Disclaimers: I don't own them, Joss et al do.
Comments: Pebblin, doll extrordinaire. Star, founder of my fanclub, M for being her and also to the guys and dolls of BuffyNFaith.
Special Thanks: To Marlboro Menthols; praise be to the sticks of death.
 
 
Slayers Do Vegas VII- Playing Mental Health Games is Not Good for your Psyche
 
 
'Put the quarter down, B. You can do this. Put it down and back away from the machine.
She rolls her eyes, puts the coin in her pocket and walks out of the Casino with me.
 
As we get outside, I stop her, push my hand into the pocket of her pants and feel around for the coin.
 
'You having a good time there, Faith?'
She's crossed her arms and raised an eyebrow for effect.
 
I dig around longer than I need to, making sure I'm not too rough and finally pull the quarter out.
Did I just cop a cheap feel?
I don't care because as I look up, I see B swallow hard, then blink a few times to try and knock whatever thoughts are going round her head, out.
 
'This...' I hold the coin up, '...is mine! Look at you, not even a whole day in Vegas and you're already stealing money off your friends to support your habit! B, I'm ashamed of you.'
 
'But, you said I could pay you back in kind? Selective memory.'
 
We're still standing close.
There's like, this heat thing going on between us.
It's making me nervous.
Yeah, yeah, Faith the Slut, Faith get some get gone, Faith the flirt, whatever.
I still get nervous, especially when it involves B.
I mean, this ain't some 'get gone' deal.
I couldn't be all unfeeling with her.
 
Shit.
I should stop all this flirting.
She's bluffing, but still, ain't doing myself any good.
Mind trip.
Damn it!
 
I take a step back, and look anywhere but at her.
Out the corner of my eye I can see her eyebrows get all frowny though.
Subtle Faith.
Real smooth.
 
'You ok?'
 
No.
'Yeah, sure. I'm just tired. Think I'm gonna go back to the room. D'ya mind?'
 
Fuckin' moron Faith.

I am kinda tired though.
We've probably walked about 10 miles.
Slayer or not, there's only so much neon and noise a person can take before they start lickin' the sidewalk.
 
'Come on then, lets get poor Faith back for her nap.'
She smiles and loops her arm through mine.
 
Looks like she won, then.
Faked me out and I crumbled.
I'm such a chump.
 
'You can stay out, B. I'm not saying you have to come back with me.'
 
I want her to come back with me, but I'm not gonna let on.
It feels like someone is playing tennis with the thoughts in my head.
Back and forth.
Back and forth.
 
One minute, I want to be near her.
The next, I don't.
 
Jeeez Faith, chill out.
Think happy thoughts!

Ok; I'm cool.
 
Maybe I should just stop thinking so much.
Yeah, that sounds good.
It was the overanalyzing shit that got you all depressed in the first place, Faith,
 
B's voice brings me back to Earth.
 
'No way! Slayers together, 'til the bitter end! Even if it means death by slots... right?'
 
I gotta laugh.
She's so stupid sometimes-- in a good way though.
She managed to pull me out of my funk in less then 30 seconds.
Talent; but then I never thought any different of her.
 
We walk off back to the hotel, arm in arm.
 
'The only casualty's gonna be my bank account, B, all thanks to you.'

'You wouldn't have it any other way.'
 
I look at the smile on her face, and realise she's right.

'Guess I wouldn't, B.'