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The Three of Us	By : crash Category: -Buffy the Vampire Slayer > FemmeSlash - Female/Female > Buffy/Faith Views: 37107 -:- Recommendations : 1 -:- Currently Reading : 2
Disclaimer: I do not own Buffy the Vampire Slayer (BtVS), nor any of the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
- 38
- 39
- 40
Faith rolled over and watched the second hand, of Mrs. Summers wind up traveling alarm clock, tick toward 3:00 am. The glow of the irradiated face cast a green pallor across the seat of the fold up chair it was perched on. She sighed and closed her eyes, trying to will herself to sleep. The clock sounded louder as it continued to tick. Her eyes opened and she rolled onto her back staring up at the wires running between the joists. ‘What a weird coupla days,’ she muttered to herself. ‘A freaky ass dream, coffee, a lunch and now I’m livin’ in B’s basement.’ she blinked a couple of times as different memories started to rattle through her brain. Images of her and Buffy in the graveyard listening to Finch tell his story. Holding hands for support on the way home while they talked about what to tell Giles. A groan issued from her throat at the thought of what they were going to have to tell him about the dream. The facts that they had almost killed Finch and that the Mayor might be over a hundred years old, bounced across her brain. From the conversation they’d overheard, he was well connected in the underworld, and Kakistos had something he needed.
She rolled over, away from the clock this time. Her arm tucked up under her head, trying to cushion the thin pillow underneath. Yeah, Mrs. S, said they were going to get her some real furniture on the weekend, but she wasn’t holding her breath. That was something she’d heard before, and it hadn’t come true yet. She flopped over on her back again, she needed to relax. She couldn’t go out and find something or someone to ‘relax’ with; she guessed she’d have to take matters into her own hand. A small smile crept across her face as an image of Cordelia settling into the chair in the library formed in her mind. The memories of hearing the whisper of silk clad thighs rub against each other as they crossed. The tip of that pink tongue when it darted out to moisten those full lips. Her hand slid across the flat expanse of her stomach and ran along the underside of her breasts. An image of Buffy in the shower at Cordelia’s apartment in L.A. appeared. She thought she could feel the soft texture of her skin when her dream self wrapped her arms around the blonde and pulled her into a kiss. Her lips tingled at the memory and her own tongue peeked out to wet her lips. Charging into Cordelia’s room when they heard her scream. The sight of the brunette sliding off the silk brocade pajamas to reveal the treasures underneath. A tiny groan emanated from her lips at the memory of Cordelia moving across the room to join them on the bed. Her hand had moved up to her breast, the nipple hardening when her finger tips grazed across it.
The water in the shower was acting as a lubricant when her fingers tugged on Buffy’s nipples, the remembered groan bringing forth another one from her. Faith’s right hand left goose bumps in its wake heading down her toned stomach toward her dampening core. The softness of Cordelia’s hair when she held it in her hands as the brunette suckled at her breast. Her fingers circled her clit when she thought of the look on Cordelia’s face when Buffy’s tongue had entered her. The fullness when Cordy’s fingers slid inside of Faith came to mind as her own fingers caressed her entrance. She plunged her fingers in when the memory of her straddling Cordelia appeared in her mind. The slick feeling of their soaked pussies grinding together dragged a guttural moan from deep in her chest. Other images from the dream flitted back and forth across her closed eyes while her fingers pumped in and out of herself. Her other hand was busy tugging on her nipples and squeezing her breasts. Small sparks of electricity ran across her skin from her connection to Buffy. Being so close seemed to make everything else feel so much more intense. She could feel her climax building, her ragged breathing interspersed with moans.
Buffy woke with a start, her eyes blinking furiously to bring the darkness of her room into focus. After a moment she realized it was her slayer hearing that had awakened her. She strained to hear the noises that had interrupted her sleep. Closing her eyes, concentrating on the moans and groans. A slow realization crept across her brain, the noises were coming from the basement, ‘Faith must be having a bad dream,’ she thought. Reaching out and grasping the edge of the quilt, she threw it off of her body, ‘I should go check and see if she’s alright.’ Standing up she moved to the door and checked the hallway. Her mother’s and sister’s doors were still closed; the noises were quieter out here. Silently she snuck down the stairs and through the kitchen. She paused at the door her hand out stretched, hovering above the knob. There was a confused look on her face, it felt like there was a breeze ruffling her skin, ghostly hands trailing across her breast, her nipples hardened at the sensation. The grunts she had heard earlier were too rhythmic to be a dream. A guttural moan caused a tingle to run down her spine. Her knees squeezed together on their own when she heard another one. Her breathing fell into step with the sounds from below. Her eyes widened and she snatched her hand away from the door when she realized what Faith was doing. ‘Oh My God!’ she screamed to herself, ‘What if I’d gone down there?’ Her breath rasped in her throat as she took a half step back, her mind was telling her to go back upstairs, but her body wasn’t listening. Warm tingles swept across her stomach and down her legs like a warm caress. She took another step back and leaned against the wall. Her eyes drifted shut and she lost herself in the feeling that engulfed her. She clenched her fists and curled them toward her thighs when a deep tremor rumbled through her. Her fingers splayed open at the sound of another groan from downstairs. Buffy could feel the sweat on her palms, her skin felt scorched at the contact of her palms on her thighs. She looked down expecting to see burn marks on her flannel bottoms where her hands had made contact. The thin tank top she wore was starting to stick as her body responded to what Faith was doing in the basement. Her eyes snapped open, ‘Shit!’ she swore, ‘If I can feel her, then...’ her thoughts trailed off. She bolted up the stairs three at a time and flew into her room. She closed the door and leaning against it sank to the floor. ‘What the hell was I thinking?’ ran through her mind. A small smile appeared on her face, ‘Of course she may have been distracted a little and didn’t notice that I was closer.’ A laugh disguised as a snort escaped from her, ‘Yeah, right,’ she sighed, ‘Even I don’t believe that one.’ Shaking her head, she slowly stood and moved toward her bed.
Faith’s two fingers were coated in her wetness as they plunged in and out of her soaked pussy. More images from the dream passed through her mind, naked bits of flesh and sweat pressed together in a searing heat. Whispers of breath, mingling moans and grunts, while she watched the memories of the three of them. Tightness started to form in her belly; she pushed down on her clit with her palm, urging herself on. Her thoughts suddenly concentrated on being in the shower with the blond slayer. She remembered watching Buffy step into the shower and wrapping her arms around her. The heat from their first kiss seemed to turn the spray into steam. For a few moments, Faith almost felt as if Buffy was actually in the room with her. She shook her head and added pressure to her throbbing clit. She was so close, her breath was short and her body ached for the release.
Buffy had crawled into bed and pulled the covers up to her chin. She closed her eyes and images of Faith in the basement leapt to the front of her brain. Her eyes snapped open, ‘I so don’t want to be thinking about that!’ her mind yelled at her. ‘I should think about sheep,’ she was staring at the ceiling. ‘Soft fluffy sheep jumping over a fence in a nice sunny meadow,’ she snorted again. ‘Maybe soft sheep with long dark hair; well toned forearms...’ she let out a large breath and closed her eyes. She rolled over onto her side, she groaned as the covers dragged across her sensitive nipples. She could still feel the ghostly whispers of someone’s hands caressing her skin. With a sigh, Buffy rolled over onto her stomach, trying to get comfortable. A frustrated moan escaped from her lips when her breasts rubbed against the firmness of the mattress. She flopped over onto her back again and stared up at the ceiling. ‘This just sucks,’ she whined to herself, ‘I just have to ignore her and get some sleep.’
Faith’s fingers moved in and out, coated in her wetness, pumping faster, striving for her orgasm. Her breath rasped in and out of her lungs when the palm of her hand pressed down on her aching clit. The images from the dream were flying past her eyes now. Buffy, Cordelia, and herself intertwined, naked heat scorching the air. Her hips bucked against her hand, and her mind exploded as she came. A long guttural moan crept out from between her lips as she rode the waves. Slowly she opened her eyes, and pulled her hand from herself. A smirk appeared upon her face, while the remaining tingles faded away. Rolling onto her side, the smirk turned into a satisfied smile. ‘That was better than usual,’ she thought. She shuffled around and made herself a little more comfortable, ‘I wonder if bein’ in the same house as B helps? I’m thinkin’ that livin here ain’t gonna be so bad.’
Buffy bolted upright and gasped when she felt a surge of energy through her connection to Faith. The blond’s heart raced with the sparks running along her nerve ends. She took a breath to calm herself, ‘Well that seems to have concluded successfully,’ she moaned to herself. She lay back down on the bed and rearranged the bedclothes around herself. ‘I really hope I can get some sleep now,’ the disbelieving snort, her own answer.
Buffy watched the minutes on her clock change in the slow crawl to when the annoying buzz was going to go off. The dryness in her eyes told her what the rest of her body already knew; sleep was something that hadn’t happened. She tapped the snooze button and rolled onto her back, she closed her eyes and wished for ten minutes of sleep at least. Images from the dream interspersed with what Faith was doing crept into her brain. She stared at the ceiling waiting for the alarm to go off again. ‘I can’t let her know I know what she did last night,’ she lectured herself. ‘I just have to act all cool and not knowing and everything will be ok. Nobody will know,’ she sighed. ‘Even I don’t believe myself.’ She tossed the covers off and got up. Standing in front of her mirror, she scrutinized herself. “Nobody will notice I look like I haven’t slept all night,” she muttered to herself.
Buffy trudged toward the kitchen, casting a furtive glance at the closed basement door. “Morning,” she mumbled at her sister before she opened the fridge. Pulling out the orange juice, she plonked it down on the counter, and reached for a glass from the cupboard. It wasn’t till she had poured her own glass and turned to look at Dawn, that she noticed her sister hadn’t moved. Dawn was standing in front of the sink; her own juice raised half way to her mouth, staring out the window. “Dawn?” Buffy queried. Her brows furrowed when there was no response. She slowly approached the young teen, “What are you looking at?” She could tell her sister was breathing, but Buffy knew there was nothing that riveting in the yard. She had been through it at all times of day or night and there was just nothing that interesting, or at least not until this morning.
She looked out the window and saw Faith, standing in the sun and slowly moving her arms in front of her. Her hair was pulled back in a loose pony tail and it swayed behind her as she stepped through her moves. She was wearing a tight white tank top and a short pair of cut-off sweats. Buffy’s movement stopped and she stared out the window next to her sister. “God, she looks good,” she whispered.
“Got that right,’ Dawn muttered. She looked at the blonde, “What happened to you?”
“Huh?” Buffy’s brow furrowed, “Nothing, what are you talking about?”
“You look like you got dragged through the mud last night,” Dawn turned to look out the window again.
“Oh,” Buffy paused. “I, uh, I didn’t sleep well.”
Dawn snorted, “Obvious, much?”
Buffy pushed her sister’s shoulder, Dawn yelped in surprise.
“Stop right there,” Joyce commanded from the doorway. “What are you looking at?’ she asked striding up to the window.
“Oh,” she blinked. The three of them watched Faith for a few moments. “What is that?” Joyce whispered.
Dawn shrugged, “Dunno.”
Buffy tilted her head to the side, “It looks like some kind of really slow martial art.” She watched for a few more moments. “Yeah,” she muttered, “I remember from the dream, she taught me and Dawn Tai Chi.”
“Dream? What dream?” Dawn leaned forward and stared at her sister.
“The two of them shared a dream,” Joyce interrupted, “That’s why we had Faith move in here.” She paused for a second, “Maybe if you ask nicely she will teach you.” She turned from the window, “I’ll start breakfast, and you have to get ready for school.”
Dawn gulped the last of her juice and slammed her glass on the counter. “First shower!” she yelled as she ran for the stairs.
“Don’t take too long!” Buffy called after her retreating form.
Joyce glanced at her eldest daughter, “Didn’t sleep well?” she asked quietly.
“Yeah,” Buffy was watching Faith through the window again.
“Anything important?” Joyce stopped buttering the toast, and looked at her. The only movement in the room was Buffy’s eyes following Faith. “Buffy,” Joyce spoke a little louder, “I asked if it was anything important.”
“Huh?” the blond jumped, “Oh!” she blinked and blushed slightly. “Sorry, I was, umm, I was…”
“Distracted?” Joyce smirked at the slayer.
The blonds cheeks reddened, “I don’t know why, but sometimes when I watch her, everything else just fades.” Joyce watched her daughter for a moment. Buffy turned toward her, “Last night, on patrol,” she started. A sigh, “we met this guy and he told us to look into the Mayor.”
“The Mayor?” Joyce turned to face Buffy. “What did he say about the Mayor?”
“Just that we need to look into him. We also saw the Mayor talking to a guy in a car, and Faith is fairly certain he’s the advance man for that Chiquita’s guy.” She snatched a piece of toast off the plate, “So we’re going to go in early and talk to Giles.”
“That’s a good idea.” Joyce’s brow was furrowed. “I wonder why the Mayor would be involved with …” her voice trailed off.
“Somebody, like, from the dark side?” Buffy asked. She shrugged, “Well, he is a politician.”
Joyce blinked at her, “I was really hoping you wouldn’t get that cynical until your mid-twenties, at least.”
“Yeah,” she smiled at her mom, “But I’m a fast learner.” She looked up at the ceiling, “Dawn’s out of the shower, I guess it’s my turn.”
“Okay,” Joyce said to the blonds disappearing back. She shook her head as she turned back to making breakfast.
“Hey, Mrs. S,” Faith said when she walked into the kitchen.
Joyce turned and handed her a plate. “Here, I suppose you’re hungry?” Faith nodded as she started to eat. “Buffy tells me you’re going to see Mr. Giles this morning.”
Faith swallowed, “Yeah, we picked up some info for the tweed brigade last night.” She shovelled some more food into her mouth.
“Do you think the Mayor is involved?”
Faith nodded and swallowed, “Yeah, it looks like it.”
“Well,” Joyce looked away for a moment, “Just be careful,” she looked back at the dark haired girl.
“No prob, Mrs. S,” Faith shrugged, “I’ll look after B for ya.”
“I mean both of you.” She turned away from the stove and crossed her arms over her chest. She stared at the brunette for a few moments. Faith’s eyes darted around the kitchen before settling on her plate. “Faith,” Joyce said quietly, “Look at me.” She waited till the slayer’s eyes met hers. “You’re right,” She spoke as she moved to the table and sat across from her. “I do want you to look out for Buffy,” she folded her hands on the table in front of her. “I also want her to look out for you,” Faith slowly started to move her chair back. “No, you sit there ‘til I’m finished. We are only having this conversation once young lady.”
Faith peered back over her shoulder, “Young lady? There someone else here?”
Joyce smiled, “Nice try, it’s not going to work.” She sighed and watched the nervous girl in front of her for a moment. “I want you to understand what your being here means to me.”
“Yeah, I get it.” Faith looked down at the table again. “I’m s’posed ta look out for B’ cuz I’m the second slayer. Don’t worry Mrs. S, I’ll keep her safe.” Faith pushed her chair back and stood.
“No!” Joyce barked. She pointed at the chair, “Sit,” she commanded. Wide eyed, Faith dropped back into the chair and pulled it forward slightly. “Is that what you think I think of you? That you’re second class? That you’re not as important as Buffy?”
Faith shrugged, “She’s your daughter, what’d ya expect?”
“My God, Faith,” Joyce whispered, slowly shaking her head. “That is not even remotely close to the truth.”
Faith stared at her, “Then enlighten me.”
“Fine,” Joyce said frostily, “ I will.” She took a deep breath, “My daughter is a Slayer. She fights vampires, demons, whatever mean, nasty things crawl out of Hell, she has to deal with.” Faith sullenly crossed her arms over her chest. “Until that other girl came along, she was the only one.” She paused for a second, “That other girl was called because my daughter died. You were called because she was killed.” She stared hard at Faith, “My daughter died, and every night she goes out there, she may not come back. Every night you go out there, you may not come back. That scares the fuck out of me every goddamn day.” Faith jumped when she slapped her palm down on the table. “No matter how hard I try, I have no idea what she has to deal with. For so long she’s had to deal with everything by herself. Now you’re here. She has somebody who understands everything. Somebody who gets it all. Not just the slaying, but the responsibility, the stress, everything. I thank God for you every chance I get. It gives me hope because she has somebody to help her that’s just as good, and just as determined to save the world as she is.” Faith shrunk down in the chair as Joyce stared at her. “I’m insulted that you think that of me.” She looked away for a moment, sighing she turned back to the girl. “When I told you in the car, that you deserved a place where you felt safe, where you didn’t need to worry about a roof over your head, or where your next meal was coming from? That’s why I said those things. To me, you’re a gift from the angels, and I’ll do everything I can to help you.” A small tear trickled down Joyce’s cheek, “You’re not second best Faith, you’re strong, you’re smart, and you’re a slayer. I want you to look after Buffy, and I want her to look after you. Together, you will be a force to be reckoned with.” She took a napkin and wiped the tears from her eyes, “Now go get showered and changed. Buffy said you had to go in and see Mr. Giles this morning.” Joyce stood, picked up Faith’s plate and turned to the sink.
“I’m sorry,” Faith said as she stood, “I never meant…”
“That’s enough Faith,” Joyce turned to her, “I’ve explained myself and I hope you understand.”
“Yea,” Faith was looking at the floor again. “But that don’t mean I’m not sorry for actin’ like that.”
Joyce turned and looked at the girl. She watched her look nervously around the kitchen, “Faith?” she asked quietly. Faith looked up at her with guarded eyes, “I don’t understand why you’d think you’re not appreciated. Something tells me it’s in your past, if you want to talk about it, I’m here to listen.”
“Uh,” her mouth dropped, and she started to chew on her bottom lip.
“Not today, Faith,” Joyce continued. “If and when you feel like talking about it, just remember I’m here for you.”
“Thanks, Mrs. S,” she pushed her chair out and stood. “It means a lot.” She sighed and looked out into the yard, “I’m gonna go get cleaned up and head out with B.”
Joyce nodded, and turned back to the sink, “You’re welcome, dear.”
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The Three of Us