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Faith was used to nightmares. She had nightmares about her early years with her mother or those terrifying first few months as a slayer. Occasionally, she’d have nightmares about the guys from the Watchers’ Council, or the very rare ones about her time in prison.
Mostly, though, her nightmares were about Buffy. She’d kill Buffy or Buffy would kill her. And she could never quite figure out which one was worse. They’d hunt each other in her dreams, biting, scratching, stabbing, maiming. And Faith would wake up breathless and alone. Always alone.
Faith was used to nightmares. She could deal with them, those few tried and true methods coming to her rescue every time. Waking up alone and frustrated certainly wasn’t new, either. She wasn’t used to company in the aftermath of anything. And she was fine with it. Most of the time.
But then, one night a few months after the destruction of Sunnydale, she woke from a nightmare where she’d cut Buffy clean in half with her fancy scythe thing, and Faith felt like she couldn’t breathe. Her eyes darted around the room desperately, searching for something to anchor herself. Some reminder of where she was, of who she was. She wouldn’t hurt Buffy like that. She wouldn’t hurt anyone like that.
Not anymore.
Faith shot out of bed in a panic and ran for the kitchen, trying not to make too much noise as she went. She didn’t know what she was looking for, but she certainly wasn’t expecting Buffy herself, sitting at the kitchen table and calmly eating ice cream straight from the tub.
Buffy took in Faith’s dishevelled appearance and panicked expression with a casual glance and pushed the ice cream tub in her direction.
“Grab a spoon,” Buffy murmured, before scooping up another mouthful for herself.
Faith took a deep breath as she snagged a spoon from the drawer and sat down next to Buffy. It was better like this, when she could have the reassuring warmth of Buffy’s very much alive body next to her without having to look her in the eye. The images from her nightmare were still a little too fresh in her mind to attempt anything beyond semi-companionable silence.
“Nightmare?” Buffy asked quietly after a few minutes.
“Yeah,” Faith croaked, digging around in the ice cream for some more chocolate chips. “They can get pretty bad sometimes.”
“Yeah, I know,” Buffy agreed easily, sticking her spoon into the tub, and dragging it closer to her. “Do you want to talk about it?”
“Nope,” Faith said decisively, bringing the ice cream closer to her again. “Nothin’ you can say could make it better.”
“Is there anything I can do to make it better?”
“B, are you propositioning me?” Faith asked, a playful glint in her eye. “Not that I’m not flattered, of course, just it’s all so sudden.”
“Shut up,” Buffy said with a laugh. “I was thinking more that we could go patrolling. Work off some of that excess energy, find a real monster you can kill instead of the imaginary ones that haunt your dreams.”
“That’s awfully poetic for so late in the day, Buffy.”
“I’m at my most profound in the middle of the night, Faith,” Buffy said, smiling softly. “I just usually direct it at vampires. So, what do you say? Wanna go kill something with me?”
Faith considered Buffy in silence for a moment, turning in her chair until she was facing her completely. Buffy didn’t look at her, just kept eating, but Faith was sure there was a slight blush creeping up her cheeks.
“You know I’m always up for a fight, B,” Faith said eventually, shrugging as she slipped off the chair. “Maybe we’ll end up so exhausted that I won’t even need to worry about nightmares.”
“And if not, we could always find some other way to distract ourselves.”
“Oh yeah? Like what?”
Buffy shrugged nonchalantly and got up, taking the nearly empty ice cream tub back to the freezer.
“I dunno, we could grab something to eat.” She turned to face Faith again and there was no mistaking the hot blush on her cheeks now.
“Oh yeah? And what might you feel like eating?” Faith said, licking her spoon suggestively.
Faith was impressed that Buffy didn’t back down, instead she sauntered over to where Faith was sitting and leaned in close to her face.
“I’m open to suggestion,” she murmured. “But I feel like I should warn you, I can get pretty hungry after slaying.”
“Yeah?”
“Oh yeah,” Buffy said emphatically. “I’m insatiable. I could eat anything.”
Faith shifted closer to her in grinned, unable to stop herself.
“Should I be flattered or insulted, B? I mean, it doesn’t sound like you’re especially choosy when you’re all worked up.”
“You should be flattered, F. Very flattered.”
“I’ll try to keep that in mind.”
“Good,” Buffy said, allowing her gaze to travel slowly over Faith’s face, lingering a few seconds on her lips, before she looked up again. “Shall we?”
As Faith followed Buffy out the front door, she tried not to think about her nightmares. She tried not to think about what any of this meant or acknowledge how much had changed between them in the few short months they’d been living here together.
And as she watched Buffy yell in triumph after staking a vampire who’d been putting up a good fight, Faith gave up on thinking all together.
“To hell with it,” she said softly and strode up to Buffy, determined.