Saving the day gets the hero some play.

Saving the day gets the hero some play

It was quiet out tonight. Some people might have said too quiet, but for Buffy there was no such thing. The quieter the better. After all, any trouble brewing anywhere was going to suck her into its center at some point anyway, so she might as well enjoy the quiet bits while she could.

Whistling, she wandered down the road between one cemetery and the next, eyes peeled for any possible action. There wasn’t any.

Twenty minutes and another part of town later, there still wasn’t any.

“Okay so this is getting boring now,” she told the empty street. “Just give me one vamp and I’ll go home happy.”

She twisted to look behind her, then she looked up at the sky and then she bent to look under a car. Nothing.

Sighing, she gave up. Obviously you couldn’t jinx yourself if you were actually trying to. Otherwise the Universe would have dumped a dozen vampires on her head for saying that.

Oh well, heading home via Hovista Apartments would kill a little more time and she’d made it a point just recently to keep an eye on that particular area.

Five minutes later she was just rounding the side of one of the blocks of apartments when she heard the ruckus. She paused and listened harder. Yep, definitely a ruckus. Of course it could have had a perfectly natural explanation, like a couple of people fighting, but what were the chances? There was a reason she patrolled around here now.

At a run she came around the corner in time to see a dark haired woman hit a green scaley something that certainly wasn’t people in the face with her handbag.

“Why’s it always lizard-demons? How many species of lizard demon are there anyway?” Buffy asked the Universe as she jumped onto the back of one of the two lizard demons menacing the deceptively young looking woman.

“Twenty-four. Buffy what are you doing here?”

“Hey Anya. So this is why the town is so quiet tonight. You invited all the monsters to your place for a party.” Buffy kicked out at the demon still advancing on her friend, while trying to get the first in a headlock. “Twenty-four, really, is that all?”

“Yes. As far as official categorisation goes. There are plenty of other reptilian demons, but actual lizard ones – there are twenty-four. And why are you here fighting them? I thought I made it perfectly clear that I wanted to make it on my own from now on.” Anya swung her bag at her demon. “That means you being somewhere else while I do it.”

“Yeah well I was bored.” Pulling her stake out of her pocket, Buffy jumped off and plunged it into the lizard thing’s back.

It roared, probably in anger rather than pain considering the weapon hadn’t made any impact on its skin at all. It flicked its fat tail and knocked her off her feet.

“Oh, well that makes me feel special. You’re only saving me because you were bored. Lucky for me you don’t have even the lame social life that I do then.” Anya waved the bag around some more, keeping the demons at bay.

Buffy flipped back to her feet. “Hey! I do so have a social life. I’m a regular social butterfly.” She shoved Mr Pointy back into her jeans pocket as she moved in to grab at the demon again, because stabbing obviously didn’t work. The demon ducked. Buffy’s mind was just forming it’s ‘huh?’ when a faux-leather black handbag smacked her in the face.

“Ow! Crap!” Buffy went back to the ground again holding her nose. “I’m on your side, you dolt!”

Anya screamed as she was picked up by a demon and carried away. “Then why are you just laying there? Why aren’t you saving me?”

Buffy gently felt around her nose with one hand as she pushed herself up with the other. It wasn’t broken but it was bleeding a little. Great.

The demon hadn’t taken Anya far. Its short stumpy legs had only gotten it as far as the complex parking lot. Its demon buddy ran by its side. Obviously they had no interest in her.

Picking up a large rock Buffy hurled it at the overgrown lizard’s back. It made a thump as it hit before falling to the ground with another thump. The big, dumb lizard didn’t react at all. What were these things made of?

“Fire!” Anya shouted back to her as Buffy started to pursue. “Set them on fire! Hurry!”

“Anya I don’t have any fire.” Buffy pointed out. She let out a flying kick at the demon-running-shotgun’s head. It stumbled to its knees while the one carrying Anya just kept on ticking.

“Well that’s a lot of good then isn’t it?” Anya said sarcastically as she looked down on her from the demon’s shoulder. “What did you expect to kill Ra’rahfan demons with?”

“I wasn’t expecting to be killing any Rastafarian demons.” She kicked the demon in the small of his back and hurt her leg. “Okay, this is the last time I save you.”

“You are not exactly doing a great deal of saving now.”

“Oh yeah? We’ll see about that.”

In a mad frenzy of kicking, punching and one cool move that involved a ripped up tree and a demon head, Buffy had really bruised an elbow, given herself a mild concussion (note to self: don’t try and headbutt things you can’t stab through) and liberated an ex-vengeance demon with a bad attitude.

“Buffy, do you have to carry me this way?” Anya asked as she bumped along over Buffy’s shoulder. “It’s not as sexy when you’re not Xander dressed up like a fireman,” she said petulantly.

“I’m trying to get you away from two very pissed off demons and you insult my sexiness. When you slipped back into your bad old ways did you deliberately forget all the decorum lessons we practically had to beat into you in the first place?” Buffy was starting to wish she’d never bothered stopping by.

“I didn’t mean you aren’t sexy, Buffy. Of course you are,” Anya explained rather too matter-of-factly for it to be much of an apology. “It’s just getting bumped around like this is not sexy. It just hurts my stomach.”

Buffy shook her head. Okay brain, lets just barrel straight through the Anya calling me sexy part of this rescue mission and get to the actual rescue. “Have you still got your house keys in that damn bag?”

“Uh huh.”

“Good. Now might be a good time to fish them out.” Buffy pulled open the heavy glass door to the apartment block and dashed inside. She let the door swing shut on its own, but didn’t hear it click shut. As she set foot on the first step she took a quick look over her shoulder and saw the first of the demons already through it.

“Ouch. Ow. Ow!” Can you take the stairs a little smoother?” Anya continued to complain from above.

“Yes why don’t I fly up them for you. Would that help?” Buffy pinched the back of Anya’s thigh, hard.

“Ow!” As Buffy pounded up the staircase, first one flight, round the corner and then up a second flight, Anya fell silent for a second. “You don’t need to snap. I was only asking.”

“Anya…” Buffy began in a warning tone. She skidded to halt at the other woman’s front door. “Keys!”

Anya handed them to her and she found the right one, stuffed it in the lock and turned. Buffy was slightly less panicky now. The demons could still be clearly heard stomping up the first set of stairs. Their stumpy legs weren’t made for climbing quickly.

Barging into the small reception alcove, Buffy stumbled over some shoes and fell towards a wall bearing coats hanging from hooks. She let go of Anya to save herself and the ex-vengeance demon slid down the wall. When Anya’s feet were firmly on the ground, Buffy sagged, breathing heavily, her arms braced against the wall either side of Anya. The woman may not have been heavy, but she was taller than Buffy and that made her not the easiest person to carry up to the third story.

Anya had the vantage point over Buffy’s shoulder and wriggling beneath the short blonde she squealed, slightly unnecessarily right into her ear: “Buffy! The door!”

Whirling around Buffy saw that the first of the lizard things had already made it to their level and was now charging, albeit in almost slow motion, down the hall towards them. Slamming the door shut, she flicked the latch across for good measure and shot the top and bottom bolts home.

There were some hissy-growly noises outside but at least nothing had come right through the wood.

“Okay. Looks like I’m staying over for a while.” Buffy turned from the door to where Anya had slid to the floor completely.

“That’s not convenient. I have plans. You can’t just expect me to change them because you can’t do your job properly.” Anya scrambled back up and straightened out her skirt. Glaring at Buffy, she walked down the corridor into her kitchen.

Buffy followed her. “It’s not me that wants you to change your plans. It’s the demon you pissed off. You want to go on, business as usual, go right ahead, but if it’s okay with you: I’m gonna house-sit for you until those unkillable things out there get bored and go away.”

“And if they never go away?” Anya asked as she rattled things around in her cupboards looking for who knew what.

“Then you have yourself a room-mate for the foreseeable.” Buffy leaned against the counter and started to unbutton her shirt. “It could be good. My house does seem to be getting a little overcrowded at the moment,” she joked.

Anya turned from her task to stare at the slayer incredulously. “Just what exactly do you think you are doing? You can’t come into my home and just expect me to have sex with you. Not that I don’t admire the direct approach, I’ve used it myself on a few occasions, but this really isn’t appropriate compensation for saving my life. I’m in a very vulnerable position right now, not to mention that my abdomen is very bruised, and I know all about hero protocol. You sweep me off my feet and I fall madly in love with you and then we wake up in the morning feeling really, really awkward. Not to mention Xander, he would be…”

Buffy finally had enough of listening to Anya go on and on. She looked up from staring at the big, lizard-head shaped bruise that made her ribs ache. “Anya I’m just checking you haven’t caused me any life-threatening injuries, not trying to seduce you. ‘Cause that would be so wrong.”

“Why what’s wrong with me?” Anya doubled back, forgetting she wasn’t even interested a second go.

“Nothing’s wrong with you, but you’re a girl. And I don’t do that.” Buffy did a couple of her buttons back up, but not all of them. The shirt was tight and with the buttons fastened it rubbed painfully on her bruise. “I didn’t know you did either.”

“I haven’t. At least not yet. But the way I look at it, I won’t be single forever.” Anya went back to her work, pulling things from her cupboards and placing them on the counter.

Buffy looked into the shiny tiles above the sink so she could check out her reflection. There was still blood under her nose. Gross.

“Eventually, after enough grovelling,” said Anya, “I will forgive Xander because it’s not as if I can spend the rest of my life without him. Until that day comes I think I should try everything I can. Live a little! Isn’t that what people are told to do when they’ve had their heart stomped on and trampled in the mud? You must know.”

Buffy finished wiping at her nose with a piece of kitchen towel and turned back to Anya. “Uh yeah… seize the fish!”

“Fish? What does a fish have to do with anything? I’m talking about us having sex.”

“What? Why?” Buffy spluttered, backing away from the crazy lady. “Why would you want to talk about that?”

“I just told you why and this seems like the perfect opportunity. We’ve just had an adrenaline pumping adventure involving evil and I know that makes you horny.”

“What?” Buffy said again. “How would you know that?”

“Xander told me. I didn’t believe him at first, but then you started to patrol with Spike all the time and not us and you ended up boinking him, so I guess it is true.” Anya, for some reason, leaned forward and patted her arm. “You don’t have to be embarrassed by it. It does make sense when you think about it. I was feeling the adrenaline pumping fear until you got us through that door, and fear makes me horny.” She gave a casual shrug as if this conversation wasn’t completely mortifying. “And we’re stuck here for a little while anyway and there’s never anything good on television on a Tuesday.”

“So you think we should have sex to pass the time?” Buffy asked, trying to keep the uncomfortableness out of her voice. Anya was obviously joking or just trying to freak her out for ruining her plans to get turned into demon chow. Buffy wasn’t going to give her the satisfaction.

“No, I think it’s a bad idea for us to have sex!” Anya clarified. “But you won’t stop standing there looking all mussed and sweaty and half-undressed.”

“If you want me to do my shirt up, even though it hurts like a bitch, I can. If you really think I’m that irresistible after getting my ass kicked, that is?” Buffy chuckled, feeling a little off balance.

“No you’re resistible enough, you can leave your shirt,” Anya told her blandly.

Thinking about it, Buffy noticed the shiny tiles went all the way around the kitchen. As Anya continued to fuss at the counter she was watching Buffy’s reflection. That made her feel kinda strange. As far as she knew she’d never been checked out by another woman before; certainly not under circumstances as bizarre as these anyways. Coughing a little, she fastened one more button on her shirt and affected the most casual air she could as she asked:

“So what are you doing there?”

“I’m making drinks. It’s what you do for company and I suppose you can be loosely classed as company.”

“Gee thanks.”

“I just meant that company is normally someone who wants to be somewhere. You’re just here because you can’t leave. It’s not the same.”

“That’s not true,” Buffy protested. “Well okay it is true on some levels, but I swung by here on my way home looking for you, so I obviously did want to see you.”

“That doesn’t count. If you had arrived and I hadn’t been about to get eaten by Ra’rahfans you wouldn’t have come in for screwdrivers.”

“Screw…” Buffy wrinkled her nose. “…Are we back to that again?”

Anya shook her cocktail mixer hard with both hands. “Screwdriver, Buffy. The drink.”

“Oh. Oh well that’s okay I guess. So what are they like? I haven’t tried them before.” Buffy took in the orangy mixture in the metal shaker as Anya carefully pulled the lid off.

“It tastes sort of orangey.” Anya poured the drink into two tall glasses.

“Yeah I can see how that might be. What’s in it?”

“Vodka and orange juice.”

Buffy waited a beat but Anya went to the fridge for something instead of saying more. “That’s it? So it’s basically just a vodka and orange juice. Why do they call it a screwdriver?”

Anya came back with a small dish of bright red glace cherries. “I don’t know, maybe because you shake it in the metal thing or maybe because you have to put one of these in.” She dropped a cherry into each glass.

“Aren’t you supposed to stick a stick through them first?” Buffy indicated the bobbing cherries.

“Why?”

Buffy shrugged, caught between remembering why she rarely sought out Anya’s company in the past and almost wishing she had.

“You can drink it now. It’s ready.”

“Thank you.” Buffy picked up her glass and sipped from it. It tasted just like vodka and orange juice. “It’s nice,” Buffy encouraged and sipped some more.

Anya led the way into the living room and turned on the television. Sitting on the couch she patted the cushion beside her. “Here. You can have Xander’s seat.”

Buffy smiled and settled down next to the other woman to watch the TV, drink her drink and out-wait the uninvited guests in the hall.

*~*~*

“It’s so annoying that the little shaker thing only makes four glasses at a time,” Anya complained as she repeated the screwdriver-making process for the third time.

“You could just pour the vodka and juice straight into the glass,” Buffy suggested helpfully. She was still lounging on the couch, her head tilted back so she could talk to Anya while she was in the kitchen.

“Then it wouldn’t be a cocktail. It would just be a drink,” Anya pointed out as she came back through holding the metal cocktail shaker. She refilled Buffy’s glass and then her own and toppled back onto the couch with her drink in her hand. “Damn, I forgot the cherries.”

“I’ll get them. Wouldn’t be a cocktail without the cherries.” Buffy started to get off the couch. She managed it on the second attempt.

“It’s not nice to make fun of someone who is sharing all their alcohol with you for no monetary gain,” Anya called after her.

“Don’t think I haven’t worked that one out yet Ahn. You’re only plying me with free booze because you want to have sex with me,” Buffy called back jokingly as she looked in the fridge for the little dish of cherries.

She walked back to the living room holding aloft the cherry bowl. “Ta da!”

“They were only in the fridge Buffy, not buried beneath Mount Olympus.” Anya took the bowl as Buffy pouted. She dropped one in her own glass and threw the other at Buffy’s. It arced up perfectly before plopping into the drink with a tiny splash. “If anything deserves a ‘ta da’, it’s that.”

“Yeah. I should probably eat something before I drink much more,” Buffy admitted, fishing her cherry back out and popping it in her mouth.

“I could cook us something. Xander always said my Fiskeboller was to die for. Except I haven’t got any groceries. That’s where I was going when D’Hoffryn’s wet-workers showed up. I have cheese sauce,” she offered brightly.

“No thanks, I’m good.” Buffy sipped some more of her drink and wondered what the hell Fiskeboller was.

“We could get take-out. I have menus.”

Buffy thought about it. “The problem with that is our dinner would get eaten before it got to us; and so would the delivery person.”

“True.”

Both women sat quietly while they tried to come up with another plan.

“We could see if they’re gone yet,” Anya finally proposed.

“Good plan.” Up they got and walked stealthily to the front door; Buffy stopped just before they reached the small entrance room. “Why are we tiptoeing?”

“So the demons don’t hear us coming.”

Buffy accepted this with a shrug.

At the front door, Anya strained her eye trying to see anything through her tiny little peep-hole. “I can’t see anything.”

Buffy nudged her away from the door. “I’ll see if I can hear them.” Putting her ear to the door she tried to make out any supernatural noises coming from the other side.

“Can you hear anything?” Anya asked in a whisper.

“Yeah, I can hear your TV.” Buffy pressed her ear harder to the wood.

Anya hurried back into the living room and Buffy heard the click as the set was switched off and then silence apart from the other woman’s returning footsteps padding up the hall. “Anything else?” she asked when she was behind Buffy again.

“My tummy’s kind of rumbly,” Buffy admitted as her insides let out a particularly lengthy gurgle.

Slightly irritated now, Anya asked again: “Anything else?”

Buffy turned to face her. “Yes, you, talking… constantly.” She concentrated again on any sounds from outside. There didn’t seem to be any. “I think they might be gone. Do you want to take a look?”

Anya backed up. “No I want you to take a look. I’ll be standing back here with… with…” She looked about her for inspiration, before delving into a pocket of one of the hanging coats. “…with this.”

Buffy raised an eyebrow. “Why; are you peckish too?”

“What? No, it’s a weapon,” Anya explained, holding the root vegetable like a dagger.

“Anya it’s a carrot.”

“Of course it’s not a carrot,” scoffed Anya. “Please, how stupid do you think I am? It’s a stake.”

“Sure looks like a carrot,” Buffy countered. “It’s orange and everything.” Buffy took it from her and looked it over.

“I painted it. Being the Slayer may give you license to carry lethal shards of wood, but I’m just a normal girl protecting myself from normal monsters and the police take a very dim view of normal girls who walk the streets with deadly weapons. This way I can go about my business without fear of being arrested.” Anya took the wooden carrot back from Buffy, who had been admiring the green wool stapled to the fat end, and raised it to a slashing position again. Grinning a little fiendishly she added: “And the bunnies never see it coming!”

Feeling a little perturbed, and trying desperately not to think about Anya stalking rabbits through the streets of Sunnydale with a carrot, Buffy decided that however much time she spent with her, she’d never fully understand her. Although that was probably true of anyone who had lived longer than a thousand years.

Pulling back the bolts as quietly as she could, Buffy slowly opened the door and pulled it towards her. Looking around the edge showed her an empty corridor. So far so good.

“I think we’re safe,” she told Anya, inching herself around the door.

“Are you sure?”

“I think so. I’m just gonna check…” Buffy pointed to the bend where the stairs began and walked towards it.

Anya followed her out into the corridor, keeping a little way behind with her carrot held high just in case.

As Buffy reached the top of the stairs her eyes widened comically and, turning on the spot she started to sprint back towards the apartment. “Not safe, not safe, not safe!” she squealed as she ran past the ex-demon.

Loud stomping came from the hidden stairwell and within seconds the two Ra’rahfans were in plain sight and full charge. With a squeal of her own, Anya threw her carrot at the leading one as hard as she could and followed Buffy back through the door. Buffy was waiting to slam it shut.

There was a roar from the other side. “You have to come out sooner or later Anyanka,” came the hissing growl of one of the creatures. “We’ll be here to tear out your innards when you do.”

Anya kept going for the kitchen. Buffy shot the bolts back into place before joining her.

“Did you hear that?” Anya’s voice was high with fear. “I can’t believe you let me go back out there.”

“I thought they were gone,” Buffy apologised.

“Well obviously you were wrong.”

“Obviously,” Buffy agreed.

“So now what?” Anya asked, nearing the hysterical mark. “You can’t kill them and we can’t live on cheese sauce and screwdrivers for the rest of our lives.”

“I can so kill them.” Buffy defended her reputation. “You said fire kills them right? So I just have to set them on fire. Do you have any matches?”

Anya’s voice hit a new high. “You can’t set fire to my apartment block! I’ll lose my deposit, and I don’t think they’re going to willingly follow you outside just so as you can put a match to their tails.”

“Anya, calm down.” Buffy put a hand on the other woman’s shoulder and rubbed gently. She hadn’t seen her this freaked since the night they’d all been trapped at her house. Maybe she was a little claustrophobic; Buffy could certainly relate to that. “We will think of something. In the meantime, let’s just relax a little.”

“Yes, relax. We should do that.” Anya took a few deep breaths, but it didn’t work. “Just how are we supposed to do that Buffy? What is your magic cure-all that will make me forget that my mortality is about to come to an ugly end? Huh? Just what do you suggest?”

“Well there’s always…” Buffy pulled Anya in by her shoulder and kissed her.

It was an act of impulse fuelled by the drinks they’d had. It seemed like a good idea at the start and an even better one once Anya reciprocated, wrapping a hand in her blonde hair and sliding her soft tongue into Buffy’s mouth.

A minute or two later reality tapped Buffy on the shoulder and she leaned back, slightly shocked at her own behaviour and even more shocked that her friend was such a good kisser. She’d always assumed that kissing another girl would be, if not gross, then at least pretty unexciting. Either she’d assumed wrong, or Anya was just really good.

Standing still while her mind reeled, Buffy almost jumped when Anya broke the thick silence that had taken over.

“What was that for?”

“Well,” Buffy chuckled nervously. “You were hysterical and I didn’t know how to calm you down, so…” She trailed off, embarrassed that she’d let the alcohol do the thinking, further embarrassed that she couldn’t seem to stop looking at the other woman’s lips as she spoke. She looked away fast.

“You couldn’t just slap me?” The ex-demon touched her lips with her fingertips.

“I didn’t think of that first, but next time, promise, top of my list.” Buffy started to exit the kitchen. She thought about hiding in the bathroom for a bit, but decided that more booze was probably the best way to blot out the last two minutes so changed course for the living room.

She stared out into the dark night through the large window, sipping her cocktail.

“So I guess the ice is broken now.” Anya had come into the living room too, a look over her shoulder showed Buffy she was standing by the couch. “If we were going to have sex, this would probably be the best time to do it.”

Buffy chuckled despite herself. “Is that the fear kicking in again?”

Anya hesitated. “Partly, and partly I just really like your tongue.”

Buffy clapped a hand over her mouth to stop drink spraying across the room until, with difficulty, she managed to swallow it. “Let me get this straight. You want to have sex with my tongue. No I take it back, there is nothing straight about that sentence.” She shook herself and took a deep breath before trying for a reasonable tone of voice. “Anya, we just kissed for like a minute. I don’t know if I want to have oral sex with you, I don’t know if I’d know how to have oral sex with you.”

“Buffy, now who is hysterical? I meant I like your tongue in my mouth. Not that I’m adverse to trying it in other places, if we do decide to have sex, but I think I’d like to work up to that. There are plenty of other things we can do as well.”

“How do you know so much about the birds and the… birds?” she asked, genuinely curious. “I once asked Will what it was like, you know, just in general, and she scribbled down a web address and ran away.”

“You should have gone to Tara; she was much more forthcoming, once you’d gotten past the stuttering of course.”

“Really? I’d have thought Tara would have been worse,” Buffy mused. “Anyway we’re getting off track. The point is…”

“That you want to have sex with me, but you don’t want to admit it. Is that right?” Anya cut her off, stepping closer at the same time. “Would it help if I kissed you first this time?”

“I get the feeling that this is one of those inevitable things that’s just going to happen no matter how much I protest,” Buffy groaned. Finishing her drink she set the glass on the coffee table.

“Well forgive me for saying, but you don’t seem to be doing more than a token amount of protesting, which can only lead me to believe that you are as intrigued by all this lesbian sex as I am.”

Buffy had to admit that the idea of kissing the ex-demon again certainly wasn’t a turn-off, and the other stuff, well it had been a real long time since she’d done other stuff with anyone. Plus they were both single, and it wasn’t like either of them were going into this with stars in their eyes. It was just a bit of girl on girl fun that wouldn’t hurt anyone.

“If we… if we do… do it. It doesn’t leave this room, right?” Buffy asked awkwardly.

“Of course not. This is strictly between us two consenting adults.” The excitement was rising in Anya’s eyes. “When I eventually think Xander deserves to hear the details, I’ll change your name.”

“Uh, thanks,” Buffy said a little dubiously; she had one more little thorn to pull out. “Earlier in the kitchen you said something about falling in love with me because I saved your life. You weren’t serious, were you?”

“Totally, but then you made me go out into the corridor and nearly got me killed again so I don’t think we have to worry about it anymore,” Anya assured her. “Okay, are you ready?”

With a deep breath, Buffy gave a strong: “I guess.”

Anya motioned to her. “Well come a little closer then. Your tongue may be athletic, but you’re not a giraffe.”

Thinking that turning into a giraffe made more sense that what she was about to do with Anya, Buffy took three brisk steps and stopped in front of her anyway. The other woman was a little taller than her and as Buffy tilted her head back their lips were an inch apart, a gap that Anya quickly closed.

It was as nice as the first time and the nervous feeling in the pit of Buffy’s stomach quickly dissolved with the smooth heat building between them. Buffy’s hand gently caressed Anya’s cheek and the other clenched the material of her top into her fist. She felt strong hands circle her waist, stroke up the length of her back and bury themselves in her hair and as she was urged closer she went up on her toes. Breasts brushing against her own was certainly a new sensation, but not an unpleasant one, she decided as she pushed herself more firmly against the other woman.

Anya must have agreed, for the next thing the Slayer knew, her hand had been lifted from the other woman’s waist and placed fully on her ample breast. “Squeeze it,” Anya instructed breathlessly between kisses. “But mind that Slayer strength.”

Buffy giggled a little and did as she was told, although her brain was getting to the point where it wouldn’t need instructions. This was feeling more natural by the second. Dropping her other hand lower, she squeezed Anya’s ass, giggling more when she gave a tiny squeak of surprise.

When Anya, being the more human of the two now, had to break the kiss for a second to breathe, Buffy sucked at the skin where jaw met neck. She was the perfect height for this and Anya tasted so good. Licking over the throbbing pulse beneath caused a shudder from the other woman, so Buffy did it again and again, sometimes harder sometimes faster.

“Wow, you Slayers really do have a neck fetish, don’t you?” Anya panted brokenly into her ear.

Buffy growled a little and grazed the skin with her teeth.

Anya groaned, lifting a leg to try and wrap it around Buffy’s hips. With Buffy leaning into her the way she was, the two suddenly found themselves completely off balance and falling backwards to land hard on the couch.

“Ooof,” said Anya, slightly winded by having the Slayer land on top of her.

“Ooops,” giggled the Slayer. “You okay?”

“Yes, this is much better.” Anya pulled herself more onto the couch cushions and Buffy rolled more on top of her.

“Yeah,” Buffy agreed and kissed her again.

Much squirming on the couch came next as both women grew more excited; their clothed bodies rubbing together just heightening the anticipation of a time when they wouldn’t be so clothed. Like any minute now.

Leaning up, Buffy took in Anya’s slightly dishevelled appearance. Brunette hair splayed across the cushion, shirt rucked up to just below her breasts and sensible knee length skirt riding high on her thighs; she looked pretty damn do-able right now. No wonder Xander had barely come out of his basement during Buffy’s freshman year at college.

With one hand sinking into the soft cushion above Anya’s shoulder, Buffy slid the other up under the silky rose-coloured shirt, scraping her nails over the lacy-textured bra.

Anya smiled up at her, arching her back.

Wriggling a bit, Buffy shifted until her weight was more firmly between the other woman’s legs. She needed something to push herself into, to relieve a little of the throb between her own legs. Anya’s skirt was kind of in the way though. With a flash of genius, the blonde wriggled some more until she had a smooth, bare thigh to softly grind her pussy against.

Their mouths met again, tongues first, and once again the pleasure between them began to build. Buffy snuck fingers beneath the under-wire of Anya’s bra, and was not at all deterred by her first experience of a naked breast in her hand. Anya wrapped her unstraddled leg around Buffy’s hips once again, this time with no danger of falling.

When the subtle grinding turned into almost blatant thrusting, Anya had to drag her mouth from Buffy’s to pant: “I want to make it clear that either answer to this is acceptable, but I have to ask: Buffy do you have a penis you haven’t told us about?”

Shocked into lying still, Buffy stared down at her friend with wide eyes and mouth. “Wha…?”

“It’s a simple enough question,” said Anya breathlessly, reaching up and tucking some hair that had fallen free from Buffy’s ponytail back behind her ear.

“Of course I don’t have a… a penis,” she spluttered. She was starting to think this whole night was just a bizarre dream and if she could look away from Anya’s clear brown eyes for a second she’d probably find the whole senior class of ’99 standing around holding up scorecards. “This wouldn’t exactly be lesbian sex if I had my very own penis, would it?”

Anya wriggled a little beneath her. “It’s just that you seem to be getting aroused.”

Buffy shook her head. “Well I was.”

Unwrapping her leg, Anya squeezed her hand between their bodies and Buffy could feel a slight pressure on her hip. When Buffy still looked blank, Anya moved her hand a little. “Buffy, you have an erection.”

“I do not!”

Only because Buffy was still so flabbergasted with this latest twist, was Anya able to roll them over on the couch. Once on top she got to her knees above the Slayer straddling her waist and quickly unbuttoning her jeans.

“Anya!”

“Oh relax, its not like it’s anything I wasn’t going to see at some point anyway.” Anya knocked Buffy out of the way of trying to hold her jeans closed and slipped a hand inside.

Buffy’s eyes rolled back into her head and she groaned as long, nimble fingers searched her crotch for a dick. “This is ridiculous,” she murmured throatily.

“Well that is strange.” Anya expanded her area of probing.

Buffy tried to refocus on the ex-demon. “I told you.”

“So what were you poking me with then?”

Anya looked very confused, but Buffy felt she was more so. Then, as the other woman shifted her weight again, it all became clear. She smacked her forehead with a palm and dug into one of her pockets.

“Could this be your penis?” she asked, holding up the shaft of polished wood. It had been in her pocket ever since she’d failed to stab the demon with it earlier. She was so used to its presence there that she never took any notice of it anymore.

Anya looked a little disappointed. “Oh, it’s just a stake.” She took it from the Slayer and gave it a good look. Brightening, she started to stroke the wood rather obscenely. “Well, I suppose that could still be fun,” she winked.

“No!” Buffy snatched the stake from her hands and clutched it teddy-bear like to her chest. “It’s Mr. Pointy!”

“So?”

“So, Mr. Pointy’s mission in life is to protect the earth from vampires, not to be your sex toy,” Buffy explained pompously.

“Well technically he’d be our sex toy.”

“Not gonna happen Anya. It would be like letting Mr Gordo watch me masturbate.”

Frowning, Anya asked: “Isn’t that the creepy guy who lives across the road from you?”

“No!” Buffy sat up and Anya slid back to her thighs. “Get up. I don’t really feel in the mood anymore.”

“Yes you do.” Anya leaned in and kissed her.

Buffy kept her mouth closed and shook her head from side to side.

Unperturbed, Anya continued to press their lips together, trying to force entry with her tongue. When Buffy just wouldn’t give in, Anya played dirty and reached up a hand to pinch her nostrils together. Thirty seconds later, Buffy had to open her mouth and before she could protest they were kissing for real again.

Another thirty seconds and Buffy had to use Slayer strength to break the lip-lock. “You can let go of my nose again now,” she said nasally.

“Oh.” Anya did so and Buffy lay back down as she took in some much needed air. “Are you really not in the mood now?”

“You accused me of having a dick. It didn’t exactly turn me on,” Buffy huffed.

“I never accused you. I made it quite clear I didn’t mind one way or the other.”

“Yeah well you got all excited when you thought I had boy parts so now I feel insecure because I don’t. What if I’m not good enough for you?” Buffy joked uneasily.

“Oh don’t be silly Buffy. I’m not going to hold it against you if you don’t give me orgasms.”

“That makes me feel tons better, thanks,” Buffy glared at the ex-demon.

“Don’t mention it.” Anya, obviously thinking everything was settled, used both hands to massage Buffy’s breasts through her shirt.

“I was being sarcastic.” Buffy silently cursed her nipples as they hardened; giving away the fact that she was still way more in the mood than she wanted to be.

Anya frowned ever so slightly and pursed her lips; her thinking face. Buffy watched her, but most of her attention was on the way the brunette’s fingertips started to focus on her puckered nipples.

“Shall I make some more drinks?” the other woman asked eventually. “It’s a fact that alcohol burns away inhibitions. Another cocktail or two and you won’t even care how bad you are.” The gleam in Buffy’s eyes made her back-pedal. “Not that you are going to be bad, but if you were to be, then it wouldn’t matter, would it?”

Letting it go, Buffy nodded. “Good idea. Enough booze should make my ears go all buzzy too, and drown out the noise of you insulting me. It’s a win-win.”

Anya didn’t even appear to be listening as she bounced off Buffy. “Okay, I’ll go and make some more screwdrivers. I won’t be a minute. You can take your clothes off while you wait.” Grabbing the cocktail shaker off the coffee table, she hurried through to the kitchen.

Staring at the retreating ex-demon’s back, Buffy shook her head in mystification. What was she doing here again? Oh yeah, big beasties built like tanks in the hallway. Yeah, but what exactly was she doing here? Sprawled on her friend’s couch, pants undone and nerves tingling, her heart beating faster as Anya’s last words sunk home. Get naked? Like, right now?

Swallowing her uncertainty, the Slayer latched on to what she knew. She was horny and there was someone here who wanted to take care of that for her; someone who was turning Buffy on to an almost dangerous level. She was talking flash floods here or at the very least a trip to the dry-cleaners for the couch cushions.

She was still in the thinking stages of getting undressed when Anya walked back into the room to stand at the foot of the couch. “You still have all your clothes on?” she complained.

Looking up at her, Buffy bit her lip to try and control the growing smile, but it was impossible. Anya stood before her, wearing nothing but a tiny frown. As the Slayer took in her nakedness, the other woman poured them another round of cocktails and set the shaker down again.

“Damn!” Buffy murmured, mostly to herself as she slowly rose to a standing position. “Xander really is, or was, a lucky boy!” she smirked. Moving closer, she unbuttoned her shirt quickly and let it fall away behind her.

“Yes, you be sure to tell him that as often as you can too,” Anya said seriously.

Smiling Buffy pushed her pants down her legs and stepped out of them, she was now right in front of the other woman. Reaching around she unclipped her bra and let that fall too. Their breathing was almost in sync and the underside of Anya’s breasts brushed Buffy’s nipples, encouraging them into firmer peaks and sending little shivers of excitement through Buffy’s already taut-as-hell nervous system.

Placing her hands on Buffy’s shoulders, Anya slowly moved in to kiss her again and Buffy kissed back, their tongues rolling over and around the other’s. Buffy hooked her fingers into her panties and gave them a push too. When they landed at her feet she kicked them away. Anya broke the kiss at the same moment and looked the Slayer over as she caught her breath.

If Buffy hadn’t been staring at other woman’s tits so intently herself she might have been a little embarrassed at the close scrutiny. “Are we really going to do this?” she asked in a quiet voice. She didn’t feel anxious anymore, just a little bewildered by it all.

Anya smiled and ran a hand over Buffy’s butt, making her huff a breath through her nose at the unexpected tingle it caused. “Well we’ll probably never recover from this anyway and it seems a shame to ruin our friendship just for the sake of looking.”

“Good point!” Buffy conceded before giving in to the urge that had been gripping her since they’d been standing toe-to-toe. Lowering herself a little she confidently grasped Anya’s hips, her fingers massaging the smooth soft skin, and flicked her tongue over her rapidly growing nipple. The salty-sweet taste of her skin made Buffy crave even more, so she closed her lips around as much flesh as she could and suckled lightly.

“God Buffy!” Anya gasped. “Don’t you want your screwdriver first?”

Buffy smiled and let the nipple slip slowly from her mouth, her tongue still flicking it a little. “Maybe later. Wanna screw you first,” she muttered huskily, her arousal through the roof now and still rising.

“Okay!” Anya squealed in surprised delight as Buffy pushed backwards and landed them hard on the couch again.

Buffy covered her body instantly with her own; pushing her mound into the apex of the ex-demon’s legs as she hungrily attacked her lips again in a lung-burning kiss. “I’m going to show you just how good I can be,” she stated, still in that low husky growl. Grabbing one of Anya’s hands she pushed it roughly between their bodies, lifting herself slightly with her knees to give them more room. As soon as she felt fingers start to move through her dark curls, Buffy closed her eyes. Simultaneously she swooped back down to lavish more attention on the brunette’s bigger breasts and slid her hand over Anya’s short trimmed mound.

The second her fingers slid into sticky wetness she felt Anya’s hips jerk upwards a little. ‘Wow, score one for Buffy’, she thought light-headedly. ‘Found the clit first time. How come it took Riley so damn long?’ She circled the tips of her fingers around the raised nub, loving the way Anya’s chest was rising and falling faster and faster with each revolution. The other woman retaliated by sliding a long finger, Buffy’d never noticed how long Anya’s fingers actually were, but she could sure as hell feel it now, inside of her.

Arching her pelvis down, Buffy lifted her mouth from Anya’s delicious tits to pant heavily as she slipped her own hand a little further down to enter the other woman with two of her own not quite so long digits.

They were obviously adequate enough for the job. Anya’s voice rose from whimpers to moans and Buffy matched her non-syllable for non-syllable, until they were both covered in slick perspiration and trembling uncontrollably. Their movements became less and less co-ordinated but somehow this just served to stimulate them both further.

As they grappled with each other, more intent on finding their own pleasure right now than the other’s, the slow burn began in the Slayer’s thighs and as her heartbeat picked up in anticipation, she thrust her fingers harder into Anya. She kept up a punishing rhythm, Anya’s eager eyes spurring her on.

Suddenly, with a series of “Oh”s that rose in pitch, Anya got the orgasm she wanted. Pushing her head back into the soft cushion, her hips jerked upwards out of her control and she yelped Buffy’s name.

It sounded loud, and strange and highly erotic to hear her name torn from Anya’s lips like that and it fanned the spark that was already racing through the Slayer’s body. With one final pump of her hips she came; hard. Grunting, she buried her head in Anya’s neck, her lips making contact with hot skin. The hand that wasn’t buried between Anya’s legs reflexively squeezed one of her tits, the nipple rubbing between the knuckles of her index and middle fingers.

With Buffy’s fingers being pushed higher into her as the Slayer had her own orgasm and the massaging of her breast and the warm wet mouth sucking the skin above her racing pulse, Anya came again in shuddering joy.

“Okay. That was good,” Anya announced into the room after several long minutes of the two lying in a breathless, boneless heap.

“Mmmhmm,” Buffy agreed. She lifted her head from the other woman’s shoulder and gave her a short sloppy kiss. Her head then fell back to the comfortable shoulder.

Anya pulled her hand from between them and laid it on the small of Buffy’s back; with her other hand the ex-demon wiped her damp hair from her face so she could look up at the Slayer.

“So what would you like to do now?” she asked.

Buffy stretched a little on top of her. “This is good for right now.”

Anya sounded like she was smirking as she said: “Don’t you want to see if the coast is clear?”

Buffy chuckled. “No I’m pretty sure it’s not. Checking could just be unnecessarily dangerous. Plus it would mean getting dressed, because, you know, getting killed outside your apartment bare-ass naked is gonna raise some eyebrows.”

“Probably,” Anya agreed.

They lay in silence again for another five minutes before Buffy felt fingertips start tracing random patterns on her ass. “Want more?”

Anya sighed. “It’s hard to calm down when our clitorises keep rubbing together.”

With a smirk, Buffy ground herself lightly against the other woman, causing Anya to let out a long breathy moan. “Know what you mean,” she admitted, as the action caused a favourable reaction in her too.

“So what should we do?” Anya asked again.

Buffy smiled. “Well I think we’re ready to move on to the oral now.” She lifted her head to gauge Anya’s reaction.

Thoughtfully nodding her head at the proposal, Anya surprised the Slayer by bucking her off and jumping up. “Have I showed you the bedroom yet? It’s very nice, I decorated it myself. The bed is especially impressive.”

Grinning, Buffy raced after the babbling brunette.


* * *

Buffy had been awake a couple of minutes when the phone rang again. The first couple of times, the two women had been too busy with each other to care and the last few times they’d been asleep.

Buffy thought about answering it now, it might have been someone important, but the warm sunlight coming through the bedroom window and the sweet birdsong just made her feel wonderfully drowsy and ready to enjoy her first lie-in for months. It wasn’t like it was her phone anyway. She pulled the sheet back up and over her shoulder and nuzzled her nose into the crook of her bedfellow’s neck all ready to fall back to sleep.

On the third ring, Anya startled awake. Her head and shoulders lifted from the bed dislodging Buffy. When she realised it was just the phone, she dropped back down with a sigh.

“Are you going to answer it?”

Anya shook her head. “If it was closer I would.”

“What if it’s important?” Buffy didn’t want Anya to get up yet, but now the other woman was awake she was feeling a little like she didn’t know what to say next. If the phone stopped ringing, she’d be speechless.

“It’s probably just the nice man from the insurance company who’s dealing with my Magic Box claim. He’s asked me out a few times.” Anya sniffed. “My reluctance was starting to waver. After all, a girl has her needs.”

“Was?” Buffy rolled on to her side to face her. “You said was.”

Anya smiled smugly at the ceiling. “Yes, well I imagine I’ll be able to put him off for a little while longer now.”

Buffy smiled at the ex-demon. “Is that so? So, on an awkward scale of one to a zillion, how high does this morning-after rate?”

Anya thought about it. “Not as high as I thought it would. Maybe a two or a three. I don’t think I’m in love with you anyway.”

“Well that is good news.”

“And you?” checked Anya. “You’re not in love with me?”

“No, no, definitely no love here,” Buffy assured her. The phone stopped ringing. “I should probably get going soon.”

Anya looked at her, a quick movement. “Oh, okay. Are you sure you don’t want any breakfast first?”

“I, uh, would normally, but I don’t think I could stomach cheese sauce before nine.”

“Another screwdriver then?”

Buffy leaned slowly over and stopped Anya’s offerings with a slow kiss. Her hand under the sheet moved across to rest on the brunette’s breast.

“Maybe later then,” Anya murmured, as her body readily succumbed to the rush of heat Buffy’s circling fingertips brought as they lightly pinched a nipple and moved lower, seeking out the fresh wetness that Buffy’s other senses were already screaming she would find.

Leaving Anya’s lips behind, Buffy trailed her own down the pale, slender neck, across collarbone and down until her mouth replaced her fingertips.

It was different this morning, with the sunlight streaming in, bathing everything in the pretty room in gold, apricot and peach. The birdsong was clear and distinct above Anya’s tiny moans and Buffy’s breathing, which sounded loud and harsh through her nose as her mouth travelled further, below the sheet.

Everything seemed softer, sweeter, this morning. The pace of their screwing the night before had been fast and furious, neither really knowing what they were doing so both just doing what felt good. Now they knew, and Buffy smiled beneath the sheet as she put what they had learnt into practise and Anya responded with eager hips, and hands holding her head, stroking it through the sheet.

There would be no cure for this level of bed-hair badness that was for sure. Maybe when they got up Anya would let her take a shower; maybe they could take a shower together even.

Anya’s verbal appreciation was getting louder so Buffy slowed down what she was doing a little, hoping to draw out her pleasure as long as possible while a part of her mind was already thinking ahead to how good it would feel when Anya was doing this to her under the hot shower spray. Unable to wait and knowing she would in no way satiate herself, Buffy slipped a hand between her own kneeling legs and diddled her clit.

Her own muffled whimpers of excitement mingled with Anya’s and Buffy knew she couldn’t hold either of them off much longer.

Bang, crash, footsteps trampling, scuffling.

What the fuck, had the demons broken in after all? Buffy had believed they couldn’t do that for some reason or else why not do it last night?

Anya had fallen silent except for her harsh panting that she was trying to get under control, but fear was having the opposite effect. She was holding onto Buffy’s head hard, apparently trying to pop it like a grape. “Buffy!” It was a rough confused whisper.

Buffy tried to squirm back up so she could see what was going on and offer her companion some comfort, but Anya really wasn’t letting go of the death grip on her head.

“Why’dya kick the door down? I thought you said you had a bloody key!”

As they both recognised the voice, Anya let go of Buffy’s head, but the Slayer remained frozen; a lump beneath the sheets.

“We don’t have time to bother with keys. Anything could have happened to them.”

“Oh great, the Vikings have landed!”

Buffy would have laughed at Anya’s quietly derisive comment, but she wasn’t so sure this was a funny situation. The last time the four of them had been in a similar situation, things had not been nice.

“Anya, you’re here.” Heavy footsteps thudded to the edge of the bed. “And you’re alive. We were worried something had happened to you, we’ve been trying to call all night. Why didn’t you answer the phone?” Xander asked.

“I… I didn’t feel like it,” said Anya. “And as you can see, I’m not dead, just resting. Yes, I’m very tired, so if you two could just… go away now, that would be good.”

“Yeah, okay, jeez. I’d forgotten what a bear you can be in the mornings.”

“I am not a bear at any time Xander Harris. Don’t let the door knock you on your ass on the way out; and if you get… ohhh…” Anya had sat up as she told Xander off, holding the sheet to her bare chest and inadvertently pushing her pussy against Buffy’s mouth again. It worked to hide the Buffy shaped bulge that no one had seemed to notice yet, but almost threw her off track. “…Uh, eaten by the big scaley lizard things also, then good. Maybe next time you’ll respect my privacy.”

“Okay, okay we’re going, just have you seen Buffy?” The blonde tensed under the covers. “Last night maybe? She didn’t come home and she’s not answering her cell and Spike’s been looking for her all night with no luck. When you weren’t answering your phone we thought maybe she’d come here and D’Hoffryn had paid a visit.”

“Um Buffy? You mean the Slayer, that Buffy. No, I don’t think so…”

Spike sighed impatiently. “Xander,” there was a noise like the slap to the back of the head. “Look.”

“Who?” began Xander. “What? Is that…? Do you have someone under there? We’ve been going frantic all night looking for you and Buffy and you couldn’t be bothered to help because you were doing someone all night? What did you pick up this time Anya, huh? One of your old demon dates? Come on, let’s see it.”

“Harris, you really are an idiot.”

“Shut up Spike! You’re just lucky it’s not you again.”

The clomp of motorcycle boots rang out and the sheet was lifted from the bed in a swift motion, giving neither woman the time to cover up. Especially Buffy, who hadn’t seen what the Vampire was about to do.

“Spike!”

“Morning luv. Have a good night, did you?”

“Buffy?” Xander asked weakly. He could have been asking for confirmation or a denial, it wasn’t clear which.

“Buffy!” Anya clasped her arms over her chest dramatically. “How long had you been under there? Were you hiding from something? You could have woken me first. What if it had killed me on the way to you?”

“Anya!” Buffy shouted, jumping off the bed and snatching the sheet back from Spike to wrap around herself.

“Buffy?” Xander repeated. “As in: Buffy?”

“Oh whatever!” Anya flopped back on the bed, using a pillow to cover herself.

Buffy looked up from Anya, sprawled so invitingly on the bed; an invitation she’d never be able to accept again judging by the dismay etched firmly into her best friend’s tired looking face. Had he really been up looking for her all night just to be rewarded like this?

Finally she looked to Spike, only because it meant not having to look at either of the other two. He gave her a tight smile. Maybe he saw this as payback in a way for when he had been caught in a similarly uncompromising position with Anya. He was wrong though; Spike had been the furthest thing from her mind last night when she’d kissed Anya the first time and all the times after that.

Still holding the sheet with one hand, she scrubbed the other over her face and cleared her throat. “Okay I think the awkward scale needs reinventing to cover this. So I’m just gonna… yeah, go.”

Slipping out of the bedroom Buffy hurried to the living room and gathered her clothes. She dressed quickly, shoving bra and panties into her pockets to save time. Before she was quite ready she heard Spike shout out that he’d wait for Harris in the car and then the front door slammed.

Ready at last, Buffy tried to creep past the open bedroom door, but she couldn’t help but glance in at the silent ex-couple just staring at each other.

Head low, Buffy left the apartment complex and ran for home in tears.

The End.