Disclaimers: Joss et al own
them, not me. No harm intended.
Comments: I don't run to the timeline of the show, at all.
Dedications: To Star, who lets me stroke her leg *cough*
I mean velvet trousers.
Slayers Do Vegas VIII - When Playing Games, Slayers
Should Stick to Scrabble
I walk out of the bathroom and see B, speed
flicking through the channels of the TV.
'You'll break that if you're not careful, then
we'll be forced to talk to each other.'
She throws the remote at me but I catch it before it makes impact with my
face.
'You ever thought of going pro, B?'
'At what? Remote throwing? Yes, but the perks
of being a Slayer stopped me.'
I watch her roll off the bed and start hunting
round in her bag.
'Perks? Yeah B, all the great people we get
to meet, nights out... wouldn't give it up for anything.'
I hear her snigger a little as I sit down on
my bed, testing the mattress by bouncing up and down a bit.
I do the last buttons of my shirt up.
Thought it'd be safer if I got dressed in the bathroom.
I dry my hair off a bit with a towel and then roll it up a bit, as she walks
past me.
'Owww!'
I get her with a towel strike, dead centre
in her ass.
'Slayer accuracy! Not that I could miss that
ass of yours, B!'
I'm asking for it, I know, but sometimes I
just can't help myself.
Jeeez, and do I get it!
B dives on top of me, wrestling the towel out of my hands and rubbing it in
my face.
Shit!
Wet towels are no fun, unless you're peeling them off a wet person that is.
'Get... off...!'
'Oh, Faithy, can give it but can't take it,
huh?'
Ok, I might have just had a wet towel rammed
in my face, but that ain't what I'm feeling right about now.
What I'm feeling is warm and soft and called Buffy Summers.
I stop struggling and look up to see the most beautiful site, ever.
Beats the lights of Vegas, hands down.
B, breathless, blonde hair tousled and hanging down, hands on my shoulders
and those lips close enough for me to kiss if I moved up a few inches.
'I can take anything you've got to give, B.'
Ok, now that's a big fat lie.
This is...
It's just making me...
Shit!
Her face moves down, just a bit, but there's
hardly any space between us to begin with.
'You think, huh, Faith?'
This is a fuckin' head trip.
I know she's playing me at my own game, and I don't like it.
Now she's just tryin' to get one up on me.
But when I do it, it's 'cause I mean it.
Fuck.
'I try not to think too much, B. Gets me all
confused.'
What a stupid thing to say?
What am I fuckin' talking about?
ENOUGH!
I flip her over onto her back, she wasn't expecting
it and she swears as I put all my weight on her.
Places traded, baby.
We're in exactly the same position as before, only I'm on top.
Just where I like it.
I move my mouth down, close to hers.
Can feel her warm breath on my lips.
Now SHE looks panicked.
Yeah, not so cocky now are ya, B?
'Don't play this game with me, B. This ain't
something I'm willing to lose at.'
At that, I roll off her, grab my jacket and
walk out the door.
Fuck knows where I'm going.
I just need some air to clear this fog in my head.
Guess it serves me right for playing this game
with her.
Way to go, Faith.
You fucked up again!