Title: Dinner Date

Notes: Yet another piece of angst, this one generated by someone feedbacking me for something that never happened in the fic in they were talking about.

     I fling the card down in front of her nonchalantly.

     "What's this?"  She asks, looking up from the paper.

     "Just read it."  I tell her pouring coffee for the both of us.  It's my turn to make breakfast today.  We do this every Tuesday, we both start late… so breakfast.

     "It's an invite to your work Christmas party."  She deduces.

     "Read the last line.  In fact, read it all."  I get B's milk out of the microwave.  God knows why, but that girl has to have warmed milk in her coffee.

     "'Dear Faith, you are cordially invited… blah, blah, blah… bring your partner… blah… dinner… blah… formal wear.'  So?"

     "I don't have the two major items on that invite, a partner and formal wear."  I snap.  I'm not a morning person in the best of circumstances, but last night B and I dusted eighteen vampires and a… krkl… a… krkla… an unpronounceable demon.  We got three hours sleep.  I feel like scum.

     "Are you asking me – in your usual direct way," she pauses to roll her eyes at me, "to go with you?"

     "And shopping."  I reply, buttering toast madly.  "Free meal in it for you."

     "Ok… and Faith, what did the toast ever do to you?"

     I look down and notice that the toast is now in about a million pieces.  I feel like crying.  B leads me to the table, makes me sit down, and starts breakfast again.

     I can't believe I'm shopping for dresses.  The staff took one look at me in my leather pants, and they can't believe it either. 

     B is, naturally, in her element.  She holds a dress against herself.  "How about this?"

     "It's pink."  I reply, barely looking.

     "Not for you, for me.  Don't worry, they stock an extensive range of black."

     I shoot her the finger and a patronising grin and she grabs an armful of clothes and heads for the dressing room.

     I wander round the shop hesitantly.  I don't do shopping for dresses.  Damn formal wear.  Who's stupid poxy idea was it to have a formal dinner for Christmas?  Well, the boss, obviously.  He's rich and loves to show it off, but everyone who works for him is the same as me, just about making enough money to pay the rent and bills without slipping into the minus numbers with the bank.

     I'm wandering around, lost in my thoughts when I realise I'm standing in front of the most perfect outfit in the world.  Now, the trick is, not to let B see before the big night.

*~*~*~*

     "You ready?"  I call through the door.  B and I both wanted to surprise each other with our final ensemble, so I got changed in Dawn's room.  Now I'm standing in the hallway, wondering if I look like the biggest idiot known to mankind.

     "Just a minute."

     "You said that half an hour ago!"

     "Well, if you've waited half an hour, what's one more minute in the grand scheme of things?"

     I mutter a few curses under my breath.

     "I heard that.  Slayer hearing!"

     I mutter louder.

     Finally the door opens and she's just about the most beautiful thing I've ever seen.  She's wearing a pale blue satin dress that reaches the floor, with a very sexy split up one side, but it's B's kind of sexy.  I aim for sexy and get trailer trash, B aims for sexy and gets glamour.  I notice she's wearing the necklace and earrings I bought her for her birthday.

     "So how do I look?"

     I wince and step back to get a better look, shaking my head regretfully.

     Her face falls a little.  "What?  What's wrong?"

     "Something missing."  I reply, studying her hands.  "Ah!  I've got it."  I reach into the pocket of my jacket.  "This might finish the effect."  I bring out a small velvet box.  "Don't get too excited, it's your Christmas present."

     She smiles deeply.  "You look great in a tux.  I don't know why I'm surprised that you're wearing one, but I am.  Then again, that's your trademark, surprising me."

     "And playing with your hair."  I remind her.

     "That too."  She looks me up and down.  "But again, there's something missing on you as well."

     "Can't be."  I reply with a grin.  "I'm fully dressed.  Skimpy black lace undies and all."

     She quirks an eyebrow at me.  "You're wearing underwear?  I thought you stopped that."

     "Yeah, well, special occasion, brand new undies.  Wanna see?"

     "Believe it or not, I've seen lace panties before.  Just stay there and shut up."  She walks carefully back into her room, damn those heels are high.  She reaches into one of her drawers and brings out a box, much the same as the one I'm holding.  She then reaches into another one of her drawers and pulls out a scrap of black lace and holds it aloft.

     "Are you panties as skimpy as these?"  She asks with a wicked grin.

     "Well, if you're that interested…"  I mock undoing my pants.

     "Ok, stop!"  She laughs.  "Presents."

     We exchange the boxes we're holding and open them together.

     I bought B a white gold ring with a stone the same blue as the earrings and necklace I gave her.  And what do you know, she's given me the same ring, except this one has a red stone.

     "Who says we're so different after all?"  I say.  "Thank you."

     "It's your birthstone."  She explains.  "A ruby."

     "Blue just looks good on you."  I reply.

     I'm pleased to notice that she puts it on her engagement finger.  It saddens me too.  Sometimes the sweetest things she does breaks my heart.

     B takes my ring out of the box and slides it onto my engagement finger.  I feel like crying, but I don't know if it's from happiness or sadness.

     Sometimes I don't get it.  I just don't understand how we can be so good together and not be together.  It's just not fair.  I love B, and she loves me.  But she's not in love with me.

     I've kissed guys before, just out of idle curiosity and I wonder if B ever has idle curiosity.  Then I think that I don't want B to kiss me.  You see, if B ever kissed me, I'd want it to mean… well, you know.  Love.  There I said it.  Love.  And if all this stuff she does, like buying me a star, putting a ring from me on her engagement finger, all that stuff, if that hurts, maybe a kiss would break my heart.

     "Taxi's here."  She says, breaking my reverie.

*~*~*~*

     "So," she begins as we sit in the taxi.  "I'm here as your partner.  How partnery do you want me to be?"

     "B, how many times has Willow asked if you're dating me?"  I reply, trying to be flip, but I'm aching.  I don't know why, but recently the ache that's always been there is beginning to get to me more and more.

     "Ooh, thirteen.  She asked me again on Tuesday."

     "I think we've got it covered then."

     She loops her arm through mine and rests her head on my shoulder.  "I'm just worried you'll get into trouble for bringing your best friend, not your partner."

     I smile at her.  "There's a picture of you on my desk at work, B.  I think they'll believe I'm in love with you."  They should do, since I am.

     She looks up at me and smiles gently.  I think she heard what I was thinking.

     The dinner is a nightmare.  First off, when B and I arrived, we had to have pictures taken by a professional.  Ten minutes of personal hell.  B and I being prodded and dragged into "flattering" poses.  We essentially just look stupid.  I find out later they spent only five minutes on the other staff and their partners.

     Yay, my pic's gonna be on the wall in a "look how open-minded I am, I employ dykes" kinda montage from the boss.  I hate being the token gay.

     Then we got seated next to Rob from sales and Nick from accounts.  Two of the most boring individuals known to mankind.  Made worse by the fact they don't realise they're boring, they talk loudly and a lot.

     Nick and Rob bore each other silly, and keep talking louder and interrupting each other.  I pick up a fork and consider poking myself in the eye with it, just to alleviate the boredom.

     Nick loudly points out that I'm using the wrong fork for this course.  Damn him.  I was just adlibbing.  I mean, how am I supposed to know which fork to use, I was brought up on McD's food.

     B leans over and whispers to me, "Wanna get horribly drunk?"

     "Too damn bored.  It counteracts the alcohol."  I reply.

     Rob leans forward, and says, "So you're girlfriends, then?"

     I give him a glare that reduces vampires to dust.  Unfortunately, it has no effect on him.

     "Couldn't get a man, eh Faithy?"

     I open my mouth to speak, but B gets there first.

     "First off, her name's Faith.  Not Faithy.  She does get called Fai, but only by me.  Secondly, it's not that she couldn't get a man, she could have you in a heartbeat if she dropped her standards below humanity.  Thirdly, she's here with me, a girl, who are you here with?  No-one.  So, in a nutshell, she's doing a lot better than you."

     "Not that that's a difficult feat."  I add.  Lame.  Yes.  Cheap shot.  Obviously, but B used up all the really good put downs.

     "Frigging hetties."  She sighs loudly.

     I grin again.  She's using a me-ism.  Hetty, short for heterosexual, but a hetty is really a stereotypical straight with a closed mind.

     Rob and Nick shut up.  I think Nick is planning his next sentence so he sound very pro-gay, without losing his manly straightness.  I give him a look that lets him know neither B nor I are interested in anything he says.

     We sit through the Boss's boring speeches about how proud of us he is, and how glad he is that we're all here with our partners to celebrate Christmas.

     B and I amuse ourselves by playing tic-tac-toe on a napkin with a biro I borrowed off Nick.  He's the type of guy who won't go anywhere without a pen.  This one is especially poncey.  Gold plated with his initials engraved on them.  I won, five-three.

     Finally we're allowed to flood the bar.  The Boss, Mr Hanlon, has reserved the reception room for a 'disco' as he put it.  He's also paying for the booze, which B and I are sinking at an amazing rate.  We're not the only ones.

     "Wanna dance?"  I ask B.  They're finally playing a tune released after 1942, and I'm kinda edgy.  Down side of being Slayers, we have so much excess energy.

     We hit the dance floor, and I realise that everyone is watching us.  It's not just because of our age we stand out.  It's because everyone thinks we're together.  That thought used to make me happy, now it just hurts.

     I don't know why I'm so down tonight.  I mean, I'm having a good time, and B's put downs of Rob really tickled me, it's just something…

     Screw it.  I'm gonna drink and dance until I shake this feeling.

     B and I dance circles around the rest of my colleagues.  Then again, we're younger, and we're Slayers.  Mr H looks exhausted though.  I grin.  B meets my eyes and grins back.

     A slow song comes on, and B and I look at each other.  This could be awkward.

     Or not.  B steps forward and puts her arms around my neck.

     "You don't have to dance with me, B."  I whisper into her hair.

     "I know that, Fai.  I want to."

     I put my arms around her waist, and we dance to an old song.  I'm dimly aware of the flash of a camera and the unshed tears in my eyes.