#majorlillywhite

Major says, "I wanted to tell you in person.”

                       “What, that you’re a zombie? Yeah, I kinda caught that. What with the whole... brain eating thing. Wasn’t exactly a treat to walk in on. This little chat’s not gonna make a difference. You know that.”

                   “A couple miles, mostly older graves. Don’t usually see a lot of action, there.” she’s restless. Hard to focus on the job when it’s so damn quiet. Peaceful, even. Truth is? Faith’s not really built for peace and quiet. As Slayers go, Faith’s a straight-up two-stroke. Runs on all forty-eight cylinders. Born to cause a damn ruckus but when there’s nowhere to point that energy, it gets under her skin.

She’d love to not be teaching school right now. Nothing against Lilywhite, he’s an actual muffin. Sweeter to her than she’s got any right to expect but spending time in her world means pain and blood. Vampires. He’s got to learn the ropes, she’s just not keen on teaching them, “Job’s hard but it’s not complicated. Not usually, anyway. Wood through the heart, sunlight, holy water. Fire, beheading... you sure you’re up for this?”

                   “Already smashed your fine ass like it was a LIKE button. Be down for another go, so long as we both get what this is.”

Major says, “ Did I do anything last night that suggested I was sane? ”

               “I get you think you’re bein’ real funny right now,” not that Faith’s ever been one to shy away from using humor to mask fear or lighten the mood, but Lilywhite’s habit of playing fast and loose with his own survival is starting to wear on her nerves. She pushes scrambled eggs around her plate with the bent tines of a cheap fork and glances at him a little sideways, taking up space beside him in a booth at some truck stop or other, East of a town she’d never been to until they were ambushed in a cornfield the night before, “Scared the hell outta me last night. It’s like you got a death wish.”

“I hope that was a good ‘wow’ and not an, ‘oh my god, I didn’t know you were a freak and I’ll be blasting you on Instagram later’-wow.” he sighs as he contentedly draws his fingertips across her back, “Even my hair is relaxed.”  @vampiresarecreeps​

            Buffy laughs quietly, a short huff of air out her nose that was barely perceptible. She watches her fingers as they lightly tap their way down his bare chest, occasionally stroking at the skin, “Mmm, you were great. Really. Color me content.”

"I know you're scared. Let's face it... love hasn't been kind to either of us. I'm scared, too but I will never lie to you."

                Buffy’s standing at the foot of the bed, glancing down at Major who’s sat upon freshly made sheets with no evidence of last night’s heavy foreplay session on them. She’s both watching and listening to him intently, their eyes locked in shared understanding.

She appreciates the way he goes out of his way to emphasize with her. Any woman entering her fourth decade with Buffy’s stellar dating history to boot would share her same level of apprehension and uncertainty, but the way this man consistently tries to ease, comfort, reassure her? Total turn on. 

                She smiles tenderly and moves one baby step closer towards him. This whole turning forty deal and living to tell the tale was kind of unheard of and record breaking in the world of Slayers, but having a pair of hands and arms like Major’s to wrap around her at night - ones that knew how to push all the right buttons to encourage and get her to go for this. Well, that was just an extra Buffy Summers bonus.

So in the spirit of celebration she’s trying out this new thing whereby she throws caution to the wind in exchange for a little life living (the kind without constraints or punishing really great guys due to her own lousy track record). She’s earned it. 

                                They both have.

Buffy makes room and wedges herself between Major’s legs. She reaches for his hands and tangles their fingers together, her lips playful and pouty, “Pinky swear?”