"Tell her, Mom," Buffy said, willing her mother to help out. "I don't think Faith really believes you were teasing."
Joyce smiled slightly. "I get that, honey." She didn't continue, and Buffy wanted to stamp her foot in frustration. What was going on? It wasn't like Faith to wig, and why was her mom just standing there? When Joyce finally continued, Buffy wasn't sure the silence hadn't been better. "Why don't you go take a shower? I'll get Faith some clothes and start breakfast."
Wanting to protest, Buffy opened her mouth – and met her mother's eyes. Her shoulders drooped. No way could she hold out against that look. "I'll be right back, Faith. I promise." Not caring what Faith or Joyce thought, she went up on her toes and kissed Faith's cheek lightly. "Don't let her scare you off. I'd just have to come after you and kick your ass."
With a last impotent glare in Joyce's direction, Buffy leaped up the stairs, determined to take the fastest shower in history.
Faith watched Buffy go, hands rubbing nervously on her pants. So much for dealing with this together. Licking dry lips, she woodenly turned her head and looked at Joyce. "Mrs. S…I…"
"What would you like for breakfast, Faith?" Blinking in surprise, Faith thought she'd misunderstood.
"That thing with Buffy, it wasn't what it looked like," she desperately tried to explain. If she could just get Joyce to understand, maybe there wouldn't be any fallout.
"That thing? You mean when she kissed you?" Joyce laughed. "It was exactly what it looked like."
The room started to spin. Faith locked her knees, trying to stay upright as her vision greyed around the edges.
Joyce headed for the stairs. "Now, come with me. I think I have some of Hank's things. They got accidentally packed when Buffy and I moved from Los Angeles."
"No!" The word exploded from Faith. Damn it, why couldn't Mrs. Summers just get on with it? If she wanted Faith to leave, all she had to do was tell her to go. The whole clothes and breakfast deal wasn't necessary. Faith took a deep breath, meeting Joyce's eyes for the first time that morning. "I want to know what's going on. You just found out me and Buffy are-" She didn't know how to continue. Where they dating? Simply sleeping together? Better not go that far. This was Buffy's mother, after all. "Me and B are dating, and all you can do is ask what I want to eat?"
She was braced for the worst. Hands clenched into fists, stomach whirling, Faith waited. "What else would I do?" Joyce smiled and tucked her hair behind her ear. Watching numbly, Faith stood completely still as Joyce walked over. A hand cupped her chin, lifting her head until she looked into Mrs. Summers' brown eyes. "Faith, what are you afraid of?"
She would not cry. Faith sucked in a deep breath and willed the tears away. Joyce was always pushing, always trying to get her emotions to the surface. Not this time. Faith didn't need to explain what she was feeling. She just wanted to hear Mrs. Summers tell her to leave. "It's not about me, Mrs. S," Faith groaned, trying to pull away from the hand under her chin. "I want to know what you're going to do about B and me."
It would have taken Slayer strength to break Joyce's grip. Faith stood stiffly, body humming with tension.
"Faith," Joyce's voice was quiet, "I'm not going to do anything." The hand tightened even more when Faith tried to back away again. "Listen to me, young lady!" The back of Faith's neck and ears felt hot at the tone. "You are welcome here, in my house, regardless of any relationship you have with my daughter." Her voice softened again; although, there was still an edge. "If you are dating Buffy, there will have to be some ground rules, though."
"Why aren't you freaking?" The question came out a husky tribute to Faith's confusion. She couldn't understand what was happening – or not happening.
Laughing slightly, Joyce moved away. "I run an art gallery, Faith."
Well, that certainly didn't clear anything up. "I know that," Faith mumbled, irritated.
"About half of the artists whose work we display are gay." Joyce sat down on the bottom step, leaning back on her elbows. "Buffy's and your orientation isn't a problem."
Crossing her arms over her chest, Faith glowered at Joyce. This wasn't going as planned. Still testing, waiting for the explosion, Faith pushed for a reaction. "I got a record. Back in Boston."
"I'm sure between the two of us, Mr. Giles and I can find you a lawyer." Joyce tilted her head. "You want to try again? So far, you haven't told me anything I didn't already know or had guessed."
As she stared at Buffy's mom, Faith slowly relaxed, a tiny grin creeping out. "You ain't gonna fall in line and start yelling, are you?"
"No. No yelling. Not even a little loud discussing." Joyce smiled back. "Is it finally sinking in, or should I say it a few more times?"
Faith took her first full breath since coming into the house. "At least a few more times would be nice." Faith stuffed her hands in her pockets and shook her head. "Later, though. I'm good for now." Her grin kept trying to grow, take over. What the hell was that about? Pretty soon, she'd be acting like Buffy, skipping down the street. Shivering at that disturbing image, Faith held out a hand to Joyce. "I think you mentioned clothes and food?"
Joyce allowed her to pull her to her feet. "I did. If I'd know you were into the masculine look, I could have just given you Hank's stuff yesterday." Tongue in cheek, Joyce winked at Faith. "Where'd you get the shirt and jacket?" she asked as the climbed the stairs.
"B borrowed them from Wes." Faith smirked. "Actually, she kinda threatened to strip him in the hallway unless he gave up the goods." Remembering the outraged look on the Watcher's face, Faith chuckled. "I don't think he was real happy about volunteering."
Joyce wrapped an arm around Faith as they went into her bedroom. "I haven't met Buffy's new Watcher." She opened her closet and peered inside, digging through the mass of clothes crammed into the tiny space. "All of you seem to make fun of him. Is her really that bad?"
Unseen, Faith rolled her eyes. "Hell, yeah. He's all uptight and British. Way worse than Giles ever was."
"Please, please don't get Mom started on Giles," Buffy pleaded from the doorway. She'd caught the tail end of the conversation after leaving her room. "I don't want to ruin breakfast."
Faith spun around and Buffy blushed when brown eyes checked out her outfit. "Hey, B." Clearing her throat and eyeing Joyce's back, Faith rocked on heels and rubbed her hands together. "Like the look."
Before Buffy could say anything, Joyce's voice drifted out of the closet. "Ground rule number one, ladies: if there is more than one inch of exposed skin between the bottom of the shirt and the top of the pants, you change."
Buffy and Faith both glanced at the bottom of Buffy's shirt. "Hey, Faith, while Mom's looking for clothes, why don't I show you the bedroom you'll be using?" Just in case Joyce turned around, she grabbed her shirt and pulled, stretching the fabric closer to her pants. It still didn't quite meet the one-inch rule.
"Good idea, Buffy. I know your Dad's old clothes are in here somewhere." Buffy heard a thump. Clothes, shoes, and random boxes cascaded out of the open closet. "I might be a while finding them, though."
Buffy glared and crossed her arms when Faith smirked at said, "You know, Mrs. S, if it's gonna put you in any danger, I can just go back to the apartment and grab a few things to hold me over." More boxes fell. "I don't want to have to take you to the hospital with a head injury or something."
"No. There will be no more going back to the apartment." They'd gotten lucky. She didn't want Faith getting caught. Faith looked like she wanted to protest. "Do I have to try Resolve Face?" Buffy wasn't sure she could pull it off, but she was willing to try.
"Nah, that only works when Red does it." Faith shrugged. "Let's go take a look at this room, B. Watching your mom get buried alive is making me twitchy."
Buffy held out her hand, grinning at Faith's dramatic shudder as she cast a last glance at the closet. "Poor baby, I'll make you feel better," she whispered in a voice reserved for Slayer hearing. As soon as they were safely in her room, Buffy wrapped her arms around Faith, kissing her deeply.
The kiss was brief, however, since Faith stiffened in the embrace. Buffy pulled back, pouting. "Ah, hell, B, don't do that." Using her index finger, Faith poked until Buffy's lip was almost back in place and not hanging. "That always gets me."
"Good." Buffy grinned. That was more like it. She leaned up, ready for a better kiss.
It never happened. Faith leaned back. "Your mom's here."
There was a sinking sensation in Buffy's stomach. "It's her house, Faith. Of course she's here." Testing a theory, Buffy grabbed Faith and pinned her against the wall. Pressing her lips to Faith's neck, she murmured, "Don't worry, though, she's digging through two decades worth of ugly clothes. She'll never know."
She was sure Faith was on board. A shudder ran through the other girl, and Buffy felt Faith's pulse race under her lips. Smiling, Buffy pressed her advantage. Her hands slid up Faith's sides, finger just brushing the outside of her breasts.
There was a dull thud and a shout from across the hall. It was like a light switch turning off. Faith went unresponsive. Still charged up from the necking, Buffy pleaded, "You aren't saying we can't ever touch in the house? Please, please don't tell me that." This couldn't be happening. Faith was going to be living here. They couldn't live in the same house and not touch, could they?
"Hey, come on, B." Faith grinned. It was fake. Buffy didn't see any dimples. "It won't be that bad. Really." Who did Faith think she was fooling? It would be worse than bad. "I just…" Faith was babbling now, "your mom…I don't want to screw this up, B." Her voice was rough, and Buffy saw tears in her eyes.
She melted. She'd seen Faith sexy, tired, cocky, teasing. They all paled next to vulnerable. "We'll do it your way." Faith's eyes lit up, a real smile appeared. "For now," Buffy warned. "I am not doing away with my snuggles and kissing privileges forever. Just until you stop worrying about Mom throwing you out."
The phone in the kitchen rang. "Buffy, Faith, can one of you get that?" Buffy heard her mom shout.
"Yeah, Mom." Buffy sprinted down the stairs, dread forming a knot in her stomach. It was Giles. She knew it. They'd put off researching the Ascension for the Prom.
She picked up the phone with a damp hand, "Summers."
"Good morning, Buffy." Buffy closed her eyes and leaned her forehead against the wall at Giles' voice.
"Morning," she muttered back. Even frustrated at the return to reality, she couldn't quite get mad at him.
He hesitated. Buffy heard a rhythmic brushing sound. Giles and his glasses, probably. "Um, yes, well, I realize it's quite early. However, I was hoping to get everyone together this morning to do a bit more research."
Buffy leaned away from the wall when Faith wrapped her arms around her from behind. "Giles?" the husky whisper brushed her ear. She nodded. "OK. I'll go rescue your mom and help with the clothes. I've got some cash. Tell G-man we'll pick up breakfast on the way." Faith pulled away and Buffy bit back a whine. Damn it! She didn't want to go back to business as usual.
"Buffy? Are you there?" Giles sounded irritated. Even better. Research, no kissing Faith, and an irritated Watcher.
"We'll be there in a couple of hours, Giles." She heard him take a deep breath and rushed on, not up to dealing with his disapproval of her timetable. "We just got home a few minutes ago. Mom's trying to find Faith something to wear, and we'll grab breakfast for everyone on the way in. See you in a bit. Bye." Buffy slammed the phone down and headed for the stairs.