Hey, everybody! My first Fuffy fic (that I've posted). Lemme know what you think!

"What about him?"

I humor her by looking over to where she's pointing. Some tall dude with . . . a lip ring? staring over from the dance floor. He smiles at me when we make eye contact, and I respond with an exaggerated eyeroll, wiping that shit-eatin' grin clean off. That's right, buddy, move along.

B looks back at me and gives me a real condescending look. "You could be less rude, ya know. He wasn't that bad looking."

"Face piercings, Twinkie? You really think that low of me?"

She goes red and huffs. "Well how am I supposed to know what irks you? It's not like you've given me any requirements to follow!"

"I told ya, B, quit tryin' to hook me up," I grumble, taking a swig of my beer. "Can't we just hang? Toss back a few without some dick always interruptin'?"

B sighs again, resting her head on her hand and having the nerve to look bored at the idea. "There's a good way to find a guy, I guess. Make it look like we're on a date. We're guyless so much people probably think we're lesbians."

The way she says that really chaps my ass. Does she know how many people would cut off a fuckin' arm to look like they were on a date with me? And what's she got against dykes, anyway? Not like there's any within the city limits she knows about that have pissed her off in the past.

"Sorry wantin' to hang grosses you out so much," I scoff, finishing my beer and making to head back to the bar. "Won't bother next time."

"Faith," she grabs my arm, stopping me. "That's not what I . . . I'm not saying that. It doesn't. I just. . . ." She trails off, looking a little uncomfortable.

"You just what?"

Looking up at me with those big doe eyes, she shrugs. "I just figured going out and picking up guys was your idea of fun, that's all."

Or you could just call me a slut, no big. "Well, that's not why I wanted to go out tonight, aright?" I cross my arms defensively, and her eyes fly right to my cleavage.

"Excuse me for going by your attire," she quips pointedly.

I examine myself. Okay, so I got a little less-than-nun to go out tonight, big deal? Doesn't mean it's for the horn dogs here. It's for . . . someone else. Who's currently pissing me off and making me crave another beer.

"I'm goin' to the bar, you want another one?" I ask, eager to get out of this stupid conversation.

She holds up her half full bottle, glancing at my three dead soldiers on the table. Great, now I look like some alchy. "I'm good, thanks," she says wryly.

I just nod, making my way to the bar.

"Yo, Henry, can I get another, and a shot of JD?"

"That's on me."

I turn to the voice in my right ear to see some jackwad grinnin' at me like he seriously scored. Ugh, Christ. "Nah it ain't, Hen," I call to my friend across the bar.

"No, really, I insist," the guy says earnestly. He looks about 25, and would be a helluva lot cuter if he would shut his fuckin' mouth and stop smilin' like a smacked ass.

"No, really," I say, tossing back the shot Henry put in front of me and chasing it with a mouthful of beer. "I insist. Keep my tab runnin', boyo," I tell Hen with a fist bump before turning to leave.

Smacked Ass grabs my elbow and I swear if I were a dog, my fur would be standin' twelve feet high. "I'm just trying to be nice. You here with anybody?"

I look over at Buffy, who's bopping her head to the music and sipping her beer. I see her little foot kicking along to the beat and it makes my heart gush a little. She's so fuckin' adorable.

"I'm with my girlfriend," I tell him, nodding over to B. Not entirely a lie. She's a chick who's my friend, right? "So take your hand off me before I break it."

He looks over at B, then back at me with a grin, and I can TELL whatever's about to come outta his mouth . . . "Well, speaking of hands, maybe I can give you guys one later, if you and that sexy little piece of ass are up to it." . . . is gonna PISS ME OFF.

I toss my bottle to the floor, just barely stopping myself from smashing it over his head, and grab his wrist before he even gets a chance to finish that fuckin' wink of his. He looks like he's staring death in the face as I twist it hard, and honestly, he practically is.

"Let go of me, you fucking dyke!" he practically squeals. Not helping yourself, dude. I pull him close so I'm right in his business.

"If you ever wanna be able to wipe your own ass again, you'll get the fuck outta here before I really do break this off," I growl as he whimpers and pants.

I let him go and toss him towards Barry the Bouncer, who was already heading over when he saw this fucker put his hand on me, and watch as he gets dragged out, clutching his arm and weeping.

"What the hell was that?"

I turn to find Buffy storming over, looking at my broken bottle and at the guy I just roughed up. "Were you starting fights again?"

What?

"What? I didn't start anything! That fucking asshole was the one who started it, I just finished it. And what the hell does that mean, 'again'?"

She looks like she wants to hit me. "Can't we go anywhere without you breaking stuff and people getting injured? I know how boring you think all my friends are, but none of this ever happens when I'm with them!"

"Yeah? Well go be with them then! Oh wait, ya can't! 'Cause they're all busy with their honeys tonight, and you're stuck with stupid slut Faith!" I know I should shut my mouth before it gets me into trouble, but I'm runnin' on steam now.

B frowns at me, running a hand through her hair. "I'm not stuck with you, Faith, I didn't mean to make it sound that way." Thanks for not disagreeing the slut part! "And I don't think that you're a slut, okay?"

Nevermind.

"I gotta tell ya, B, it really feels like it sometimes, what with you trying to push me off on guys every time we're out and bringin' up what Willow would do or what Xander would say. Christ, I didn't know you found me that boring." I leave her standing there as I pay my tab, get my jacket and go.

"Faith!" she calls after me in the alley, shrugging her jacket on hastily. "Wait up, just tell me what happened!"

"He was being a prick," I shrug.

"Well he must have said something to piss you off like that. And why did he call you a dyke?"

Yeah, I'd so rather not get into that. I ignore her and keep walking.

"So thats it?" she says as she catches up. "You're just going home?"

"Yeah, B," I sneer. "I'm going home. I don't want to bore you any longer."

"Faith, wait!" she shouts as she grabs my arm. What the fuck is with everybody pawing at me tonight?

I whip around to face her, yanking my arm back. "He said something about you, okay?! He said something about you that pissed me off, so I kicked his ass! Happy?"

She frowns. "Why did he say something about me?"

This night just keep gettin' better and better. I drag a hand through my hair. "I told him you were my girlfriend so he'd leave me alone and he called ya somethin' I didn't like."

"You told him I was your girlfriend?" she squeaks, her eyebrows disappearing into her hairline.

Aaaaaand better.

"Don't get your panties in a twist, B," I scoff, trying to pretend the disgust on her face isn't making me uncomfortable. "I was just tryin' to get him off my ass so we could hang."

"By making everyone think I'm a lesbian with you? So he could spend the whole night talking to his buddies about how I'm a lesbian?!"

"Oh Jesus Christ, B, would you quit harpin' on the gay thing?" I snap at her. She is really startin' ta grind my gears tonight. "You seriously have that much of an issue with gay people? I defend you against some asshole and all you can think of is how gross lesbians are?"

She goes bright red at that, gaping like a goldfish and lookin' like she just got caught with her pants down. "What? No! I don't have a problem with gay people, Faith, that's completely ignorant."

"Sounds like ya do. And while we're at it, is it really that awful that someone would think you might be with me?"

Shut up, shut up, for fuck's sake, SHUT UP.

"Am I really that embarrassing to be seen with? You think people would look at the two of us and be like, 'Wow, poor Buffy settling for that piece of trash'. Am I not up to your royal fucking standards, B?!"

I stop myself there. I've already revealed too much. Picking up an empty bottle on the ground I hurl it at the wall, shattering it into a million pieces. Fuck this. Fuck you, B. I'm still seethin' when I feel her hand on my shoulder, not having realized she got this close. I look up to see her studying me closely, her forehead wrinkled in concern, and I know if I don't stop lookin' into those big dreamy green eyes I'm gonna break down like there's no tomorrow.

"What is this really about?" she asks gently.

She knows. I can feel it. She's lookin' right through me, right into my achin' chest, into my poor tired heart, and I know she knows I love her.

God, I fucking love her.

I've only cried twice in my life. Once when my Watcher was killed, and again the night the realization I loved this girl hit me like a baseball bat to the stomach. I nearly drank myself to death that night, but stupid Slayer constitution kicked in just in the nick of time.

It hurts. Every day it hurts.

Because I'll never be her Prince Charming. I'll never be the last one she thinks of when she goes to bed at night, the first one she thinks of when she wakes up.

I'm a tramp. A slut.

I'm absolutely worthless compared to her.

Her light is so bright, and I'm barely a flicker in the shadows.

"I'm not good enough," I mumble, looking away before she sees the tears I feel stinging behind my eyes. Shruggin' her hand off, I back away, heading home and leavin' her speechless as the first few raindrops hit the ground. "I'm just not . . . not good enough."

TBC