Your Freudian Slip Is Showing
by Angelina

"Uh huh...oh God...yeah baby right there...I'm so close...so close...take me there..."

Jesus, I sound like a bad porno actress. Not that I watch that kind of thing. But hey, that's what being in the throes of passion will do to a person. Here I go again.

"Ooooh...I'm...I'm gonna...oh fu...Faaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiith!"

I scream my release and collapse back onto the pillows, panting and sated. A movement from under the blanket tells me that my lover, the bringer of my pleasure, is about to emerge from the depths. I prop myself up on my elbows and find myself looking into those big chocolatey eyes. Eyes that carry more than a hint of a question. Performance anxiety? God, you'd think my inarticulate screams of ecstasy would be enough. But I reach down anyway and tousle locks of slightly damp chestnut hair.

"That was amazing."

I offer my best 'reassuring' smile. It doesn't really have the desired effect.

"You did it again, Cor."

Now I'm confused.

"Did what?"

"You called me Faith."

Shit. I thought I had a handle on that. I mean, I don't even know where it comes from. It's not like I even remotely think about Faith, ever. I haven't noticed her impossibly deep brown eyes and those full, pouty lips or the way her cheeks dimple when she gives that lazy smile. And that curvaceous, voluptuous figure? Not even a blip on my radar. And yet her name seems to pop out of my mouth at the most inopportune times. At this moment in time I think denial is called for.

"I did not call you 'Faith', I distinctly remember calling you 'Xander'."

"Well, I distinctly remember hearing 'Faith'. It's not the kinda thing a guy doesn't notice ya know?"

OK, so denying it didn't work. Maybe haughty silence is the way to go. I clamp my lips together and look away, like I'm so hurt by his insinuation that I can't even speak. He sighs and flops onto his back beside me. Still with the silent treatment. Although it's making me a bit nervous. And I don't get nervous. But pillow talk isn't terribly forthcoming when you've just shouted the wrong name during an orgasm. Especially the name of such a skanky, slutty, sexy...what was I saying? Oh, Xander's talking, better listen.

"...don't mind the name thing so much, it's just..."

He trails off but he's piqued my interest enough for me to break my haughty silence routine.

"Just what?"

"Well...could you not talk about my firm young breasts anymore? That's kinda off putting."

Oh my God, that's new. I must've been really far gone this time. OK Cordy, you need serious help babe. This is just too, too disturbing. I think Xander is waiting for me to say something. He's been really sweet about this whole thing. I mean, most guys wouldn't stand for their girlfriends screaming another person's name during sex. Then again, he couldn't pay to get the visuals I'm serving up for him. Eew. As if me picturing myself having sex with Faith isn't enough, now he's doing it. Not that I do, picture it, or anything. Anyway, I better say something in response to his request.

"Deal."

He nods. Phew. Silence. He's speaking again.

"So...you really think they're perky?"