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By NautiBitz

Info and Author's Notes: See introduction.

Chapter summary: A continuation of One. Buffy and Faith are um, getting to know each other when an old acquaintance makes a surprise visit. (For the purpose of the story, 'Lover's Walk' never happened.)

It's been a long drive back to Sunnyhell.

But it'll be worth it, once Angel's broken down to his chunky little parts.

Sodding bastard. This is all his fault. All of it. Dru wouldn't have got her head in a scramble if it wasn't for him.

Now all I have to do is find the wanker. Shouldn't be hard -- just look for the dark, broody cloud, right?

That is unless that minion was just tellin' campfire stories when he said he saw the Great Poof in the arms of the Slayer... which would mean he's gotten his soul back somehow. That, or the Slayer's gone evil.

Wouldn't that be a picture. I grin at the thought.

A gathering of vampires outside a sleazy drive-in motel catch my periphery. I figure they might give me a push in the right direction.

I pull up into the motel parking lot, and step out of my car.

The vamps don't even notice me. They're too busy... giggling?

"Evening, kiddies."

They stop giggling.

One steps forward, checking me out with a frown. "Spike?" he says finally, and I place him: an old minion of mine and Dru's.

"In the flesh," I say, kicking Dru out of my head.

"Are you... back?"

"For the moment. I'm looking for--"

"The Slayer, right? You'll never believe this." The group chortles again.

"Actually, no--" But I'm suddenly curious. "Believe what?"

"The Slayer's upstairs."


The minion nods eagerly, and they laugh again.

"Oh... you mean she's having it off with someone?"

"Not just anyone."

My jaw clenches involuntarily. "Angel."

"Nope," the minion snickers. "Not Angel."

"Why, the little slut," I say, amused and intrigued now. Who would the naughty Slayer bring to a motel room? The possibilities are limitless. Her watcher, maybe? Now that'd be interesting...

"It's the other one."

"The other what?"

"The other Slayer."

"The other Slayer? But she's dead, mate." Dru. No, not thinking about her.

"A new one."

The implications finally hit me. The Slayer's chuffing a girl! And another Slayer, at that!

This is rich. This I have to see.

"I wouldn't go up there," the minion warns me as I hop up the steps, two by two.

"I can hold my own," I assure him.

They don't have to tell me what room it is. I can already hear her, mewling and panting like a little bitch in heat. And the scent... The musk of two slayers? Powerful enough to knock a lesser vampire out. Surprised I couldn't smell it from the highway.

Edging over to the window, I peer through a bent slat in the vertical blinds.

I still forget I don't have to gasp.

"Holy Christ," I mutter, my hand covering my mouth. The two must've been at this for hours. The whole room is in disarray, the sheets soaked clean through with sweat, all manner of toys strewn about and... the new Slayer is on top.

She's wearing a strap-on and she's downright pummeling Buffy with it.

Is it any wonder that I'm getting rock-hard? I mean, the Slayer -- Buffy -- she's got her mouth open, those plump, shiny lips of hers parted as she begs and encourages without inhibition, her head whipping back and forth on the pillow, her hair stuck to her head, and her legs... her gorgeous legs are hooked around the other girl's lower back, her toes are curling, and now she's announcing her orgasm with one long, drawn out expletive: "FUUUUCK!!!"

I should go. Now. I really should. This isn't what I came here for. And this would be the perfect time to go kill Angel.

But suddenly, that doesn't seem so important.

The new girl is unbuckling her strap-on and flinging it to the floor as Buffy smiles up at her. "Wow."

The girl sits back on her heels. "You like that?"

Buffy idly runs a hand over her own sweat-sheened breasts, squeezing one nipple into a hard little peak. "Big wow."

Oh, hell. I should really go.

"It's fun right? Great fuck, no consequences."

"Major plus," Buffy laughs.

"And it stays up all night," the new girl adds saucily as she lays on her back beside Buffy and helps with the nipple-squeezing.

"Faith?" Okay. Got the name, then.

"Yeah, B?" she asks huskily, haughty.

A tough girl. I see it all now. How it happened. This is too good...

"Let's not ever leave here, okay?"

"Fine by me," Faith says, and turns on the bed, swinging one leg past Buffy's head and settling her own between Buffy's thighs. She rains kisses on Buffy's tanned, silky thighs... and finally that gleaming, open flower of a quim.

Buffy's hands slide up Faith's ass, gently parting the round pads of flesh. Faith hisses.

I can't help but laugh. My little Slayer is eating pussy! They grow up so fast...

Faith sucks in one of Buffy's swollen outer lips, making Buffy's hips rise off the bed, and suddenly my view is blocked by a mass of tumbling jet-black hair.

Their movements become heated, fierce. Their hands are coasting over peaks and valleys. Their bodies are undulating wildly on the bed and all I want to do is go in there and fuck them both to death.

They're doing a pretty good job of it themselves -- but then I've never been particularly selfless.

Faith raises her head as she comes, and I'm fixated on her hot-honeyed mouth, shining with Slayer juices as she calls out, "Buffy!"

I smile and shake my head. Just hearing that. Priceless. Then my eyes lift to hers.

Bloody hell.

She's spotted me.

I spin round, ready to jump off of the railing when I'm yanked off and shoved backward into the motel room with a "Get the fuck in here!"

Buffy gasps, wide-eyed, and does everything she can to cover herself.

Faith has her naked little body pressed against me as she holds a stake to my chest. "Who the fuck are you and what the hell are you doing here?"

"Spike," Buffy says bitterly. "Kill him."

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Title illustration by Mike Segawa
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