Rewards, by M. McGregor

Chapter 4

The room was almost muggy with the smell of sex and sweat. Buffy felt like the heat rising off of her swollen pussy must have raised the temperature at least ten degrees. She was constantly biting into the gag in order to muffle her cries, squeals, and screams. The entire experience was a haze of almost frightening pleasure.

Her body tensed and twisted, a dual attempt to get free so she could take a more active role and also to test her bonds and know she was still so vulnerably his.

Xander’s. His to own, his to take pleasure from.

Buffy almost laughed. It wasn’t like she was lacking in the pleasure department. It had her almost feral with the need for him.

Touch me, she thought, pleading to Xander with her eyes. Touch my body, I can’t stop you. Don’t want to stop you. Explore me, Xander. Have you dreamed about this, about my body? It’s yours now, given to you because of the person you are.

After today, Xander would always have that. Would always have a piece of her. This would never go away. For the rest of her life, they would know that Xander had taken her; that he had tasted of her body and enjoyed her every way he could. They would know she’d been completely open to him, both to Xander and to his girlfriend. They would know how much she’d reveled in the experience, how completely she’d given in to those desires; desires she’d either not acknowledged or not even had just a day ago.

Would they know that she didn’t care? Would they know how, in that moment, she was thankful for it?

Part of her wanted to tell him. Buffy wished again that the gag was gone, that she could tell Xander to take her, to claim a piece of her forever.

Xander was before her again, kneeling at the end of the table, with her red and swollen pussy spread open for him, pleading for him. His fingers lightly touched her thighs, stroking up her bound legs. Buffy shivered at the touch, and felt goosebumps rise.

“This isn’t how I wanted this to be,” Xander whispered, and Buffy could barely hear him over Faith’s ever increasing moans.

Make it the way you want it, Buffy thought, trying to drive her thoughts into him. I want it to be that way for you, Xander. I want you to feel some piece of what I feel.

Tears stung at her eyes, because she could feel the sincerity of his words. They echoed with the words he’d spoken that night three years ago.

Xander dreamed of her looking at him with love in her eyes. Xander wanted her to want him, wanted her to love him.

In that moment she did. In that moment, Xander was that surprising choice of total trust. Who else could she ever put every piece of herself into? Who else could she ever be so vulnerable around and still be so comfortable? Who else could she entrust with her everything, and know he would never abuse it?

She felt him; felt his hardness pressed insistently against her dripping snatch. Buffy whined and tried to thrust her hips forward, but her bondage forced her to remain mostly immobile.

He leaned over her body, his arms on either side of her. She watched him out of the corner of her eye, wishing she could turn her head to better look at him.

“Whatever happens,” he whispered. “I love you. I always will. You’re only more beautiful for this.”

Then he pushed forward, and Buffy’s body went rigid as he entered her.

Tiny lights flashed in front of her eyes as she let out a low keening sound, her back arching and her legs attempting to spread wider. He was in her and in her deep. Xander was a part of her in that instant, and would always have this memory. She let her eyes slide closed, and enjoyed.

The fullness was incredible, and the feeling of surrender was complete. In that moment, she was Xander’s, the way he’d always wanted her to be. In that moment, she saw the beauty that he’d envisioned from her for so long.

Xander, she thought. It’s so bright.

The rhythm began. He would pull slowly out, her entire pussy seeming to suck and pull at him, denying his exit. Then he would slide blessedly deep, slapping skin against skin as he pressed in hard. His lips kissed at her neck, and his fingers were soft whispers against her breasts.

Every stroke was a fire, and she was unaware of which sounds were hers and which were Faith’s as the two of them played a sexual game of tug-of-war, their legs rocking back and forth with every thrust. The pull was a delicious strain, reminding her of her submission and vulnerability, reminding her of the man who was doing this for her, and who wished it was something so much more.

It would be more. It had to be more. There was no way magic could be responsible for these feelings, and she could not deny them. Xander was her silent watchdog, always there for her, always with her best interests at heart. How many times had he almost given his life for her? She could picture so clearly the way he’d thrown himself in front of the Toth’s energy bolt, a bolt that could have easily been instantly deadly.

Buffy gripped him as tightly as her weary inner muscles were able, thankful of her Slayer constitution. She wanted Xander to feel her, to be aware of how deeply she was taking him, and how much she was giving him in return.

Once, years ago, Xander had given her new life. She’d awakened as a new person, energized and unstoppable. Now she was being reborn again in the fires of the lust and passion that flared through her. Reborn in the blistering heat that was the emotion between them, the love she could feel so achingly from within Xander.

In me. He’s in me. Of me.

It had never been like this before, never with anyone. This was tragic and beautiful, and she only wished she could tell him how much she wished she’d seen it before this. She was the Slayer, a being of strength and heady responsibility, but in this, she was Buffy, open, vulnerable, and completely at his mercy. Xander was the master of her self, and she thought for a moment that maybe she’d found something she’d never quite been sure to look for.

There it was. The knowledge that no matter what she was, no matter what the Slayer made her, she was his. He was with her. No matter what came, no matter what happened, Xander would welcome her with open arms and a gentle touch.

All she had to do was give herself to him.

Xander tensed. His cock seemed to pulse within her. The first spurt of his seed exploded within her, and she was gone. Buffy screamed her orgasm into the gag, distracting even Faith from her own moaning.

Buffy found the edge she’d been striving for all night, and plunged over it. She gave herself to Xander, and knew he would take her, cherish her and love her always. It was a moment of beautiful clarity, and one she never wanted to end.

Moments are meant to be fleeting, and she knew it would end. Knew it would change things forever.

But for just a moment, she enjoyed, and was at peace.

It was quiet, and Xander’s ears buzzed with the memory of the incredible sounds that had filled them. All he could hear was his own panting as he lay slumped over the table, over Buffy. Her naked body breathed heavily beneath him, her slick skin rubbing tantalizingly against his. He could feel her breasts against his chest, twin points pressing into him.

The touch of dainty fingers against his naked back made him blink and pull his head back. Buffy stared up at him with those sparkling blue-green eyes, her lips swollen and naturally red. The gag was gone.

He stared down at her as he felt her legs around his waist, smooth and warm. Her arms went around his back, holding him, almost clutching at him. The things he saw in those eyes…

“Xander,” she whispered, her voice hoarse and obviously strained. It was the sexiest thing he’d ever heard: Buffy’s voice husky from screaming her ecstasy. He smiled almost nervously.

“It worked,” he breathed.

She nodded. He swallowed. A quick look over Buffy showed Faith sagged against the table, her legs free of the spreader bar and no longer attached to Buffy. She breathed slowly even as Anya massaged the front of her chest lazily, almost comfortingly. Anya’s eyes caught his, and she afforded him a small, almost sad smile.

Then he was back in Buffy’s eyes. Back in the reality of being on her and in her, of her limbs around his, her eyes staring up at him. Her lips, pressed gently together, almost reaching for him…

He kissed those lips. It was a chaste touch, innocent and almost childlike. A kiss to tell her the experience was a beautiful one, but not one that had to destroy what they’d already had. Buffy stared up at him with tears in her eyes, and nodded slowly.

“We should talk,” Xander said. He realized he was still on top of her, still within her, his penis deflating slowly. Was it his imagination, or was she pressing herself down around him?

“Yeah,” she whispered, eyes never leaving his. Xander allowed the moment to linger, and then forced himself to break it away. He blinked, looked away, and pulled back from her. Buffy’s legs loosened their grip around him, allowing him to slip away. It was excruciatingly bittersweet.

Anya came up beside him, offering an embrace and a brief kiss. He took them both. She offered a silent assurance while simultaneously reminding all where her place was, and where his was.

The two Slayers were slowly sitting up. Buffy kept an arm across her chest and another between her legs in a futile attempt at some after-the-fact modesty. Faith seemed to feel such a gesture was useless, and turned to sit on the edge of the table, although she kept her legs pressed together. Her eyes were dark and troubled as she looked at Anya and Xander.

A stifling awkwardness was beginning to loom over them all. The fantastic nature of the situation was beginning to fade away, replaced by the harsh reality of what had just happened, and what all of this might mean. When they’d been nearly drunk with lust, the whole thing had seemed a dreamlike necessity. Now he wasn’t so sure, and Xander found himself second-guessing everything that had happened.

Anya impressed him, both in that she didn’t try to press any further interaction. She seemed to understand that things were changing quickly, and that caution was needed. It was at times like this that her millennia long lifetime gave her an air of wisdom.

It was Anya who offered the Slayers some of her clothing, and ushered them out of the living room to clean up, shower, and dress. Buffy was red as an apple the entire time, while Faith was abnormally quiet. She’d yet to speak a word since the gag had magically vanished.

Half an hour later, they were again in the living room. There were no sign of the chains, bars, and cuffs that had held Buffy and Faith less than an hour earlier. The only hint of their tryst was the smell of sex that lingered in the room, masked but not eradicated by the air freshener Xander had sprayed while the girls dressed and showered.

Awkward silence was now the norm. Xander sat on an overstuffed armchair with Anya sitting possessively on his lap, her arms around his neck. Buffy sat on one edge of the couch, with Faith on the other. The distance the two Slayers kept was a sharp contrast to their enforced closeness from earlier.

He felt it was up to him to break the silence. Xander cleared his throat, and three sets of feminine eyes turned to him.

“You said—” he began, his eyes on Buffy before he stopped in mid-sentence. The look in her eyes was distant, almost disbelieving. Buffy had never actually said anything. “I mean, you uh, you sort of blinked that you, um, knew a little about this.”

She nodded.

“Did you guys read that paper?” he gestured to the parchment which rested on the coffee table, taking the place of the two Slayers.

Both girls nodded. Buffy swallowed audibly, and then looked meaningfully to Xander.

“He came to me,” she said.

“He?” Xander asked. “Who?”

“Gimmel,” Anya answered for her. “Right?”

Buffy nodded. “Yeah. Last night. Or early this morning.”

“What’s he look like?” Anya asked with all the enthusiasm of a groupie. “Is he cute?”

“In an insurance salesman kind of way,” Buffy deadpanned. “I wasn’t really paying attention to how he looked.”

“What did he do?” Xander asked.

She sighed, and fidgeted with her fingers in her lap. Anya’s clothes were big on her, and it made her seem tinier than usual. With her eyes down and the way her body seemed to scream her exhaustion, it made her seem more vulnerable than when she was tied up.

“He asked me some questions,” she said. “Then he told me about the reward for you. He said it was going to be for both of us, but there was a problem, so he had to change things. Change me. So that I wouldn’t hate it, I guess.”

Xander blinked. “Changed you? How?”

“He made me feel it all more,” she said, her voice quiet, almost timid. “Every buried thing I ever felt ashamed for fantasizing about. Everything that ever turned me on, he made it better. Made me like it more. Some of them were things I never let myself think about. Some were things I’ve never told anyone. Not even Ri— Not anyone.”

She stared down at her hands. “Some of them were Faith’s.”

“What?”

“He didn’t know there were two Slayers,” she continued. “He said normally we would have both been rewarded. He said we would…would realize our love for each other. But he said the Slayer had a dark mark on her record, and the Hellmouth would take advantage of that and try to change things. So he was going to do what he could to make sure I still…enjoyed it.”

Xander looked to Faith. She was staring blankly at the floor, seeing things that he didn’t have to guess at. Seeing her crimes. Her lips moved, but she made no sound.

“My fault,” they said.

“He asked me who I trusted,” Buffy said, speaking evenly as she looked either at her hands or at Xander. “Who I trusted more than anyone besides my family. There was something going on, something he was doing to me, because I wasn’t afraid, and I knew I couldn’t lie.

“I told him I trusted you, Xander. Trusted you to have power over me. I didn’t know it would be both of us. I don’t think Gimmel knew either. He thought I was the only Slayer.”

“You—”

“There’s more,” Buffy interrupted. “He asked me if I was in love with Riley.”

She closed her eyes for a moment.

“I said no.”

Xander stared at her; unable to believe she’d just said that. Unable to believe she’d just confirmed Riley’s own beliefs.

“I answered right, or so he said. So he gave me to you. Gave us to you, and made it so all these desires are so strong inside me. Inside us, I guess.” She glanced at Faith, who said nothing. “At first I thought he was just doing it to my own desires. He listed things that I’d kept so hidden, but I still knew they were a part of me. Then he said I’d experimented with lesbianism this year.”

Faith took a deep breath. Buffy nodded. That was all the response she needed.

“That’s when I realized he was doing it to Faith too. Or at least giving me Faith’s feelings too. I didn’t know she was involved until…until we were here.”

“B-But, I mean, Buffy…” Xander couldn’t think of what to say. He never expected Buffy to know so much of what was going on. Nor did he expect she would be so open with relating the things that had happened. “You’re, um, taking it kind of well.”

“That’s part of it.”

“What’s part of it?”

“I’m not sure,” she said, sighing softly. “This is so weird, and I should be really upset, shouldn’t I?”

Anya shrugged. “Not necessarily. Rewards aren’t supposed to be bad things. I mean you just had a very nice series of orgasms, didn’t you?”

Buffy flushed red and stared at her hands. “Yes.” She seemed almost guilty at relating that, but then her eyes raised and she looked straight at Anya. “I loved it.”

“That’s good,” Anya said, beaming a smile. “It was my first time, you know.”

“Buffy, um, what did you mean when you said that’s part of it?”

She pursed her lips and frowned, picking at the armrest of the couch. “He made it so I’d enjoy it. Or maybe he just made it so I’d enjoy it more. I’m not really sure. I’m not even sure that I care one way or the other, because it felt so…so good.”

Xander stared at her in open astonishment. Talking about sex with Buffy was not something he had any experience in doing. Talking about the sex he’d had with Buffy was beyond the realm of possibility. Yet here she was, talking about it, and claiming to have enjoyed herself.

“That’s the problem,” she sighed. “Do you remember what you said to me, Xander?”

“Me? No.”

“You told me not to freak out.”

He furrowed his brow. “I did?”

“Yeah. Before you…started.”

“Oh. Okay. So?”

She gestured to the parchment on the table. “The Slayer is yours to command. I’m not freaking out, Xander, because you told me not to. I’m being honest, because you told me to.” Buffy paused, and took a deep breath. “And I think I like it.”

There was talking. There was shouting, mostly from Xander. There were quiet whispers and calm explanations. Faith watched it all with a sense of detached interest.

Xander seemed to be reacting to things the way she thought she should be: strident denials and angry yelling. It took Buffy and Anya a long time to talk him down. Buffy explained everything that had happened between her and Gimmel, and Anya continued to explain the nature of the rewards. She kept insisting this wasn’t a curse.

Faith wasn’t sure if she believed her or not.

On the one hand, she was free, and that was very frightening. Had she just vanished from her cell? Was she now a fugitive, an escaped felon convict? What if she wasn’t? What would she do without the prison, without that constant reminder that she was atoning for her sins?

On the other hand, Xander had shown her something different. Something of such extreme power that it shook her to the very core. Things were different. That’s what he’d said.

But were they different because he said they were?

Faith kept trying to recall everything he’d said to her. Had Xander given her some order that had messed with her head? And if he had, did she really care?

One prison for another. Didn’t Xander have more right to enact her punishment than the California Penal System?

Her crimes were a constant shadow over her soul, and now that shadow was spreading out once again to hurt others. Were it not for Faith, Buffy wouldn’t have been put in this situation. This situation wouldn’t even exist. It was her crimes that had tainted the Slayer, and ruined Buffy’s reward.

Which is why she cursed herself for any bit of enjoyment she got. Buffy didn’t deserve for Faith to ruin her reward, and Faith didn’t deserve to share in what good stuff she still got out of it. She was just along for the ride. A victim of her own transgressions, and ruining still more lives by her mere existence.

Xander finally calmed down after about an hour of heavy discussion. Buffy, it seemed, was not terribly upset about the whole situation. She was confused and perturbed, but claimed to be glad that Xander had told her not to panic. It kept her calm, and made her feel better. Xander had offered to counter the order, but Buffy had declined, saying she didn’t feel like being sent into a panic. If she could keep her head straight, she wanted to.

Faith found herself with the desire to take things in stride as well. Her life was not her own anyway. She owed it to all the people she’d destroyed, and was paying it back with a life of confinement and labor. She’d traded (temporarily at least) one prison for another. A prison of steel and concrete for a prison of the body and mind.

Oddly enough, it made her feel better. The prison of steel and concrete was one she could leave at any time. It wasn’t a true prison, just the illusion of one. This, this magic and these changes, they were a true control. Who was she to fight it? This is what she wanted. Punishment. Atonement. Her crimes hadn’t been the crimes of a normal person; they were the crimes of a mystical creature. Now she was faced with what Anya called a reward.

Only the reward was for Buffy, not for her. To Faith, it would be her punishment. She would make sure of that. It was no more than she deserved.

So when Xander had finally slumped into his chair and stared at them all, Faith rose her eyes to meet him. He sighed.

“So what do we do?” he asked, sounding defeated.

“Nothing right now,” Buffy shrugged. “I’m going to go. Mom and Dawn are probably wondering where I am. Then I should talk to Riley.”

“What are you going to tell him?” he asked.

Buffy shrugged. “That my life is never stable. I’ll tell him what happened, and see what happens.”

“He’s going to kill me,” Xander sighed.

“It’s not your fault. I won’t let him do anything crazy. Besides…”

“What?” Xander asked.

“I don’t think,” she swallowed. “Sometimes I think Riley is…restless.”

Xander couldn’t look her in the eyes. “Do you want me to tell you that you don’t have to be honest?”

Buffy smiled a little at that. “I want to be honest with you. It makes me feel nice.”

“What about with the rest of the world?”

She nodded. “Yeah, I guess that would be weird. Could you?”

“Yeah, um, of course.” He sat up a little straighter. “I just have to…tell you?”

“I think so.”

“Okay. Um, Buffy? You don’t have to be honest anymore, if you don’t want to.”

“With other people,” Buffy finished for him.

“What?”

“I-I told you. I want to…with you.”

Anya rolled her eyes. “Just tell her to be honest only with you,” she explained. “Although I really think she shouldn’t be allowed to lie to me either.”

Xander stared at Buffy for some sign of agreement, and she nodded slightly. He swallowed again, and took a deep breath.

“Okay. Buffy. You, um, you should always tell me the truth, but just me. Okay?”

She smiled a little. “Okay.”

“I’m not really sure why you want that, but it’s your decision.”

“It turns me on,” she whispered. Her body flushed red. “I like that you have control of me, Xander.”

Xander eeped quietly. “But that’s, that’s the reward, isn’t it?”

“I don’t care what it is. I trust you, Xander. I trusted you before this. If I like it or if I don’t, you have that power over me, and if I’m not honest with you, that could be a really big problem.”

Xander sighed. “I just don’t like the idea of messing with your head, Buffy.”

Her smiled widened. “That’s why I trust you, Xander. I know you’ll do the right thing.”

A few moments passed where silence reigned. Then Xander looked to Faith. He spoke in a low voice to Buffy, although it was clear Faith could hear him.

“What do we do about her?” he asked.

“I don’t know,” she replied. “Wasn’t she in jail?”

“I was,” Faith said, her voice croaking slightly. It startled the others, as it was the first thing she’d said since being released. “Until this morning.”

“So, um, I guess you don’t want to go back, right? Silly question.”

Faith shrugged. “Be hard to explain how I got out.”

“She might not even be expected to be there,” Anya said. “If part of the reward is that she was transported here, it’s probably set up so she’s not a prisoner anymore.”

Buffy scowled at that. “She’s a murderer.”

“I’m just saying. Gimmel’s thorough like that.”

“Yeah, so thorough he forgot there were two Slayers,” Buffy scowled.

“Everyone makes mistakes.”

“Wish they wouldn’t make them on me.” Then she paused, and glanced at Xander. “At least, I think I do.”

Xander just looked at her with wide eyes and nodded. “Um, yeah.” He frowned at Faith, who spared him a quick glance before looking back at the floor. He and Anya exchanged looks, and she slid off his lap as Xander got up. He knelt down beside the couch next to Faith.

She tried not to look at him. Her heart seemed to pound as he looked at her, and she wasn’t sure what she hoped he would say. That they were taking her back? That they were going to kill her? That he forgave her? That she could make it up to him?

“Are you okay?” he asked instead. The question surprised her so much that Faith wasn’t sure how to answer. He leaned his head a little closer to her, looking up at her face, and she nearly stopped breathing when he put his hand over hers. “Last we heard you were on the redemption trip.”

She nodded silently. It was embarassing to talk about, especially in front of Buffy, who was so clearly skeptical about the whole thing.

Buffy, who suddenly seemed more attractive than ever before. Like the other girl, Anya. Two beautiful women, and Faith was having a hard time not staring at them.

Xander was worse. Was this because of the things Gimmel had done to the Slayer? She’d kind of liked girls before. Now the memory of Anya tweaking her nipples almost made her groan. She’d really liked guys before, but now the only guy in her head was Xander. Her owner. Her captor. Her warden.

Why did she wish he was other things as well?

Buffy trusted Xander. That’s part of why they were in this position, aside from Faith’s crimes ruining everything. Faith and Buffy hadn’t gotten along in so long, but she knew that Buffy was a good person. She was the opposite of Faith. A real hero, with a life that Faith had eventually learned was one she’d earned, not one handed to her. She trusted Xander, to the point where she was actually telling him to use some of his new power over her.

The thought made her shiver. What if she could trust someone like that?

Why couldn’t she? Xander had this power over her now; there was nothing she could do about that. Nothing she even wanted to do. She deserved her fate; that was crystal clear. So if Xander had this kind of ultimate control over her, wasn’t that a kind of trust? Wasn’t she trusting him with everything she had, whether she wanted to or not?

It was a heady feeling, almost a thrilling one. Faith licked her lips, and looked down at him, intent on telling him she deserved to be punished. Intent on telling him she was sorry for her crimes. Intent on telling him she would do whatever was necessary to attempt to make up for things that could never be made up for.

She opened her mouth, and frowned when the words wouldn’t come. They were right there, right on the tip of her tongue. But they seemed hollow and meaningless.

Then it bubbled up from within her, and she was unable to stop it, rushing headlong into frightening territory. Part of her was almost giddy at it, and part of her was deathly afraid. It was easier if she could just pretend this was her punishment, easier to derive no satisfaction from it at all. But looking down at his eyes, filled with a strange kind of concern and mirroring that look he’d given her earlier, Faith was unable to lie to herself.

“Could it be different?” she asked, staring into his eyes, and she knew he could see the desperation in her own. Her voice was a soft whisper, frightened and in dire need of hope. “Could it really?”

He nodded slowly. “If you want it to be. It always could be different.”

“I do,” she whispered.

“I believe you.”

She bit her lip, and felt her eyes water as she nodded at him. Xander smiled softly, and patted her hands before standing up.

“Okay, um, you can stay here until we figure things out,” he said, glancing at Anya. “Right, hun?”

“Sure,” Anya said. “As long as she’s done murdering.”

Xander frowned slightly. “She is. Right?”

Faith nodded.

“All right,” Anya sighed. “But don’t think I’m having group sex with you every day.”

“Uh, yeah,” Faith stammered. “Sure.”

“At least not if I have to be the one doing all the work,” Anya scowled. “Everyone got orgasms but me.”

Faith had actually opened her mouth to offer to rectify that situation when she caught herself, and felt her face burn red at the realization of what she was about to do. The desire to be with Xander’s beautiful girlfriend, not to mention Xander himself, was nearly overpowering.

Her brain seemed to be working overtime, flashing dozens of different images of sexual scenarios she might involve herself in, things she could do to Xander, to Anya, to Buffy, and things they could do to her. Ideas that had once been dark and secret fantasies now exploded to the forefront of her mind, and they might have troubled her had they not seemed so deliriously exciting.

Other fantasies flashed as well, and she was sure some of them were Buffy’s, or at the very least, not her own. From what Buffy had said, the two Slayers now shared every desire they’d ever had, from those that were shamefully secret to those that were wholeheartedly embraced. On top of that were other fantasies, other desires that Gimmel had added so they might enjoy the way the Hellmouth twisted Xander and Buffy’s reward.

From the perversely twisted to the sickeningly sweet, Faith burned with desire for them all.

The scariest part was the part of her that was glad. The part of her that believed Xander when he said things would be different; it saw something in all of this. If Faith was a different person, she might have recognized it for what it was.

Faith had a hard enough time finding hope when it came through normal circumstances. How was she expected to recognize it when it came in such an unorthodox way?

Xander, newly promoted, couldn’t afford to take the day off, and so was soon out the door to pretend he didn’t live a life of extreme weirdness. Despite the nervousness between them, Xander gave Buffy a ride back to her house. Anya and Faith remained behind, with Anya expressing only a few doubts about the safety of being stuck with the renegade Slayer.

Buffy stared out the window of Xander’s used car. It was so strange to think on the surreal events that had occured just a few hours before. How was she supposed to go back to her normal life after that?

What was she supposed to tell Riley? That some omnipotent superbeing had made her realize she wasn’t actually in love with him? That she’d had sex with Xander and Anya because of said superbeing?

Buffy wasn’t even sure what she was hoping for as a reply. Would he break up with her? Would he want to stay with her anyway, knowing that this might not be the end of her escapades with Xander? How would he react to all the new desires that throbbed within her?

Riley had a fairly old-fashioned outlook where sex was concerned. The wildest night they’d ever had was as a result of crazy sex magic. The thought made her snort. It seemed that Buffy Summers was unusually susceptible to magic that made her have mind-blowing sex.

“What?” Xander asked, glancing at her out of the corner of his eye as he drove.

“Just thinking about sex magic,” Buffy said, flushing a little red at her enforced honesty. For the hundredth time, she questioned why she had asked Xander to give her that order. Again, the answer was the same: It thrilled her. Deeply.

How was she supposed to stay with Riley when the very thought of Xander having that kind of control over her forced her to press her thighs together and bite the inside of her cheek to keep from moaning?

“Oh,” Xander said, turning red himself. “Uh, it’s funny?”

She shrugged. “I was thinking about how it’s not the first time I’ve had really hot sex thanks to some crazy magic.” Her eyes went wide as she spoke, and she ended in a soft, guilty whisper.

“Oh,” he said again. He swallowed audibly.

Buffy bit her lip, and tried to keep her hand from pressing between her legs. All at once, a thought flashed into her head. The thought was of her head bobbing up and down in Xander’s lap, servicing him as he drove. She whimpered softly, and quickly decided to change the subject, so as to distract her newly decadent mind.

“Um, so, Faith. Do you think it’s okay to leave her there?”

It was Xander’s turn to shrug. “I’m not sure. What about you?”

“I don’t trust her.”

Xander chuckled wryly. “There’s a surprise.”

“Yeah,” Buffy said with a slight grin. “Guess that’s not a newsflash.”

Xander nodded slowly as he turned the wheel. “Honestly, I think it’ll be okay for now. She doesn’t seem like she did back then. I think she’s scared.”

“She’s scared? What about us?” She looked at Xander pointedly. “What about you?”

“I don’t know,” Xander sighed. “I just think about her in prison. She’s been there like a year now, and she could have left at any time.”

“She’s out now,” Buffy said icily.

“Not exactly ‘The Great Escape.’ She got magicked out. I don’t think it was her idea.” He gave her a serious look before glancing back to the road. “She’s dealing with this too, Buffy. She’s probably more freaked out than you are.”

“That’s because you told me not to,” she reminded him.

“Yeah,” Xander whispered darkly. Then he pursed his lips for a moment before speaking. “But there’s more to it. You…me…we’re friends, Buffy. We loved each other before this, right?”

She nodded, feeling her eyes water at the simple affection.

“She doesn’t have that. We’re her enemies. That’s got to be scary.”

Buffy scowled slightly, and looked out the window again. “I guess.”

Smiling softly, Xander patted her gently on the knee before he seemed to realize what he was doing; pulling his hand away like it was on fire. He cleared his throat nervously.

He spoke a few minutes later, as they were nearing Buffy’s house.

“We’re going to have to tell Giles,” he said. It was almost a question, but not quite.

“I know,” Buffy said softly.

“However you want to do it, that’s how we’ll do it.”

“Do we have to tell him everything?” she asked with a pleading tone. “It’s…”

“Embarassing,” Xander finished for her.

“No!” she said, too quickly. “Well, maybe. But, it’s private. I like that it’s just us.”

“Just the four of us,” Xander scoffed. “You’re the Slayer, Buff. It’s your call. Is it a good idea to keep it from Mr. Watcherguy?”

She lowered her eyes to the floor. “No.”

His hand was back on her knee. He squeezed her gently, and Buffy found her hand resting atop his, keeping him there this time. The car pulled to a stop in front of her house. Buffy turned her head and looked into his eyes before blushing and glancing down.

“I’m sorry about all of this,” he said in a soothing voice. Buffy shook her head.

“It’s not your fault.”

“It’s still not fair. You don’t deserve to go through this.”

Buffy grinned slightly, a naughty, almost guilty grin. She couldn’t look up at him, but she felt his eyes on her as she spoke. “Xander…I’m…I don’t hate this. It’s just confusing. In a good way. In a scary way, but in a good way.”

Her eyes rose, and she felt her heart flutter as he stared down into her eyes. He seemed so big, masculine and imposing. A figure of gentle strength and deep, resonant caring.

“I have all these feelings,” she said in a conspiratorial whisper. “They’re stronger than anything I’ve ever felt. They’re good, Xander, but they’re scary too.”

“But they’re not real.”

“Aren’t they?” She shook her head slowly. “I don’t know. Maybe they aren’t natural, but they’re real, Xander. And the important ones…they’re me.”

“The important ones?”

“The ones about you.”

He blinked at her. “Oh.”

Buffy swallowed nervously, and reached up with a slightly trembling hand. She touched the side of his face, feeling the slight roughness of his shaved jaw. Xander breathed slowly, looking down at her.

“Don’t feel guilty,” she told him. “Okay, Xander? Don’t feel guilty about this. About liking it as much as you can. It feels incredible for me, so let it feel good for you, if you can.”

“But I—”

“Shh,” she hushed. Then she kissed him lightly on the lips. “I don’t know what this is going to mean, but I don’t want to hate it, and I don’t want to lose you over it.”

With enormous effort, as her body was screaming to stay with Xander and never let him go, Buffy opened the door, and stepped out of the car. She afforded him one, brief look of longing before she ran into her house, up the stairs, and into her room. She locked the door, stripped off her clothes, and didn’t emerge again for nearly an hour.