In the middle of texting Dawn—for the tenth time since arriving three hours ago, it’s not even like she left her alone, Giles is babysitting—she ends up sitting down on the wrong blanket.
In Buffy’s defence they have the same white and light blue checkered blanket with green stripes that Willow had set up earlier in the day.
“Hey, think you’ve got the wrong spot.” Some girl chuckles, causing Buffy to look up from her phone, from the set of angry emojis Dawn had sent after sending an all caps complaint about Giles dinner choice and early bedtime schedule. Buffy’s eyebrows crinkle in confusion for a second before realisation sets in and she gasps in horror.
That’s not Willow, or Xander, or Anya, or Tara, or Cordelia—or anyone she’d come to this festival with.
“Oh god,” Buffy says, scrambling to get up. The girl who’s blanket she’d sat down on is laughing. “I’m so sorry.” Buffy apologises, her cheeks flaming red. “We have the same blanket as you, I was distracted,” Buffy glances down at her phone, gesturing to it as she rambles, “I just assumed this was my group. Really, white and blue checkered blankets are a rare find. I would have looked if it was red and black-”
“It’s cool. I’m not mad or nothing.” The girl interrupts, still chuckling lightly. Buffy feels her posture relax as she nods her head and juts her thumb out back towards the crowd.
“I should leave you alone then.” Buffy nods, but her eyes are focused on the girl in front of her. On the low cut black top and the form hugging leather pants. On her brown hair falling around her shoulders and the heavily lip glossed smirk. It seems harder to leave after taking in the other girls appearance.
“Yeah, if you’ve gotta get back to your friends,” The girl nods, her voice going softer and trailing off.
“I’m Buffy.” She introduces herself on impulse. Buffy cringes after her name falls out of her mouth; the girl probably just wants her gone.
“Faith.” Her smile lightens at Buffy’s introduction, as she introduces herself. Faith, Buffy thinks, smiling. It’s a nice name. It’s a name that would look right at home doodled next to Buffy’s on the purple notebook she’d brought last week for school.
Buffy struggles to find something to talk about, to root her to this spot and keep her in conversation with the pretty stranger—Faith—she’d just stumbled across. Her phone beeps in her hand again, a row of exclamation marks from Dawn.
“Your friends?” Faith asks, unashamed for prying. Buffy rolls her eyes in annoyance at the thought of the fourteen year old stuck at home.
“Little sister. I left her at home to come here and she’s not happy about it.” Buffy laughs, wondering if it would be rude to sit down next to Faith. Again. Her friends would understand—Hell, they’d encourage it—for weeks, they’ve all been on the ‘Let’s get Buffy dating again!’ train. With that train of thought, she should just leave and never mention it to her friends. It’s not like she’s going to jump into a relationship any time soon, and it’s not like a girl she’d just met would even jump into a relationship with her. And—she should really stop delving off into these thoughts.
Faith chuckles, “Little sis, huh? How little cos I’m picturing you leaving a four year old at home who’s thinking The Wiggles or somethin’ are gonna be playin’“
Buffy laughs, “Fourteen. But with the way she acts she could easily pass for four.” She jokes.
“Ah, the rebellion stage?” Faith asks, like she wrote a book on the subject of rebellion and it’s an old friend she knows well; or maybe Buffy’s making assumptions based on her leather pants and confident attitude.
Without thinking Buffy falls into a sitting position next to Faith, choosing not to think but just act. “Yeah,” Buffy laughs with a heavy emphasis on the word. “She keeps telling me she’s not a kid but she keeps climbing out of her bedroom window, gets into trouble, has striked up a friendship with a 20 something bleach-blonde guy who hangs out in cemeteries. All classic signs of a kid trying to rebel.” Buffy laughs, cringing slightly at the mention of Spike—it’s not exactly flirty conversation to bring up the older guy who used to hang around you in high school who’s now taken to being friends with your little sister because he’s got a crush on you. “Did I mention she still keeps a diary?”
“I never kept a diary but the older boys, the sneaking out of home? Been there, done that. Teen angst and all that shit.” Faith chuckles, leaning back on her arms and looking Buffy up and down—not so subtly checking her out. It hits her that Faith hasn’t asked why Buffy’s came across as being Dawn’s sole guardian, why she’s so involved as if she’s responsible for her sister’s welfare. Buffy’s grateful for it, that she doesn’t have to talk about Joyce and how a big part of her sister’s angst can be attributed to the death of their mother. Instead she can focus on the hot girl not so subtly checking her out. She can focus on how she’s felt at ease and relaxed with her.
“What about you, B? Ever had a bad girl phase?” Faith asks cheekily, licking her lips. Buffy tucks a piece of her hair behind her ear and looks down at the blanket. B playing on repeat in her head. The action of Faith licking her lips. The way her words came across as flirty. Bad girl phase.
“I got kicked out of school for burning the gym down?” Buffy offers up, laughing as she relieves the memory.
Faith whistles, “Well damn, tell me the story!” She exclaims and Buffy thinks—yeah, I will.