Leather-clad hips sway to the music, up and down, her movements mirroring your own. Or maybe it's the other way around. Not that it matters. You're one and the same. One entity, existing in two bodies, moving fluently together without one beat apart. Others swarm around, but all you know is of her breath on your neck and your arms around on her waist. Hair slick with sweat, clings to your forehead, and she laughs as she sees you staring into her deep brown eyes, the beautiful pools twinkling with happiness, something you weren't ever sure she'd feel again. You giggle with her, grinning as she pulls you toward the exist, dancing the way. You love her, and that's all that really matters. Because that's the way it goes, and the rest of them don't have a clue where you are, anyhow.

Faith is your girlfriend, and you are hers, and that's all that matters.

She loves you. And you love her. What was that expression Buffy had once quoted from her?

Want. Take. Have.

And boy, does she have you.