Dean picked her empty glass and rose from the table, taking a few steps towards the bar. Suddenly changing his mind, he turned back and leaned down to her. “You wanna know what else? I remember meeting her, I remember leaving the bar and getting back to her motel…but after that? Nothing. Nadda. Zilch. So I guess that reputation of hers isn’t as truthful as she’d like it to be. He leaned down further and kissed her hair. “I’ll get more mixer in this one, okay?”
He wandered over to the bar and ordered more drinks. For the first time in his life, he was grateful for having been so drunk, he’d actually no recollection of a night. As he’d said to Buffy, it hadn’t really mattered but now everything had changed. Now it was hugely important. He’d wanted Faith that night but now he was wishing he had chosen a different bar…or picked up the little blond who had been eyeing him up the whole night. Faith had been drunk too, though admittedly, not as drunk as him and she was such a bitch at times. Looking back over at Buffy, he smiled. Though there was obviously no love lost between the Slayers, Buffy hadn’t bitched on and on the way Faith had. Which, in his eyes, put her in a different class.
He took their drinks back and slid into the seat opposite her, reaching across the table to take both her hands. “It meant nothing…and it means even less than that now.”