Title: Breaking Traditions

Author: Myinnerme

Summary: Sometimes breaking a few traditions is all it takes to have a merry Christmas - (B/F)

Rating: PG

Pairing: B/F

Disclaimer: I own nothing.

A/N: Hope it's not too late – Happy Holidays All. And, thanks to Electra for beta'ing

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Faith was pissed. No, she was absolutely livid. Yet, despite the blood boiling through her veins, she sat with a small grin plastered on her face as she continued to listen to the events being relayed by an overexcited, obviously star-struck Buffy.

A beat later, as if on cue, she threw her head back in laughter as she joined along in the jubilant chortling coming from their friends who were sharing another holiday dinner at their home. Faith happily suffered through her traditional ribbing with a wide smile and even went so far as to throw a playful jab or two of her own at the very flushed and slightly smitten blonde.

To all who watched, Faith was the epitome of poise and giddy calmness. After all, she had nothing to worry about; she knew where she stood in Buffy's life. In fact, everybody should have known by now where she stood in Buffy's life and if they didn't, they'd know soon enough. Faith was Buffy's heart and, vice versa – they'd even been seen once sporting t-shirts that said exactly that.

But, despite being assured of her lot in life and of her partner's devotion, Faith couldn't shake the disgusting uneasiness she felt when she thought of this whole fiasco. The whole situation just seemed to stink and went way beyond the borders of inappropriate… if not, even immoral. She didn't care that Buffy thought she was being ridiculous and overly paranoid by reading more into the innocent friendly gestures than what was actually intended. Nope. Faith didn't give a shit about her girlfriend's subjective opinion on the subject, had the shoe been on the other foot Buffy would've sung a different tune.

Faith knew how she felt inside. She knew what her gut was telling her. And her belly was screaming: the whole enchilada of incidents was just sick, and wrong, and— Faith paused at a lost for words. There was nothing she could think to describe the sickeningly wrongness of the acts. She just knew they were was sick and wrong.

The first time she'd heard what had transpired the morning after as she'd lain snug in her bed asleep while Buffy was downstairs doing her last minute fussing, she'd been skeptical. C'mon. Who'd believe that shit? Faith had laughed her eyes out; completely convinced Buffy was yanking her chain until the peeved blonde gave her one of her own signature eyebrow raises. Faith's stomach had instantly lurched, her jaw dropped, her face constricted in bemusement, and she moped around in a sour mood for the rest of the day.

Needless to say, a good time was not had by all that year.

The second time, which was the following year, a cranky Faith had been sent out into the late arctic night to pick up some extra lights from the 24 hour Mart on the corner. Upon returning and hearing what she had missed, the brunette lost her cool. It wasn't a pretty sight. Jealous, angry, still shivering from freezing her tush off Faith is never pretty; no matter how attractive the outside package appeared. It had taken a whole lot of loving for the remainder of the night and lingering kisses throughout the entire next day to quill her ruffled feathers.

Now, five years and three other similar incidents later, Faith had to endure another recap of a 'coincidental' encounter that happened last night that also seemed to elude her.

'Coincidental my ass,' Faith snorted in disbelief to herself as she leaned over and placed a soft chaste "I love and trust you" kiss to Buffy's temples. She knew when some chump was making with the sly moves. And, married or not, that rotund son of a bitch was trying to moving in on her turf. Rewarded with a dazzling smile and a loving squeeze to her jeaned thigh that was filled with the promise of you are so getting laid tonight for being such a sweetheart about all this, Faith leaned back with a happy smirk.

Yeah, it was all crystal clear to her now. She'd finally learned to play the game. She was a veteran now. Before, all those years ago, she had been too naïve. Too tardy. Too angry. Too unprepared. Too sleepy. Well no fucking more. She was dealing with an expert here so she had to step it up a notch. From here on in this was an all out war. A battle royale she had no intentions of losing. Experience and careful reflection over every detail throughout the years had taught her all it took was a few minor adjustments. A few breaks in tradition and voila, problem solved.

Still smirking a year later when she heard a tiny snore escape the swollen lips of the worn out slayer, Faith mentally pattered herself on the back for a job well done and pulled the covers over their glistening bodies. Yup things were already looking up. Already going to plan, she mused through a yawn.

She'd made sure this time to double up – sometimes even triple up – on their purchases this year. The downstairs closet still had festive trinkets spilling out its wazoo. Even the fridge was overstocked to capacity. There would be no midnight run this time around.

Then, on the big day in question, Faith'd stuck to Buffy's side like glue. Buffy turned to the left, Faith turned to the left. Buffy used the bathroom; Faith rolled off a considerate wad of toilet tissue and handed it to the skeptical blonde as she reiterated the finer points about couples being less self-conscious about their body functions lasting longer in relationships she'd googled and memorized. Not once did she leave her girlfriend alone.

And lastly, once they'd made it safely to bed, she'd ensured the blonde was far too exhausted from a marathon of orgasms to get up and do any of her last minute fussiness that somehow aided and abided the yearly occurrences. Chuckling softly, Faith knew even if the whole house caught on fire now, Buffy would go up in a blaze of glory as she snored her way through to the pearly gates.

Feeling her own eyes starting to droop heavily, Faith quickly reached over into her nightstand, retrieved the brand new wristwatch she'd kept hidden for the last couple of months and fastened the black leather band around her wrist. Settling back down and adjusting into her favorite spot, Buffy's nape, Faith was fast asleep in less than a snap.

An hour or so later, her eyes shot open when she felt the vibrating buzz of the time piece. Leering gleefully, she pressed her lips fondly to warm skin and thanked the PtB she'd met a wizard earlier that year who specialized in mythical alarm systems. Sure he'd charged an arm and a leg – not literally of course – but it was worth every penny.

Pulling back the covers and creeping off the bed as quietly as possible not to wake the still comatose slayer, a very naked Faith made a mad dash down the stairs. And, just as the bane of her existence spun around from his slide down the chimney with a welcoming smile already in place he was greeted with a punch.

"Keep ya fuckin lips off my girl," was the last thing ole St. Nick heard before his world went black and he crumpled to the floor.

Whistling 'I Saw Mommy Kissing Santa Claus,' with a new pep in her step and a swagger of her hips as she made her way back upstairs, Faith fleetingly wondered if she'd make the naughty or nice list next Christmas.

The End