W&D Banner

Complicated Hearts

by daneorange
Rating: R

Disclaimer: Joss Whedon owns everything. Just borrowing, so I can get that continuation I’d been praying for since forever… =)
Author's Notes: This is my first attempt to write fanfiction for Buffy:The Vampire Slayer, and it’s [AU] Buffy/Faith slash. Well, to be honest, I had to read up to get this, understand the chosen two – you know, episode guides… what with getting hooked on Buffy only in Season 5. ::late bloomers::
Timeline: Well, not really anywhere in particular. And yeah, POVs shift. (Yay!)

x Faith x

‘It just gets a little complicated sometimes.’

I’ve heard you say that for countless times, and I’m hearing it again. Oh yes, complicated. Everything between us, always goddamn complicated.

‘It is?’ I ask, voice tired. I am tired. Tired of waiting. Then of hiding. Then of staying hidden.

‘Yes. It always is, isn’t it?’ you ask back, and I nod.

Yes, yes, it always is. And I thought you were just plain blind.

‘It doesn’t have to be… if you would just tell me, dammit…’ my voice trails off. *Tell. Me.* I repeat in my head.

We used to talk, you and I. About everything. And then that night, we got drunk and…

And I don’t even want to think about it. I don’t even *remember*.

‘It’s nothing, how many times have I told you not to worry about it…’ you dismiss me. Just like that. And I… I finally burst.

‘Yes, you’ve told me that. COUNTLESS TIMES. That I don’t even know now WHAT THE FUCK we’re talking about anymore…’

You look away. I bite my lip, half-wishing now that I could take back what I’ve just said. Half. The other half somehow thought… you deserve it.

I deserve it. I deserve to know…

‘You were sober that night, weren’t you?’ I finally lash out. Completely out of topic. You stare at me with those wide eyes.

Fuck etiquette. Fuck manners, and good conduct, and morals, social conventions. Fuck them. I want answers. Now.

I see you flinch. That hurt, didn’t it? The realization made me want to laugh. Finally. Somebody else getting hurt in this relationship. Somebody else, other than me.

‘I’m sorry,’ you just say. And you knew me, or so you say. I was never trusting by nature. And you apologize without even looking at me?

You had to know better…

‘You were sober…’ I repeat. ‘Sober, for crying out loud! You did want it, didn’t you? Fuck, you had… you just had to get me drunk!’

You’re still staring blankly into the fuzzy TV screen. Who’s craving distraction now? You’ve always told me, TV is my main distraction.

You’re such a bitch, B. Not that I’m not but… let me just say it.

‘You’re such a bitch, B. Sometimes. Do you know that?’ I say out loud.

And I thought only men could be beasts.

‘I was drunk, too…’ you begin.

‘But not nearly half as drunk as I was…’ I interrupt quickly.

I turn my head to look at you, still staring at the TV. I get up and throw a foot into it. It shatters upon impact.

‘Not nearly HALF as drunk as ME! Answer me, B. Answer, for Christ’s sake!’

And you just sigh in response.

Why can’t I just hate you?

‘Why? What happened that night? You can sure tell me, B, I was drunk, you were not…’ I continue.

You had no other choice but to stare back at me.

I look back and think, Jesus Christ, what the hell was I thinking…

Falling in love with you.

You, Ms. Summers. Straight as a board, morals arranged alphabetically. The other slayer. The one I fell in love with.

‘I was also drunk, Faith. How many times do I have to say that…’ you snap back.

Okay, just great. Make this harder, fine. ‘Then what happened, B? How can you explain WHERE I found myself the next morning?’ I finally ask.

You shake your head. ‘I…’ and the next word dies on your lips.

Your lips. I let my stare linger a bit longer…

‘You what?’ I spit, getting my senses back. ‘You HAD me in your BED the night before. After the drinking session…’ I say, matter-of-factly. ‘What was I doing there?’

‘It was just one night, Faith…’ you reply, a peculiar smile spreading on your face. Something I wasn’t at all familiar with. ‘Surely it doesn’t disturb you.’

Oh how I wish, B. How. I. Most desperately wish.

‘No,’ I lie. ‘It doesn’t disturb me at all…’ And I put on my best façade.

‘Then why do you keep PUSHING?’ and suddenly, you’re flaring up, too.

‘I am NOT pushing,’ I say. ‘I just think I deserve to know why I woke up in YOUR bed that morning…’

*And you call this not pushing? Get out of here, Faith…* I scold myself.

‘It was a mistake, Faith. JUST a mistake. Jesus, you sound so homophobic…’

And there you go again. Do you ever notice anything?

‘I am NOT homophobic…’ I bite back. Damn these vocal chords, not cooperating… breaking at inconceivable moments.

‘Faith?’ you ask, voice tentative.

‘I’m fine.’

‘Look…’ you get off the couch and finally join me on the floor, in front of my newly-smashed TV set. ‘I’m. SORRY. Okay?’

I look up. ‘Sorry exactly about what?’

Yes. I have to know. You hurt me all the time, and I just don’t show bruises. And you’re just…

You’re just fucking insensitive sometimes.

No, not sometimes. All the fucking time.

‘Everything…’ you say.

‘Tell me about that night, B…’ I start again, more calmly this time. I hate it when I sound like I’m begging.

‘I already told you. It was a mistake. And I’m sorry.’

The word hits me like a slap across my face. Mistake. I wince involuntarily.

‘Faith…’ you say my name again.

I get up. Just to get the hell away from you, I guess.


I head for the door without even looking back. ‘You can keep the door unlocked if you decide to leave before I get back,’ I just say casually. ‘I have nothing to lose.’

*Yes. Nothing.* I bitterly reconfirm to myself, as I swing the door to a close behind me.

I look straight ahead, shake my head a bit. Then I let my feet take me places.


x B x

And I just sit here, on the floor, in front of your newly-smashed TV, as I stare at you walk out on me. And I am thinking along the lines of… of how dare you walk out on me like this…

I didn’t start this. I didn’t…

No, I am perfectly straight, Faith. The fact that I actually used to hit on vamps doesn’t make me gay. The fact that I also hit on humans doesn’t make me bi, either. I’ve been trying to get that damn point across ever since… ever since you started drawing cute little hearts with stakes through them on windows…

There. You made me remember again, and I just had to wince.

But where are you going? The answer sends a mixture of nerve impulses up my spine.

The graveyard.


x Faith x

You know, B, this is better without you.

I turn around and throw another kick, adding a couple of fists quickly after, before driving the stake into him. He, as expected, disintegrates before my eyes.

‘Nothing like gore and vamps on a night like this…’ I mutter beneath my breath.

Suddenly, I feel somebody grab me from behind, by my shoulders, and I fall back and hit the ground.

‘What do you think are you doing?’ I look up. Oh. You.

‘Bitch,’ I hiss in reply.

‘Going here alone, what the fuck were you thinking…’ you continue. Me still pinned on the ground.

‘Get. The. FUCKING HELL. Off me,’ I tell you.

You don’t let go, shifting your position even on top of me, pinning me harder against the ground. ‘You listen to me, Faith. I am trying to keep you away from potential harm…’

‘Oh shit, I’m a full-grown… erm, PERSON, for christ’s sake…’ I move my shoulders in an effort to free myself. Futile.

Oh you shouldn’t be doing this, B… this is tantamount to.. to teasing. Or something.

You get off, finally, and picking me up by the collar of my shirt. ‘Come here, we’re going home…’ you say, sounding like a mother, as you pull me out of the graveyard…

All the way into your home.


x B x

You had to know better than go patrolling on your own. God, if I came a little later…

*Then what, Buffy?* I ask myself. *Then what? She’s right… she can handle herself…*

*The only time she needed you… was when she was DRUNK…*

‘Let go, dammit,’ I hear you say, and I promptly oblige. I pull out my key and shove it in rather violently into the key hole of the front door. The door rattles a bit upon impact, and at the corner of my eye, I see you flinch.

‘Why?’ I ask you.

You shake your head nervously. ‘Gee, you always this violent with…’ and you pause, hesitating.

‘Doors?’ I ask, completing your question. ‘Sometimes…’

‘Mostly after slayage?’ you ask again.

I find myself nodding. ‘Yeah… well not really all the time, every after slayage, just…’ but I catch myself in mid-sentence, and I stop. What the fuck are we talking about!? Doors and keyholes…

I feel my jaw drop slightly at the thought, my eyes shifting quickly from yours to the door. ‘Go in,’ I tell you instead, giving you a little push.


x Faith x

‘Okay, okay… no pushing,’ I just say, feeling you nudge me into your household. I look around, and then over my shoulder. I catch your eye as you close the door behind you.

‘What?’ you ask, inquiring about my stare, most probably.

‘Why, I can’t look at you anymore?’ I bite back, defensively.

You grow silent as you divert your eyes. Haha, I win the point this time. You walk past me, and I just follow you silently with my eyes.

‘What did you take me here for, anyway?’ I ask, realizing five seconds after that I was probably a *little* tactless.

And you just look at me, uncomfortably at first, then the whole look transforms into a scowl.

‘Sorry,’ I just mumble, slumping on your couch. ‘I didn’t mean…’

And you wave your hand, just like that. Dismissing me. ‘No, we don’t talk about that right now…’

There you go again. And all the issues, they just seem to pile up, because whenever I want to talk things over, you just dismiss me, and just… kick the whole thing under the bed…

‘When do we talk about it…’ I find myself asking.

You wave your hand again. ‘Just not now, Faith. Not now, we have other pressing problems…’

*Other pressing problems.* Bah! There’s always another pressing problem whenever we… whenever it comes to us.

‘Other PRESSING problems, B?’ I nearly yell. ‘But what about us, B? Us?’ I bite my lip and bury my face into my hands.

‘There is no us…’ you just say. And I hear your footsteps fade into the hallway. I just listen, squeezing my eyes tighter.

*No. Us.* Echoing, ringing, slapping me incessantly, driving me to the edge, and over it.

And I plummet into the darkness, helplessly.


x B x

There is no us, Faith. The only thing we have ever been… Slayers. Just Slayers.

But somewhere at the back of my head, it echoes. *The Chosen Two.*

You and me. *Chosen.*

I shake my head at the thought, whisking away the emotions, the feelings…

*Feelings,* I repeat to myself. *No.*

I open the bathroom, stare into the mirror.

*The only time she needed you was when she was drunk.* The thought echoed in my head again. And I see myself wince on the mirror.

‘You ok?’

The door behind me opens, and you come in. I shift my eyes back down to the sink, hands fumbling for the faucet. Water. Relief.

I throw a handful of water on my face, hoping silently for everything to be just… just washed away.


x Faith x

I close the door slowly behind me, catching your eye on the mirror, your face dripping wet. I unconsciously bite my lip. Hard.

‘I’m sorry… I didn’t mean what I… what I said…’

‘Faith,’ you cut me off. ‘We WORK together… that’s how it’s supposed to be, and…’ you pause, hesitating.

‘And what?’

‘And…’ you search your brain for the words. And I hang on like crazy. ‘And I just didn’t want you going out there, sticking stakes into vamps… without me.’

My slightly open lips transform into a smirk. ‘Without you,’ I repeat. ‘Cool.’

You turn around, and say impatiently, ‘You don’t get it do you? We have tons of problems already, a whole town full of goddamn monsters trying to get to us, and they are OUR responsibility, Faith – OURS… that’s a handful, if you’d ask me, and that explains why…’ and your voice trails off.

And it is just so you to flare up just like that, bursting into a monologue of some sort. Just like that. So you, B. But you haven’t finished your sentence yet…

‘Why?’ I ask, urging you to continue.

You grab me by the back of my collar in response, and drag me into the shower stall, turning the shower on, as well.

‘Faith, can’t you see? We don’t have time for US. No. Time…’ You emphasize. The water hits the back of my neck, somewhat hard, and I let a few tears slide.

They go unnoticed under the shower.

‘… We have to deal with this Slaying thing EVERY FUCKING DAY… and my life is complicated as if already is… without YOU.’

I wince. You say the c-word again. COMPLICATED. Without ME.

Damn. You. Buffy.

You’re not the only one getting these kinds of thoughts here.

I gather my strength and snatch you by your collar myself, dragging you under the shower with me.


x B x

I feel the water behind my neck, and something tells me, I shouldn’t have said the things I just had.

‘Why B, you think, it’s better with you?’

And you clutch my collar tighter, closer to yourself.

And I don’t find myself resisting. Water running over and between us…

‘Faith…’ I could just mumble your name in response.

‘God DAMN it, B, get your fucking priorities aligned, will you?’ you yell. I flinch. ‘The Slayer thing is NOT everything…’

My eyes grow wide in confusion. Did I just hear that right? ‘It is…’ I insist, but my voice is weak, unconvincing.

‘We…’ and you clutch me even tighter, closer. ‘We are the Chosen Two…’

‘Faith, if this is about that night…’

And I am taken by surprise as I feel you loosen your grip, your hand sliding down my arms. And I temporarily forget where we are – in the shower stall, and that the shower’s still on…

And I am gripped again, not really with guilt, but with shame.

I took advantage. I didn’t mean to…

But maybe I was just too desperate to feel… NEEDED. Needed by you.

‘It extends far back, farther back…’ I hear you whisper. ‘But we chose to ignore everything… we put it behind us… things… without even… even RESOLVING anything.’

I bite my lip as I catch myself staring on yours. ‘That’s not… that’s not true…’

‘We just… just run away…’ you continue, running a hand into your damp hair. And I catch myself staring into your eyes. ‘That seems most convenient anyway… running away. Denial. Isn’t it?’

My eyes fall from yours, to your lips, and then finally down to the wet tiles on the shower floor.

‘What do you want, Faith?’ I finally gather the guts to ask. ‘What do you want to hear? What exactly am I supposed to say…’

‘You know, personally… I just want to hear the whole truth.’

‘About that night?’ I ask.

‘Oh we can start there…’


x Faith x

I stare at you as you stare blankly down on the wet tiled shower stall floor. Avoiding my eyes.

‘I was drunk that night,’ you begin.

‘I was too,’ I quickly interrupt. ‘Terribly. Much, much terribly…’

‘And… and then you got too drunk so…’

‘So you took me home,’ I find the urge to continue your sentences too irresistible.

And then you look up, irritation written all over you. ‘If you know damn well what I’m about to say, then why the fuck do I still have to go through this?!’ you ask, exasperated.

‘Hey wait up,’ I throw my hands up in surrender. ‘Sorry,’ I blurt out rather sarcastically.

Your hand reaches over for the knob, turning off the shower. ‘Oh I see. You don’t really give a damn about the truth, do you? You just… you just want to complicate things and…’

There you go again, your mind too narrow to accept anything else but your beliefs. I grab you by your shoulders and pin you against the wall. ‘Tell. Me. Just start telling me about what exactly happened that night,’ I just say.

‘But you know, don’t you?’ you ask back.

‘All I know is that I was terribly drunk, and I woke up with that hang over stark naked, wrapped in nothing but sheets, in YOUR bed, for the good love of God!’ I yell. ‘Now I want to know what happened IN BETWEEN…’ and I pin you a little harder.

Your face still drips wet from the encounter with the shower, you hair still damp, your lips…

I try to close my eyes as they stray there again. Always tempting…

‘Nothing happened in between…’ you hiss. ‘Nothing. You okay now? You fine with that? I did not do it with you, Faith.. I would never… NEVER have considered it. No…’

And I did not want to believe you… but you said it like… like you really, absolutely hated the concept. Once again, my hands lose power and I let you go.

‘Yes…’ I ever manage to reply. ‘I mean… yes, I’m fine with that. Sorry about the shoulder.’

Trying to be casual. Trying not to look at all hurt. *Did not do it with you… NEVER have considered it…* And you said those words so forcefully, I just could not take them as lies…


x B x

*Such liar…* I tell myself silently as you mumble your apology.

‘Wait,’ I grab your arm as you turn away.


‘So what do you really care if… if I slept with you that night…’

‘Oh an awful much,’ you reply. But you sound as if you don’t believe me.

‘It was just one night, Faith…’ I say again.

The scornful look on you face turns into a serious one. ‘You’re serious, aren’t you?’

‘It was just one night…’ I just repeat, and frankly, I do not know what else to say.

Say what? That I just wanted to know how it feels to be in your arms, without you ever finding out? That I just wanted to know just how it feels to be needed by you?

Because you were utterly, frantically, helpless Faith. No physical coordination what so ever. And you weren’t mentally coherent, even.

You kept telling me you loved me.

And I wanted so badly… to disbelieve you. For Christ’s sake, things are not supposed to be that way… that would be so wrong…

But then again, maybe we’ve done this world too much good now, and I was actually hoping they could spare us EVEN just this MISTAKE…

No, I can’t tell you that. I could not give in. Even if I wanted to…

‘And it was a mistake…’ I continue. ‘Surely it doesn’t bother you, FOR HEAVEN’S SAKE, you were so drunk, you probably weren’t even *there* with me, know what I’m saying?’

I look up and meet your eyes. So cold. ‘Yeah you’re right. I wasn’t there with you. I just woke up there, but I wasn’t there the night before…’

And I find myself nodding. ‘Yes…’ I just mumble.

Not there with me. But I felt your arms around me. I felt you writhe beneath me. I fell asleep in your embrace. And it was your hair my fingers absently wandered into.

But you were not there with me.

Even as you called my name out, loud and clear. But you were out of your mind. You were not there with me.

‘But I would’ve wanted to,’ I hear you say.

My head snaps back up. I had unconsciously stared at the floor again. ‘What?’

‘I would’ve wanted to be there. With you. But you didn’t let me… You. Didn’t. Let me…’

My eyes grow wide as the realizations start to seep in, rather slow. Rather painful…

So THAT was what all these… had been about all along.


x Faith x

I hope it just about starts to hit you finally, what I’d been ranting about all along.

I WANTED TO BE THERE. I wanted so much to feel finally – You. The previous relationships have all been about sex… but it really freaks me out, when it comes to you, how I just want to…

To just hold you. Really close. And not in some shower stall while we’re fighting over the things we chose to run away from… we chose to forget.

But somewhere… safe, I guess? Where I could forget protecting you and you can forget protecting me? Where we can forget about protecting the world…

You say we work together…

‘I didn’t want to,’ you break in. ‘I didn’t want you to be there…’

And there again, I am shocked at how your words just seem to slap me, hit me really hard, as if they were your actual hands, actual palms, grazing the side of my face. ‘Liar,’ I suddenly spit. And I even surprise myself.

‘So what?’ you snap back. ‘You don’t give a damn.’

‘I do,’ I insist. ‘I goddamn do.’

You shake your head. ‘No, you don’t. You just want to complicate things, you just want to have some fun… and you don’t really care if we slept together or not, because… because it doesn’t matter to you, not at all, just one of those supposedly normal, gay things that you have every now and then right?’ And you stare back at me with that fire in your eyes, so violent it turns your blue eyes into purple, saying those words like you…

Like you really meant them.

And it scares me everytime you’re like that. I try my hardest to mask my tears underneath ice.

‘Right, Faith?’ you ask again. ‘Surely, it doesn’t bother you. Sleeping with me. Or, okay – waking up wrapped in a sheet, stark naked underneath, in my bed. I might even be a feat, an accomplishment, a challenge you’ve planned to overcome… everything’s like that with you, anyway, Faith. EVERY. THING…’

And I say nothing in response, as I silently pray for my stare to stay icy on the surface. And without tears. I will not cry before you, B, I would never spare you the privilege…

‘It’s just normal for you… isn’t it?’ you insist.

God, and you still don’t get it. How dense are you exactly? If it weren’t you, it would’ve been. But it was YOU, and that’s the last thing I want for it to be. NORMAL.

‘This conversation ends here,’ I just find myself saying, turning back around.

But then, I feel your hand on my arm. And something tells me, there’s something more to look forward to after all.


x B x

‘If you want to talk, talk now,’ I insist, pulling you by your arm, throwing you against the wall yourself this time.

We just go around in circles, you and I. That’s probably what glues us together. We predict each other, and then mirror each other. Mirrors. Reflections. Complements. We could be everything…

We USED TO BE everything.

But you say nothing in reply, just an icy stare I could not break through.

‘Come on, you’d wanted this talk. So talk. You can’t stop now,’ I say again.

‘And what do you want me to say? You want me to admit that I just wanted to COMPLICATE things by asking you to at least REMEMBER what happened after we got drunk that night…’

‘Well, that’s so YOU, Faith…’ I interrupt, sarcasm in my voice. Sarcasm, and bitterness, and frustration…

‘You want me to admit that I’m just going this for fun?’ you continue. ‘You think this is fun? You think I’m having fun because I’m complicating my life by putting you in it?’

I look at you and I see you… in pain? Was it ever possible… for me to cause you pain?

But you were the stronger one…

I wish I could say something. But it just seems impossible.

‘No, B. This is not fun. YOU are NOT fun. You are… you are PAIN, B. Such a bitch, PAIN…’

And you – you called me PAIN. In spite of myself, I find myself crying.

‘Shit,’ I mumble under my breath, panicking to wipe my stray tears. How inconsiderate of my hormones to breakdown at a time like this…

‘Oh did that hurt?’ you ask, tone sarcastic. ‘I’m telling you, that is NOTHING compared to what you put me through…’

‘OKAY FINE!’ I yell back. And the tears just won’t stop… ‘What do you want to hear to get this over and done with, huh? An apology? I’ve said I’M SORRY a million times now, Faith… I’M SORRY I got you drunk, I’M SORRY I took care of you because you were this INVALID that night, I’M SORRY I slept with you, I’M SORRY, I made a mistake. I’m SORRY, I’m SORRY…’

‘GOD. DAMN. IT, B! It’s NOT that simple…’ you interrupt me.

‘And do you think I do not know it? It’s ALWAYS, ALWAYS COMPLICATED… You want things that way…’

And I’m crying so damn hard I could not stop. And you, you just stare at me. Saying nothing.


x Faith x

Your apologies echo in my head. SORRY for getting me drunk, taking me to bed and sleeping with me…

But that is not the point… for a while, I thought you’ve already figured that one out, but no… you never looked at things that way.

‘Just because… just because I chose to be like this, it doesn’t mean that my definition of fun is complicated…’

‘You could’ve preferred to be conventional.’

Conventional. Ordinary. Just like everybody else. Oh sure. For one, being a Slayer alone makes me out of the ordinary already. And then, you happened.

You think it would be easy? Easier now that you’re here?

‘I do not want to be conventional,’ I just say.

‘Sure you don’t,’ you reply. ‘And that’s just the point, you want to be COMPLICATED…’

You just don’t get it, do you? It’s not about being complicated, not even about being gay…

It’s about you. me. Us.

Me wanting so badly to have you in my arms and be sober at the same time…

‘So maybe it does get a little complicated at times…’ I begin.

You interrupt, ‘No, Faith – it’s complicated all the fucking time…’

And there are still tears in your eyes, and somewhere inside me – where I do not want to admit – I feel a little of your pain…

‘B, listen to me!’ I say, my voice turning into a yell. ‘I wanted to be there with you…’ I run a nervous hand through my hair.

There is not other way to go through this, but to just tell you…

‘And you just don’t get it…’ I continue. ‘So what if it’s complicated? So what if I’m in love with you—’

‘Do not SAY it, Faith…’ you warn.

‘No, B!’ I insist. ‘I drop the hints and you miss them, that hurts…’ I pause to catch my breath.

I could not believe I’m actually saying these…

‘But it hurts more though… that you violate me like that…’ my voice trails off and I see the expression on your face soften.

‘I’m… I’m sorry, I never meant to…’

‘But you did!’ I shout back, despite your apologetic tone. ‘You DID, and you shut me out, you gained control of me, and of my body…’

‘I don’t know why the fuck you’re doing this…’ you snap, as if begging for me to stop. ‘For Christ’s sake, I said it was a mistake, you’re gay, and it’s just one night…’

Yes. The one night I wanted to be special. And you didn’t let me in. I would’ve given you everything, I know we could’ve been more… but you took that night away from me.

‘It was the one night that would’ve mattered…’ I reply, bitterness in my voice. ‘You took it away from me.’


x B x

Then it hits me again. The reason why you’re flaring up in the first place. I tried to deny it the first time, but there you go again, saying it right to my face.

You wanted to be with me on that night. And you were drunk as hell, that’s why you weren’t.

And you blame me for taking care of you. And, you know, I just… to confess, I just got carried away. That’s why it got *that* far…

‘It was the one night I felt needed…’ I catch myself saying. ‘Needed by you.’

‘Bull shit!’ you quickly snap back. I wince. ‘You never knew *need*…’

‘You taught me *need*, Faith. I NEEDED YOU. And I needed you to… to need me back…’

‘You selfish bitch…’

Your words, so full of edges, scratching my face in all possible manners, all possible depths, all possible lengths…

‘I don’t care,’ I hiss. ‘Do you think you’re any less selfish, falling in love with me? We have the world at the edge of our stakes and you…’

I see you flinch, and again, the urge to take back what I just said overwhelms me.

‘You’re implying it’s my fault I’m gay, and that I’m compromising the Slayer thing for my sexuality? Is that it?’ you ask, and this time, all your efforts to hide your pain fail you.

‘That’s…’ I panic, and fumble for the words. Again. ‘That’s not it…’

‘Then WHAT is…’

I bite my lip. ‘Can’t you see, Faith? It all falls apart. We CANNOT be TOGETHER! That night was a mistake, whether SOBER or NOT!’

I nearly choke on the last word as I find myself being driven to the tiled wall again, your hand gripping my wrists, firmly pinning them against the cold tiles above my head.


x Faith x

Needed me. To need YOU. You never got the whole point figured out, I sometimes think it’s such a shame for a Slayer like you.


‘Fuck EVERYTHING, B…’ I hiss, and I find the urge to kiss you tempting again, as I hover my face dangerously close over yours. ‘You know we SHOULD be together… we are CHOSEN…’

‘Not in THAT context…’ you hiss back, your eyes flickering between my eyes and my lips.

See, I don’t get you. You want this, too… at a certain level, I know you do… but you’re just fucking scared.

And I’m not? Like hell I am. I am, too. And no number of vampires can probably ever come close to producing this fear you grip me with. Fear of rejection. Fear of pain. Fear of losing the one thing that matters…

‘But you WANT this, too…’ I finally manage to say. ‘You. WANT. This…’

‘But no matter what I do, or how much I desperately want it, I can’t have it…’ you reply, and I stare at you with wide eyes. You just said…

Can’t have it? Me? But you always had me, right on the first slay, on the first stake I saw you drive through some beast’s heart, on the first… you had me on the first EVERYTHING…

I loosen my grip on your wrists and wait for you to turn away.


x B x

It’s now or never.

I lean in to kiss you, rather forcefully. And your grip on my wrists grow urgent once again.

‘Come on, Faith,’ I say after breaking the kiss myself, abruptly, painfully. ‘You’re sober now, so get on with it. You wanted this… I give it to you now…’

A confused look crosses your face. ‘And after all that, you still don’t get it…’ you say, shaking your head.

‘What don’t I get?!’ I ask. ‘This is it. You wanted to hold me, touch me, have me, fine! Sober, right? Here I am, go ahead, TAKE ME! This is how I get your forgiveness, this is how…’ and I bite my lip.

I deserve this, Faith. It’s all give and take. Violate me the same way…

But it will never be the same. For one, I am sober too…

‘You don’t understand…’ you say again.

Yes, for a fact I really don’t, Faith. I do not understand why I want this. I don’t understand how I can be straight and WANT YOU…

Make me understand.

I force my hand down from your grip and hold your hand, tightly intertwining my fingers into yours.

‘Make me understand,’ I whisper, staring right into your confused eyes. I grip your hand tighter. ‘Do it.’


x Faith x

And it feels like I’ve just been run over.

‘Do it,’ you say again, and the urgency in your voice surfaces more clearly now. You grip my hand above you tighter, my other hand beside you, pressed flat on the cold tiled wall.

My face still hovers dangerously close above yours, lips barely touching anywhere. And the whole set-up is driving me crazy. My eyes run everywhere, all over your face, lingering a bit to meet yours, intently staring. Asking, begging, questioning… *needing*. Needing desperately something. And it was something new. You never needed anything…

Until now.

*Need me,* I desperately beg, but my lips long for something else, and I cannot seem to bring them to blurt out those two words. My eyes linger longer in silence.

*Do it.* Your words in my head, just echoes, bouncing off the walls of my mind. Driving me insane. What were you trying to say? What did you want me to do?

And, despite my confusion, I give in to what my body has been screaming for me to do all along.

I kiss you. I finally gather the strength, the will to kiss you, and in some vain hope, I wanted it to be the answer to your questions…

Harder. And I squeeze my eyes shut tighter as I go deeper into you… and there is so much I want to explain, and I do not know where to start…

I started with the kiss, so I think that’s good enough. I’ll think of the rest when I get around to them.

The End