TITLE: "ROMAN HOLIDAY"

RATING: R, but with sex.

WARNING: Un-Beta'd! And! Shameless Pimping of the fabulous country of Italy... just so's ya know.

PAIRING: Buffy/Faith

SPOILERS: All of BtVS and AtS up to 5.19. I changed the name of the Immortal to the name of the original Immortal; Dorian Grey.

DISCLAIMER: I own NOTHING, not even the title of the Fic, its barrowed from an old movie with the 'Breakfast At Tiffanies' woman in it. All BtVS and AtS characters belong to Joss and his cronies, along with WB, Fox, UPN, and anyone else that might have a crack at them. The name Dorian Grey belongs to someone who's not me and whom I don't know.

DEDICATION: To the wonderful Dallas for her birth-day, this is for you, as LTFF seems to have died on me. Hope this doesn't fall too short of your liking, though it might not be Birds Of Prey. =)

SUMMERY: Faith gets sick of life with Wood and is hired as a 'Special Correspondent' to the New Counsel. When an assignment takes her to Rome, she realizes that not just the weather is hot in Rome.

.

"Roman Holiday"

Chapter One: Wet. Sweat. Heat.

Faith hated planes. She didn't like flying; that's why she always bused it places. But sometimes, you have to fly. Taking a bus to Rome from home would have been difficult, to say the least. 'Home,' she thought to herself as she pulled her rolling carry-on down the center of the plane, 'What the fuck is home anymore?'. She's seen the world these past few months, and most of what she'd seen of it wasn't terribly pleasant. As she cleared the door of the aircraft and the woman said something to her in Italian, the air coming from the out-side of the air-port hit her like a wall.

It was HOT. Very hot, a lot hotter than she ever would have expected it to be in late May. She'd never been it Italy before, all she'd seen of European summers was England. Hell, Canada was hotter in summer than England, Iceland too, probably. But this? This she hadn't expected. Now suddenly finding herself trudging through an air-port with almost no signs in English, she began to worry. Following an American family through the air-port who seemed to know their way, she was quickly lead to customs.

The lady behind the small desk was clean-looking, crisp and smiling. 'This definitely isn't an American Customs office.' Faith told herself. The woman smiled, said Bonjurno, and asked to see her Passport. Faith begrudgingly took it out and showed the woman, who typed in some things and saw the disgusted look on Faith's face.

"Do not worry," she said kindly, speaking very good English but with a deep Italian accent, "I have seen much, much worse. Besides, you'war beautiful – multo bella!" she said chuckling kindly and smiling at the brunette. 'Is she hitting on me?' she wondered, but shook it off as the woman asked her a question.

"You are here in pleasure, or business?" she asked, flipping through her records to check for anything that might need her to deport the woman. Faith worried about Willow's thoroughness of altering her records, and grunted.

"Business." Again, the woman chuckled as she stamped Faith's passport.

"Yes, well, be sure to have pleasure with your business." She handed the small blue booklet back to Faith. "Enjoy your stay in Rome; the City Without Age." The woman even shook her hand. Faith smiled back and put her passport away, pulling her bag over to the next station to be rummaged through.

After the woman at the next station simply laughed upon seeing the stake in her bag and her bottles of Holy Water, she realized this was no America. The woman told her she was 4 years too late, and again, Faith was confused.

"For the Opening Of The Doors!" she said excitedly as she gently squeezed her toiletries bag, "You will have to another 21 years for that, Donna." Faith looked confused.

"My name's Faith." She said solidly as the woman even refolded her clothes for her and put everything back as she'd found it, still smiling and laughing.

"No, no ,no – Donna. It means, Madam, yes? Miss, in English? Va bene?" Faith thought she understood, but what the fuck did 'Va Bene' mean? Faith just nodded, a little skeptic, and pulled her bag off the table to leave. "Ciao!" she woman called as the next woman came to her table. Faith followed a bunch of missionaries out of the smoldering air-port until she saw the exit doors for herself. Once the sliding doors opened, and Faith realized the terminals had been air-conditioned, she nearly started crying.

"Note to self," she whispered to herself as she got in line for a taxi, "Leather pants in Rome – Bad Idea." As she waited a TV screen behind one of the desks in the terminal told the news of the day in about 20 languages. When the English version came around she read what she cared about. There were several small traffic-jams along some of the streets of the city, and for the 37th summer in a row, the post-force was on strike, so most local letters would take a week to deliver and international ones might take up to a month due to the shortage of workers. And, to top it all off, it was 95-degrees of dry heat; no humidity. It was like baking in a brick oven.

A bunch of kind Russian boys saw how hot faith was and offered her their cab, which she took gratefully, all the boys behind her smiling and waving at her as she left. She leaned back in the cab as the man started down the street, enjoying the freezing-cold inside the cab. The man said something to her in Italian, she assumed asking here where she wanted to go, and so faith started digging through her purse.

"Uh, Via Dell'Orso," she said, though very American she realized as the man smiled at her in the mirror, "Near there – uhh . . . Pizza Nay-vo-nah, I think that says." She'd butchered it, she knew, but she'd never had to read anything in Italian before. The man repeated it a few times as he navigated them out of the air-port, probably trying to get her to say it right, but right then she didn't care. She was a leather-crusted-jet-lagged-ignornate-American, and right then she didn't give a shit.

"Ayh! Donna Bella!" she man said as she honked the horn, "Via Dell'Orso." He said simply. Faith nodded, and looked at the price of the cab ride. She had NO idea what it was worth in dollars, but it seemed pretty cheep in Euros. Handing him some money, the man gave her change, and when she tried to tip, he simply raised a finger and said,

"Repeato; 'Pee-ah-tza, Nah-Voe-Nah'. Sei?" Faith smiled and repeated it perfectly. He smiled, "Ah, bellicimo! Now – you never lost, eh?" Faith nodded, and thanked the man. She got her stuff and stepped onto the curb. The cab took off honking, the man waving back to her. Faith just smiled. She may not understand a word of what these people were saying most of the time but – DAMN! They sure were nice!

"435 Via Dell'Orso..." she said slowly, looking at the mailboxes, "Where you at?" she mumbled. Realizing she had to walk about a block, she started walking. In front of Cafés there were elegantly dressed waiters like out of some cartoons, little mustaches and toweled arms included. But, in front of the church was a old, walnut-looking woman dressed in shawls and hugging a baby to while babbling in Italian while two shoeless children danced for coins on the steps. She watched as a priest came out and asked them to leave, and none-too-gently. He called them Gypsies, and all faith could think was 'That's not kind of Gypsy Demi Moore played in that Disney movie, that's for damn sure.'

As she came upon the apartment of 435, and saw a boy run out with a back-pack on his back, she quickly caught the door. Inside, marked on the post-box, was 'Summers', CC. Making her way up to the third floor, and looking for the door marked CC, she soon found it unlocked, and even slightly open. Taking a deep breath and running a hand through her hair to try and fit what the heat was doing to it, wiping at her brow with her arm to rid it of the sweat that'd appeared there with her short walk in the heat, she tried to prepare for what she was about to do. She knocked.

"Carlo! I'm coming!" Came Dawn's voice laughing but impatient. Faith frowned but pushed the door open to reveal herself. "Carlo – just wait! The bus won't leave without us, so chill-out! – " then the girl looked up. Wow. She'd grown. She must have been a good couple inches taller than Faith now even. Long-N-Lean as ever, but as ever, in Faith's eyes, Buffy's kid sis. "Oh My God!" She yelled excitedly as she charged Faith for a hug. Faith chuckled and hugged her back.

"Hey Kiddo; surprised?"

"Yeah! What the hell are you doing here?" she asked, taking her hand and pulling it like she had when she was younger. "I thought you were back in the US again? Working with the Counsel mostly?" Faith nodded, and just as she was about to elaborate, she saw that Dawn was in the middle of packing a suitcase about twice the size of hers.

"Going somewhere?" Faith asked, and Dawn's face made a number of expressions in succession. First it was shock, then sadness, then she bit her lip and glanced from her bag to faith and back again. "You not running away are you?" the girl just laughed and went back to hurriedly shoving things in her bag.

"Not really. I signed up for this class a few months ago; Art Restoration Training; and we're going to Florence for two weeks to work on some of the art there." she suddenly looked up, her expression sad, "You're not gonna be here when I get back, are you?" she sounded really disappointed, but Faith nodded.

"Yeah, only here for 5 days, kiddo. Wish I could spend some time with you though, when do you leave?" Dawn quickly zipped the thing up and pulled it behind her as she stood in front of Faith.

"The bus was supposed to leave 5 minutes ago. I think Carlo is asking them to wait." She said all of it slowly, though her body-language seemed like she was in a rush to leave. It was obvious she wanted to stay but she knew she had to leave. 'Been there' Faith thought. "I want you to call me when I get back, alright? I feel like I haven't spoken to you in ages . . ." she had that look again, like she was trying to convince herself of something, going or staying, and right now she was trapped in the middle. "I wish I could stay . . ." she said, apologetically.

"You are NOT staying!" came a voice from the next room as the shower stopped. "This trip has been all you've talked about for the past month and I won't listen to you talk about how much you wished you'd gone for the next month as well." At that, Buffy walked in, wrapped in nothing but a towel, her hands in her hair, trying to dry it. The only think the blonde seemed surprised about what who Dawn was talking to, though the idea of Faith being in Rome let alone in her house seemed to be no shock at all. She turned to Dawn.

"Go, have a great time, I'll call you later after dinner." Dawn nodded, gave Faith a short hug, and then sped out the door, slamming it behind her. Buffy crossed her arms high over her chest and simply waited. For what, Faith wasn't sure, and didn't really care. It seemed that Italian Towels were considerable smaller than American ones. They looked good on Buffy. "So?" the blonde finally asked.

"So, By Order of The New Watchers Counsel of England, I have been sent here to review – "

"I know why you're here Faith." She said flatly, almost bored. "I'm head Slayer of the Counsel, and as such privy to more information that even you. Like, for example, you're title at the counsel. Special Operations and Situations Advisor. 'S.W.A.T. Slayer', right?" Faith nodded, and Buffy continued, her face hard and her voice bored. "And you're here to review my recent relationships and activities that the Counsel has concerns with." Again, she nodded. Buffy sighed, and sat on her couch, legs tucked up under her. "Alright, just so we're clear." Faith sat down on the couch opposite and looked at the blonde. You could take the Slayer off the Hellmouth, but a part of it will stay with her, that's for sure.

"Now, correct me if I'm wrong, but doesn't the standard review consist of a trip through the ether care of Willow-Air-International, and three days spent examining and interviewing the subject?" Faith nodded. "Then why did your file say you'd be FLYING in and why are you gonna be here for FIVE days?" Faith just sort of smiled and chuckled.

"I hate flying." She said casually, "I hate flying in planes but compared to flying through the ether, I'll take British-Airways any day! Besides." She said a little more gruffly, "I've had a few rough assignments recently. I thought maybe you could show me a good time... once we get some of this business out of the way." Buffy just shook her head, but slowly – ever so slowly – Faith noticed her expression change to a smile. Though it was obvious that Buffy didn't want it there.

"Alright. I think I could be up for that." Faith smirked, wondering if Buffy was agreeing to both sides of Faith double-entendre. "So, what have you been up to?" Buffy asked, sounding mildly interested.

"Well, my last assignment nearly killed me. Literally. I had been sent to Israel to pick up two new slayers. And, as fate would have it – in the story of my life – they both lived on the West bank. Well, I've got one, and I'm trying to find my contact in the Israeli military to show me where the other one is. And, of course, the other one is Palestinian. I've got two girls, 14 and 16, opposite sides of a war that's been raging for over 50 years, in many cases dating back hundreds of years long before that, and they're both bickering in languages I can't understand." Faith sighed. Buffy smiled and asked what happened next.

"Well, we get to a section on the Gaza Strip so we can get picked up and taken out of there, and the older one, the Israeli, starts speaking to me in English. She tells me it isn't safe here, like I don't already know this, and then she starts calling the other girl names, saying mean things, and the other girl starts hitting her, and then they get into this fight just as our car arrives to take us out of there. then, out of nowhere, fighting breaks out – and the girls are still fighting! Guns going off everywhere, and they're still yelling and bickering. It was a lot easier keeping the girls separated when they weren't as strong as us, that's for damn sure. Lucky we got them back to England."

"Have you heard from Mona and Avera since?" Faith looked at her confused.

"The two girls? Mona, the Palestinian, Avera, the Israeli?" Faith felt sort of stupid, she didn't realize Buffy had read that file, knew the story already. She shook her head.

"Nah, haven't talk to them since the boat-ride to England."

"They must have sent you, about, 20 E-Mails." Faith looked up.

"Why?"

"Wanted to thank you . . . you do know that Mona speaks English, right? She just doesn't trust Westerners."

"Really?"

"Yeah. And, it would seem, that Lesbianism amongst super-heroes isn't just an American thing." She said pointedly. Faith's eyes bugged at that.

"You Gotta be Kidding me!"

"Nope. Giles' been telling me they've been going at it like Spring-Slayer-Bunnies without the confusion of why their mating isn't resulting in reproduction." Faith's eyes remained wide, though they suddenly closed when she burst out laughing at Giles' comment.

"Regular Romeo and Juliet of the West Bank, huh?" she said, still laughing. Buffy joined in, but stopped before Faith. And silence took over. There they sat, opposite people, on opposite white couches, looking at each other in the empty room and only the sound of the bustling city out the window as distraction and the ceiling fan turned silently over-head pushing the hot air around the room.

"I assume you have a few questions to ask me?" Buffy said. Faith nodded, and took a folder out of the front pocket of her rolling bag. She opened it, flipped through it until she found a yellow legal-pad page.

"Yeah, so, this will mark the official start of your evaluation." She said reading from the sheet above, "Alright, some of the topics Willow and Giles asked me to cover were about a man by the name of," Faith squinted, and looked back up at Buffy. "'The Immortal'?" Buffy nodded. Faith'd heard of him, he was supposed to be some kind of sex and finance legend in the super-natural world.

He was also considered Evil by the counsel. Though, truth be told, he might as well have been right on the line. He did as much good as he did bad. Faith though the main reason the Counsel had opposition to him was his attachment to Angel, Wolfram & Hart, and his recent relationship with Buffy. Or, at least, that was the idea Faith had cooked up on the plane after a few drinks.

"So, uh, you had been explicitly told not to have liaisons with this man, and you did anyway. Is that correct?" Buffy nodded.

"Yes, that's true." Faith sort of smiled at the page on her lap and continued.

"It says that you lived with him temporarily, or that you would spend significant time with each-other in both your homes, is this correct?" Buffy nodded. "Did you sleep with him?" Faith asked. Buffy raised an eye-brow.

"Is that one of Giles' questions?" Buffy asked, doubting it.

"No, but I'm sure it's what everyone wants to know." Faith said smiling a little, "Besides; Are You Showing Signs Of Resistance To My Interview?" she asked as though reading from a manual. Buffy just shook her head.

"Yeah. I slept with him. A number of times." Faith's eyes widened in surprise to Buffy's indiscreet answer."

"How was it?" Faith asked, sounding interested now. Buffy just looked at her, un-phased. "Well?" She insisted.

"He was good." She said flatly. Faith made a face, tilting her head to the side. "alright, he was incredible. In fact, he was too good." At this, Buffy sounded very annoyed.

"Uhhh, 'Too Good'?" she asked, sounding skeptical, "Trust me B, there ain't no such thing." Buffy looked at her suddenly.

"Yeah? You say that after you've slept with him!" she sounded up-set.

"What? He break-up with you and now no one else is up to par?" Faith joked. Buffy leaned her head in her hands, elbows resting on her bare legs.

"Not Exactly." She said tiredly. "Keep this out of your report?" she asked, catching Faith's eye with one of hers. Faith nodded, and Buffy sighed deeply. "He was . . . TOO Satisfying." She said slowly.

"What does that mean, B, I still don't get it."

"It MEANS," she said harshly, "I hated sleeping with him. We'd have sex, I'd orgasm, and then . . . Nothing."

"What 'Nothing'?"

"I mean nothing, Faith. Nothing. Sex would be the furthest thing from my mind. I'd be in bed with this hansom, funny, rich, kind, immortal sexual god, and . . . I felt no attraction anymore. I would be SO satisfied, that I wouldn't want sex anymore. The first time it happened, I felt so awkward and out of place that I . . . I went slaying."

"You went Slaying?" Faith asked, trying to figure this all out.

"Yeah! You know, to work out whatever was going on. So I went, I Slayed, I even had a drink, and Nothing! No post-slay 'need', nothing. Even Slaying and drinking didn't fix it. when I got back, he was there waiting for me, looking all expectant, and he tried to seduce me and . . . I let him. I lied. I said I wanted him, I slept with him, and I was – Again! – left un-wanting when it was over." Buffy groaned and sighed. "by our next date a few days over, it had worn off, but this same cycle repeated over and over again through our entire relationship. So I left him. I think he knew what was going on; he was a pretty smart guy."

"Wow. . . ." Was all faith could think of saying. Buffy picked her head up, as if to say, 'don't ask.', so Faith didn't. she looked back at her page and asked the next question.

"Uh, okay, what about the man you attacked a few weeks ago?" she asked, catching Buffy's eyes, "True, he was a little more than human, but you still attacked him until he was taken to ICU. Any explanations?"

"He was spying on me." Buffy said defensively, sounding a bit like her old-old-self again, "He was hired by Angel to watch me, and I was sick of him getting in my way, following me, going to where I worked, asking people about me, asking demons and vampires if they'd seen me . . . Dorian pointed him out to me. He'd noticed him before I had."

"Who's Dorian?" Faith asked quickly.

"Dorian? Dorian Grey? The Immortal. That's his name. People just call him The Immortal because, well – names self-explanatory." Faith nodded, indicating for her to continue. "So, when I saw him sitting in the same café as I was having lunch in, watching me like some cheesy PI from an old radio-show, I just lost it. when I approached him, he started running. I was just going to confront him, tell him I knew who he was and what he was doing, but he just took off running, so I got even more pissed off – I chased after him!"

"But how did you end up breaking half his ribs and crushing his spleen?" Faith asked as gently as she could. Buffy glared at her, but continued.

"I chased him until he tried to get into his apartment. He needed to unlock it, and I slammed him against his door; bare in mind a lot harder than I intended, and it sort broke a few of his ribs – "

"Eight. It broke eight of them, B." Buffy waved it off like she didn't care.

"But what really got me was that he was trying to play it off like he didn't do anything wrong, that he didn't know who I was, or why was running after him . . . I lost it, and I punched him a few times – he took a few shots at me too, just to be fair – and then I knocked him out with his door and called an ambulance for him." Faith just stared at her like she'd never seen her before. "What? I could have just left him there?!" Now it was faith's turn to shake her head.

"Okay, I'mma do you a favor," Faith said taking a note on the page next to the question, "I'mma try and explain that to Willow and Giles in a way that DOESN'T make you sound like a crazy-person."

"Appreciate it," Buffy said quietly. Faith kept writing until she heard Buffy let out a short laugh. "But are you sure you're the best person to do that?" At that Buffy had a throw pillow to the face before she could stop it. But she just laughed harder.

"Ah, shut-up Blondie!" Faith said, throwing more Pillows. Buffy just kept laughing until she got up, holding her towel tightly to her and heading back to her room in the back.

"Faith, pick up the Pillows. I'm going to get dresses, then we're heading out to dinner." Faith barely registered what she said. It seemed that the towel had moved during her sitting and had been hiked up so much Faith could make out the curve of her ass at the bottom of the towel. But as soon as the door closed behind the blonde, she was back to earth.

"But what about the interview?!" she called, "We still have questions!" Buffy poked her head out the door again,

"You have three days to ask them, right?"

"Yeah...?"

"And you haven't had dinner yet, right?"

"Yeah...?"

"Then we'll go eat, then you can ask me when we get back from Slaying." The door closed again, and she looked out the window. Without even realizing it, night had fallen. Looking at her double-time digital watch, she saw that it was past nine at night. The late spring-night that sneaks up on you, she'd forgotten.

"B! It's Nine O'clock! What places will still be open for dinner?" she called, and out walked Buffy in a summer dress that she couldn't figure out how she'd gotten into so quickly. It was light blue with small green ivy and flowers crawling all over it. She looked stunning in it. She also wore strapy sandals that wound around her legs like ballet shoes. 'How is she gonna Slay in those, let alone walk on all this cobble-stone?'.

"Years of practice." Buffy said quietly to her silent question. "Dinner in Italy usually doesn't start until 10 or 11, so we'll be pretty alone in the restaurants, minus the tourists. Also, it's usually two or three hours long, with lost of wine and coffee, so it's a daily event." Faith's eyes bugged. "You get used to it." she said passively though she couldn't help her smile. "Get changed and we'll head out."

"Change into what? One of those?" Faith asked skeptically, pointing at Buffy's dress.

"Cotton pants and a tank-top, I know you have those." When Faith came back out of the bathroom, she was in a thin pair of jeans, her boots, and a tank-top that was so small Buffy wondered if they'd let her wear that on the same block as a church. "Alright. Let's go."

After a bit of walking, three of four blocks, they come to a large court-yard, about two-blocks long, with a fancy church on one side and an elaborate fountain in front of it. there were merchants all over the open-center of it, shops and restaurants up and down both ends of it. The while linens that made up the hundreds of table-clothes and over-hangs, aprons and umbrellas, with the shades of blue from the sky and the fountain, candle and gas-lights giving the entire plaza a warm glow . . . Faith was actually taken away by how pretty it looked. She hadn't even noticed that she'd stopped walking.

"Faith, come on," Buffy said, taking her hand and pulling her along a little, "Lets get you some food." They walked up to the café next to the large church, with a great view of the fountain, and instantly one of those waiters Faith had thought looked funny walked up to Buffy and kissed her cheeks.

"Ahh! Bella! Bella!" he said happily, "Donna Bella, so good to see you, so healthy!" he said, sitting them right away in a table along the square. "I will get your wine, sei?" and he was off.

"Come here often?" Faith joked. Buffy just said 'something like that', and looked back at Faith. "Where is here, by the way, and why does he think your name is Donna Bella? – come to think of it; bunch of people called me that too!" Buffy laughed as Faith looked confused, taking in the café and the children getting their faces painted near by.

"Donna just means woman or girl, and Bella means Beautiful. Italian men call everyone that in Italy, you'll get used to it. It's a compliment, them trying to be nice." Faith looked over her Menu, trying to hide her slight blush, "And where we are is the Piazza Navona."

"Piazza Navona!" Faith said excitedly, I've heard of that; the Cabby from the air-port taught me how to say t today in exchange for his tip." Buffy chuckled and smiled as the waiter came back with her wine.

"Let me guess; you suck at speaking Italian?" Faith nodded, and the man poured them both a glass of white wine. "Grazi Mariano." She said, drinking a bit of it slowly.

"Ah, Elizabetta! Who is this ragazza abbastanza?" Buffy laughed a bit and smiled at the man as Faith looked at him, slightly offended 'What did this freak call me?!'

"Mariano, this is my friend Faith, from Boston." He shook her hand and kissed it. while he was bent over doing that she asked what he'd called her. "he called you a very attractive woman, pretty much." Buffy summarized.

"Sei, sei. From bow-stain – " it took him a few tried to say Boston, but he just couldn't seem to do it, so Buffy put him out of his misery and just said East Coast. "Ah, yes, East-Coast, yes. Very cold, sei?" Faith just smiled and nodded. He gave them some menus and left them again.

"He sure is friendly." Faith said. Buffy nodded.

"He's one of my bosses. I work as a waitress when I need to pay for extra little expenses here and there, since this is so close to the house I tend to work any later shifts they might have here." She sipped her wine again, "They love having American waitresses; makes ordering from English-speakers go a lot faster." Buffy chuckled at something, and Faith wanted to know what.

"What's so funny?"

"Well, I kind of like being The American Waitress. Americans always love to ask me where I'm from, what I'm doing here, leave huge tips . . . but its more fun to pretend to be Italian, trying to speak English with a Texan accent." Faith gave a slight surprised laugh as she was half way through a gulp of her wine.

"And how do you pull that off?"

"Throw in some Italian here and there, speak in slightly broken English with a Texan accent, and use lots of little words to describe things." Buffy smiled evilly. "Americans always compliment me on my English-speaking skills when I do that, telling them I learned to speak 'American' at 'Take-Sase State Universly'." She said in what must have been her 'Italian-Texan' accent. Faith nearly cried laughing at it, and the idea of Buffy taking orders like that.

About two hours later, when night had really fallen, Italians had started their dinners, and Faith and Buffy had just finished theirs, the coffee arrived. They had finished a bottle of wine. Two glasses for Buffy . . . the rest was in Faith. Buffy had ordered a desert Latta, and Faith was having a Caffe il Grappa. In other words, a shot of espresso with a shot of sugar-flavored 80-proof vodka. This should be interesting.

"So Faith," Buffy asked, glad for Faith slight inebriation, "Why are you here?" she asked. Faith looked at her blankly, her eyes blinking at different speeds. She realized she'd have to elaborate. "Why do you feel like you need a vacation? And why here?" You were in Boston before this, Willow told me. I thought that was your vacation for the summer?" Faith chuckled darkly into her coffee as she sipped it.

"Boston? A vacation?" she asked skeptically. "Went there to see my family. And let me tell you, the parts where they live were almost as bad as Gaza. My Dad's pretty deep in hawk, pawned half the shit in his house to keep drinking, and he's too deep into that to work anymore . . . worst part is I know he'd drink until it left him on the streets and then he'd do it until he was in the grave." She laughed bitterly, drank some more, and sighed. "Besides. I hear there are some things to see in Rome that you can't find anywhere else." She was looking right at Buffy as she said this, but the blonde still didn't get it.

"Alright then. I'll show you tomorrow afternoon, alright? I have to waitress in the morning – filling in for a friend." Faith just smirked, her smile creeping up the left side of her face until her dimples showed.

"I'd like that." She said, crossing her legs under the table, her calf running against the blondes. Buffy just shook her head and waved Mariano for the check.

"If you're at the footsy-stage, we'd better get you in bed quick." Faith smiled as they both got up.

"I like the sound of that!" she said happily. Buffy kissed the waiter's cheeks in goodbye, who then did the same to Faith who started laughing loudly.

"Scusi Faith," she said to the waiter, "Multo Bevuto." She said, making a drinking motion with her hand. The man winked and wished them good night.

"What did you say to him about me B?" Faith asked as Buffy took her by the hand and lead her through the large and now bustling square back to the apartment.

"I told him you were single." She lied, which got her a hard sock to her arm. It was a lot better than trying to tell faith she was drunk. She tried to that once when they were younger, at the Bronze . . . Faith would have none of it. It often ended with someone getting hurt; usually Faith trying to prove she could Slay like this. On the way out, Faith noticed little to nothing of many pretty features of the plaza.

In a dark alley, not a block from the apartment, Buffy heard something following them. It was a step and a clink, perfectly in time with each-other, and the soft swish of a cape. As the breeze caught up with them, the subtle smell of dry, stale death caught her nose. It was a smell she knew. One she knew was not safe to have around with Faith as drunk as she was. Leaning Faith against a wall, she asked the girl for the stake tucked into the back belt-loop of her pants.

"Why you want my stake? What's going on?" she asked, still leaning, a little woozy from the high dose of caffeine mixed with the strong spirit of the liquor. But Buffy didn't answer. She just spun around and looked down the long and winding street behind them.

Then Faith heard it too. The click, step, click, step as it came closer. As she took in a deep breath the smell hit her Slayer senses and instantly her body tensed. This was Death stalking them, old Death. It was a Vampire. Then suddenly, when it sounded like it was right upon them, it stopped. Then, it was right in front of them. Having jumped from the roof-tops above their heads, a vampire that looked like it'd walked right off the set of 'Interview With The Vampire' stood not two feet from Buffy.

"Good evening Elizabetta." The old Italian Vampire said. He wore a full black cape, a black and white suit and shirt, a blood-red tie, and a straight cane with a round silver top. Faith pushed herself from the wall, faltered slightly, and Buffy pushed her back against it without looking back. "Ah, you have a new companion?" he asked kindly, "And so soon after Dorian? He will be hurt that you could replace him so quickly."

"She's Family, Paul." She said solidly, spitting his name like a bad taste from her mouth as she raised her stake. "Killing her would be welcoming a world of pain you don't want." The Vampire's human face scowled disgustedly.

"I am Paulo De'Morte," He said swellingly, arrogantly, "I was feeding from the necks of your ancestors before your prophecies were even written."

"Oh Shut-Up!" Buffy said, sounding tired and un-caring about his bull-shit. "Your mother was an accused witch during the inquisition and your father was a horny priest that couldn't keep it to himself. As soon as you were born they killed your mom, and to cover it up your dad said you were a child of the Devil. You were tortured from birth, and fed to other creatures they studied . . . and you haven't killed a Slayer yet. So stuff it, Paul."

"My Name is Paulo De'Morte – "

"Yeah? You and every other Vamp this side of Germany." She raised her fist and the stake. She was done talking, that much was obvious. Faith may have been drunk, but she knew when Buffy'd pissed someone; she wore the look on Paulo's face a lot. He lifted his cane, and suddenly it was a sward. Both Buffy and Faith though "... should have seen that coming."

"It will be an honor for you and your companion to be my first." He growled, though his face remained human-like, the scowling smile etched deep into his cheeks.

"Hate to break it to you, but you've already died once . . . Sure you wanna die again?" Faith smiled, leaning against the wall a little still, she liked Buffy's quips. Without warning though, the fighting started. At first it mostly consisted of Paulo wilding swinging at her with his sward, and Buffy dipping, diving, and twisting her body so as not to get hit. It was really cool to watch, if you're Faith, and Drunk, otherwise it'd be pretty scary.

Then, when Buffy 'Limbo'd' under a swipe that would have cut her in half, she dropped into a double-kick to his stomach, unbalancing him, and they both fell to the ground. Faith rushed over to help, but was stopped. Buffy'd Flipped off of her back and grabbed faith by her shoulders.

"Faith! Stop! Fighting like this will only get us both hurt or killed!"

"But you can't take him alone!" Faith rationalized. Just as she was about to reply they heard Paulo laughing behind them.

"Ah, it would seem that she does not have much faith in you, Elizabetta. Perhaps you should listen to her, eh?" Buffy actually growled. Like, really growled. Her lip drew and the animalistic rumble seemed to bubble up from her throat . . . Faith was a little shocked. Okay, and a little turned on to, she rationalized to herself, but that was... Whoa.

"Don't you touch her!" Came her quiet warning as she stood in front of Faith protectively. He advanced again, touching his sward to the bottom of Buffy's chin. Hitting the sides flatly with her palms in two separate directions had the sward flying out of his hand and into hers before Paulo could figure out why his hand was empty. Buffy only gave him a second to realize the tables had turn before she started attacking.

And, wouldn't you know it, that dopey cape had a practical use rather than just Role Playing potential. He was actually using it to catch the sward as he mimicked Buffy in her swerving and twisting. But all the swishing and stabbing was annoying her, so the next time he caught her sward she used all her Slayer strength, and pulled the ward up. The Cape was shredded, and Paulo's arm fell to the cobbled street with a thud. Now it was Buffy's Sward at his dead throat, him quickly backing away, holding his now empty shoulder socket.

"Now get out of my city and off my streets, Paul, before you lose your head." He quickly changed into his demon-face to scream a loud growl at her before trotting off into the night. Buffy casually walked over to the arm, still bleeding lightly, and picked it up, walking over to Faith against her wall again. "Ready for bed yet?" Faith smirked a little, but looked to the ground before her eye catching the still randomly spurting arm.

"Souvenir?" Faith joked. Buffy just shrugged and led them the rest of the way down the street to the apartment.

"He'll mostly bleed to death, or get killed off by some other night-creature in the state he's in. If the arm still exists as more than death in the mourning, then we'll know if he's alive." As they stood in front of the huge door to get into the apartment ('Why are all the doors here so friggin' huge?' Faith wondered absently), Buffy tossed the arm lightly so that it landed on the balcony out her window and she did trail blood through the stairwell again.

Once they got inside, faith plopped down on the couch, stretching out, making herself comfortable, watching Buffy as she got a large glass roasting pan out of her small kitchen and put the arm in it, resting on the balcony again so as to keep the stench of Death out of the living room. When Buffy tiredly plopped down on the couch next to her, eyes closed, running a hand through her hair, Faith smiled and moved closer.

"It's been a weird night." Buffy mumbled, "Even for me." Faith started rubbing her back gently, watching her. The blonde took in a long and slow breath, breathing it out about as quickly. She did this a few times, sighing with each breath out.

"Feeling better?" Faith asked, chuckling a bit. Buffy shook her head, but kept her eyes close, indulging in Faith's touch. When Faith leaned forward and kissed her, it seemed perfectly logical to the brunette. She wanted to kiss her, she wasn't doing anything better at the moment, and Buffy said she wasn't feeling particularly fabulous at the moment... made sense! Kisses always make you feel a little better in some way, and Faith knew that this kiss would make her feel loads better; she'd been waiting over two years for this!

Now, although the action made sense to Faith, she was more than just slightly shocked when the blonde allowed herself to be kisses. She was even more surprised when Buffy even raised a hand to her cheek and kissed her back gently. And suddenly, Faith was somewhere else. Whether it was the drink, the feel of the small, soft lips against hers after all this time of yearning, or the sudden heat passing in her blood at the contact between them; it moved her. Raising her hands to either of Buffy's cheeks, she kissed her slowly, deeply, wanting more of this feeling; it was the best tension she'd felt since the Final Battle for Sunnydale, the most calming and relaxing wave of lust in her life.

"B . . ." She moaned, the feel of the soft and shy tongue against her taking her breath away, making her see stars behind her closed eye-lids. The soft breaths, coming in slow sighs against her lips as they kissed, the smell of warn sweet wine and honey; a new smell. She remembered a time when all the blonde smelled like was expensive perfume and dirt, vampire dust and smokeless California air. She liked this better; a whole lot better, tasting her breath from her lips and the way it brought a small strangled moan from her throat.

She felt Buffy's weight shift under hers, and Faith moved to sit over her lap. The long, wild tendrils of hair, now naturally blond from the heat of the Italian sun, seemed so smooth and priceless in her hands. The small hands at her hips, holding her lightly, with their deadly but delicate fingers tickling her where her shirt had ridden up and exposed her stomach. God! It felt like fire was burning in her belly, warming everything; her skin, the blood in her vanes, the air in her lungs . . . She knew; this must be a Slayer thing. And as Faith moved her hand to the blonde's bare thigh, slowly gliding up Buffy's leg until she hit the hem of her summer-dress, she started feeling faint.

"Alright, that's it," Buffy said business like, gently but quickly lifting the brunette right off her lap and on to the couch where she'd been sitting before the kiss, "Yeah; you're drunk." She said, getting up and straitening out the now slightly wrinkled fabric of her clothes.

"What?" Faith asked, really confused. Not to mention disappointed. And Aroused... What the hell just happened?! Buffy looked at her sympathetically.

"Drunk kissing I get, been there; hell Spike unliving proof of those kinds of bad choices. But I draw the line at drunk Sex these days." She put a gentle hand on the younger woman's shoulder, "Trust me Faith, you'll be happier for it in the morning." She highly doubted it.

"B, no, wait – "

"Faith, really. It's fine; I've kissed girls before, it's no big deal." She said, trying to comfort her, when in reality it sort of disappointed the brunette... She'd kinda liked the thought that she would be Buffy's first time. In fact, she was taken a little off guard when she said that and forgot the main argument she was trying to make.

"You have?" she asked suddenly, "Who?" Buffy blushed a bit and smiled regretfully.

"In many ways Italian social-culture is a lot further along that American. I go to clubs pretty frequently, and I've been the drunk girl latching on to the first pretty face that'll have me. . . doesn't mean I'm proud of it." she shook her head as it to rid herself of something, some thought, and straitened up again. "The point is Faith; I'm fine. Get some sleep, I'll get you blackest and things." And she trotted out of the room. Faith realized she was panting. She could feel her cheeks tingling with the pre-feelings of hyperventilation. WHAT THE FUCK JUST HAPPENED?!

When the blonde returned she had a blanket, a down-pillow, a soup-pot, a glass of water and a bottle of Advil. She pulled all the cushions off the back of Faith's couch, stacking them on the floor, faith silently watching as she set the bedding on the end, and put the water, pills and saucepan on the coffee-table. Faith'd gotten her breathing under control, but she was NOT in a good mood.

"Alright, take the pills and drink all the water now, before the head-ache arrives so by the time it gets to you the painkillers will have kicked in." She said as though explaining to someone who was ignorant, "The pan is incase you wake up in the night and don't think you're gonna make it to the bathroom in time. That's not to say it's a substitute; try and use the toilet if you can because I'm not going to clean it out for you tomorrow." She then turned to leave again, but Faith caught her arm.

"No, B, you don't understand," she said urgently, wishing she hadn't had so much to drink – wishing she hadn't had suck a reaction to Buffy's touch – sobering but at the same time still on some kind of high from the night's events, "I love you, Buffy." She said quietly, trying to say it like she meant it, knowing that she did. Buffy just smiled wryly and patted her head.

"I know Faith, I love you too." She said it as though to a slow child, and walked towards her room again, but Faith called to her.

"No B! I mean it! Really!" She said, needing the blond to understand. Buffy just sighed, now sounding a little tired.

"Yeah. I know. I rock – I kick ass – I'm a God – and you love me. Now go to sleep." She turned towards her room and added in a whisper, "... they always love you when their drunk... lets see if she still 'Loves Me' tomorrow." She sounded very doubtful. Closing the door, Faith was left alone again.

"Shit." She muttered, feeling the beginnings of her buzz coming down with Buffy's last words for the night. She reached for the water and the pills, and took them both quickly. Punching her pillow roughly, throwing it against one arm of the couch, she slammed her head against it as she pulled the blanket over her. Things were not going well at all. Starring out the open window on to the balcony, the arm-roasting pan all but forgotten, the sky above the opposite rooftops was already turning from purple to blue off in the distance. And without even realizing it, Faith fell a sleep.

.

( To Be Continued . . . )

VixenRaign

.

Dear Dallas; Happy Birthday! Much love and best wishes, your friend,

Vixie