Rewards, by M. McGregor

Chapter 9

Light flashed, and Buffy frowned at her reflection. She was in Xander and Anya’s bedroom, having been given another set of Anya’s clothes. The first set had been left back at her house, abandoned when Buffy had been magically transported across town, going from working a vibrator in her wet and dripping cunt in the privacy of her own bed to the kitchen table of Xander’s apartment.

She’d never be able to forget the pure undiluted feeling of shame that washed over her when she realized Xander was there, that he’d heard all the terrible things she’d been begging of his imaginary counterpart. She would never be able to forget how she’d continued to work her vibrator in and out of her pussy even while she was nearly frozen in mortification. And she would never forget just how powerful her orgasm was as she fucked herself on Xander’s kitchen table in what was the most wanton act of her entire life.

Buffy had barely a moment to recognize that the flashing light had put her in the mirror image of Faith’s outfit when the light flashed again, and she felt two sharp bites through her nipples. She cried out with the pain of it, and dropped to her knees. She struggled to raise her hands to her breasts, but they were now secured to her side. She squeezed her eyes tightly shut and rocked her hips against the floor, whimpering in that beautiful pain.

The door swung open, and Xander rushed in. “Buffy? What’s wrong? What happened?”

“Xaannderr,” she moaned slowly, staring at his reflection in the mirror. “Ungh, my breasts…”

Xander stared for a moment before going to her side. He put an arm around her waist, his face coming close to her breasts as he did so. He helped haul her to her feet, and she stood there in those terribly high heels, feeling like she could fall over at any moment. She stared up into his eyes and breathed heavily.

“They hurt,” she whispered, panting. “Hurt so good, Xander.”

“I know,” he said, nodding carefully. He did know. She’d told him so many times earlier that day in Willow’s room. He’d played with her breasts for so long, driving her insane. The pain was throbbing away, fading, but she didn’t want it to fade.

“Please?”

“Please what?” he asked, and was that a grin on his face?

“Xander,” she whined. “Please play with them again.”

Xander reached up, brushing her hair from her face. His hand slid down to touch the side of her neck, feeling the collar she wore. He looked into her eyes. “I’ve been thinking about what you said.”

Her breathing quickened. What had she said? It was hard to remember, all she could think about were her breasts, and the throbbing need within them. She tried to step forward against him, but his hand on her waist held her firm. She whimpered again.

“You said that you’re mine,” he whispered. “Is that true?”

“Yes,” she hissed, closing her eyes and luxuriating on the word. “Yours.”

“The things you said outside, did you mean them?”

Her body burned red with shame. She had to be honest. “So much. All of it. Every word, Xander. More.”

“Wow,” Xander whispered in shock. “I’ve never…I mean. Wow. Even…the licking?”

She nodded guiltily. Xander leaned his head down close to hers. “Does it excite you?”

She nodded again.

“I did that once,” he admitted. “To Anya. Took her a long time to convince me. Lots of scrubbing beforehand. She went crazy for it.”

Buffy was nearly crying with lust, panting heavily and leaning her weight against him. “Oh god. Xander.”

“So what I’m saying is that…I could probably make some of those things happen.”

“Yes,” she pleaded. “Xander, oh— Ah!”

He reached up and tweaked her nipple, and she was unable to think for a moment. She cried out his name, and felt tears in her eyes. When he let go, she sagged against him. He put his arms around her, and lowered her to the bed. She let him, and stared up at him complacently. He hovered over her, and brushed the hair from her face again.

“I want to tell you something,” he said, caressing her face.

“Okay,” she purred, pressing after his hand to make the touch linger.

“Is it okay if I tell you that I love you? That I respect you?”

She frowned up at him, and wished he would kiss her. “I know you do.”

He shook his head. “I never want you to doubt it.”

Her mouth opened as she understood his meaning. “Oh…yes. Please, Xander. Tell me.” It thrilled her, the idea of him exerting that control. Was this Xander accepting the things that were happening? Was this him beginning to do some of the things she’d been dreaming about all day?

“Okay,” he said, and kissed her on the nose. She moaned and bent her head back to catch his lips with hers. He accepted the kiss, and his tongue touched gently against hers. She sucked it softly as he pulled back, magnetically drawn to his touch for as long as she could make it linger. “Buffy, you’ll always know that I love you and that I respect you. It doesn’t matter what you do. It doesn’t matter what your fantasies are. Always.”

He was over her, looking down at her with quiet assertiveness. She wished she could put her arms around him, but the helplessness of knowing he set the pace was darkly exciting. He touched the side of her face again, and stared into her eyes.

“I’m trusting that,” he said. “I’m trusting what I see there, Buffy. Do you understand?”

She nodded, unable to take her eyes from him. Her heart swelled, because she knew he would love her always, knew there was nothing she could do to ever make it go away.

“If it’s all back to normal tomorrow, don’t hate me, please.”

“Could never,” Buffy whispered, and leaned her head up to kiss him again. “We proved it.”

He grinned slightly. “Sort of. But I’ll go with it.” He stroked her cheek, and she closed her eyes at the touch. “I won’t feel guilty anymore, Buffy. We’ll just go with it, the both of us, and if we wake up someday and regret it all…”

“We won’t,” she insisted. “I won’t.” She opened her eyes again. “Riley’s gone.”

He raised an eyebrow. “Gone?”

“Back to the Initiative.”

“Are you okay with that?”

“I-I think so.”

“Faith’s part of this,” he said, suddenly. “Can you deal with that?”

“I don’t like her,” Buffy said, truthfully. “I don’t trust her.”

“Do you trust me?”

“Obviously,” she said, unable to stifle her grin. He kissed her lightly, and she moaned.

“She’s changed,” he whispered in her ear. “I hope you’ll see that, eventually.”

“I’ll try.”

“You were looking at her,” Xander said, his breath hot in her ear. “Did you know that?”

Buffy shivered and whimpered. Xander’s hand slid down her front, and slipped a finger through one of her rings. “Did you?” He gave it a light pull.

“Yes!” Buffy groaned, her back arching. “Yes. I did. She’s… god, she’s so beautiful.”

“You don’t like her,” Xander said. “But are you attracted to her?”

“Yes,” she repeated, quieter.

“Were you before today?”

Buffy went silent. She stared up at him. He looked back down at her, and it was clear he was going to let the question hang there until she answered. Her hips rolled as her pussy clenched.

“Yes,” she whispered for the third time. “I was. I was, Xander.”

He grinned, and kissed her again, pulling on her ring as he did so. She screamed against his lips, and gasped as she felt a finger brush against her lower lips. She rocked her hips to try and capture more of his touch.

“I don’t blame you. I was attracted to her too.” He slid down her body, and kissed her left nipple, and gently bit on the right. Buffy writhed on the bed, tugging at her bonds in an attempt to touch him, to touch herself, and to remind her where she was and what her position was. Xander slid back up, and smiled before her eyes. She stared into them, and then gasped as his finger slipped inside her sopping pussy. Her eyes went wide, and she arched her back towards him. “Do you know who else I’m attracted to?”

Her body seemed to curl towards him, and she gasped, “Me?”

“You,” he confirmed with another kiss. It was longer this time, and she savored the taste of his tongue, the hot wetness of it. She rolled with every thrust of his finger, whimpering and squealing as she breathed through her nose. When he pulled back, she whined and tried to followed after him, but he pushed her gently back down.

“Xander?” she breathed in a quiet voice, wondering why he was denying her the pleasure of their kiss. He brushed his thumb across her forehead, and smiled at her.

“Buffy?” he asked.

“Yes?”

“Can I have you?”

“You already do,” she said, her voice high and full of need. “You have me. It says so on my collar,” she added with a naughty grin, feeling undeniably risqué.

He grinned back at her. “So it does. Lucky me, huh?”

“No,” she said, shaking her head seriously. “Lucky me.”

“Luck all around, then.” He kissed her, and slipped a second finger inside of her. Buffy groaned loudly into his mouth, and this time he let the kiss linger, not pulling away. Buffy was the one who had to break the kiss, not because she didn’t want to taste him, but because she could hardly breathe and needed to gasp for air. Her body undulated with the plunging rhythm of his fingers, and she began to chant his name softly as she felt herself reaching the peak yet again.

“You’re mine,” Xander whispered hotly in her ear, and her body stiffened as she tried to hold off the orgasm as long as possible, tried to endure forever if she could. “But the truth is, I was always yours, first.”

“Xander,” she whined, nearly incoherently. His fingers cupped into her pussy, and he actually pushed her up the bed a little with the force of it. She hiccupped loudly in a strange gasp/squeal.

“Cum for me, Buffy. That’s an order.”

She did, and her scream was muffled by his lips over hers, lips that had once pressed against hers and breathed life into her. Nothing ever felt so right as feeling life burn back into her, and she felt reborn as he kissed her, as her entire world was Xander, the pleasure, and the love.

Buffy blinked away tears she hadn’t realized had formed, and sank back against the bed. Xander’s fingers slid from her, and she moaned pitiably. Then he brought his fingers up to her face. They were wet with her juices, and smelled of sex. Her eyes went wide, pupils dilating. Xander offered the fingers to her silently.

She sucked his index finger into her mouth, and ran her tongue along it, tasting his flesh and her arousal. Buffy licked clean each of his fingers individually, and could not remember ever doing something so erotic. It was only the first step, she knew. Because she was Xander’s, and Xander would always love her, no matter what.

She was about to thank him when the door swung open, and Anya’s voice rang out.

“It’s very rude to have sex when it’s time for dinner,” she said. “We’re waiting for you, and I’m very hungry.”

Buffy stomach made a quiet growling sound. Xander smirked at her, and glanced back at Anya. “So’s Buffy.”

“Sexual activity burns lots of calories,” Anya stated. “We can all have lots of sex after we eat.” She grinned expectantly. “Perhaps I can negotiate a similar orgasm deal with Buffy!”

Buffy blinked and mouthed, “Orgasm deal?”

“You’ll see,” Xander answered, kissing her on the forehead. “If you’re lucky.”

“I am,” she said, still breathing heavily.

“It’s good that you’re no longer plagued by the guilt of your puritan upbringings,” Anya remarked. “But I’m hungry, and we still have to talk about sleeping arrangements and what we’re going to do tomorrow. We’ll be lucky if there’s any time left for an orgy.”

Xander rolled his eyes and sat up. He slipped a hand beneath Buffy’s back, and easily lifted her off the bed. She smiled sheepishly at him as she teetered onto her heels, and rolled her hips slightly in an attempt to get her thong to cover her pussy. It wasn’t working. Xander noticed and gave her a naughty grin, then reached down and adjusted it for her. He patted his hand gently over her mound, and then looked back up to Anya, who glowered at him.

“Sorry, Ahn,” he said, reaching his hand out for her. She frowned but stepped over to him, and let herself be pulled in for a quick kiss. She smacked her lips afterwards.

“What’s that taste?”

“Buffy’s lipstick,” he admitted.

“That’s surprisingly arousing,” Anya said, and kissed him again with more tongue. After, she licked her lips. “Maybe you should start wearing lipstick from now on.”

Xander laughed. “Ah, no, don’t think I’ll be doing that.”

Anya frowned. “But I like it.”

“Lucky for me, I know where you can get a nice lipsticky kiss whenever you want,” Xander said, squeezing Buffy with his other hand. Anya followed his gaze and looked at Buffy. “I bet if you ask nicely, Buffy would kiss you.”

“I could also negotiate a deal with Faith to get her to wear Buffy’s brand,” Anya agreed. “She seems very happy to kiss me, and she’s very adept at it.”

Buffy groaned a little at the thought of all the hot kissing. Xander nudged her gently. “Buffy, maybe you should give Anya an apologetic kiss for delaying dinner.”

“Oh, yes!” Anya said happily. “Households, like any organization, need rules, punishments, and rewards. I could start a list.”

“Maybe later,” Xander said with a grin. “What do you say, Buffy?”

Her mouth opened, and Buffy licked her lips. She could still taste her own juices on them, but her lipstick lingered as well. Then she blinked, and remembered that she hadn’t actually been wearing lipstick. She’d washed it off in the shower. Yet now she could clearly taste it on her lips.

She looked at Anya, who watched her expectantly. Buffy swallowed.

“I’m sorry, Anya,” she said as evenly as possible. “C-Could I, um, make it up to you?”

“All right,” Anya sighed. “But just a kiss hardly seems fair.”

Drawing up her courage, Buffy bit the inside of her cheek before speaking. “I-I could do more,” she suggested. “For you.”

Anya’s face lit up in a smile. “We can negotiate a settlement over dinner, but I’ll take a kiss as a sign of good faith.”

“I think there’s a good Faith waiting outside for us,” Xander joked. Anya smacked him on the chest.

“Quiet,” she said. “You’ll mess up my negotiation.” She looked to Buffy. “Well?”

Buffy flushed, and stared at Anya’s wet and kissable lips. “Yes,” she said, and she knew they could both hear the eagerness in her voice. Anya grinned, and leaned forward. Buffy’s breath caught in her throat, and she leaned forward as well. Anya’s hand went around the back of her head, and pulled her in. Their lips touched, and Buffy’s eyes closed. She moaned softly, and felt Anya’s tongue poking at her lips. Buffy’s parted, and the tongue slid into her mouth, hot, wet, and insistent. She let it explore passively, only softly pressing back against it. She wasn’t sure how much time had passed when she suddenly felt a tug on her left ring, and gasped loudly.

Anya grinned at her. “That was very nice. You’re a good kisser.”

“Thanks,” Buffy said breathlessly. “You’re… incredible.” She couldn’t think of another word for it, and she couldn’t believe she was still so aroused. Anya’s smile lit the dark room.

“I’m glad you realized that,” Anya said happily. “I’m hoping to convince as many people as I can before I die.”

“You got me,” Buffy told her. Anya gave her another kiss, a quick peck on the lips.

“I think we’ll keep you too.”

Buffy had no idea what to say. So she said, “Thank you.”

It seemed appropriate, and in more ways than one.

When Xander, Buffy, and Anya emerged from the bedroom, Faith tried not to stare. What they did wasn’t any of her business, and she didn’t have any right to feel left out. Besides, Anya had stayed outside with her, chatting about how efficient a worker Faith was for a long time, until she’d finally grown fed up and went to go “remind them that it’s food time, not sex time.”

Still, Faith felt very awkward when the three of them joined her in the main area of the apartment. Oddly enough, it was more that she felt like an intruder to a dynamic that was already well established than because she was dressed for sex. Buffy, after all, was dressed the same way, and damn did she look good, especially with that sheen of sweat and the way she was kind of out of breath.

It was Buffy that really made her feel out of place, Faith knew. With Xander, there was the Difference allowing her to feel comfortable — or perhaps comforted — in his presence. Anya wasn’t someone she’d really known before, and her relationship was built on the whirlwind of sex that they’d experienced that morning and afternoon.

Buffy was Buffy. The bad blood between them was so intense that Faith sometimes wondered if it might not be genetic. They were enemies, she and Buffy, and while it was Faith who had made them that way, Buffy held no qualms about maintaining that level of hostility.

Standing in the middle of the room and wishing she could cross her arms or otherwise seem nonchalant, Faith instead tried not to draw attention to herself, a far cry from the carefully cultivated persona she’d had her first time in Sunnydale.

So she was surprised when Xander stepped casually across the room, and put his arm around her shoulder like he was her best friend in the world.

“Hey, sorry we made you wait on the food, Faith. That’s like a slayable offense as far as I’m concerned.”

Faith looked at his face, searching for the look of hatred or anger that would surely be there. It wasn’t there, and she realized that his words hadn’t been meant as a snide remark concerning her past deeds. He seemed to notice she was staring, and waggled his eyebrows with a grin before patting her lightly on the stomach. Her abs tensed, and the butterflies fluttered.

“Hungry?” he asked.

“Yes,” Anya answered for her, brushing past them and sitting at the end of the table. She picked up a napkin and unfolded it before placing it in the collar of her shirt. It made her look ridiculous, but she seemed not to notice.

“I guess I’ll trust your boss on this one,” Xander joked. He glanced to Anya and moved around Faith to pull out a chair, and gently guided Faith into it. “You know, Ahn, you’re supposed to give your workers one half-hour lunch break.”

“I never agreed to that!” Anya scoffed, reaching over the table to pick a few pieces of chicken. “If she wanted a lunch break, she should have made that one of her demands.”

“Lesson learned,” Xander said, patting Faith’s shoulder as he moved around to the other end of the table, pulling out a chair for Buffy and leading her gently to it as well. Faith glanced down so as not to meet Buffy’s gaze as the similarly attired girl took her seat across from her. “Anya’s not an advocate of worker’s rights.”

“It’s their fault if they don’t negotiate the proper terms,” Anya argued, taking a bite.

“You better be careful, Ahn, or Faith might decide to go on strike next time.” He grinned and finally moved to the head of the table, pulling out his own chair and taking a seat. Faith had just enough time to wonder how she was going to eat with her hands fastened to her hips when the light flashed, and she was suddenly elsewhere.

“Whoa!” she heard Xander exclaim. “Man, that’s going to take some getting us…” he trailed off, and Faith twisted her head, trying to see.

She was on her knees, blindfolded and had her arms secured in that tight leather sleeve behind her back. She struggled a little, and realized that the sleeve was connected to a bar that was itself connected between her ankle cuffs, keeping her kneeling with her legs slightly spread. Frowning, she wondered how the hell she was going to eat now. She was starving.

A brief tug against her nipples made her gasp.

“Ack, sorry,” she heard Xander say. The soft tinkle of chains told her he was fiddling with something. He growled softly. “Damn, it’s all one piece.”

“What is?” Anya asked.

“They’re both chained to the chair,” Xander said, and she could hear the disapproval in his voice.

“Both?” Buffy asked, and Faith heard soft shuffling and a few grunts.

“Uh, yeah,” Xander replied. Faith’s stomach growled.

“You’ll have to feed them,” Anya said off-handedly. “Probably would have had to anyway, with their arms stuck the way they were.”

Faith heard Buffy moan quietly, and struggled not to herself. She shifted to her left, and felt Xander’s thigh. She was kneeling beside him, and she needed him to feed her if she was going to eat. The idea made her squirm.

“Yeah,” Xander said slowly, drawing out the word. He sighed, and Faith felt his warm hand against her shoulder. “You okay?”

“Yeah,” Faith replied. “Just hungry.”

“Uh, original or extra crispy?” he asked with as jovial a tone as he could muster.

“Extra crispy?”

“Gotcha.” She heard him shift in his seat.

“Buff?”

“Hmm?”

“Original or extra crispy.”

“Oh,” Buffy murmured. “Um, e-extra crispy for me too.”

“Ah, now I know why I like you two so much,” Xander said, and she could hear his grin. She was glad he was keeping it light, not making a huge deal out of things. It kept it from being frightening. Instead, he let it be almost exciting for her. Faith licked her lips, anticipating what she knew was coming, and looking forward to it more for how she would be fed than simply because she was hungry.

Blindfolded and on her knees, Faith did her best to focus on her other senses. She realized she was writhing gently in a soft rocking motion, attempting to bring some relief to the fire burning inside of her. Xander’s hand touched her gently on her bare shoulder, and she cocked her head.

“Um, okay, I guess, uh, open your mouth,” Xander said to her, his voice coming close in her ear, and she could feel his breath on her skin. Faith licked her lips, and opened her mouth. A moment later she felt the food on the tip of her tongue, and moved her head slightly forward to take it in her mouth. As she closed her lips over it, she tasted the very tips of his fingers, and moaned slightly.

“Good?”

He was asking about the food, she knew. And it was good, but it wasn’t why she’d moaned. Faith nodded as she chewed.

“Your turn, Buff,” Xander said. “Open.”

Buffy must have, for a few seconds later Faith heard a soft sucking sound. Xander cleared his throat, and Buffy purred happily. Faith furrowed her brow beneath her blindfold.

Xander turned back to her, and she opened her mouth once more. This time, when she went to take a bite, she put her mouth over his fingertips, and sucked gently, running her tongue along them before pulling back with a little kissing sound. Xander swallowed audibly, and Faith allowed herself a little grin. Two could play at this game.

And a game it was. Without a word spoken between them, without even a conscious effort to do so, Faith and Buffy were soon locked in a sensuous battle to see who could take the food from Xander’s fingers in the sexiest way possible. Soon they were both licking and sucking at his hand whenever it was their turn, making cooing sounds that were ostensibly about the food, but were in reality about his touch and the eroticism of the situation.

Anya, as always, was the one to point out the truth.

“That seems much more exciting than when we did it,” she remarked to Xander.

“What?” he asked, distracted.

“When we incorporated food into our sex. I wonder what the difference is. Maybe the blindfold?”

“Uh, we’re not, I mean this isn’t about sex,” Xander said quickly, his fingers retreating from Faith’s hot, wet mouth, which had been happily sucking on his middle finger.

“You’re the only person I know who can moan like that for food, Xander. And they aren’t even eating Twinkies.”

Faith heard Buffy stifle a giggle at Anya’s observation. It was so strange to think they could be teasing and laughing during all of this. She felt suddenly very out of place. Yet instead of drawing into herself, she followed some new instinct, and leaned against Xander’s thigh, resting her head in his lap. His hand automatically rested atop her head, stroking her hair, and she felt that feeling of loneliness eradicated thanks to his touch. She smiled softly; glad she’d figured out something that felt kind of important.

Xander’s fingers paused in stroking her hair, and he let out a quiet, “huh” as if he was just realizing something. His other hand must have been feeding Buffy still, because she could hear the soft suckling sounds as well as Buffy’s moans of approval. Faith’s smile widened. Maybe Buffy was sucking on Xander’s fingers, but Faith was resting her head in his lap and he was stroking her hair so lovingly and gently that she thought she might fall asleep in that position.

Maybe she wasn’t so out of place here, because Xander wasn’t going to let her be out of place. He was in charge. He was the Difference. And he was going to help her. Faith smiled, and relaxed, occasionally mewling contentedly when Xander would bring some food to her lips. He never commented on her resting her head against him. If it wasn’t for the soft stroking of her hair, she might have believed he hadn’t even noticed.

Xander and Anya chatted for the remainder of the meal, speaking through the occassional moans, slurps, and sucking noises that came from both Faith and Buffy. They kept things surprisingly normal, albeit the kind of normal that only came from a Sunnydaler. There was talk of demons, talk of patrolling for vampires, and even some talk of the new strangeness with Faith and Buffy.

Anya, it seemed, was of two minds when it came to the subject. She was very helpful in coming up with possible sources of information regarding Gimmel and the rewards, but constantly impressed upon Xander that she’d never heard of a reward being reversed.

“After all,” she’d said. “It’s a reward. It would be like winning the town pool and getting ten fat pigs and a mule and then turning them down. You just don’t do that kind of thing!”

Sometimes Anya had a little trouble with keeping her analogies in the right time frame, but they all understood her meaning. As it was, Faith wasn’t entirely sure she was looking forward to getting the Reward voided, especially not when she felt so safe.

She was out of prison, and despite being bound, on her knees, and blindfolded, she felt freer than she ever had in her life. The weight of who she was and what she’d been felt lifted from her, and as she dozed serenely in Xander’s lap, she felt a sudden chill at the thought of suddenly losing those feelings. With the reward gone, she would be back in prison and facing a lifetime of solitude in more ways than one.

But wasn’t that what she deserved? Was it right for her to feel happy or safe, loved or cared for? She was a killer, and that could never be changed.

Or could it? Wasn’t that what she and Angel were all about? Atoning for past sins, changing to be a newer, better person? She couldn’t change who she’d been, but she could change who she became. And Xander…He could help her.

No. Already was helping her. The old Faith could have never knelt there in such a vulnerable position and felt any kind of peace. Peace in general was a foreign concept to her, up until she’d finally given herself over to the police. Even then, it was a fleeting emotion, and now that she was in it, she wanted to grab hold of it and keep it for as long as she could.

Sighing, Faith did her best to shift closer to Xander, and sighed softly. His thumb brushed against her temple absent-mindedly. In that moment, she truly did feel like a different person. How, when she felt so peaceful and secure, could she imagine ever hurting someone?

Tears stung at her eyes, and her remorse washed over her, stronger than ever before. Faith welcomed it, embraced it, and bathed in its fire. This was important; this was what she had to feel. Without it, she could never get beyond who she’d been. Without it, she was always a killer at heart.

Kneeling beside Xander with her head in his lap and his gentle hand stroking her hair, she could face it. She could face it head on for the first time ever, because she knew she wasn’t alone. She belonged somewhere. She belonged to him.

And for some strange reason, that made all the Difference.

Buffy wasn’t sure whether to be grateful or disappointed as Xander drove her back to her house. For the second time that day she sat beside him in his car, wearing borrowed clothes and recalling the feel of leather and metal holding her in place. Licking her lips, she thought she could taste the odd mixture of his fingers, her juices, and the meal he’d fed to her by hand.

Her bonds had vanished once dinner was over and it was clear that the day was winding down. The timing was oddly lucky, as it meant Xander could bring her home without Buffy having to explain her cuffs, collar, and other odd garments to her mother, or worse — to Dawn. That was definitely something she was not ready for. It was bad enough that they were all going to Giles’s new shop tomorrow to start their research in earnest.

Buffy stared out the window, and smiled softly at the darkness outside. She was feeling kind of nice. The evening, while deeply mortifying, had also been incredible arousing, and was a perfect example of just how fulfilling her new and enhanced feelings could be. Add to that the fact that Xander seemed to be more accepting of what might be, and she was finding it hard not to fantasize about all that the future might bring.

Assuming that they didn’t find some way to rid themselves of the reward. Something she wasn’t so sure would fill her with happiness. Frankly, she hoped that if the reward was ended that she could still keep this new bond she felt with Xander. She felt free with him, like she could dive into pieces of herself she’d never acknowledged.

After all, he would love her always, no matter what she did, no matter what she dreamed of. Her smile widened, and she found herself giddy about the order he’d given her to never doubt his love for her. It was exactly the kind of thing she wanted him to be able to do with their new situation. There was no doubt in her mind about his feelings for her, and the feeling of freedom and security that gave her was incredible.

There had, of course, been a few doubts. Not about her feelings for Xander, because she was indeed incapable of having them now. No, they were doubts about herself. With Xander having that kind of control over her, she could never really be sure of her own thoughts ever again, could she? Her entire life might be a fabrication.

Ultimately, however, she was forced to abandon that worry. It was simply not something she had any control over one way or the other. She had to trust not only in Xander, but also in herself, her gut, and the fact that he’d been unable to order her to not love him. At a certain point, she simply had to go on faith; otherwise she would drive herself crazy. And she found, thanks to Xander’s order not to freak out, that she could put that fear aside rather easily, and simply enjoy.

Because regardless of anything else, she was in a good mood in that moment.

“You’re quiet,” Xander pointed out suddenly. “What’re you thinking about?”

“Mind control,” she said with a little grin. “And how I have to trust my gut. And you.”

“Probably kind of scary, huh? Don’t know what’s you and what’s an order.”

Buffy shrugged. “You’d think so,” she said, smiling at him softly. “But I think I’m dealing. And at least I know there are some things you can’t change.”

“Yeah, but how do you know that I didn’t just tell you to think that I couldn’t change you, but that I actually could change whatever I wanted?”

“Did you?” she asked, pointedly.

“No.”

“I believe you.”

“Just like that? How do you know I didn’t ord—”

“Xander,” she cut him off. “At the end of the day, I don’t know for sure. It’s a philosophy thing. We learned a little about it in class. How do you really know anything? How do you know some super being didn’t just make you believe that you’re Xander, that you live in Sunnydale, and that Anya’s your girlfriend?”

Xander frowned. “I guess I don’t.”

“Yeah. You just go on faith.”

“Interesting choice of words.”

She grinned. “I guess so. I just mean that I have to have faith in what my reality is. I trust you. I don’t know if it’s because maybe you ordered me to and then told me to forget the order, but I trust you. That’s just my reality.”

“You don’t deserve it,” Xander said, sighing.

“Xander, I don’t want to go through this again. I thought you were dealing.”

“I’m trying.”

“It sounds scarier than it is,” she assured him. “I mean, I know I trust you, right?”

“Yeah. So?”

“Well, like, I trust mom and Dawn too. How do I know something didn’t make me feel that way about them too? The point is that it doesn’t matter. I love them and I trust them, and whatever the reason for it is, it’s what I am.”

“Buffy it’s just…” he sighed. “I don’t know that I should be in charge of something like that. It’s too big.”

She smiled, and leaned over, resting her head against his shoulder as he drove. “You should be. It’s why you are.” She exhaled softly. “Too bad I can’t order you not to worry about it.”

He snorted. “Well you could, but I don’t know that I’d listen.”

“Well then I order you not to worry about it.”

“I’ll try,” he promised.

“Besides,” she added, her honesty compelling her to continue. “It’s exciting, too. Total control. It gets me kind of hot to think that you really could do anything to me, Xander. It’s…it’s the ultimate submission.”

He pulled up to her house. Buffy lifted her head, and looked shyly at the floor. Xander reached out, cupping the side of her face, and looking into her eyes.

“I never saw you as the submissive type,” he whispered. “You were always too strong for that.”

She opened her mouth to argue, but he shushed her.

“But I’m starting to think that…that maybe it takes real strength to do this, Buffy. I could never do it. I’d be too scared.” He smiled, staring into her eyes. “You amaze me.”

Her eyes watered and she gazed back at him. He brushed a strand of hair from her face with his other hand, and the cupped the other side of her face as well.

“Even in this, you inspire me, Buffy. You’re the bravest person I’ve ever met.”

She blushed and looked away, trying not to let her grin engulf her entire face, and trying not to cry. “For a brave person, my stomach is flip-flopping an awful lot.”

He laughed gently, then leaned forward and kissed her gingerly, a quick peck on the lips. Then he paused, and they kissed again, slower and deeper. She moaned, melting against him.

“I won’t worry about it,” he promised. “Because you give me the courage to have faith in all of it.”

Smiling and blinking through her tears, she kissed him again. “I’m strong because of you,” she whispered. “You keep me going.”

“Guess we better stick together then,” he grinned.

“Can we?” she asked.

“If I’m lucky,” he answered.

Buffy kissed him one last time, and then slid out of the car. She felt her neck, and the absence of the collar that marked her as his. She looked back at him.

“I’ll see you tomorrow,” she said.

“Yeah.”

“Maybe, um, maybe I could come over before we go to the shop?”

“Yeah, sure. Just pop on by.”

She grinned. “I probably will, you know. Pop in.”

“Oh yeah. Could get to be a habit.”

“I hope so,” she said without thought. Xander goggled at her, and she blushed. “Um, I should go. Before I say more bad things.” Buffy bit her lips, her face growing red. Her eyes closed. “I think I’m going to be horny for the rest of my life.”

Xander coughed. “Well! Yeah. I should go too. Anya’s waiting for me. And uh, Faith. She wanted to talk to me about some stuff. So I should go. Good luck with the, um,” he waved his hand. “Yeah. With that.”

Buffy bit back a grin, and nodded at him. He was so cute when he was flustered. She told him so, and his face grew redder. He gave her a hasty goodbye, and quickly pulled away. With a content smile on her face, Buffy strode back to her house, where she would go up to her room, take off her clothes, masturbate to what was surely her hundredth orgasm of the day, go to sleep, and hope that she woke up in Xander’s apartment.