"I don't know why everyone insisted I go to the hospital," the blonde slayer huffed as she unlocked the front door of the Revello Drive home.
Faith waited patiently for the Chosen One to open the door and followed in after her. She noisily removed her heavy boots and tossed them on the Welcome mat. "Uh, cause some evil bitch pumped you full of purple goo?" she deadpanned.
Buffy shrugged out of the dark-slayer's leather jacket and handed it back to the Boston girl with a shy smile of gratitude. The evening had turned surprisingly brisk and the brunette had insisted the small slayer wear her jacket on the walk from the hospital to her mother's house. "She did the same thing to you too though," the golden-haired slayer stubbornly pointed out.
Faith gave her partner an easy grin and hung the jacket up on the coat hooks in the Summers' front foyer. "Yeah, but I've always been tougher than you, sweet cheeks."
The blonde slayer looked cross at her sister-Slayer. "Is that so?" she stated, narrowing her hazel-green eyes.
"Uh huh," the Boston girl nodded with a smug smirk.
She took a step closer to the blonde woman. Her smirk widened into a dimpled grin when the smaller slayer didn't back up or slap her arms away when they carefully slipped around her lithe waist. The brunette flicked her eyes around the front of the Summers residence, making sure neither Buffy's mom nor her sister were around. She pulled the blonde closer and looked into the hazel-green eyes staring back.
Their timing had been a little off lately, constantly getting interrupted just when they were about to be intimate, but there was a fire smoldering beneath the surface that wasn't going to extinguish any time soon. And now that the golden-haired slayer had told her closest friends and Watcher about them, they only had to worry about the elder slayer's family.
When Buffy had confidently grasped the Boston woman's hand in the underground laboratory, Faith hadn't known what to expect. But she had certainly not anticipated the blonde girl revealing to Willow, Tara, and Giles that they were romantically involved.
As Faith gazed into her lover's expressive eyes, she recalled the blonde's words: "This may or may not come as a shock to you guys," the Chosen One had started, "but Faith and I…we care for each other. I know we've fought – a lot – in our past," she admitted with a slight cringe, "but everything that's happened these past few months has brought us closer together. I love you all like a family, and I want you to be happy for us."
Giles had looked exceedingly uncomfortable from his slayer's admission, although she had been kind enough not to go into graphic detail. He had swiftly removed the glasses from their perch on his nose, and had scrubbed the lenses furiously until he managed a sputtered word of congratulation.
Tara's immediate reaction was to give each slayer a tight hug. The blonde witch had eyeballed her girlfriend who had momentarily remained in the background. But finally, Willow too had stepped forward to congratulate the two slayers – Buffy with a hug and Faith with a crisp handshake.
Small hands at her hips shook the brunette from her recent memories. Buffy raised an eyebrow at Faith and pursed her lips. She shifted her eyes toward the staircase and licked her bottom lip. Her voice became uncharacteristically husky: "Care to take this upstairs?"
Faith opened her mouth to give her affirmative reply, but she was interrupted before she could voice even a single syllable.
"Buffy?" a voice from the back of the house called out. "Is that you?"
Both slayers turned quickly toward the back of the house where Joyce Summers was making her way toward the front door. Faith immediately released her hold on the smaller slayer's waist and subtly moved backwards away from her body. The Californian stuck out her bottom lip in a well-practiced pout.
When were they going to get a break?
Buffy's mother's face was slightly dusted with patches of flour and a dirty apron was wrapped around her waist. In her hands were a wooden spoon and a mixing bowl. She put the spoon in the ceramic bowl and pushed back her wild curls with her free hand, leaving a smudge of batter on her forehead.
"Mom?" Buffy questioned, observing her mother's frazzled appearance. "What are you doing back there? Starting your own Dunkin' Donuts?"
The eldest Summers woman looked momentarily confused, but then shook her head. "No," she remarked, "Dawn has to bring in treats to school tomorrow, and I totally forgot about it." She wiped at her forehead again and grimaced when she realized batter was now in her hair as well. "What are you two girls up to?"
The two slayers exchanged a wordless glance.
"We were just, uh," Buffy stammered, suddenly nervous, "going upstairs."
The bowl in the Buffy's mother's hands nearly dropped to the floor. Joyce looked suddenly flustered as well, and her eyes flickered down to her hands instead of the two slayers. "Oh, well, ahm…." She paused and cleared the frog from her throat. "Try to keep it down, okay?" Her voice slightly cracked. "Your sister is sleeping."
Buffy's face went bright red, nearly the same blush that had turned her mother's visage crimson as well. "Okay, Mom. We'll try," she muttered under her breath. She grabbed her lover's hand and dragged the brunette up the stairs that led to her bedroom.
The brunette poked the smaller woman when Mrs. Summers was out of earshot. "Is it just me," Faith mumbled to the blonde slayer as they climbed up the staircase together, "or does your mom know about us?"
The Californian nodded and grimaced. "She knows," she admitted. "I don't know how she knows. But mothers are apparently clairvoyant like that."
The slayers made their way up to the second floor. Faith paused just outside of Buffy's bedroom door. "And she's cool with it?" she asked, her voice and face full of concern.
The golden-haired slayer pulled on the taller girl's arm, dragging her into the bedroom. "Seems to be," she said with a shrug as she closed the door behind them.
"Maybe I shouldn't spend the night tonight," the brunette stated anxiously as she stood in the center of the Chosen One's bedroom.
Buffy's eyes went wide with alarm. "Why?" she demanded, her face stricken.
"Just, I ah," the Boston girl bumbled, "don't want your mom gettin' the wrong idea is all."
The blonde folded her arms across her chest and cocked her head. "And what wrong idea would she be getting?"
Faith tossed her arms in the air. "That we're up here practicin' makin' babies?" she hissed quietly.
"Last time I checked, Fai," Buffy snickered lowly, "you didn't have the right equipment for that."
"You know what I mean," the Boston girl grunted, not letting Buffy's attempt at humor distract her. "I don't want your mom thinkin' I'm like the horny boyfriend who's corrupting her little angel."
Buffy's half-smile slowly spread across her face, and her hazel-green eyes twinkled mischievously. "How about I do the corrupting then?"
Faith swallowed hard and took a step backwards.
"Annoying students and all their idiot questions," Maggie Walsh mumbled bitterly to herself as she exited the UC-Sunnydale campus grounds. The sun had set many hours ago, and the blonde woman was annoyed that it had taken so long for her workday to finally end. The college professor had been tied up with unexpected committee meetings in addition to students actually showing up to her office hours. Now she hastily made her way back to Lilith and her makeshift laboratory.
Her chunky heels clicked on the cement sidewalk and she grasped tightly to her leather messenger bag. Soon she would no longer need this paltry employment. Soon she would be independently wealthy, once she sold her first prototype to the highest bidder. The woman was anxious to return to her underground laboratory, hidden beneath the UC-Sunnydale campus grounds.
Tonight she would begin the cloning process on the blonde slayer.
Having a creation who looked like the brunette slayer had been rewarding, but it wouldn't be able to compare to having a minion with the face and form of Buffy Summers. The Original Slayer had been nothing but a bothersome pest. First, Riley's attachment to the blonde girl, and then her meddling with Faith Lehane and the Initiative's cloning project. But it would all be over soon for Buffy Summers.
Maggie Walsh deftly made her way through a hidden door and down a narrow set of stairs toward her secret facility. The blonde scientist hastily opened the heavy metal door to the lab.
"Lilith!" she chirped happily, pushing through the front entrance. "Mother's home!"
Maggie Walsh paused just inside the laboratory. Her eyes quickly scanned the room, immediately sensing that something was wrong. Lilith's chair was empty. And so was the hospital bed where Buffy Summers had been held captive. Otherwise, the room was just as she had left it.
The former military scientist felt the blood in her veins bubble with rage. Where had that annoying slayer gone? And where had she taken Lilith?
Maggie Walsh reached into her leather satchel and pulled out the black, metal weapon. She stared manically at the military issue handgun.
"I've had enough of that girl. Tonight," she whispered in a raspy voice, "I end Buffy Summers."
Faith stared anxiously as the blonde slayer's hands went to the bottom hem of her light tank top. Effortlessly, Buffy pulled the garment up her taunt stomach, past her breasts, and over her head. She dropped the cotton top on the carpeted floor and gave the taller slayer a shy smile.The Californian reached up to the back of her head, her fingers grasping the rubber band. She pulled the band free from her golden-locks and shook the ponytail out of her hair. Her blonde strands fell softly around her face, touching the tips of her lightly bronzed shoulders.
The Boston-born slayer unconsciously wet her full lips. "You're so beautiful," she murmured to the angel standing before her.
"You're just saying that 'cause you wanna get laid," the Californian lightly joked, slightly flustered by the taller woman's compliment.
Buffy had never truly thought of herself as 'beautiful.' Cute maybe, but never sexy or beautiful. Those were words that came to mind as she looked at her brunette lover, however. The younger slayer had always possessed an effortless and dangerous appeal.
Faith bit her bottom lip and slowly shook her head. "I've always thought you were the most perfect thing I'd ever seen, B," she admitted in a small voice.
Buffy gave her lover a lopsided grin. "I'm feeling kinda skanky from being a prisoner," she admitted quietly. "Do you, uh, want to take a shower with me?"
The dark-haired slayer felt her knees slightly give out.
Buffy grabbed a plush towel from its hanging location on the doorknob of her closet. "C'mon," she urged in a quiet voice.
Faith stood dumbstruck in the center of the room. The California slayer softly laughed and grabbed the younger woman's hot hand in her own. "Don't be getting shy on me now," she lightly joked.
"Me? Shy? Never," the brunette insisted, her voice cracking slightly on the syllables.
The Boston girl anxiously allowed Buffy to lead her down the short hallway towards the bathroom that Buffy and Dawn shared. The small blonde remained topless, only in her bra and jeans. The golden-haired woman pulled Faith into the bathroom and silently shut the door behind them. She gave the brunette girl a gentle shove towards the bathtub.
"Get the water the temperature you want it," the Chosen One instructed as she unsnapped the front button on her form-fitting jeans.
The brunette licked her lips, watching the smaller slayer unzip her jeans and start to wiggle them down her boyishly narrow hips.
"Faith," Buffy laughed quietly. "Not that I mind you watching me undress, but it's gonna be hard to shower without some water," she taunted the stunned girl.
"Oh uh, yeah," the Boston-born slayer mumbled, quickly averting her eyes away from the quickly disrobing blonde to focus on the bathroom faucet instead.
Buffy pulled her jeans off her slender legs and carefully folded them, placing the garment on the top of the toilet tank. Faith turned on the Hot and Cold faucets and felt the rushing water, manipulating the dials to find the perfect temperature. When she was satisfied, she pulled the handle and turned the shower function on.
The Boston woman glanced back at her lover just in time to see Buffy reach behind her back and unsnap her light pink bra. "Don't forget your own clothes too, Fai," the blonde purred lowly as she shrugged out of the bra straps, allowing the lacy garment to tumble down her front and onto the floor. "You're starting to look a little overdressed."
Faith momentarily forgot about the running water and her own clothes. She stood up from the side of the bathtub and stalked toward the Chosen One. Buffy didn't retreat, however, but instead gave her dark lover a challenging grin.
The Boston girl placed her hands on the elder woman's naked hipbones. The golden-haired slayer wore only white bikini briefs that hugged her slight curves and accentuated her bronzed skin. On anyone else they might look modest or mundane, but the brunette slayer had never seen anything sexier. Because they were on Buffy.
As if in a trance, the dark-haired slayer slid her hands across the elder woman's jutting hips, feeling the chiseled bones slice along the palms of her hands. Her fingers roamed to the blonde's backside, slipping beneath the cotton underwear so she could palm the Californian's pert backside, cupping the small, rounded mounds in her hands. The elder slayer's skin was soft and warm, yet wherever Faith touched, she created a series of goosebumps on the smaller woman.
Faith's fingers fluttered along the Chosen One's crack, her fingertips briefly brushing along the blonde's pouting lips from behind. Buffy quietly sighed. She pressed her forehead against the taller woman's chest, and bit her bottom lip so as to not alert her mother or sister that she and Faith were in the bathroom together.
Wordlessly, Faith spun the smaller woman around and pressed her chest into the shorter woman's back. Her hands glided down Buffy's naked sides, across her hipbones, and came together at the apex of the elder slayer's panty-covered sex.
Buffy's quiet, yet labored breath hitched in her throat when the Boston girl slid a single finger between her pussy lips, seeking out her small clit. The material of her cotton underwear dipped between her pouting lips and rubbed along the front of her sensitive bud.
Buffy arched her back, and slightly craned her neck and turned her head, so she could kiss the woman behind her. Their lips met in a soft, hesitant embrace, their pink tongues gently tangoing and brushing against each other. With her free hand, Faith cupped one of Buffy's naked breasts, palming its slight weight and flicking the hardening nipple with the tips of her fingers.
The Californian quietly groaned into her lover's mouth. Faith ended the lip-lock, but only to place open-mouthed kisses at the nape of Buffy's neck. Her lips were warm, but wet against the elder slayer's slightly salty skin.
Faith moved the crotch of the smaller woman's underwear to one side and slid her finger the length of Buffy's already wet slit. Her single digit slowly seesawed back and forth just within the Californian's outer lips.
"Gonna get a shower of another kind if you keep that up," the blonde breathed between her small gasps of appreciation.
Faith licked along the outside of Buffy's ear. "What makes you think I'd mind?" she stated in a gravelly voice.
With all her willpower, Buffy pulled herself away from the dangerous brunette. She placed her palms on the taller woman's upper chest and leaned in for a soft, lingering kiss. "New plan," she mumbled into her lover's mouth. "You go back to my room."
The Boston girl made a small noise of protest, before the smaller slayer silenced her with another heated kiss.
"Fai," the elder woman breathed, pulling away from the taller girl's lips. She batted her heavy eyelashes. "I really need a shower," she insisted. "And if you stay in here, I have a feeling we're gonna use up all the hot water before we even get wet."
Faith smirked and opened her mouth again, but found the golden-haired slayer's finger pressed against her lips. "Don't," the blonde muttered, still pressing her nearly naked form against the taller woman. "It's too easy a set-up."
The brunette girl sighed. "Fine, B," she grunted, clearly disappointed.
Buffy stood slightly on her tiptoes and stuck out her lower lip. "Aww, baby," she cooed, leaning into her dark lover. "You wanted to stay and shower with me?"
Faith gave the shorter woman an incredulous look. "Uh, I believe the expression is 'duh,'" she deadpanned.
"I'll be quick," the blonde promised with a lop-sided grin.
The dangerous brunette pulled the other woman closer to her once again. "So can I," she growled into her ear.
Buffy pulled away, her face slightly flushed. She bit her bottom lip. "But I don't want it quick," she admitted shyly.
The Boston girl's leer widened into a warm, genuine grin. "All right, Princess," she conceded. "But hurry back to your room. I'm about ready to pop."
The mad scientist rushed up the stairwell of the underground laboratory, clutching tightly to the military issue gun. She had been properly trained years ago as part of her military training, but in recent years had had no use for hand-to-hand combat. But she realized with a smug grin that she only needed to be a few feet from the blonde slayer to carry out her plan. Even she wouldn't be able to miss from that range.
Maggie Walsh tromped over to her vehicle and hastily started the engine.
The blonde slayer was predictable, the military woman mused as she sped down the nearly deserted Sunnydale streets. It was as if she never expected 'The Bad Guys' to track down her home. The Chosen One, no doubt, felt a false sense of security always returning to the Revello Drive residence after the battle had been won. And although Maggie Walsh had never been to the Summers' residence, it didn't take a computer hacker to look up her permanent mailing address in the UC-Sunnydale student directory.
The Revello Drive home was just a short drive from campus, and the blonde scientist found herself at the Summers' residence in hardly any time. Walsh pulled her dark SUV to a stop in front of the nondescript California home. She double-checked the address on the front of the house one last time, and opened the glove box in her vehicle. Inside, hidden beneath fast-food napkins, a state map, and her government ID was the gun.
She had never killed anyone before. She had certainly had a hand in the death of many non-humans in the past few months, but she had justified that it was for the good of Science. For the good of Mankind. Killing Buffy Summers, however, would be for the good of Herself.
Under the cover of darkness, Professor Walsh gripped the gun and exited the vehicle.
TBC