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Buffy stared at the pan on the stove, her face contorted in frustration as thick black smoke billowed toward the ceiling. She quickly turned off the burner, grabbed a tea towel and waved it furiously, trying to clear the smoke before the fire alarm went off.
"Ugh, seriously?" she muttered, staring at what should have been a perfectly cooked chicken breast. Instead, it was a charred, unrecognizable lump.
She glanced at the clock. Faith would be here any minute, and the kitchen was a disaster. The counter was littered with flour, vegetable peelings, and a half-empty carton of cream that she'd spilled earlier in her over-ambitious attempt to make some kind of fancy sauce.
Buffy groaned and rubbed her forehead. "Why did I think this was a good idea?"
The plan had seemed simple enough: cook a romantic dinner for their third date, set the mood with candles and music, and then, when the moment felt right, ask Faith to be her girlfriend. Officially. They'd been circling each other for weeks now, and while Faith seemed content to let things unfold naturally, Buffy was tired of wondering. She wanted clarity, certainty.
And now, thanks to her complete lack of cooking skills, she had none of that.
The sound of the front door opening made her freeze. "B? You’ home?”
Faith's voice carried lightly through the apartment and Buffy's heart leapt. She barely had time to shove the burnt chicken into the trash and try to hide the mess before Faith appeared in the doorway, her eyebrows raised as she took in the scene.
"Whoa..." Faith said, smirking as her eyes swept over the kitchen. "What happened here? Did you have a slayer fight I didn't know about?"
Buffy sighed and leaned back against the counter. "If by 'battle' you mean 'me against the kitchen,' then yes. I lost. Badly."
Faith chuckled and entered the room. She carried a bouquet of wildflowers, bright, colorful, and slightly mismatched, like Faith herself. She held it out to Buffy with a shy grin. "You said you liked them, so I bought them for you."
Buffy blinked, taken completely by surprise. She took the flowers, her chest tightening. "Faith, they're beautiful."
Faith shrugged, looking uncharacteristically self-conscious. "I thought they might cheer you up, now. Since, you know..." She gestured to the disaster area that was Buffy's kitchen.
Buffy laughed in spite of herself and placed the flowers on the counter. "Thanks. I needed that."
Faith leaned against the door frame, her arms crossed as she watched Buffy. "So... what exactly did you want to make?"
"Dinner," Buffy said, gesturing vaguely at the mess around her. "I was going to surprise you. But apparently I'm better at killing demons than roasting chicken.”
Faith snorted. "Yeah, I could have told you that."
Buffy shot her a look, but she couldn't help smiling. "Okay, Miss Culinary Expert, what would you do?"
Faith pushed off the doorframe, her grin widening. "How about we cook something together? I'm way better at this than you are, and honestly..." She glanced around the kitchen. "It can't get much worse."
Buffy rolled her eyes, but nodded. "Fine. You win. What are we making?"
Faith went to the refrigerator and pulled out ingredients with the ease of someone who actually knew what she was doing. "Let's keep it simple. Pasta, maybe? Can't screw that up."
"Hey," Buffy said mockingly, "I'll have you know I can boil water just fine."
Faith chuckled and tossed her a bag of pasta. "Good. You're in charge."
They worked together in the kitchen, the atmosphere light and playful. Buffy found herself relaxing as Faith took the lead, showing her how to chop vegetables and season the sauce without setting anything on fire. It was strangely intimate, standing side by side at the counter, their hands occasionally brushing as they passed ingredients back and forth.
By the time the food was ready, Buffy was laughing so hard at one of Faith's stories that she almost dropped the plates. Faith caught her arm to steady her, and her laughter faded when their eyes met.
For a moment, everything else fell away.
"Come kiss me..." Faith said softly, her voice deep and teasing, but with a hint of vulnerability that made Buffy's heart skip a beat.
Buffy didn't hesitate. She leaned in, her hands sliding up Faith's arms as their lips met. The kiss was slow and sweet, a silent promise that neither of them was ready to put into words yet.
When they pulled apart, Buffy rested her forehead against Faith's, a small smile playing on her lips. "You know, this is turning out a lot better than my original plan."
"Yeah?" Faith grinned. "What was the plan, anyway?"
Buffy hesitated, her stomach turning. This was the moment. She could feel it.
"Well," she began, stepping back slightly and fiddling with the edge of her apron, "I wanted to ask you something. Something... important."
Faith raised an eyebrow, her expression curious but cautious. "Yes? What's that?"
Buffy took a deep breath, forcing herself to meet Faith's gaze. "I wanted to ask if you'd... if you'd be my girlfriend. Officially, I mean. Not just... whatever this is."
Faith blinked, obviously taken aback. For a moment, Buffy worried that she'd misread everything, that she'd gone too far too fast. But then Faith's face softened and a small, almost shy smile spread across her lips.
"Of course. I mean, it's you," Faith said softly, her voice hoarse with emotion. "It's always been you."
Buffy's breath caught, her heart swelling as Faith stepped closer, her hands sliding around Buffy's waist.
"I didn't think I'd ever have this," Faith admitted, her voice low. "But since you're asking... yes. I'm in. All the way."
Buffy felt tears tugging at the corners of her eyes, but she didn't care. She wrapped her arms around Faith's neck and held her close. "I'm so in love with you..." she whispered.
Faith pulled away just enough to look at her, a rare, unguarded smile lighting up her face. "You're not so bad yourself, B."
Buffy laughed, the sound filled with relief and joy. She leaned in and kissed Faith again, and for the first time in a long time, she felt like everything was exactly as it should be.
They ended up eating their pasta at the kitchen table, the flowers Faith had brought sitting in a vase between them. It wasn't the fancy, romantic dinner Buffy had planned, but as they laughed and talked and shared stolen kisses, she realized it didn't matter.
This was enough.
Faith twirled her fork in her pasta and looked at Buffy with a grin. "So does that mean I get to call you my girl?"
Buffy rolled her eyes, but smiled. "Yes, Faith. I think that's exactly what it means.”