Title: I Love How I Hate You
Rating: R for language
Pairing: none really
Disclaimer: Don't sue me, I have no money
Spoilers: none
Feedback: A little goes a long way to boost my ego
Summary: This is totally AU, there are no slayers, no demons, no vampires, etc. Faith and Buffy are friends, just high school kids having a little fun during the summer

Author's note: So this is kinda the sequel to my first fic "The Clearing." Since the girl that I actually pranked in that story never really got me back I'm just stringing together some anecdotes that we had during the summer, but I've decided that Buffy should have some form of revenge

Faith POV

"When are you going to notice I'm not talking to you?"

I tilt my head to side a little and pretend to think about it, "Gee, I dunno, maybe when you stop talking to me." I shake my head silently, chicks.

"Well, I'm not talking to you."

"'kay, whatever you say, B," I say cheerfully and smile. There's silence for a few seconds.

"I hate you."

"Mm-hmm," I know I'm totally pissing her off, I love this. She's pouting, which I think is really cute. She's so easy to piss off too, but she has the attention span of a gnat, so she almost always forgives me by the time we get to where we're going.

Buffy POV

Ugh, dammit, Faith is so evil! I can't believe she was actually capable of being so conniving. What a bitch! I should've known something was up when she wore that canary-getting' grin all the way back from the movie theatre. I swore I'd never talk to her again after that little "prank" she pulled last week, but here I am. I'm sitting in her car and we're going to the pool hall. Shit, I hate not having a car.

"Dammit, Faith, you're such a bitch!" I snap. I'm still pretty angry about the incident.

"Y'know, you called me... If you're still angry, why'd you ask me to take you out tonight?" She's mocking me, I know she is.

"You know why," I say, trying not to let my anger get the best of me.

"If I knew, would I be asking?" she replies flatly.

Great, now she's playing dumb. She's staring at me with her eyebrow raised, waiting for an answer, so I relent. "I was bored to tears, okay? There's nothing to do, I can't drive and my mom's too cheap to shell out for cable." She pauses for a moment and I can almost hear the gears turning in her head.

"You're mom is hot."

"What?"

"You heard me, your mom's a total MILF."

"Eww, gross," I am seriously disgusted. Then she has the audacity to stick her tongue out at me, wiggling it back and forth – very suggestively. Icky! "Faith! Stop it! She's my mom!"

"God, B, you're so easy," she laughs. I smack her on the arm, hard. "Not while I'm driving, B, you know better."

I just roll my eyes, "Whatever."

Faith POV

Fuck, that was way too easy. I know she hates it when I talk about her mom, but usually she puts up with it till I start getting explicit. I mean, her mom is really hot too, I know that's kinda gross, but she's still looks pretty young for her age. Joyce is one of those older women you can totally tell was a hottie in her day. Actually, from her early pictures, she looked a lot like Buffy. To top it off, she was in Playboy when she was in her twenties. Playboy! How fucking awesome is that? I know this because B showed me the issue she was in, Joyce may not have been playmate of the month or anything, but she definitely had it goin' on! Why B ever even mentioned something like that to me I'll never know. She should've known that I would never, ever, let something like that just drop.

I reach over and gently tip her chin up with my index finger, she tries to bite me – which I pretty much expected. That's my B, the little biter. She's like a freakin' puppy sometimes, I swear. Except, I'm pretty sure she bites harder, she's especially frisky when she's been drinking.

Fuck, this one time, we at a party and I'm sittin' on the porch smokin' a cigarette. I'm not being mean to her or anything, just minding my own and talking to Xander. She comes over, stands between my legs and looks up at me expectantly, I figure she just wanted a drag off my cigarette. So she takes my smoke, takes a drag, blows it out, then without warning she just fuckin' clamps down on my thigh. Really. Fucking. Hard. She bit me for no damn reason at all! She leaves this big purple bruise just above my knee – which looks like I got hit with a bat or somethin' – and gets mad at me because I smacked her on the head to get her to let go. Yeah, we're fucked up, I know. But I love her… or hate her, depends on what day of the week it is.

"I hate you," she states coldly, venom dripping from her tone.

"You love me," I counter with my usual cocky charm.

She looks out the window, sighs and quietly replies, "I know." But before I get to say anything else, we arrive at the pool hall.