Ski Trip

And so the story ends.




*

Everything looked innocent by the time Joyce came back. They'd eaten the mess of things-fried-together that Faith liked to call an omelette, and Buffy had started running the hot water for dishes, when they both heard the door creak open. Slayer hearing: sponsor of the Walk of Shame. Faith couldn't help but grin as she leaned over the counter. Mrs. S was peering around the door like she hoped to make it through the gauntlet unchallenged. Maybe, in Buffy's current mood, she could have. But accept, learn, and grow had no place in Faith's philosophy.

"Hey, Mrs. S!" she called out. "How was the party?"

Joyce winced and let the door slam. "Oh. Faith. I didn't expect you to be up yet. It's only..."

"Noon," Buffy said, walking up beside Faith and slipping a hand into her back jeans pocket. Faith grinned sideways at her. If anyone ever questioned the tight jeans again, this was an answer and a half.

"Hello, Buffy." Joyce took a moment to realize she was still wearing her coat and had her purse slung over one shoulder, and dropped both on the couch. The dress underneath was rumpled. Probably it had spent the night on the floor, but Faith figured she wasn't one to judge. Joyce cast about for an appropriate topic of conversation and settled on, "Did you have fun last night?"

"Best New Year's Eve ever," Buffy answered, perfectly straight-faced. And without a hint of a blush--had to give the girl credit.

"Oh, good. That's good."

"Yes. Yes, it is good."

Faith looked back and forth from one to the other. Joyce was waiting for the other shoe to drop, for Buffy to get that dangerous Slayer-look in her eye and start shooting questions like the bad cop in the interrogation room. Buffy was not quite smiling, enjoying the upper hand...and giving Faith a lot to think about with her lower hand. Clearly Faith had managed to corrupt her. Not such a bad thing, either.

"So Mr. Hewitt was a good host?" she asked. Okay, she was stirring the pot, but if she didn't this little face off might go on all day. "Did he show you a good time?"

Could she help it if every sentence out of her mouth sounded like she was talking about sex? It was practically another superpower. Cue the Summers blush, in stereo. Buffy elbowed her and Joyce looked like a trip to one of the nicer hell dimensions wouldn't be unwelcome right about then.

"Mark is a gentleman," Joyce said, with as much dignity as she could muster.

"Sometimes that's the best kind," Faith whispered for Buffy's benefit. "They turn out to be tigers in the sack." Buffy smiled sweetly and stomped on her toe. Faith didn't hesitate, but retaliated with a pinch in a place that, a week ago, she would have been staked for touching.

"Hey!" Buffy jumped away, yanking her hand out of Faith's pocket. Too bad. She'd been enjoying that. And if Buffy was willing to do that much right in front of her mom--whether she could see or not--maybe going back to Sunnydale wouldn't be so bad. Maybe.

"Are you all right, Buffy?" Joyce asked, now coming into the kitchen.

"Fine." Buffy stuck her tongue out at Faith. Since Joyce wasn't looking her way, Faith did the same...except more. She made a Spock-sign with her fingers and waggled her tongue between them, miming Buffy's actions from an hour or so ago. Shit if just thinking about it didn't turn her on. By the look on Buffy's face, it did the same for her. Go team Faith.

"Buffy?"

Buffy pulled her eyes away from Faith's display and focused on her mom. "Yeah?"

"I said, have you packed yet? It's a long drive home today."

"Oh. No, not yet." Buffy's face fell. She'd probably forgotten that this had to end some time. Faith wanted to wrap her arms around her and comfort her, and at the same time she wanted to back away. Love or not, she didn't want to be the cuddly type, the flowers-and-candy girlfriend. She hopped up on the counter, swinging her legs, and picked at a spatter of egg that they'd missed when they wiped up.

"I'm ready," she said. "Just tie my bindle together and I'm good to go, right, B?" The words came out more bitter than she'd meant them. She saw the hurt in Buffy's eyes and regretted it pretty much as soon as she'd said it. Buffy took a step forward and then glanced at her mom. She folded her arms and looked at the floor. Oh, great. Let the hiding begin.

"Well, don't worry, I'm not finished packing either," Joyce said. She stared hard at Faith, with a little frown on her face. She looked like she was trying to figure something out, and for a minute Faith thought she had them dead to rights. But then she just gave a confused shake of her head and headed upstairs. "Don't take too long, though," she called over her shoulder. "You probably want to get home before dark."

"And that's the closest she'll get to saying anything about our slaying," Buffy said quietly. She was still standing way the hell on the other side of the kitchen, arms crossed, not really looking at Faith.

"So, you talk to her a lot?" Faith asked. "'Cause I bet she's not going to start dealing unless you tell her more about it."

"She wouldn't be any happier knowing more. She'd want me to be home by sunset every night. She thinks she can protect me."

"Like that's a bad thing." Faith knocked her heels against the cabinets below her. "She's, like, your mom. That doesn't always mean shit, and I should know, but with her it does. You tell her, she'll wig, then she'll deal, then she'll be glad you trusted her."

Buffy glanced up, sort of coy, with a hint of a smile on her face. "Are we still talking about the slaying?"

Faith scowled. "Yes." End of story.

Buffy came over to her and stood between her legs, hugging her where she sat on the counter. "Because you're right. And if we're not--still talking about slaying, I mean--then you're still right. Besides, I'm glad I convinced you that people should trust each other."

Faith grunted. "I don't know if I'd go that far."

"You want me to trust people with knowing about us. I want you to trust me to tell them." Buffy pulled Faith towards her and off the counter. Faith slid to the floor slowly, grinning as she rubbed against Buffy all the way down. She was even beginning to like the stupid polar bear pyjamas. Or maybe it was the fact that she knew Buffy wasn't wearing anything underneath. Buffy held her trapped, the edge of the counter digging into her butt. "And I'm sorry I said that, about the bindle. I just--my words are stupid sometimes."

"Only sometimes?" Faith asked, trying to hold back a laugh. She started forward like she was going to walk away, and Buffy shoved her back with her hips.

"Yeah. Sometimes. The rest of the time I'm really deep. Practically wise." She was leaning forward now, and Faith could feel her breath against her mouth. She licked her lips and was about to quit fooling around and take this where it was quite obviously headed--when Joyce cleared her throat.

Faith expected Buffy to leap away like she'd been goosed again, but instead she only leaned more firmly into Faith, resting her head against her shoulder, and watched her mom enter the kitchen. Buffy looked pretty confident, but Faith could feel her get all tense and trembly, the way she felt after an intense sparring session.

"Buffy?"

"Yeah, Mom?"

There was a pause, and Faith was sure that Joyce was going to explode into some bitch-monster yelling match about how could Buffy do this to her, and if she thought Angel was bad, at least he was a guy--an older, undead, unsoulable guy, but a guy nonetheless--and how dare Faith come anywhere near her daughter, and if she thought for one minute that this was going to continue she had another think coming.

Instead, Joyce said: "Don't forget to pack the things you've left in the bathroom."

"Right."

"Oh, and Mark might be visiting Sunnydale this weekend. Maybe we could all have dinner together on Friday."

Buffy shrugged. "Faith asked me out on Friday. How about Saturday?"

Another long pause. A really, really long pause with a staring contest and a silent battle of wills. Joyce did the head-tilt, puzzled-frown, befuddled-parent look, and Buffy answered with the innocent stare and the raised eyebrows. Joyce put her hands on her hips. Buffy hugged Faith tighter. Faith tried to pretend she was elsewhere.

Joyce cracked first. "That's...neat." She turned away, looked back, opened her mouth, closed it again. Then, in a tone full of motherly authority: "Load the Jeep."

"Okay."

Joyce nodded, wearing the expression of someone who had come into the room for a specific purpose and had forgotten it along the way. With one final confused head shake, she headed back upstairs.

Buffy burst out laughing.

Faith smiled at her, still a bit worried about Mrs. S. It looked like they'd turned her into a zombie or something. At least there hadn't been yelling. "What's so funny?"

Buffy finally got her giggles under control. She looked up at Faith, her eyes bright with suppressed laughter. "She approves."

"What?"

"She likes you. She thinks you'll be good for me." Buffy stopped and gave a slight frown of concern. "She's probably going to start worrying about whether you eat enough vegetables and if you should quit smoking."

"You got all that from 'load the Jeep'?" Faith paused, then added, "And I don't smoke that much."

"Come on, let's pack, I'll explain all about it." Buffy took her hand and tugged her towards the bedroom.

"Just pack?" Faith asked plaintively. She'd been sure there was about to be smoochies, as Buffy would say, and she wasn't one to settle for interruptions.

Buffy's grin was answer enough.

*

When Faith got out to the Jeep she understood why Buffy had been so happy to be volunteered into loading it. Most of their bags were shoved into the front , tied down by the seat belt, with only enough room free for Joyce to shift without knocking everything to the floor. The ski gear fit into the limited cargo space, leaving the back seat free and clear. Buffy had tossed blankets and pillows back there, and it was pretty obvious where she expected the two of them to be riding on the way back to Sunnydale.

Joyce looked at the nest Buffy had created and at the stuff sharing the front seat with her. There was another brief bout of mother/daughter telepathy, then Buffy was pulling Faith into the back seat after her.

"Everyone ready to go home?" Joyce asked as she put the Jeep in gear.

"Yes, Mom," Buffy said, like a kid chorusing 'good morning' to a teacher.

Faith met Joyce's eyes in the rearview mirror. The weird zombie-doubt was gone from her eyes and she smiled back at Faith. "I guess I am," she said, surprised to find that it was true--Sunnydale was home. And for the first time, she wasn't scared to go back. Who knew what would happen then--with Angel and the Scoobies and whatever big bad would be the next to claim the Hellmouth--but she figured they could handle it, B and her. The Chosen Two.

She spent the trip back watching the mountains recede behind them, Buffy snuggled against her, and her hands carefully hidden under the blankets, where they could do the most good.

*

finis

Want a sequel? Feed the feedback monster!