The Good Girl 2
by Elaine Martin
Rating: R

Disclaimer: Nope. Still not mine, too damn expensive.
Author's Notes: To all who requested, here's the sequel. I generally hate writing sequels as I know I'll fuck them up, and they'll never live up to expectations. This is no exception.
- Thanks, as always, to everyone who Fb'd me, esp SWAY SLAYER. Have you ever read that girls FB? Dear God, they're fics in themselves! (Speaking of Sway Slayers fics, READ, READ, READ!! They're amazing. You'll thank me, buy me many, MANY gifts, and devote innumerable websites to the lovely Irish Elaine who introduced you to such top notch ficage....it could happen...)
- And the lovely Faithful Chickie, whose fics and FB get me through the bleak hours in which I attempt to study. The latter will never happen, but at least I'm happy :)
- I had a mental list of people I wanted to say 'lo to, but, I'm a rubberhead and, as such, it functions in a sieve like manner... Also, Friends is on in 15... Rachel find out tonight!!! *Elaine giggles in crazed fashion. Mother looks on with worry.*

This is just fucking GREAT. Doesn't get much better than this... butt ass and stakeless in the middle of a graveyard at midnight, all orchestrated by Buffy Goddamn Summers.

I lay there for a while after she left. Expected her to come back. Fuckin' PRAYED that she'd come back. The fact that she'd whipped my clothes came second to the extreme state of arousal I was in... I was eventually forced to realise that B had done a runner, so I got myself off quickly, before assesing the fucked-upness of the situation.

B played me. Fuckin played ME! I knew that 'more innocent than thou' crap was an act, but DAMN, I fell for it. Shit, I Got off on it... Loved it when she blushed and played dumb after I assaulted her with sexual innuendos. Loved how she squirmed when I let a hand linger on her arse, or shied away from the more physical of our training sessions.

I don't know what's worse; the fact that B played me for an arsehole, or the fact that it was all an illusion...

What B doesn't know is that she fucked over the wrong person...

*****

"Night Mom." Big hug, peck on the cheek, acceptance of hot chocolate with extra marshmallows, tester sip followed by positive feedback, "mmmm, yummy!"

Mom smiles and wishes me sweet dreams. Response: Big Buffy smile, little wave and second sip of cocoa.

Once upstairs, I strip myself of my sushi pyjamas and slide, naked, beneath the smooth velvet of my sheets. I rummage behind my headboard, finally retrieving the desired object. It's pretty and pink, with my name enblazoned in silver across the cover. The key is taped to the underside of my desk, and I slip it into the lock. It opens on today's date. It alone knows the true Buffy.

*****

Have you ever tried to get ANYWHERE while naked, be it from the bathroom to your bedroom with only a window to avoid, or 2 miles across a demon infested town in the dead of night?

In order to get home, I had to pass the Bronze. No choice in the matter. The council apparently chose that week to work on the sewers in the area, so the youth of Sunnydale are in for a streaking, Faith style.

Generally, I don't have a problem with showing my body. I have a good body...actually, I have a fuckin' GREAT body... but I'd rather not be arrested for indecent exposure. Definitely not tonight. Not when I have so much work to do.

I manage to get to the Bronze unseen. The place must be letting out, coz there are gangs of kids hanging around outside. I take a deep breath, count to ten and fucking RUN. I'm sprinting like there's no tomorrow, the laces of my untied boots slapping against my bare legs. I barely register the dozens of stunned expressions, or the catcalls... I spot Willow, Xander and Cordelia, mouths agape, and I offer a wave as I dart by.

*****

Nice long entry tonight. I like to be as explicit as possible. I chew on my pen, searching for the precise words to describe Faith's body. I laugh as I briefly wonder whether she's still in the cemetary. Poor Faithy. As stupid as the rest of them.

*****

B laughs, and returns to her diary. She scribbles away for a few minutes, before sliding the book behind her wardrobe and hiding the key under her desk. She stretches, and her sheet drops, revealing small, pert breasts... and fuck me if she doesn't start fondling them. Her right hand disappears beneath the sheets, and her mouth curls into a delicious O.

FUCK! Never expected such a show, but I should know better by now. I watch her masturbate, and I swear to fuck that it takes all the willpower I have ever possesed or am ever likely to posess, not to mirror her actions. She shudders as she comes, and lies back on the pillow, spent. Her breathing remains erratic for several minutes, and she lazily leans over to switch off the lamp.

I clamber out of the tree, careful not to step on any loose twigs when I jump to the ground. After the bronze, I ran the remaining three blocks back to the motel, the last stretch of my streak witnessed by a black cat, a fat trucker clad in a woman's dress, and an old man staring from an upstairs window, whose eyes nearly popped out of his head as I fled by. I'm guessing the glass one actually did.

Once in the motel room, I threw on some clothes, and headed to B's. Her curtains were only partially closed, so I positioned myself in a tree, adjacent to her bedroom, and watched as she confessed all to her cutesy little pink diary.

Now I'm all hot and bothered again. I wonder what B was thinking about as she got herself off... Damn that little bitch. Just wait til she see's what I've got in store for her.

*****

The bell rings, and I hand my plagirised assignment to Mr Finch, offering him a patented Buffy grin (tm.) Good old Josh Stiretto of NYU was well up on the French revoulution.

Willow talks incessently about Oz, as we make our way towards the exit. I smile and nod on cue, recalling his little dick, and I stifle the urge to giggle.

We're joined by Xander, who gives me a once over. I smile in greeting, and pretend not to notice his sideways glances. The poor little fucker has it bad. Not a chance, baby.

Fuck!... Faith is standing outside, hands on hips, dragging from a cigarette. She swaggers towards us, eyes locked with mine. I make my excuses to Willow and Xander, and walk over to meet her.

"Heard you were running around town naked last night, tut tut Faithy."

Faith takes a final pull from her smoke, and flicks it across the lawn. It arcs, and lands on Harmony's lap. The latter leaps from the ground, screaming obscenities. Faith offers her middle finger by way of apology, never allowing her gaze to break from mine.

Her silence is unnerving, as is her stare, so I begin to walk. She follows me stride for stride.

"Do you want something Faith?" I turn to face her, and she grins widely.

"Just wanted to return something, B." She unzips her leather jacket, and removes a brown paper bag, the contents of which are sealed. "I called by your house this morning, but both you and Mrs S were gone already. I didn't think you'd mind if I let myself in to get this."

She shoves the package under her arm, and lights another cigarette. "I didn't think I'd remember everything, so I took the liberty of making copies. Let's see, I think I have some of it down. March 16th, Willow won't shut the fuck up about Xander, who, despite being a little horn ball who's NEVER going to get any, wouldn't touch off the geek. April 15th, fucked Devon backstage at the Bronze. Knew he was going to tell everyone, so I gave him a little pre-warning. I wonder if teeth marks fade from balls? July 2nd, Gave Oz a hand job in the Bronze. He lasted all of 30 seconds, and stained my favourite top. Plus, he has the world's smallest dick. I'm telling you, the Guinness Book of world records would KILL to get a picture of that thing..."

Faith squeezes her eyes shut as though in concentration. "Nope, that's it. Left school so early that my memory retentions gone to shit. Good thing about the copies, eh?"

Oh Fuck.

She flings the bag at me, and I tear it open. It's there, pink as ever, bearing my name in silver.

"What are you going to do?" Damn, I'm stuttering like a fool. Fuck, fuck, FUCK!

"It all depends B." Faith runs a hand down the length of my arm, resting it against my waist. "On the one hand, I think that Willow and Xander and everyone else deserve to know exactly what you think of them..."

"You wouldn't..." I already know the answer, but I'm clutching at straws.

"That's just the thing B. You KNOW I would. See, unlike you, I let people know that I'm a slutty, selfish little bitch."

I sigh. I'm well and truly fucked. "What do you want?"

Faith wraps her arm further around my waist and pulls me towards her. We are standing breast to breast, her lips lightly touching my cheek.

"You left me in quite a predicament last night, B."

I saw nothing, aware of the stares we're receiving.

"First, you got me horny as hell, and then you fucked off...WITH my clothes. I'm thinking you owe me."

Her hand has moved from my waist, down the back of my skirt. She squeezes my bare arse and moans. By now, quite a crowd has gathered. I can see Willow and Xander amongst them. Someone whoops, and somebody else shouts 'Show us your tits girls!!!' I'm powerless to do anything.

"Give us a kiss, B."

Fuck! I weigh up my options. Kiss her, to an audience of the entire student body, or, refuse, and get ousted by her, to the entire student body.

So I kiss her.

I can feel her lips form into a grin as her tongue slides into my mouth. Around us, there are raucous cheers. She tightens her grasp on my arse, and pulls me closer. Her lips leave mine, and she whispers in my ear, "you're mine now, B. I win."

Fuck that. Buffy Summers ALWAYS wins.

...continued in The Good Girl 3...