me back home anyway. And I should also start looking for another job."

Faith frowned and handed the plate to Buffy across the counter. "You don't play nice, B," she grumbled.

"Yeah... well, you act like you're five and don't cooperate."

Buffy tossed the remaining food from both their plates into a garbage can and stalked over to the kitchen sink. Her body language was unreadable and with her back to the brunette, her facial expression was hidden from view.

Faith crept closer to the blonde. "Are you mad at me?"

Buffy turned on the kitchen sink and began to roughly clean the plates. "No."

"You sure about that?" Faith stood directly behind the blonde.

Buffy sighed. "I'm honestly not mad at you." She continued to furiously scrub at the plate.

Faith moved closer and wrapped her arms around Buffy to take the plate away in one hand and the sponge in the other. "I think it's clean now," she murmured.

"Oh." Buffy turned her head slightly. "Sorry."

"It's okay," Faith reassured her. "Thankfully this set doesn't have a pattern on it or I'd be buying a replacement before Mrs. Cribbage realized it was gone."

Buffy's shoulders drooped. "I really wanted to have this go... right."

Faith rested her chin on Buffy's shoulder. "It's the thought that counts, right?"

Buffy huffed, but didn't move away. "Yea , well... thoughts don't exactly fill our bellies."

Faith laughed and stayed pressed against Buffy's back. "C'mon, Pouty McGee. How about we move this show over to the fridge, and we'll cook something together?"

Buffy nodded and allowed Faith to waddle their enjoined bodies over to the fridge.

"Why are you being like this?"

Faith began removing food stuffs from the fridge, and Buffy finally moved away to allow her more room. "When my girlfriend gets all frowny on me, I make it my mission to make her happy," the brunette answered easily. "So, are you my girlfriend?"

Buffy eyeballed Faith, not sure what she was really asking. "Since I'm Kate..." she hesitated as if worried she was walking into a trap, "I must be..."

"Then let me do my job, Twinkie." Faith winked at the blonde and continued to grab food out of the fridge.

"Any word on when the Great Blonde One is coming back?" Kennedy called from the kitchen. She'd just returned from patrol and was now foraging for food in the kitchen cabinets. "Not that I mind being in charge of the West Coast cells," she noted, "I'm just wondering when I gotta go back to being a regular slayer."

Willow didn't look up from her magazine. "I haven't heard from her," she remarked. "I think Dawn talked to her though."

"Damn it," Kennedy cursed loudly.

Willow lifted her gaze to check on the slayer. "What's wrong?"

Kennedy's face showed her displeasure. "I sliced my damn finger again. I swore I put this knife away," she complained. "But it seems like every other day I manage to cut myself on it."

Willow rose from the couch and padded over to where Kennedy stood near the kitchen sink. The dark-haired slayer held a paper towel over her cut finger, keeping pressure against the fresh wound. The blood looked horrifyingly vibrant against the white absorbing material.

Willow kissed Kennedy's temple. "Silly, slayer," she murmured. "So good at slaying, so bad at cooking. Stay there," she commanded. "I'll get some supplies to clean you up."

The redhead hurried down the hallway toward the single bathroom. She stooped to retrieve the First Aid kit she kept under the sink. She snapped it open and picked out a few pre-cut pieces of gauze and a bandage large enough to handle Kennedy's cut. She lifted another level, revealing a false bottom to the kit. Hidden inside were used tissues, napkins, cotton balls, and gauze strips. Each was caked with dark, dried blood. Kennedy's blood.

Willow worried her bottom lip. In just a few more days she'd have enough blood to test out her spell. Just a few more days. Just a few more cuts.

Buffy raised an eyebrow at the small, wrapped present in her hand. "What's this?"

Faith grinned. "Oh, it's nothing," she said off-handedly. "Just something I figured you'd like."

Buffy eyeballed the other girl a moment later before carefully unwrapping the prism-shaped box. Peeling away the dark, metallic paper revealed a black mat box. The blonde's throat constricted. It looked like a jewelry box. She carefully opened the lid.

"It's…it's that necklace we looked at." Her hazel-green eyes snapped up to Faith's face. "The one I told you not to buy for me."

"And you shouldn't tell me how to spend my money. You're not the boss of me.

"What happened to weaning me off of shopping?" Buffy countered.

"Exactly, we're weaning," Faith stated matter-of-factly. "We're not going cold-turkey."

Buffy looked back down at the sapphire-studded necklace. She lightly touched her fingers against the jewels. "Faith, this was expensive," she said in a voice little more than a whisper. "I saw the price tag."

"Don't worry about the price. I can handle it."

Buffy shook her head. "I can't take it. You need to return it."

Faith's smile faltered. "I said, don't worry about it."

Buffy chewed on her bottom lip, considering. "Well… I can't even wear it. If you haven't noticed, I'm sporting mainly an assortment of t-shirts and jeans these days."

"Nothing wrong with that," the brunette asserted. "You can dress up your skinny jeans."

Buffy made a face. "I may have lost my closet, but I haven't lost my fashion sense," she opined. "A fancy necklace like this won't go with any of my outfits."

Faith grinned, a hint of mischief dancing at the corners of her lips. "I figured that much… sooo… here." She pulled a larger package out from behind a potted plant.

Buffy groaned. "Oh God. And what's this?"

"Me actually reinforcing your shopping addiction," Faith smirked.

Buffy shook her head in disbelief. "Why would you do that?"

Faith gave the other slayer a sheepish, almost embarrassed smile. "Just hoping you'd stay in rehab longer."

Buffy returned the shy smile and then tore into the larger wrapped box without hesitation. Inside was a gown that made her prom dress look

"Wow," Buffy murmured, petting the silky red material. "This is fancier than anything I've ever owned."

Faith hovered by the blonde's elbow. "Does that mean you like it?"

Buffy looked up at the other slayer. "Well yea, who wouldn't?"

Faith beamed triumphantly. "Good. Now all you need is a pair of heels and a nice bag to go with it."

Buffy's eyebrows crept to her hairline. "Please don't go pulling those out of another plant."

Faith chuckled. "I'm not Princess, don't worry."

"Oh." Buffy's lower lip made an appearance.

"Unless you want me to? We can go do that now?"

Buffy shook her head. "No, no." She stared back down at the dress and necklace that looked as though they belonged on a Red Carpet. "You've done too much already. I don't know how to thank you."

"Use it," Faith said with a nod. "That's enough thanks for me."

"You do realize that I could have paid off two months of rent with all this, right?" Buffy pointed out pragmatically.

Faith laughed. "I'm fully aware, Cupcake. Just don't pawn it."

Buffy looked back down at the necklace. "I won't," she promised. She bit her bottom lip. "Should we put it to use tonight?"

Although Faith was the one dishing out the surprises, she wasn't prepared for the other slayer's suggestion. The shock was apparent on her face.

"Uh…."

Buffy grinned, relieved to have the upperhand once again. "Stop Uh-ing and go get ready."

"But –."

"Faith, I'm many things," Buffy interrupted curtly, "but patience with wearing this is not one of them at the moment."

A short hour later, Buffy floated down the staircase, her hand gliding along the polished handrail. She turned a corner of the dramatic stairs that reminded her a little of Hogwarts. Her heart sank in disappointment, however, when she didn't see Faith waiting expectantly at the bottom of the stairs.

Buffy's lower lip popped out and she slightly stomped down the remaining stairs to reach the ground level.

The blonde's shoulder's slumped forward. Where was she? Didn't Faith know she was supposed to be waiting at the bottom step waiting for Buffy's grand entrance to take her breath away?

The sound of someone clearing their throat filtered down from above and roused Buffy from her melancholy lament. Buffy looked up in the direction of the noise and her hazel-green eyes widened and her jaw went slack. Standing at the top of the staircase stood Faith.

In a dress.

A small smirk found its way onto the dark slayer's generous lips, and she began to descend the staircase. Buffy's eyes bulged as the Boston woman carefully tread down the stairs. Her black sheer dress had a dangerous slit along her right thigh. With each step down, Faith rewarded the blonde slayer with an eyeful of toned leg from ankle to upper thigh.

The dress's sleeveless bodice fit snug around Faith's torso coming up to a keyhole of cleavage and a halter strap secured behind the Boston woman's neck. The skirt was slightly looser, but still fitted, leaving just enough room for the younger slayer to make it down the tall staircase. As Faith stepped closer, Buffy noted the light application of make-up and the pleasant way her barely tamed dark waves framed her face.

When Faith came to the bottom step, Buffy was also acutely aware of how much taller the other woman stood. She towered at least half a foot above Buffy's barefooted stature.

"You're tall."

Buffy mentally slapped her forehead. Smooth, Summers. At least it hadn't been a series of disconnected grunts: Fire bright, Faith pretty.

"I'm wearing heels," the brunette unnecessarily pointed out. Faith slipped out of her spiked stilettos and returned to her regular height. "Why are you barefoot?" she asked, noticing the smaller woman's feet for the first time.

Buffy shook her head, pulling her gaze from the movement of Faith's breasts. "Nothing matched."

Faith laughed. "Only you, Summers," she clucked.

Buffy's staring didn't go unnoticed by the brunette. Faith was highly aware of Buffy's eyes still trained on her body. It wasn't an unpleasant or foreign feeling – she was used to being the center of attention. She just wasn't as used to those eyes belonging to Buffy.

"Don't look so surprised, cutie," Faith remarked. "You're not the only one who looks good in a dress."

"No, it's not that," Buffy protested, shaking her head. "I never thought you'd look bad in a dress. I just didn't think I'd see you in one again."

"Again?" Faith's face revealed her confusion. "When have you ever seen me in one of these get-ups?"

"Homecoming."

Faith snapped her fingers, the memory coming back. "Good call, B. I'd forgotten about that."

Buffy shrugged. "It was memorable."

"I'm not sure if that's a compliment or not, but how about we go to dinner?"

Buffy stayed glued to her spot, rather than following the dazzling brunette.

Faith turned and paused. "What's wrong? Not hungry?"

"I don't have shoes."

Faith bit back a smile, not wanting Buffy to think she was laughing at her. "Don't worry your pretty little head, B," she winked playfully at the blonde. "Where we're going, we won't need 'em."

Buffy sat at the end of a long, formal table. The room was dimly lit with tall taper candles down the center of the sprawling, rectangular table and gently glowing wall sconces. Light music played in the background from an unknown source, but she wouldn't have been surprised if Faith had hired a band for the evening.

Buffy sat anxiously at her end of the table, playing with the fringed tablecloth. She didn't know how to react to Faith's behavior that day – first buying her the necklace and the dress, and now a white table-clothed dinner. It was as if the dark slayer were wooing her, courting her affections.

She was flattered and touched that Faith was putting in so much effort, but what did it all mean? Why was she doing it and what did she expect in return? The latter question made Buffy the most uneasy.

Faith walked in from the direction of the kitchen holding a large tray with two steaming plates. She lowered the tray and placed a plate in front of Buffy and the other at an adjacent seat. "Bon appetite," she grinned.

Buffy covered her mouth and giggled. "Mrs. Cribbage made us mac and cheese?"

A small frown marred Faith's beautiful face. "No. I made us mac and cheese."

Buffy grinned. "Well in that case, thank you for going to the trouble."

Faith smirked and sat down next to the blonde and unrolled her silverware from the cloth napkin. She set the dark red napkin on her lap. "I know you're teasing me, but I'm going to take that as a genuine thank you."

Faith raised her eyebrows and waited for Buffy's approval. "Good?"

Buffy nodded. "Mmhmm," she agreed around her mouthful of noodles.

Faith grinned and began to attack her food with her fork.

Buffy moved the food around on her plate. "This is nicer than any date I've ever been on," she noted.

"Maybe you just haven't been on a date with the right person before," Faith stated boldly.

Buffy placed a soft hand on top of Faith's on the tabletop. "Faith. You've been really great about everything," she murmured. It was hard not to get pulled into the other slayer's dark eyes. She found so much desire, warmth, and comfort located there.

Buffy leaned forward slightly. She could see Faith swallow hard, the tendons in her neck working.

A voice cleared. Both women hastily pulled away from each other. Standing in the archway that separated the formal dining room from the foyer was Angel. "I'm going out," he said darkly. He looked disapprovingly between the two women.

Faith waved a hand in Angel's direction. "Ok. Have fun, Big Guy. I'll see ya later."

The blonde pushed her chair back from the table. The chair legs scraped noisily along the floor. "I'll, uhm, I'll clean up."

"You don't have to do that," Faith said softly, sensing Buffy's urge to bolt. "The dirty dishes will still be there in the morning."

Buffy stood up and grabbed Faith's plate along with her own. Her face was unreadable in the dim, candle-lit room. "No…no, I really do," she mumbled.

With Buffy loudly cleaning dishes in the kitchen, Faith felt awkward and uneasy simply waiting in the dining room. She stood abruptly from the long table and thought about joining the blonde in the other room. But sensing that Buffy had volunteered to clean up because of the need to be alone with her thoughts rather than any altruistic motives, Faith left the other woman and went into the library instead.

She made a fire in the large stone fireplace. The mansion wasn't cold, but at least it gave her something to do while she waited for Buffy to reappear from the other side of the house.

On Giles' desk sat a pile of unopened mail that Faith hadn't bothered with since returning from the States.

"You almost done in there?" she called out to Buffy.

"Not quite. You're a messy cook," Buffy's raised voice responded.

On top of the pile of unopened mail was a nondescript manila envelope. She grabbed the letter opener off Giles' desk and slid it through the top closing flap. Inside, she found a thin stack of color photos. She narrowed her eyes as she inspected the subject of the photography; it took a moment for her brain to realize what the photos were.

A quiet gasp fell from her lips when she realized what had happened. The photos fell from her fingers and fluttered to the floor.

Buffy walks in and says something.

She stooped and picked up one of the fallen photos. "What's this?" she innocently chirped.

Her hazel-green eyes scrutinized the photograph, and after a moment of inspection, her body stiffened. "Faith?" she warily started, "Why are there pictures of me tied up and looking terrified?"

She rifled through the other photos as if needing conformation. "This never happened to me." The pitch of her voice rose. "Or at least I don't remember it."

Faith sat down heavily in an overstuffed chair and her head fell into her hands. "That's because it didn't happen to you, B," she murmured, staring at the floor. "It happened to Kate."

Buffy grabbed the plain envelope and inspected it for a return address or some other clue. The front of the envelope was unmarked beyond the address of Giles' country estate. She looked inside and pulled out a single yellow Post-It note that must have fallen off the stack of photographs. In carefully calligraphy were the words: 'Let's make a trade."

Buffy hazarded a glance at her distraught sister-Slayer who remained seated with her head buried in helpless hands.

A loud, racking sob tumbled from Faith's lips. "Someone's kidnapped Kate."

TBC