Title: Slayer Pride
Series: Just Good Friends
Dedication: To 'my' Karen for just existing and making these ideas happen without saying a word, you're my star. Also to Sway for her feedback that is longer than anything I've ever written.
Notes: Someone asked me if I'd do a sequel to Surrender Your Heart, and I really didn't want to. I thought I'd said all the angst I had to say, but this came to me while queuing at McD's. I know, I know, I get my ideas in the weirdest places. As always, Faith's POV. Ooh, another thing, I'm from the UK, so I'm going by the Pride Marches I've been on, if something strikes you as odd or different, it's just that cultural diff thing!
Part 1
I slam the washer door and turn to B. "One day you're gonna have to learn to do your own laundry."
She looks up from the ironing board. "And one day you're gonna have to learn to iron. Until then, this arrangement works just fine for me."
"I still think you're conning me." I tell her. "I only own two shirts that need ironing, however, I do all your laundry."
"Do I or do I not buy you dinner every week?" She responds.
"Yeah. I guess that makes us even." I grin. We have this argument every week, laundry day wouldn't be complete without it.
I switch the kettle on, and hop up on my kitchen counter to peruse the mail that's been accumulating for a couple of days.
I open the most interesting looking one, (read: the only one not in a window envelope signifying yet another bill).
"Anything interesting?" B asks. "Hanger."
I pass her a clothes hanger. "Nah, just a receipt."
"They post them now? Wow, I usually just wait for the cashier to hand it over."
I give her my patented you're-not-funny look. "Nah, from a motel. Pride's coming up and I decided I'd stay over, don't wanna face the crush on the train at night."
"Gay Pride?"
"Nah, Straight Pride. Decided to switch teams."
She gives me her patented you're-not-funny look which is kinda cute. "Did you book a double or a single room?"
"Double, maybe I'll get lucky. I mean, dyke-central, I gotta pull, right?"
"I can guarantee there will be plenty of women wanting to take you to bed, Fai. But… would bringing a straight girl along ruin your chances? Hanger."
I pass her another hanger from the stack next to me. "Depends who the straight girl is, B." I say with a grin.
"The straight girl is me."
"Are you sure you wanna come? I mean, you don't have to, I've been going alone for awhile. I'll be ok, you don't need to worry about me."
"Faith." She looks me in the eye. "First of all, as your best friend it's my god-given right to worry about you when I damn well want, so if I want to, I will. Second, yes, I do want to go, as long as you want me to go."
"I want you to, B. You know that, it's just… you know… gay pride."
"You're gay. I'm proud of you. Does that count?"
I find myself bouncing over to her to hug her. I don't think I could love this girl any more if she was gay.
*~*~*~*~*
We board the train, B insisted on paying since I paid for the room overnight. It looks like it's gonna be a great day for the march, nice and hot, but not so hot that people will be fainting left, right and centre on the march.
We grab some seats and B lets me have the window seat. I find out this is because she wants to slump against me and catch some z's. I guess I'm more comfortable to lean against than the window. B loops her legs over the arm of the seat and wriggles a little to get comfortable.
I sip my coffee slowly, waiting for it to cool. B also had to buy that for me. Not cos I'm lacking in money, but when faced with a nine foot list of various different coffees I was stumped. I mean, I make coffee, one spoon of instant granules, two spoons of sugar and some hot water. How many different ways can you do that?
Buffy however marched straight up to the counter and recited an impressive list of nonsense, slapped some money down and handed me a foamy cinnamon smelling cup of dark liquid. I'm not sure what it is, but it sure doesn't taste like coffee. What's with the Starbucks trend?
B wriggles again and jabs me in the ribs with her shoulder bone. "Watch it, Summers." I caution. "Or I'll spill this gook over you."
"Bite me, Winter." She responds dozily.
"Where?"
She holds up her arm. "Try not to leave a bruise."
"Maybe later." I tell her.
"'Kay."
B dozes for the entire journey. Occasionally I have to wake her up to get her to move her legs out of the way so people can move along the carriage. Poor B. She goes to work early all week, slays by night, and then I drag her out of bed at the crack of dawn on a Saturday to go to Gay Pride.
She's a PE teacher. It seemed the most fitting thing she could do. She needed the money after her Mom died so the Watchers Council sped up her training and produced various documents so she could teach. I pity the kids she teaches. Self defence is her best class.
The Watchers Council also pressurised Sunnydale High to make self defence a mandatory lesson on top of Phys Ed. Sunny D were surprisingly receptive to the idea. It's probably a good idea to teach kids to defend themselves when sitting atop of a Hellmouth.
Me? I work in an office surprisingly. Hence I finally own a couple of shirts. That's for Thursday when the boss is in, otherwise we all pitch up looking like we just crawled out of a hedge… which is sometimes true if it's a big night slaying-wise.
The closer we get, the more we outnumber the straights on the train.
I see a couple sitting across from us, they smile at me. I realise I'm twisting B's hair again. It's second nature for me. B's around, I play with her hair. I guess me and B look like a perfect couple.
Sometimes I think what me and B have is a little too perfect for coupledom though. I mean, look how good we are together. We don't fight, not each other anyway. We agree on… well, not much, but we don't argue about the differences. We have fun, we're relaxed together. We always eat out on a Wednesday after I do her laundry and she does my ironing.
While what we have is wonderful and stable and amazing… it's fragile. I mean, we cross the boundaries of friendship sometimes I think. Look at the way I play with her hair, or the way she buys me gifts for no reason. Or how about that line in the card, "I tried to get you the world, but I couldn't afford it. Do you mind if I do it piece by piece?". Is that just a friend thing?
Probably not. But she's straight. We're both very clear on that.
So what are we?
Too scared to have a real relationship, I guess.
*~*~*~*~*
I jab B in the ribs and tell her we're here. She smiles dozily and gets up slowly. I take her hand and lead her out of the station. For once we not the only girls holding hands. There's millions of queer couples here. Except B and I aren't a couple.
I notice quite a few girls giving her the eye. I have to admit she looks great, she's just wearing the same as me, a pair of shorts with a bikini on underneath, she's got a shirt tied around her waist.
Except, B's got that cute preppy look, her and her pastel obsession, whereas I'm wearing jean cutoffs and my bikini is black. And also B's wearing some clompy sandals with plastic daisies on the straps, I'm wearing trainers.
We're wearing essentially the same and still we're as different as night and day.
"What now?" B asks, looking around excitedly.
"Ditch our stuff at the hotel, then join the parade." I tell her. "C'mon Summers."
We dump our bags and collect our key for the room and get back to where everyone's waiting for the parade to start.
"I've never seen so many Spice Girls in once place before." B whispers to me self consciously.
"Oh check it out, Britney Spears. Millions of 'em."
B points to a float. "Pink Ladies, from Grease."
"Oh, yeah, they're here every year."
"Can we help carry the flag?" She asks.
I grin widely, I was hoping she'd say that. "You wanna be on the red or the purple side?"
"Purple."
I grin again and lead her through the crowd.
I bring one hand up to shoulder level to carry the flag, the other hand I stick out behind me. Before I even look at her, B takes my free hand.
We end up walking behind a guy who runs the Rainbow Helpline. A line for gays to discuss their problems. He's funny, every so often he'll make the most amazingly bitch comment he makes Cordy look like an amateur. He also knows the people who made the flag. It's a mile long and took a year to make. I gotta say, I'm impressed.
By the time we finish the march I'm dead. Screw beating up demons, walking five miles with one hand at shoulder level keeping a flag taut, and the other hand twisted behind you so you can hold your best friends' hand will kill you every time.
I collapse in an unladylike heap on the grass in the park while B goes to get drinks for us.
I see a couple of girls checking B out. I close my eyes and try to turn my brain off. That kind of thing screws with my mind. I mean, she's straight so she wouldn't… but I can't help imagine one day B announces she's gay, but not for me. Like I said earlier, we're too good together. I don't know what's worse, B not being gay and being my forever unrequited love, or B being gay but not wanting me.
"Thinkin' deep thoughts?" B asks, appearing out of nowhere. She straddles my lap and hands me a bottle of beer. I'm surprised to see she's got a beer for herself.
I take it and clink bottles with her. "Cheers m'dears and here's to queers."
She giggles and clinks again. "So what were you thinking about?"
I don't want to get into my thoughts right now, so I grin. "I was just wondering if this big blonde lummox was gonna plonk her enormous ass on me when she got back with my drink. And what I would do if she did." I tip her off my body and she spills most of her drink, I think that might have been intentional, my B don't like beer.
"You bully!" She pouts and pours some more beer on my stomach. "And I don't have an enormous ass."
"B!" I yell loudly, that beer was cold. "You wench! You got me wet!"
"Sticky tacky?" She questions with raised eyebrows.
Now that's a private joke, but you probably get the jist of what she's asking. "B!" I can't believe it! She made me blush!
"I can't believe it! The big-bad-nothing-shocks-me Faith Winter is blushing!" She yells loudly.
I ditch the idea of drinking my beer and slosh it all over her. She ducks but I manage to get her with most of it. The rest goes over the poofs that made the bad mistake of sitting too close to me and B.
"Sorry!" I yell to them, getting to me feet to tackle B to the ground. I grab her round the waist and we hit the ground in a jumble of limbs.
I get up quickly. "That's what you get for –"
"Making you blush?"
"You did not make me blush." I tell her sternly.
"You did so!"
"Did not!"
"Did so!"
"Did not!"
"Did so!"
"Did not!"
"Did so!"
One of the poofs that I showered in beer shouts over, "You make a beautiful couple!"
B and I grin sheepishly at him and stop our childish fight.
"Thanks!" B shouts back.
B and I settle back down to catch some rays. She lays her head on my stomach. It feels kinda icky, all sticky from the beer and it's really too hot for B's hair as well but I make no effort to move her.
You make a beautiful couple echoes in my head as I stroke her hair.