Note: It's been pointed out to me that a handful of my stories have never been posted here, so I'll be trying to remedy that over the next week or so. This is a one-shot I wrote based on the song "Fuck and Run" by Liz Phair. Hope you enjoy it. :)


I woke up alarmed
I didn't know where I was at first
Just that I woke up in your arms
And almost immediately I felt sorry 'cause
I didn't think this would happen again
No matter what I could do or say
Just that I didn't think this would happen again
With or without my best intentions.

-"Fuck and Run" by Liz Phair


It's morning in Los Angeles and I'm awoken by the feel of the warm sun shining on my face and the sound of a car passing by outside. These satin sheets feel amazing against my skin and I smile a little to myself. It's not very often that I get to wake up like this, so peaceful and content.

But as my lips crack up into the tiniest of smiles, I instantly start to feel the banging in my head and the ache in my stomach; the unmistakable signs of a hangover trying to ruin my happy morning. Suddenly the sun is too bright and it's making my head even more woozy than it already is and I'm fighting back the barrel of alcohol that's trying to exit my sore body via my mouth.

What the heck did I do last night? What time is it? And since I'm asking questions, where the heck am I?

I raise my arm to my face and cover my eyes, hoping to find a bit of reprieve from the sun. When I finally manage to blink my eyes open, I see something on my hand. A red stamp? A red stamp from a club?

Slowly it all starts coming back to me. Willow and Kennedy's engagement party. Willow and Kennedy's engagement after-party, hosted by Faith and Gunn at The Red Room, a local nightclub. Playing a drinking game with my friends, one of the ones where you had to drink if you've done something someone says they haven't.

Trust me, I didn't get drunk off of that one. My life has been sadly vanilla compared to some of the stories I heard from my friends last night. I think I might even be a little bit scarred after some of the things I heard.

No, I got drunk when Faith and Kennedy challenged me to a different kind of drinking game. They wanted to see who could do the most shots of some horrible-tasting alcohol and dance the longest after.

I still don't know who won. After seeing Kennedy being dragged, literally, from the dance floor by Willow and Andrew, the rest gets a bit hazy.

Taking a deep breath, I close my eyes and try to focus and that's when it hits me: the smell. It's very distinguishable and something I'm totally not used to waking up to these days. Sharing a small apartment in LA with Dawnie and Xander just doesn't give room – or privacy - for that kind of thing. I'm not sure where I am or how it happened but the smell of sex is in the air and judging by that oh-so-good soreness between my legs, I know I was taking part in the festivities.

Suddenly someone stirs in the bed and I feel an arm wrap around me from behind coming to rest on my very naked breasts. Being so close to the edge of the bed already, the small motion completely throws me for a loop and I slip right off of the bed and onto the carpeted floor. I wait here for a few minutes on my back with a pillow clutched protectively over my naked body, expecting to see the head on my 'partner' pop over the edge looking for me. When a few minutes pass and I hear only a soft snore filling the room, I know it's safe to make my escape.

I get to my knees and start to crawl around, looking for my discarded clothing. I manage to find my pants and my shirt but I have no idea where my shoes and panties are. Now, I can stand here and get dressed but how awkward will that be if my bed-buddy wakes up? I don't even know who it is!

No, I need to make a clean escape. I look over toward my left and see a door there. Hoping it's the exit, I crawl over as quickly and quietly as possible, the carpet leaving little burns on my knees. When I finally stand up I look around and take in my surroundings I realize . . . I'm in a bathroom.

Well that's just great! How the heck do I get out of here?

I take a minute to pull on my clothes, grimacing when I realize that I have to wear pants without underwear. I'm sorry but going commando just doesn't sit well with me. When we were younger we were always taught the basics: Smile when addressed. Tip your waiter generously. Never wear white after Labor Day. And always wear underwear in public in case you get hit by a truck.

Yeah, I'm not sure where Mom came up with that one either but I'm suddenly hoping that said truck is going to speed through here and put me out of my misery.

Something catches my eye as I finish pulling my clothes on. There's a hairbrush on the sink and it's very . . . girly. In fact, the bedroom and the bathroom are both pretty girly. And what kind of man has satin sheets? I may have had sex with a girly-man! I pull back the shower curtain and I see a fair amount of shower gels and soaps.

Well, maybe he just likes to smell nice?

Wait, did I just sleep with Andrew?

Bracing myself, I pull open the door to the vanity and nearly faint when I see a nice and shiny box of tampons mocking me in its girlyness. I'm in a girl's bathroom, which I'm pretty sure is connected to a girl's bedroom. And I'm pretty sure I was connected to a girl in that bed!

There's a shuffling noise in the other room and I freeze as I hear,

"B?"

My eyes widen and panic sets in. I don't look up; I just cover my head with my arms and run out of the bathroom and across the bedroom to what I hope is the door out. Once out of her room I stumble and fumble my way through Faith's apartment until I finally find the exit.

I am never, ever, ever drinking again.


Clearly, my resolution to give up alcohol didn't last all that long as only four weeks have passed and I'm hiding out in Faith's bathroom again.

I don't know how I got here but I blame Captain Morgan and Johnny Depp. If Xander wouldn't have thrown that pirate-themed party last night I would never have gotten drunk on Parrot Bay and pineapple juice and found myself in this predicament again.

Why does rum have to be so tasty? And how the hell did I end up sleeping with Faith again?

We never spoke about what happened after our first night together. I saw her the next day at the training center and the most I got from her was a wink. A wink! She was trying to beat Kennedy at the number of chin-ups they could do and when she'd won their contest, she came into the locker room where I was busy changing. She didn't say anything about our night together or my clumsy escape. She could only brag about her victory and about how buff she was.

She even made me feel her bicep! And yes, it was nice; I'll give her that much. But she just pretended like nothing had happened! Like we hadn't spent naked time together!

After I got over her nonchalance over the whole matter, I finally started to see it as a blessing. If Faith could pretend it didn't happen then so could I. No one would ever have to know about it and I could go back to being Buffy. Wholesome and straight Buffy.

But looking into this bathroom mirror, I look anything but wholesome and straight. There are no less than three hickeys over my neck and chest and my lips are all swollen from kissing. And the worst part? I can see a few remnants of Faith's lipstick over my chest and shoulders.

There must have been some serious smoochage going on. From the kiss marks to the hickeys to that oh-so-good soreness throughout my body, it doesn't feel like I had sloppy drunken sex.

It feels like I was worshipped.

Which, of course, would be fine if it hadn't been by Faith!

I can't even begin to wrap my head around all of this. How do we keep ending up together? And how do I keep losing my panties in my drunken strip down? Knowing Faith there's some kind of panty-eating monster under her bed and she lets him stay so long as she doesn't have to clean under there.

Just as I finish getting dressed, I hear stirring on the other side of the door which I managed to close this time. There's a shuffle, then a chuckle, and then,

"B? You can come outta there, yunno."

Oh no I can't!

"I was thinkin that maybe we could do that again, and then maybe I can go to that Chinese joint down the street and get us some food," she continues.

I . . . what? She doesn't possibly expect me to come back and do that again of my own free will, does she? The alcohol has left my body and I'm clear-minded now. Not gonna happen!

After a few minutes pass and I don't answer, I hear her sigh.

"Alright then. I'm gonna head on down and get some food for myself so you don't gotta do the walk of shame in front of me. Just gimme two minutes."

And I give her two minutes plus about five extra minutes after that just to make sure she's well and truly gone. I step out of the bathroom and peek around, trying to find my panties through the mess we'd created. The blankets are off of the bed and there's a chair knocked over, but there are no panties to be found.

Great. I guess I'm destined to be Buffy, the Commando Commander.

Wincing as I finally make my way out of Faith's building and into the sunny afternoon heat, I look up and down the street for any sign of a cab. That's when I see Faith headed back with two big brown bags in her arms. A car goes by and beeps at her and she manages to flip the driver off without dropping them. I'd be impressed if I wasn't so busy running down the street in the opposite direction, hoping that she doesn't see me.

Have I mentioned how much I'm never drinking again?


I'm beginning to feel pretty at home in Faith's bathroom. I'm sitting here three weeks later on her closed toilet seat with my bunched up shirt and pants in my hands, dressed only in my bra and panties. Yeah, I'm not sure how we managed it this time but I didn't lose my underoos. I found them in my ritual fumble from her bed and, instead of heading for the door this time, well . . . I'm back in the bathroom.

I don't know how this keeps happening. I don't know why it keeps happening. All I know is that every time we end up in a group setting with alcohol, Faith and I end up in bed together.

I know there's some kind of saying about when alcohol goes in, the truth comes out. Is it possible that I keep ending up here because . . . I want to be here?

The whole thing is completely mind-boggling. And the even more confusing part? I didn't wake up and fall out of her bed this morning. I woke up and she had her arms around me.

And I mean, of course I froze. But then I . . . unfroze. And I just laid there with her for about ten minutes before I got up and started looking for my things. I don't know why I haven't left yet. I should be gone by now, cursing alcohol and the way it makes me lose my inhibitions. I'm not though. I'm just sitting here thinking and driving myself crazy.

I get up from the toilet seat and walk over to the sink, putting my hands on the cold ceramic as I lower my head and take in a deep breath. I close my eyes and just breathe. Some of this needs to start making sense soon or I'm gonna have an episode.

Just as I'm about to finish getting dressed, I feel a pair of arms snake around my waist from behind. I keep my eyes closed simply because I'm afraid to open them. Faith draws me back against her, her arms wrapped around my waist as her nose and lips brush over my left shoulder.

"Isn't this the part where you get outta dodge and leave your panties behind to torment me?" she asks, her warm breath against my skin making me shiver.

"Yes, though the part with the panties is never intentional. Once they come off they go rogue and I never see them again," I babble out nervously, finally opening my eyes to see what has got to be one of the sexiest things I've ever seen. Faith is standing behind me, her long dark hair wild and sexy and tickling my arm as she rains kisses and soft touches down on my shoulder. My hands are on her arms and . . . damn we look good together.

"Rogue panties. You're just full of surprises, B," she says, her voice low and sexy. She takes that moment to start sliding her hands down my stomach and to the top of my panties. She hooks her thumbs under them and tries to coax them down but my hands stop her, my breath hitching in my throat.

"I don't know if that's a good idea," I say nervously.

And I mean it. I don't know what the hell's going on here and it's making me insane.

"Well," she says, taking my hands in hers and guiding them up and back behind me so that they slide into her hair, "I happen to think it's a great fuckin idea. And I think you should come back to bed with me," she continues, her hands sliding back down over my stomach and hips, "and let me have my naughty way with you."

"That's definitely a bad idea," I breathe out. My voice shudders a little as I feel her thumbs toying with the top of my panties again. She doesn't pull them down though; I think she knows that might trigger my startle point and we'd have to start over again.

No, Faith is smarter than that. She leaves my panties on but slips her hands under them, letting one just rest there while the other starts to rub over me and oh…my…god.

"You're right. It's defo a bad idea. We can just stay right here."

I close my eyes and try to tell myself that this is wrong, this is bad, but it feels anything but bad or wrong. I concentrate of the feel on Faith's lips against my neck and shoulder, nipping and sucking and kissing. On her encouraging words. On her fingers that are bringing me closer and closer to the edge with every stroke.

"You've been driving me crazy, B," she whispers in my ear as I moan quietly. "All I can think about lately is gettin' you back in my bed and doin' everything to you that I've always wanted to do. And if you make me wait another three weeks for it, I think I'm gonna go insane."

And as she slips two fingers inside of me and starts rubbing me with her other hand, I know that she's not the only one that's about to go insane. My breathing is coming quicker and quicker as I feel myself starting to come. I feel like my head is about to explode and just when I think I can't take the pleasure any longer, I come nice and hard, Faith working me over expertly. When I finally manage to open my eyes, I see her watching me in the mirror, a tiny smirk on her face.

Well, I can't complain; she's earned that smirk. I can't remember coming so hard in, well, ever really.

She casually slips her hands out of my panties and wraps them back around my waist, holding me tight against her. I turn my head to see her face and when I do, she does something that surprises us both: she catches my lips in a long, lazy kiss. When she finally pulls back my eyes are still closed and I run my tongue over my lips, tasting her kiss on them.

And then reality hits home and I realize that I'm standing in Faith's bathroom nearly naked and that she just made me come like a rocket. I can feel her fingers sticky against my skin and I'm not sure whether my instincts are telling me to run or to stay this time.

Faith must sense this because she loosens her arms and steps back giving me some space.

"You can take a shower if you want. Or leave if ya gotta. No way am I waiting three weeks for that again though, B, just so ya know. So, yeah. I'm gonna go make some breakfast. Got some bacon and some eggs, and if you think you're gonna stay I'll even make you some banana pancakes. And then maybe we can go back in there," she indicates the bedroom, "and have a little more of that." She looks down at my half-naked body and waggles her eyebrows suggestively.

She walks out of the bathroom backwards, smiling that flirty smile at me the whole time. I watch her go, a bit embarrassed at seeing her naked but not embarrassed enough to stop myself from checking her out.

I hear her toss on some clothes and leave her room, then I hear a bit of clanging around in the kitchen. I'm torn; I want to stay but a big part of me is still freaking out. I lean forward against the sink again and rest my head on the cool glass of the mirror, exhaling loudly. Why can't this just be easy?

When I pull my head back I see something on the mirror. It's barely there but I can see it on the area where my breath made it foggy. There's a heart with a stake going through it . . . and a very clear "F + B" written in the middle.

Maybe this is more than I was thinking it was, just a case of fuck 'n run. Maybe I should stick around and see how it ends.

I trace my finger over the vague heart outline and smile.

"Hey Faith?" I yell out.

"Yeah?" comes a wary shout from the kitchen.

"I like my bacon crispy."

The End