Disclaimer: I blame Kennedy on Joss.

Author’s note: Some Dialogue taken from ‘Dirty Girls’ Beta’d by the fab BTL.
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Chapter 45: Dirty Laundry

Buffy moved downstairs to find herself some non slaying type clothes. This whole do gooding thing was hell on the wardrobe. She’d always been a clothes horse, but lately, the assortment of ‘sensible’ leather pants, sweaters and comfy clothes was just not her style. They clearly were Liz’s though. No wonder new people to their happy little army thought they were twins. Buffy had even started wearing her hair like Liz. The curls had long been straightened and she was wearing it back and up, for the ease of the slaying.

Her mother would be horrified.

Buffy opened a portal to her own closet in Arashamahar and began to peruse the contents, hoping to find something there to get herself out of her funk. Maybe she could even entice Spike away from the ‘saving of the world’ to have a romantic night alone.

Finding a tartan mini and her Sex Pistols tee, she changed quickly. Buffy was in the mood for something loud, and not of the girly variety. There was enough potential chatter in the house for a lifetime quota of the girly.

Buffy passed through the portal to return back to the basement only to hear that new girl, Faith’s voice along side her mate’s.

“Hey, to each his own, man. This one guy I ran with, he liked me to dress up like a school girl and take this friggin' bull-whip, and I'd be like...”

“Well, it’s not like we use them, what with the bitty slayers up above in their peaceful, virginal sleeping bags,” came Spike’s voice.

Buffy raised an eyebrow at that. She didn’t quite follow what they were talking about. She knew that Faith couldn’t see her from her vantage point, being on the stairs, but Spike could definitely feel her around. Maybe Faith could too, she was a slayer after all, according to Liz.

“Exercising restraint? You?” Faith questioned. “I’ve seen the way you look at her, you’re gone, man. I half expect to see a collar and leash. Though for the life of me I can’t figure out which one of you should be wearing them. I still can’t tell which one’s which though.”

Spike laughed at that. “Buffy’s the evil one,” he joked.

Buffy peered around the pile of boxes she was hiding behind and glared at her mate. He raised his eyebrow at her from across the basement.

“Man, then you haven’t seen Liz when she was trying to save her boy Angel. Wicked scary.” There was a loud masse spurt of giggles from upstairs interrupting her train of thought. “No more Starbucks for the wannabe's man. They've been spazzing for, like, hours.”

“Yeah, does get a bit much up there,” Spike conceded.

“They're good girls. Just green is all,” added Faith.

“So, why aren't you up there...imparting?” he asked.

“That's Liz's thing. Anyway, I just spent a good stretch of time locked away with a mess of female-types. Kinda had my fill.”

“Hm.… but you waited until Angel needed your help to bust out of jail?,” Spike questioned.

“Three squares, nice weight room, movie every third Sunday. Could've been worse.”

“What movie?”

“Last one was Glitter. I guess it couldn't have been worse.”

“You had the power to walk away anytime. Nothing to stop you.”

“I stopped me. I got dangerous for a while.”

There was the rustling of fabric and Buffy’s demon heart started beating faster. Was this slayer putting the moves on her mate?

Spike sensed her discomfort and sent her some loving, calming thoughts back.

“You over it?” Spike asked the slayer.

“More or less. I pull for the good guys now.”

“What's the less?”

“The usual stuff...” offered Faith vaguely.

“Such as?”

“I was thinking about looking up the guy with the bull-whip. Long incarceration,” noted Faith.

Spike laughed at Faith’s comment. “You could do better. School girl thing's old hat.”

“It's all old-hat, man. Every guy's got some whack fantasy. Scratch the surface of any granola-type dude...naughty nurses and horny cheerleaders. I figure, if you can't beat 'em...”

“Join 'em.”

“Just don't forget who's on top,” observed Faith.

“That, I suspect, would be you.”

“You got that right.” Movement caught Buffy’s eye and she watched as Faith walked over to the cot and sat down. “I've met you before, you know.”

“Yeah, you made a great impression on my chin.”

“Not in the graveyard. Before that. I was kinda wearing a different body.”

“Pity.”

“You seemed okay with it.”

“The body swap. With Liz,” he offered knowingly.

“She fill you in on that whole deal?”

“She told me it went down. Failed to mention who was driving her skin around.”

“I may have said a few things...“

“Like you could ride me at a gallop 'til my knees buckle, squeeze me 'til I pop like warm champagne. That's not the kind of thing a man forgets.”

Buffy had had enough. This girl was making her feel jealous and she hated that. She’d been jealous of Drusilla for over a century. Enough was enough.

“Should've known it wasn't blondie behind the wheel. She'd never throw down like that,” noted Faith.

With a grit of her teeth, Buffy teleported across the basement and landed, seated on Spike’s lap, her arms eagerly wrapping around his neck.

“I was wondering when you’d show up,” he noted, half sarcastically.

Buffy flashed him a coy smile. “Missed you,” she said, before cocking her head down to lick the bite marks on his neck.

“I’m sure you did, luv.”

“What the hell are you?” asked Faith, a little taken aback my Buffy’s entrance.

“Immortal Slayer, version one point oh,” noted Buffy with a false smile. “Have you been getting to know Faith?” she asked her mate.

“You know exactly what I’ve been doing, you silly bint,” he growled playfully.

“I was thinking, if you are up for the rest of the day, that we’d go clubbing,” she offered.

“Now?” asked Faith.

“Is that what this get up is for?” asked Spike, paying no attention to Faith.

“Please?” she asked sweetly.

The basement door opened and down stepped Liz, a hard glare on her face.

“Hey Z,” greeted Faith.

“Well, it's nice to see you three getting along so well,” observed Liz, clearly annoyed.

“Yeah. Uh, you just know all the cool vampires,” said Faith shifting in her seat. “And whatever the hell Buffy is.”

“Yeah,” spat Liz.

“Hey, aren't you usually at work 'bout now?” asked Spike.

“I kind of decided to cut back on my hours,” explained Liz.

“Liz?” came Dawn’s voice from upstairs. “Is that you?”

Liz yelled back up to her sister without taking her eyes off the trio sitting on the cot. “Figured I'd be better off focusing on what's going on around here,” spat Liz, glaring at those in front of her.

Dawn was suddenly standing at the top of the stairs looking down at her sister, and the rest of them in the basement. “Liz, Willow just called from the hospital. The girl's awake.”

Liz nodded and returned up the stairs, past the stationary Dawn who was glaring at Faith, then looked questioningly at Buffy and Spike.

“Careful Dawn,” said Buffy cheerfully. “Someone might think you wanted vengeance on Faith here.”

“If I did, I have a few people I can call, she’s just better be glad I’m giving her a free pass, ‘cause the world’s ending and all.” Dawn turned and closed the basement door on the trio.

“She doesn’t like you much, does she?” Buffy stated rather than asked.

“Try to kill her sister a few times, threaten her mother, you get the feeling that there’s some hatred. Doesn’t get me into little Dawnie’s good books that’s for sure,” noted Faith, standing up off the cot and walking towards the stairs.

“Doesn’t get you in mine either,” whispered Buffy as Faith walked up the steps to the main floor.

“Liz needs her, love,” noted Spike nuzzling against his mate’s neck.

“Maybe, doesn’t mean I have to like her. I’m half tempted to grant Dawn a wish,” she added and Spike gave her a look and Buffy raised her hands up off his neck in protest. “I know! I’m not going to, so stop looking at me like that, Mr. Fairchilde! I’m tempted is all.” Buffy raised her hands up off his neck in protest.
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Buffy portaled back from the mess that was the raid on the vineyard, carrying an one eyed, and bleeding Xander. His screams of pain, the wound from what once used to be his eye tore at her heart. He didn’t deserve this. For all he’d done to Anya, even this seemed wrong. It was an injury that she herself would have thought just, after the botched wedding. But now?

As she settled Xander into a wheelchair outside the emergency department of Sunnydale Memorial and began to wheel him in through the sliding doors, an odd thought came through her head.

She’d changed.

Would she do this kind of thing to anyone else on the planet? Even if they were abusers, molesters, or deadbeats? The nurses finally came scurrying towards Xander and attended to his eye.

The answer came thundering through her head.

Probably not.

Maybe, in her few short months with Dawn and Liz in their happy little army camp, Erixel had disappeared. All that was left, was Buffy.

Xander was wheeled away, by the nurses, leaving Buffy standing in the emergency room all alone. She didn’t want to be here, Xander, his eye, was a reminder of something she didn’t want to think about. By now, the fallen and the defeated Slayers and potentials were back at the house. Soon, Willow or Liz would be at his side. There was someone else that needed to be there too.

Buffy stepped back out the sliding doors and portaled to Arashamahar and Anya’s throne room.

“Hey, Rixy, what’s up?” asked Anya over the top of her latest Cosmo. “How’s life in Slayer land?”

“Anya, you have to go to the hospital,” Buffy said solemnly. “Xander’s been hurt.”

The words were no more out of Buffy’s mouth before Anya disappeared into a portal that opened up at her throne, leaving the ancient stone chair charred and smelly. With a nod of her head, Buffy opened a portal and went back to Liz’s house. She’d done her best for the night at least.

It was time to cuddle up with her mate and try to forget the disaster that had happened tonight. It was giving her tummy aches.
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tbc...