Light A Candle
by Jade
Rating: NC-17
Disclaimer: Screw you, Joss Whedon! Why did she have to leave? Huh? Huh?
Why?! *falls into histerical sobs*
Author's Notes: This is pretty much self-explanitory..I don't know why I
bother anymore...Songs in this one are "Sway" by Bic Runga, which is Faith's song for Buffy,
in chapter 13. Songs in chapter ten are "Every Me Every You" by Placebo,
from the Cruel Intentions soundrack, and "You Look So Fine" by Garbage.
"Volcano Girls" by the wicked Veruca Salt (greatest band ever) is in chapter
12, and Buffy's song for Faith, called "Surrendering" by Alanis
Morrisette (greatest soloist ever), off of her Under Rug Swept cd, is in
chapter 13. My song in this one (are you tired of me yet?) is called
'Deliciously Malicious' and it's in chapter 9.
Yadayadayada..we all end up fucked in the end, lovies. Faith's lighter is
for Illiana, beastly beastie that she is. Love ya, Illi.
Dedication: To all the amazing people who sent me the best feedback.
*grins* Especially Sway and Elaine, because they inspired me to finish this
damn thing if it's the last thing I do. Thanks to all, and many, many
kisses!
"suede/you always felt like suede/there are days i feel your twin/peekaboo/
hiding underneath your/skin....call me 'evil' little sister/i guess i'd do
the/same/little sister/ you'll forvive me one day...."
Suede, Tori Amos
Faith felt like a beaten dog, slinking back into the city of angels and devils. She could almost imagine her tail, tucked between her legs, as she nibbled on a burger in the back of a bus. Her body felt cramped and trampled, little and weak. She didn't feel like a Slayer; just a girl, like any other girl, with her heart broken.
The food stuck in her throat, as she viciously chewed and swallowed, trying to erase B's grip on her mind. *It'll be okay,* she told herself, *I haven't needed anyone for a long time, and I never needed Buffy.*
The name hurt inside her head. She bit down hard.
Buffy woke up to sunlight streaming in like butter from the curtains, bisecting the room in slivers of light. She stretched, and felt cold numbness as she realized the other half of the bed was empty. Sadness made her roll over and out of bed, mumbling an obscenity as she hit the floor. She should be used to waking up alone by now, after all, she hadn't had another boyfriend after her brief-but torrid affair with Spike. Still, it felt like hell.
She washed her face in the bathroom, looking at herself in the mirror. Her eyes were bruised and pain-filled, like drenched moss. Her hair was unkempt, touseled from the fight. She touched the spot on her face where Faith had kissed her last, and her hands shook as she toweled her brow.
After a shower, filled with flashbacks of F-*her*, she tried to do a bit of training, shadow boxing herself in the light from the rising morning. Outside her window, couples walked arm in arm, kids played music too loud, and shopkeepers swept their storefronts, the brooms making a harsh sound against the light, airy atmosphere. Her heart felt like grated cheese, useless and cold from the freezer aisle, not worthy of consumption. She threw a punch, putting too much weight into it, a juvenille mistake, stumbling over herself.
The Slayer fell to the floor, her body crashing heavily down, and she cried in hateful sobs, unable to even *be* anymore. Buffy let out a keening wail, rocking back and forth on the plush carpet, not caring who heard her. Faith's name spilled from her lips, an unstopable cascade. She held herself and let tears comsume her, destroying her well-placed facade.
*I love her,* she thought, *I tried not to, but I love her...God, I love her. I need her, I need her so much...You are my blood. How can I escape you, when you are my blood?*
After what felt like hours, she pulled herself up, wincing at the pins and needles feeling that ran through her dozing limbs. She staggered over to the bags, where Faith had left them, and prepared to leave. Faith had left the car keys, her wallet, and all her clothes, which, knowing the way in which she left, was not surprising. Still, Buffy didn't like to think about Faith being without clothes, food, and money for a hotel. She had to find her, and she knew where to look.
Buffy descended the stairs, intending to ask Sal if she had seen where the raven-haired girl had gone. The redhead shook her head sadly from the counter desk, and seeing Buffy's stricken face, and tear-stung eyes, she came around and hugged Buffy to her fragile, birdlike body. The Slayer cried a little, in the warm embrace of the Wiccan, but she pulled herself together, reminding herself to be strong. Sal held her tightly, and whispered in Buffy's ear.
"She runs. She runs all the time. Because she's scared, and she doesn't trust anyone. She's like suede, velvet one way, rough the other. Tough life she's lived, and many's the bastard that'll try to take advantage of her willingness to be loved."
Buffy shuddered, remembering the Mayor.
"But she loves you, I saw that much. Goddess, she loves you. You're good for her, and she knows it, but she'll run anyway."
Buffy pulled away gently, wanting to stay wrapped in those arms forever. "I know. I've been chasing her a long time, waiting for her to stop running. But she never does."
Sal leaned forward and cupped Buffy's face in her warm hands. The Slayer was struck by the sudden realization that this was what Willow would be like, years from now.
"Honey, why don't you run with her?"
"..and i found out where my edge is/and it bleeds into where you resist/ and
my only way out is to go/so far in/ billowing out to somewhere..."
Spring Haze, Tori Amos
Faith stepped off the bus and back into L.A, her eyes scanning the seedy, vicious crowd. Her body was tensed, her shoulders tightened, girl-muscles rippling in readiness, readiness for someone to knock the chip from her. No one did, their eyes meeting her burning coal pupils and sliding away, looking for someone less angry to fight. Even the burly skinhead boys, with swastikas tatooed on their naked skulls, averted their smudged gaze when she stalked by, even though she yelled 'Fuck you, nazis!' at the top of her lungs.
This was her town, and she was well known in it.
Faith was spoiling for a fight, for the adrenaline that would keep her afloat in her own anger, so she brushed against the arm of a boy while she walked, smiling smokily at him, while his furious girlfriend watched. She licked her lips, and whispered sexily, steading herself for the chaos. Sure enough, the girl growled, and lept at her, expecting her to run, to cower before the might of her Hispanic Home-girl act. This girl was used to smaller, less dangerous chicks, chicks who would run, chicks who would flee. Faith would do neither.
Faith moved like a rippling panther-woman, and forced the other girl down easily, holding her throat in one hand. She let go when the girl began gasping for breath, fear written like a sonnet on her face, and sauntered off.
Her blood was pumping like heavy-metal music in her veins, and she was trying to ignore the little voice in the back of her head, the one that whispered 'Buffy' in a hissing tone. It was impossible. She slumped against an alley wall, leaned her head on rough brick, and stared numbly at the graphiti in front of her. Everything she saw became B's face, or B's smile, or B's eyes. Every word was bubbled from B's lips, and there was no escape from those tears, tracking down from those emerald eyes. She couldn't bear it, couldn't see a way out.
could you would you never go astray from this elegant murderer and his depravity parade run run til you fall the tempest is at your call run run until you break an illusion gold cages never hold for long...
The music came from the wall beneath her, thumping, loud, raucious. The kind of music that screamed sins and depravity to the night air. She needed that chaotic air to wrap about herself, to erase the sound of the girl, the Slayer, the Chosen One.
She slipped into the door to her right, marked with a spray-painted black knife plunging into a blue heart. The club was filled with bodies, not all human, and the sweaty, seething air comforted her in a strange, casually cruel way. She moved in the dark humidity, reminding herself that she belonged here, that she *was* evil, and Buffy could never help her. So she danced, and let the wickedness pervade her once more.
Buffy piloted the Lexus onto the freeway, heading for the airport at a breakneck speed. Logan International was less than twenty minutes away but she felt as if time was working against her. In her head, she saw Faith being raped, killed, starving to death, or dying of cold on the streets of a city that hardly knew the meaning of love. Speed was of the essence to her, she had to find Faith, before anything else.
*You are in my blood.*
The ticket was bought using her own credit card, into Cincinnati for a plane change, and then to L.A, window seat. She checked the bags, almost unwilling to relinquish them; they smelled like Faith (an exotic smell, like patchouli oil and Black Erotica incense), and she didn't want to lose them in the belly of a plane. Her desperation was tempered only by her sadness, which kept her calm enough to hand the bags over, and content herself with Faith's leather jacket, the one she used to wear in Sunnydale, which she had found squashed at the bottom of the second bag. The jacket was warm and soft from much use, and there were pockets filled with trinkets, souvenirs of Faith's life as a club hopper. A condom, wadded-up tissue streaked in mascara, two pieces of Bubbalicious gum, sunglasses, a Hershey's kiss which reminded Buffy of Faith's eyes, and a cigarette lighter, black, with an inscription Buffy couldn't make out.
Her hands, with their nails nibbled down to the quick, gripped the seatrests as the plane roared into the air, her world tilting sideways. She hated flying, and she nearly threw up her hastily eaten breakfast into the paper bag that didn't look big enough to hold her sickness. She rubbed the lighter anxiously, a nervous habit, and unintentionally scraped the dirt and grime from it, cleaning it so she could read the inscription. *To Faithful F-never stop fighting. Love-M*
She turned the lighter over and over in her hands, trying to imagine who 'M' was. It could be Mom, or even Mayor, but then again, he had seemed like the expensive gift type, and the lighter was cheap, although it produced a good flame. To her knowledge, Faith didn't smoke, but she *had* said she was a pyro. Buffy was fascinated by this facet of Faith's mysterious life. It consumed her so utterly, that she didn't even realize it when the plane began its descent into Cinncinati, where she would make her flight change.
The airport seemed crowded, with too many people and kids. She walked in long strides, nervy and impatient; her plane into L.A had been delayed, and she would have to wait an hour. She sat at a small cafe, drinking water and nibbling on a croissant, people-watching. She watched a couple pass her, two beautiful women with a little boy in tow, laughing and smiling, hand in hand. She smiled at them, shyly, wanting to live in their bright world. They grinned back at her, three faces grown alike from years of living together, sharing a soul, a heart. It almost hurt to look at them.
She went to the restrooms, splashed some tepid water on her face, and headed for the payphones. She could call Angel and tell him her flight was delayed, because she highly doubted Cordelia could forsee *that*. After dialing, she had a split second to wonder what the time was in Los Angeles, before a familiar sleepy voice picked up.
"H'lo?"
"Cordelia? Hi! It's Buffy."
"Buffy?"
"Yeah. Is Angel around, cause I reeeally need to tell him something...Hello?"
*Pause* "...Buffy?"
"Umm..yes, Cordy. Buu-fffy. Is Angel there?"
*Pause.* "Buffy, did anyone ever tell you that you are faarrr too cheerful in the mornings?"
Buffy heard a rustling, and then a 'Cordy! Gimme the phone!' and Angel's voice came on the line, staticky and panicked.
"Buffy? Buffy? Is everything all right? Did you find Faith?! Is she there?! Faith? Faith?!"
"Relax! Angel, calm down. It's just me."
She heard a breath that Angel wouldn't have needed to release come out in a sigh.
"Oh."
"Jesus, way to sound happy to hear from me."
"No, no, I just..I was just hoping, y'know?"
"That I'd found Faith?"
"Yeah." There was a pause, and then a crackling noise that could have been Angel walking downstairs, so as not to let the others hear. Buffy smiled thinly; she knew Angel too well. He spoke huskily, almost as if he'd been crying.
"I just want her to be safe. After all that's happened..."
"Yeah, me too." Buffy still hadn't told him about what had happened between her and Faith. Her story was that she was trying to be friends again, and Faith had run away.
"Buffy? Do you need anything?"
"Oh, yeah, sorry. Umm, my flight is gonna be delayed. Flight 435." She listened to the scratch of a pen on paper as Angel wrote it down. Something occured to her suddenly.
"Angel? Do you know why Faith was taken out of prison after a year? Her sentence was five." A long pause. "Angel?"
"She didn't tell you then." It wasn't a question.
"No..."
"Buffy, the Council tried to kill her."
"What?!"
"They took her out of prison and tortured her until she really believed that she deserved to die, that she was scum. Then they led her back to me, and sent assassins after us, trying to kill us both. They came in right as I was on the verge of making her understand....that she wasn't scum, that she deserved to be loved. She helped me fight the assassins off, then, about a month later, she bolted. Haven't seen her since."
"Why? Why would...how could they do that?"
"I still don't know. They hated her, and they hate you, Buffy. I don't know why. But you have to find her, and soon."
He hung up. It wasn't Angel's way to say goodbye. Buffy leaned against the booth, feeling numb. She remebered Faith's horrifying scar, and shuddered violently. The Council had many wrongs to answer for, and she would make sure they paid in full.
The boarding call sounded, and she made her way down the gate, to the plane, pausing to give the attendent her ticket. So no wonder Faith was so upset about Buffy helping her, she thought she couldn't be helped. Buffy tried to imagine Faith's life, and the horrors and pain in it, but she couldn't. As much as she loved Faith, she couldn't imagine what it was like to *be* Faith. Her life, and the bad things she'd seen, the monsters she'd killed, just didn't compare to Faith's monsters. Monsters in her own *family*, creatures whose evil defied naming. Faith must feel like the losest being on Earth, just to be related to that...that *bastard* she called a father.
But Faith, Faith wasn't a monster any more than Angel was, or any more evil than Xander.
*You are my blood,* she thought as the plane took off, screaming into the tangerine-colored sky. *And I'll take you anyway I can, history or no.*
At that moment, Faith was allowing some guy she didn't know to ply her with drugs and alchohol. Numb with drink, she lay back on the cushions in the back of the club, and watched as he tied the yellow cord around her arm, making her veins push against the skin, as if trying to free themselves. She empathized with them. He smiled at her, showing teeth as yellow as the torniquet, and jabbed the needle in, sinking into Faith's soft, bruisable flesh, injecting something into her. Something that she hoped would fill up the emptiness inside, the pulsing *nothingness* that was so hard to ignore.
He was clambering over her now, unzipping her pants and roughly yanking them down, shoving her legs apart. She let him, cold from her own thoughts, and the nothingness in her heart, pumping through her bloodstream.
The void that was left from Buffy.
"B.." She whipered, staring at the shifting lights on the ceiling until it burned into her brain.
"B."
"you come on like a drug/i just can't get enough/i'm like an addict coming
at you/for a little more/and there's so much at stake/i can't afford to
wait/i never needed anybody like this before...."
Tempation Waits, Garbage
Angel met her at the gate with Cordelia, Wesley, and flowers. They talked to her kindly, filling her arms with drooping blossoms. Cordy had dyed her hair; she looked good, Buffy noted. Wesley look the same, worried, and a bit prattish, while Angel was, Angel. He still had the duster for christ's sake. She made a numb mental note to buy him a new coat. The old one was starting to get musty.
Buffy talked little, nodding or shaking her head in response to questions. They picked up her bags for her, and gently ushered her into a black SUV they had waiting at the curb. Fred, who was driving, greeted Buffy, talking animatedly and one-sidedly, for a while, before a sharp look from Angel shut her up. Buffy finally realized what was going on, they were treating her as if Faith was dead.
"I'm not an idiot," she said sharply, suddenly, "I know what you're doing, and she's *not* dead. I would know." Cordelia nodded her head sagely. "I tried to tell them that, but do they ever listen to me? Noooo..."
Angel shot Cordelia a look, and she glared at him. Wesley spoke up, adjusting his glasses. "Listen, Buffy, we just think it's better not to get your hopes up. After all, Faith is most likely-"
"Shut up!" Angel roared, and the car swerved violently. He glared at Wesley from the front seat, his eyes ablaze. "She is *not* dead! Faith is smarter than that!"
Wesley snorted derisively, his hands clutching his seatbelt. "You're calling a slutty, psychotic, *heroin*-addicted *murderer* smart? I think you've-gaah!"
Angel lunged at Wesley from the front seat with a snarl, but Buffy beat him to it. Her hand held the young Watcher by his throat to the back of the car, her eyes searing into him. His feet dangled inches off the ground, a testament to Slayer ability and Buffy temper.
Her fingers tightened slightly, putting pressure on his windpipe, and he heaved for breath. She spoke to him so calmly, so deadly soft, that the other passengers shivered upon hearing it.
"If you *ever* talk that way about Faith like that again, I will *personally* see to it that you die a slow, exceedingly painful death. Is that *perfectly* clear, Watcher?"
Everyone watched in horrified fascination as Wesley gurgled 'Crystal' and was dropped to the floor, gasping. Buffy stayed still, staring at them all as if to say, 'that goes for you, too'. Then she sat down, and proceeded to ignore them until they arrived at the hotel. The silent treatment continued from there, Buffy spoke only to say thank you to Angel after he showed her the guest room, and to ask where the bathroom was.
She sat on her bed in the pretty room, admiring the decor, and remembering suddenly that the sun was rising, and her chance to discuss Faith's abuse with Angel was shot.
She had just decided to go get some Chinese takeout for the humans, as a sort of apology, when Cordelia knocked on her door.
"Come in." She said absently, suddenly realizing that she'd been picking the bedspread in the same way as Faith. She set her hands in her lap. Cordelia entered, her new blonde hair in ripples behind her. She carried a tray of breakfast, a roll, some orange juice, and eggs fried 'Sunnydale' side up. After putting the tray on the nightstand, she sat next to Buffy on the bed, and grinned hugely at her.
Buffy looked at her quizzically. "What is it, Cordy?"
"You're in love with Faith."
Buffy was shocked. "How did..what..how do you know that?!"
She sputtered, amazed that she was *that* easy to read. Cordy smiled triumphantly, and Buffy was suddenly aware that she had given herself away.
"Buffy, you just held a Watcher against the wall of a car because he called her a slut. Even Fred knows, and she's a *complete* moron."
Buffy was aware of a wry smile on Cor's mouth as she said the last bit, and the seer's eyes drifted away slightly. *Fred and Cordy...who would've guessed. Well, Cordy was here this morning....*
She lay back on the bed, staring up at the ceiling.
"All right, all right. So my secret's out. Yeah, I love the ill-behaved little tart, even if she runs away and coins catch phrases no one can understand. I love her."
She lifted her head to regard Cordelia, smugly perched on the edge of the bed.
"Happy now, you self-involved cheerleader?"
"Yup. Eat your breakfast and take a nap. Later on tonight, we'll help you look for that gorgeous lover of yours."
She exited, just as Buffy exclaimed 'Gorgeous?!' and threw a pillow at her.
"Goodniiiight, Buffy."
Came the sweetly patronizing, muffled voice from outside the door.
"Cordelia, come back here! I swear to God...if you've been fantasing about *my* Faith..."
Cordy laughed all the way down the stairs.
CHAPTER ELEVEN: Looking For The Girl
"cause even her smile looks like/a frown/she's seen her share of devils/ in
this angel town..."
Lullaby, Shawn Mullen
Angel crept up to Buffy's room, at around seven thirty. The sun had died gloriously an hour before, waking him up. He'd gotten into the Draculistic habit of sleeping during daylight and working at night, opening him up for teasing remarks such as 'Angel vaaants to suuuck your bluuudd!' and the like. He smiled as he entered Buffy's room; the curtains were drawn, and Buffy was asleep in the bed. He was about to leave, when he heard a soft moan from The Slayer.
"Faith..."
He stopped in his tracks at the next one.
"I love you...Faith, noooo..come baack! Come back! No, Faith!"
Her voice was cracking, and she was writhing around in the sheets, tangling herself up. Tears made her sleeping face upset and red, and she was thrashing about, reaching out for a dark-haired dreamy-eyed girl in her sleep.
"Faith. Faith, please..I love you.."
Angel closed his eyes, wincing lightly in sympathy. He could see the love between the two Slayers as clearly as moonlight, he'd always known somewhere, that they would end up together, even when Faith was psychotic. God, he hoped they found Faith soon. He didn't like to think about the Council finding the dark-haired Slayer, or what he'd seen them do to her.
The vampire touched Buffy's shoulder lightly, and the Slayer came awake with a start, trained to be always alert. She looked at him with sleep-fogged eyes, and mumbled something like ''Nnngel? Whadderya doin' herrre?' He gave her his best fangless smile.
"You were having a nightmare. It was about Faith."
Buffy rolled over to check the clock by her bedside, and Angel looked away quickly. Her clothing consisted of a black pair of bikini panties, with 'Faith' emboidered on the front. And nothing else. Nothing. He got a flashback of their first and only time making love, and gulped quickly.
Buffy became aware of the fact that she was topless, save for Faith's panties, and tucked the wine colored sheet around her. She sat up, aimlessly messing with her hair, and gave him a half-smile, which faded quickly.
"Any news?"
She tried to keep out the pathetic hopefullness in her voice, but failed. Angel's undead heart wrenched.
"My sources haven't found any sign of a girl matching Faith's description. They say if she'd been attacked, there would be gossip about a Slayer in L.A among the vamps, and there isn't any. I'm sorry, Buff."
"S'okay. I'm going out to look for her, maybe I can find her, I dunno. I *have* to try, Angel."
"I know."
They were seated side by side on the bed, not facing each other. Angel turned to touch her arm, his fingers resting lightly on the hard muscle bunched there. Her emerald gaze met his, and there was a little flood balanced precariously in their foresty depths.
She gave a little cry, putting a hand to her mouth as if in shame, and then her whole body quivered with the force of her sobs. Angel, who knew all too well what she was crying about, tucked her head onto his shoulder and held her to him, akwardly. He shushed her in what he hoped was a consoling manner, but it did fuck all for her. She just kept crying her eyes out on his very damp shoulder.
"Buffy, Buffy, it's okay. We'll find her..shhhhh.."
"No! No, it's *not* okay, Angel, it's so fucking beyond not okay! I l-love her Angel, I fucking love her! And she *hates* me!"
"She does not hate you, Buffy! She's just afraid of you. No, no that didn't come out right." He said, after seeing her stricken face. "She's afraid of your *love*, because everyone whose ever loved her before has either used or left her. Think about it, the Mayor, probably her parents, and her Watcher. She's the emotional equivalent of trampled grass."
That brought a wince from Buffy. "She told me she thought I just wanted her for the sex."
If Angel could've blushed, he would have, intensely. All sorts of lovely images containing two naked Slayers, whipped cream, and handcuffs filled his head, and he slapped himself hard on the forehead. *Goddamnit! Promised myself I wouldn't do that anymore...but they're both just so gorgeous! No..Bad Angel, bad!* Buffy wrinkled her brow in confusion, seeing Angel's far-away look. If she had known the things he was picturing her and Faith doing, he would have been dust before he had time to react.
He shook himself. Buffy sniffed quietly, still allowing droplets to sprinkle her face. Angel took her hand and squeezed it, an unconsious gesture of his loyalty.
"I'll find her. *We'll* find her." He amended, seeing the Slayer's blazing eyes. "She loves you, and you two *will* have a happy ending, damnit."
Buffy laughed hesitantly, hiccuping sobs still erupting from her throat periodically.
"Angel, I wanna spend the rest of my life with her. I-I wanna have a family with her, and ki-kiss her every morning, and take walks, and have cats, an', an'-"
She paused to laugh throatily, clearing her eyes with the back of her hand.
"I want to marry her under my mom's lilac tree in our backyard, with everyone there, Giles reading our vows, and you wearing a tux. Jesus, Angel, I even imagined Dawn as a flower girl, and the cutest blue bridesmaid dresses for Anya, Tara and Cordelia. Hell, Willow was gonna be my maid of honor! I love her, Angel!"
They searched all that night, letting the smog-choked stars of L.A be their guides. Angel and Buffy walked past junkies on the Boulevard, looked in seedy motels, asked the prostitutes on the corners if they knew a chick called Faith who was turning tricks. (Buffy felt a twist in her gut at that thought.) No one had heard of her. Finally, they turned onto the district Angel called 'Bloodydale', a place where you didn't have to be a demon to be a monster.
Buffy saw things. Murders, rapes, innocents. And she couldn't help them, because the perpetrators were human. *Human*. She saw it all, and for only the second time in her life, she was helpless to stop it. Angel kept his head down, immune, but Buffy felt bile rise in her throat, and she stopped to vomit beside a passed-out drunk. Angel stood beside her, hands in his pockets, unsure of what to do. While her stomach heaved and her esophagus contracted, she began to think of what Faith would do in this kind of situation. Hold her hair back for her, pat her back, and whisper some joke in her ear to make her laugh in her misery. That's what Faith would do. She couldn't blame Angel; she just missed her kitten.
*You are my blood.*
They kept looking, night after night, until three starscapes had seen their weary, trenchcoated figures. They slept like dead things (well, Angel did, Buffy just slept) until the sun set, and then they walked the city of angels, blowing aimlessly along the streets like paper bags caught by the wind. Bloodydale they avoided, but Buffy was strangely drawn to it, and to its evils. She kept seeing that club, with its nondescript spray-painted blue heart, stabbed by a black knife, on the door, and the music that rocked the alleyways with its cacophony. For some undeniable reason, her body wanted to go in, to dance to that pulse, and *see* what it had to show her. She knew there was something there, she just didn't know what. Her senses, without Faith, were dulled and practically useless.
*You are my blood.*
On the fourth night, Buffy went alone to the club called Bluedeath. Angel took Cordelia and a complaining Wesley, and looked around Santa Monica. Faith wasn't likely to be found on those pristine white beaches, Buffy knew. But she went alone without protest.
She entered Bloodydale in a trance; the moon was full, the sky was unusually clear, and her feet led her on to the club without even thinking of it. At the door, she handed the bouncer a ten, and wandered in, surrounded by ground-shaking music, sweaty, crowding bodies, and almost total smoky darkness. She squinted until her eyes adjusted to the opaqueness, slashed with wounds of colored, flashing lights, attacking the dancefloor. Or what passed for a dancefloor; the whole club breathed with the choking opressence of bodies. The music was loud, visceral, and it clung to her, like the rest of the atmosphere. Cloying, clinging to her skin like a membrane of moist sensations.
like the naked leads the blind i know i'm selfish i'm unkind sucker love i always find someone to bruise and leave behind
Her eyes scanned the surprisingly small space, seeing drug deals, fucking, the odd vampire, nothing really... But who was that glittering, starlit girl, swaying drunkenly to the music in the center of the floor, with her arms twined above her head?
*You are my blood.*
Faith was dancing like a nymph, a faerie of the Old Powers, droplets of her perspiration flying off of her like her own ambrosia, as she danced in her round. Her outfit was typical; a cleavagey, low-cut halter top, and a leather skirt. Men and women floated around her in a mist, but she ignored them, lost in herself.
As Buffy stared in lovelorn shock, the music changed, a slow, heady, sensual beat that erased everyone else. It was just the two Slayers, whose eyes met across the room, hazy cocoa-powder meeting soft, deep-sea green.
You look so fine I want to break your heart and give you mine you're takin' me over it's so insane
*You are my blood. You are my soul.*
you've got me tethered and chained i hear your name and i'm fallin over
Buffy crossed the club, in a trance from those eyes, until she was dancing, her body flush with Faith's. Their eyes never leaving each other, she put her hands on her kitten's waist, and moved her hips with the other girls.
i'm not like all the other girls i can't take it like the other girls i won't share it like the other girls you used to know you look so fine
"I love you." Buffy whispered, kissing Faith's tear-struck cheeks. "I love you so much. Just as you are."
Faith threw back her head, her badass facade crumbling like a sandcastle left in the wake of a tide. She held her love closer, smelling Buffy's hair, and breathing in the safety that B provided.
"B.."
knocked down tied up fall down just to come up
They stayed in their own quiet space, swaying together, unaware of anything, or anyone other than each other. Buffy was crying, her tears making their familiar paths down her cheeks. Their hands drew together as if on a magnetic pull, and their fingers twined, their heads bent together, foreheads touching. Faith was a million things at once, sad, bitter, unwilling to *be* happy, and strangely elated all the same.
She was fighting back tears of joy, worrying her lower lip between her teeth. She didn't know how B had found her, and all of a sudden, she didn't care. All that mattered was the rythmn of their physical beings, and the soft, sweetly bruising mouth that slanted over hers in an affirmation of their rediscovery.
Eventually, Buffy took Faith's hand and led her out of the stifiling air of the club, giggling as Faith stumbled over her heels.
"Come on."
CHAPTER ELEVEN: A Strange Love
"these tears i've cried/i've cried/a thousand oceans/and if it seems/i'm
floating/in the darkness/well, i can't believe/that i would keep/keep you
from flying/and i would cry/a thousand more/if that's what it takes/to sail
you home..."
Thousand Oceans, Tori Amos
Faith allowed herself to be led out of the club, Buffy's fingers encircling her wrist. *What are you doing?!* Her mind berated her, *you don't need her, remember?*
But somehow she was reluctant to make Buffy release her wrist, and her lips ached from their violent, desperate kisses. The other Slayer was pulling her onward, stopping to shove her up against the self-same brick she'd leaned on, her first night here in the alley, and force their lips together. It was fusion, wet, molten heat, searing between them, and their hands roamed the other's body, seeking, hungry. Faith broke for air, gasping, and Buffy attacked her neck, sucking ferociously on the skin beside her collarbone, in a way that was sure to leave a mark. She moaned, aware of every nerve ending prickling as if on fire. Buffy tugged her away again, and hailed a cab, bodily pulling Faith into it.
The cab driver swerved twice. Once, when they started to kiss, and again, when Buffy's hands roamed up her skirt, and she moaned 'Fuck me, B'. He seemed only too happy to watch, but kept saying 'holy shit' under his breath again and again. Buffy handed him a twenty as they arrived at Angel's, and he roared away from the curb in a flurry of obscenities. Faith barely had time to register what was happening before the front door closed, and she was slammed against it.
"Wait, B, wait..." She murmured, trying to pull away and catch her breath. She wanted to apologize, for leaving, and for fucking up, like always. Now, she would get her chance. But Buffy was not to be distracted. She growled into Faith's skin, and tugged the halter top down further, baring the milky-white skin of a breast. She sucked hard on the curve, drawing a harsh cry from her lover. She felt Faith's hands on her hair, trying to push her away, but she would not be swayed. Five nights without her Faith was enough punishment; she wanted to make love, and she wanted it *now*. They could talk later.
She grabbed a hard-muscled thigh and hoisted it around her waist, doing the same to its twin. Faith's arms flew instictively to the older girl's neck, giving a surprised laugh, as she was draped around Buffy like an over-enthused snake. Buffy grinned lasciviously, as the leather skirt was consequently hiked up enough to see the dark patch of fabric that covered Faith's sex. One hand grasped Faith's delectable round butt (*For support,* she told herself, *just for support.*)and the other sneaked its way between Faith's thighs. She stroked the soft skin she found there, running the backs of her nails against tensed muscle.
Her partner, her love, her friend, her enemy and polar opposite, writhed on the door, her curls thrashing about her face. "Wh-who woulda thunk it? B's into the rough stuff."
Buffy swallowed Faith's laugh with a kiss, her toungue teasing the younger girl. She licked a drop of sweat from Faith's upper lip, and smiled lustily. "*B*'s just getting started, *F*."
Faith saw the undeniable lust making storm clouds in Buffy's emerald pupils. She saw it and was aroused by it, so much her body was shaking in desperation. But she felt something else, something bad and sick that had crawled into her and refused to leave. She needed help, she needed Buffy, but Buffy didn't want to cooperate. She slid off of her partner and stepped back, her eyes smokey. Buffy was confused, aroused and not thinking right. She stepped in for a kiss, and was shoved away. Her green eyes narrowed and she crossed her arms.
"What the fuck is it *this* time, Faith? You can't be with me because one moment of happiness will make your hair turn blonde?"
The dark-haired girl growled low in her throat, hurt. "Jesus, is that all you want from me? Sex?"
Buffy saw her error and immediately sought to correct it. "No, no. I'm sorry, kitten, let's just-"
"No!" Faith wrenched away from her, flinging a hand up in frustration. "Gods, no. I'm trying to *talk* to you, and all you wanna do is fuck! Why is it every time I admit I need you, you're either trying to kill me or fuck me?!"
Buffy's breath hitched, and she felt anger rise in her like flames to air. "Well, maybe that's because you're always too busy *shooting up* to admit you need anything other than another drink. You know, sometimes you act just like your father."
Faith stopped her erratic pacing and turned on her heel, slowly. Her eyes were filled with that same cold fury Buffy had seen in the bed and breakfast that night. "Don't you *ever* say that again, *ever*. I'll break your fucking arms off, you little-"
"You little what?" They were standing too close to each other, invading personal space and crowding like animals, trying to psyche the other out. It was frightening, instinctive and primal. "You wanna say something to me, *Faithy*?"
"Fuck you, B. I don't need you, I don't need anyone." She pushed out of their intimidation match and headed for the door, her movements jerky and uncouth.
Buffy grabbed her arm in a wrenching grip and pulled her back roughly, causing Faith to fall against her body. She gripped the younger girl's arms and forced their bodies closer together, hoping physical contact would shock them both back into a calmer state of mind. She knew that she couldn't allow Faith to leave again, she didn't think she could take it.
"Listen to me, you hard-headed little twit. I don't know what your fucking trip is, but you better tell me or I'll cause you a world of pain."
"You think you could take me?" But she was calmer, her breath less labored. She looked into Buffy's eyes and sighed, flicking an errant strand of dark hair from her face. "All right. I just...I don't want this...*us*..to be...to be a fuckfest. I...I don't want to keep leaving you in the morning, and I.. need you not to leave me. I want us to..be an us. You get me? Not just a random fuck when we're feeling fed up with our lives. I want us to help each other, and..and shit like that. I dunno, it's all so cliched...but could you help me? With this..problem of mine. No...no AA groups with the scoobies or any of that shit. Just you. I trust you."
They were at an impasse, waiting, each waiting to hear what the other would say. They both started to talk at the same moment, blushed, and Faith gestured to Buffy to go first. Buffy leaned in, wrapped her arms around Faith, and put her feet gently ontop of Faith's, mindful of her heels. They swayed together, like little kids in big boots and heels, their foreheads bent to each other, comforting. When Buffy spoke, it was in a whisper, as if not to break the silence.
"I trust you, too, Faith. I kinda love you, you moron." She kissed the side of Faith cheek, close to her eye, breath skating over Faith's skin like a baptism. "I don't..I don't have any experience with addiction. I never even knew what heroin looked like until recently, but...I'll give it a shot. We both will. If you can stay clean, then I can stop being paranoid and bitchy, alright?"
Faith laughed, and hugged her closer, which was impossible at this point. They were meshed so close together that their hair had melded into one shade of dark, curtaining their faces. Buffy continued in a slightly higher-pitched tone.
"As for the us being an us thing. I..I'd like that. I'd like that a lot. I mean, we're very good together, well, at least, you're good with me, since I've never..well y'know. But I'd be willing to learn, in fact, you could teach me right now if you wanna..."
"B. You're Willowing again."
"Willowing? Oh...I get it. Mmmm, you smell good. Um, Faith? Enough with the talking, can we have the sex now? Not that I don't love talking with you, cause I do. Under any other circumstances. However, we haven't done it in days, and I'm about to melt into a Buffy-puddle on the floor, so..."
Faith effectively shut her up with a mind-melting kiss. Buffy broke away after about a minute, gasping. She hoisted Faith's legs back around her waist, which was where she privately thought they should stay forever, and wiped a mass of dark hair out of their faces. She sighed, her eyes drinking in Faith's like a late 1980 Pernior.
"I love you. Really, really love you. And I'm about to show you just how much."
With that, she pulled Faith more closely to her, and carried the young Slayer across the room to the stairs, showing little effort. She didn't look down once, instead preferring to kiss her captive brutally, nibbling on that much-battered lower lip. Faith wondered vaguely how B could somehow innately sense where each step was before she took it, as their mouths dueled furiously, bantering without words. She heard the creak as they ascended the last of the stairs, and her mind drifted to where Cordy, Fred, Gunn, Angel, and Wesley might be. The exibitionist in her hoped they were watching. They were in for quite a show.
Buffy literally kicked open the door to the guest room, sending it back on its complaining hinges, and hooked her foot on its edge to slam it behind them. Faith shivered slightly, in the delicious knowledge that she was in a room, alone, with Buffy, and they were most likely about to get naked. The older Slayer carried Faith to the bed, and they stood at the edge of it, looking down. Faith searched Buffy's face for fear or apprehension, and found none. Only a deep, burning desire and love, so much that it destroyed her senses and left her ravaged. Overcome with her emotions, she hid her head in B's shoulder, but was brought up short by the hand on her chin, gently forcing her to look her lover in the eye. Buffy was serious, her face scanning Faith's. They regarded each other for some time, conveying without words the little things, the tiny emotions that ran rampant through them. Then, Buffy spoke.
"You are mine. Everything about you, your 'five by five', your badass ways..mine. And I am yours. I'll never let them hurt you again, or ever let anything come between us, to separate our rythmn. We are Slayers, partners, friends, and lovers. I love you, and you love me. It's as simple as that. Okay?"
Faith chuckled nervously. "Yeah, B. Simple, that's our middle name. Whatever."
"Shut it, you get the point."
"Yeah, B. I get it." They grinned at each other, nervous as two hormone-ridden teens on a first date. Buffy suddenly, but very gently, laid Faith down on the bed, coming around to the right side to stand over her. She kissed the brunette's forehead, crouching over her.
"Trust me, kitten?" It was a quiet question.
"Always, B."
Buffy was shaking inside, but tried not to show it too much. Faith appeared to be nervous too, her eyes had turned hazy and black with desire. They kissed, lightly, as if aware of bruising from their harsh lip-sucking before. It was soft, lightly flavored with the hard alchohol Faith had knocked back, and the glass of water Buffy had had earlier. Faith's mouth, Buffy thought absently, tasted like blackberries, cinnamon and alchohol, firey yet sweet. She ran her tougue over the ridges of the roof of her lover's mouth, feeling sure that she had found some sort of Slayer nirvana.
Eventually, leaving the younger Slayer gasping for breath, she drew away, and focused her attention on the halter top. "This, sexy as it is, needs to be gone."
She muttered, whipping it off in a matter of seconds. Faith laughed, langorous and smokey. Buffy silenced her with a glare, but the dark Slayer stuck out her tongue defiantly, giggling. Buffy grabbed a black throw pillow, and smacked her with it, eyebrows wiggling suggestively. Faith, never one to leave a challenge unanswered, retaliated with the other throw pillow, and soon, Sunnydale's finest were engaged in an out-and-out war. Feathers flew, alongside quick repartee, steady giggling, and whack-thump of pillows.
"Careful! *Whump* Gotcha."
"Bitch! *Whack*"
"Ooooh...that was on the ass, B, gonna take it furthur?"
"You wish... What the hell does that gesture mean?"
"Where've you been...under a rock?! Y'know...the fingers represent legs, and you stick out your toungue...never mind."
*Whack*
"Jesus, this leather is soo tight!"
"Yeah, and so is my-"
"Faith!"
*Thud*
"I was gonna say jacket!"
"Sure. And Melissa Rivers isn't a heinous hell spawn."
"I *knew* there was a reason why she wasn't dead!"
They rolled, and found themselves in new positions. Buffy straddled Faith's thighs, while the dark-haired Slayer's arms were pinned by a strong grip. Buffy leaned down to lick a lazy trail from Faith's collarbone to her breast. The younger girl gasped.
"You like?"
Buffy asked huskily, reaching for the button of Faith's skirt. Faith moaned and tossed her head on the pillow as the zipper was pulled down. Buffy tried to attept the same feat Faith had preformed on their second night together, but the sweaty leather refused to budge. She let out a frustrated cry, desperate to get her love naked.
A low, throaty laugh came from above her and Faith sat up on the bed. "Here." She whispered, sliding the skirt easily off her legs. Buffy shook her head admiringly.
"I'll never know how you do that."
"It's all in the wrist. You see,-"
Buffy silenced the younger girl by reaching into her black bra and cupping her breasts. "Honestly, I don't give a shit."
"Language, B, language." Faith was finding it hard to draw breath.
"Wanna spank me for it?"
"Maybe. Ohhhh...do that again."
"What's the magic word?"
Faith grabbed Buffy's head and swallowed her lover's smirk. She tangled her hands in the soft brown hair, and pulled Buffy down to her.
"No more games. Fuck me, B. Please?"
Buffy saw the lust, and the love, written more beautifully than Shakespeare, in those deep, drowning pools of blackish brown. She removed the French lace from Faith's breasts, her eyes never leaving the brunette's. Her eyes tore away to rake over the soft, heaving flesh, dusky nipples, and the light purpling on the side of the right one, her own work. She kissed that spot, tenderly, as if trying to atone for sins they both had committed. Her mouth slid over a tightened bud, setting up a harsh suction, guessing correctly that Faith liked it rough. The younger girl's moans and cries gave her some indication of how long Faith had been waiting for this. Buffy'd never been with a woman before, (unless you counted a drunken kiss with Willow, and she didn't) she was fascinated by the softness of her partner's skin, the taught muscles so like her own, and the scars marring the white perfection of Faith's body. She laid kisses on each breast, laving at the nipples with her tongue. Her fingers whispered down Faith's stomach, playing with the lacy edge of the expensive black panties.
"Ohhh..B."
She smiled into her lover's breast. Faith's hand found hers, sliding over her fingers, entwining them. The dark girl raised their hands to her mouth and kissed each of Buffy's fingers, looking into the other girl's eyes.
"Love you."
It was quiet, barely whispered, but it had come from Buffy like an anthem, a yell of triumph. Faith smiled, tears gathering in her coal-black eyes. "B..I-"
"No." Buffy stopped her with a little kiss. "Not yet, kitten, not yet."
She turned her attention south, moving down slowly, laying kisses on the tight belly. She flicked the barbel in Faith's navel idly with her tongue, admiring the daredevil courage that allowed Faith to get tattoos and piercings. She had already admired the little ring in the upper part of Faith's elfin right ear.
Finally, she came to the panties, and she breathed on the crotch, laughing quietly when Faith squirmed. The scrap of fabric dissapeared so fast that Faith was unsure of how it happened. Buffy spread her wider, pushing the younger girl's thighs apart with a determination that made Faith wetter. She was already soaking, drowning in her own juices from the mere thought of that head between her legs, but now she was a flood, a puddle of lust. That same head leaned forward suddenly, and a wet tongue descended on Faith's clit, causing a shock of pleasure to run through the younger girl. She yelped, and her hands slid down to tangle in Buffy's hair, not so much holding her there as just feeling her. Buffy continued regardless, lapping at her love's outer folds, darting her tongue into the wet passage occasionally. Faith was breathing hard, her legs shaking with pure lust. Buffy pulled away, pausing to look up at her kitten. Faith was flushed, her hair spread out on the pillow, her eyes completely black with wanton desire. She'd never looked more gorgeous, in Buffy's opinion.
"Are you okay?" She asked, surprised at the huskiness in her voice.
"Aside from feeling like I'm gonna spontaneous combust, yeah, I'm five by five."
Buffy giggled, and ducked her head back between Faith's thighs, feeling like her heart would swell and burst.
Buffy had never tasted a woman before, and she was amazed at the sweet salt of Faith's arousal. She wanted to make her lover scream, to feel those exquisite thighs tighten around her neck, feel that beautiful body arch off the bed. She was so deeply in love with this girl, this woman, and she wanted, *needed* to hear her name spill from those pouty lips. Buffy inserted a finger into the tight slit, hearing Faith's impassioned cries. She felt no resistance, and slipped in another digit, thrusting lightly. Faith was desperate for more contact, hips bucking like a wild horse, and Buffy began to thrust in earnest, licking at Faith's clit like a cat with a bowl of cream. Her lover was thrusting her hips against Buffy's mouth and hands, little whimpers issuing from that pale throat. Buffy worked the dark-haired girl harder, fucking her with fingers and tongue. Faith rose up to sit on the edge of the bed, Buffy kneeling between her legs, her hands entangled in Buffy's hair, panting in pleasure. She threw her head back and moaned, a throaty sound that took up residence in Buffy's crotch.
That was how Angel walked in on them, opening the door silently to see if Buffy was asleep. Neither Slayer noticed his shocked form in the doorway, too caught up in each other. He stared hard, unable to believe what he was seeing. Faith was totally nude, a sight he'd heard Xander singing the praises of, but never seen. Buffy was fully clothed, her head bent, hair spilling over Faith's thighs like chestnut wings. Faith chose that moment to let out a particularly enthusiastic cry.
"Mmmmm....B, oh God...fuck me!"
He shut the door quickly, practically running downstairs. Not only did he need to call Xander and reaffirm that yes, those *were* real, he also needed a really, really, *really* cold shower, or else that moment of happiness was going to come sooner than expected.
Buffy felt the tension begin in her lover's body, signaling the start of an orgasm. She stopped her tongue on Faith's clit, continuing the motion of her fingers. She held Faith in a suspended state of pleasure, kissing the soft place where muscled thigh met tight ass.
"B, please! Unnngod..B, ohhhh please!"
"Please what, kitten?" Buffy teased, speeding up her fingers.
"Ohhhh...please...please let me come, B...oh fuck!"
Buffy realized her teasing was cruel, and bent her head again. She attacked Faith's clit again, laving and licking, hard and fast. She kept eye contact as Faith began to spiral into climax, her eyes blazing into her lover's. Faith arched her back, her hips pumping madly, and she came, hard into Buffy's eager mouth and hand.
"Bufffyyy! Ohh God, I love you, Buffy! I love you!"
She fell back, exhausted, vaguely aware that she had just said she loved Buffy. The woman she loved laid her head on Faith's stomach, kissing the skin. Her arms wrapped around Buffy and pulled her up for a kiss, tasting herself. They lay like that for some time, until Faith became aware that Buffy was still fully clothed, and unsatisfied. She set about to remedy that.
Slayer recovery is a wonderful, wonderful thing.
All throughout the night, as if unable to release each other, they made love. Again, and again, pleasuring and being pleasured. Neither wanted to see the sun rise, but when it did, they were happy, lying in each other's arms, watching the orange globe move higher through the curtains. Faith had never experienced this, this all-consuming passionate *rightness* that she felt in her bones, and skin, and belly. She never wanted to leave B's warm arms, or remove her leg from its draped position over Buffy's legs. Her breasts pressed against Buffy's; her heart beating in tandem with the older girl's. There was a mysterious clarity, lying there, a realization the likes of which Faith had never seen. Everything was so simple, with Buffy kissing her temples, and telling her she was beautiful. She *knew*, for some odd reason, she *knew*.
She loved Buffy.
This love was a strange, beautiful love, she knew, and she could never, would never, want to escape it. Ever. She snuggled closer to her love and fell asleep.
"When cradle and spool are past, and I a mere shade at last coagulate of stuff transparent like the wind I think that I may find A Faithful love, A Faithful love" The Fool by the Roadside, W.B Yeats
Cordelia rapped on the door cheerfully at four thirty in the afternoon, calling 'Good morning, Buffy!' before entering. Mistake.
"Cordelia?!"
Two very naked, half-asleep Slayers stared at her groggily from their positions in each other's arms. Cordelia whirled around, blushing madly, and heard the rustle of a sheet being pulled up.
"What do you want, C?" Faith's voice sounded as if she was smirking.
"Wipe that grin off your face," Cordy shot back, smiling a little, still turned around. "I know you too well."
"That you do, Queen C. What's the deal?"
"We brought you some food. You might want to restore some body energy."
She exited quickly, laughter and a thrown pillow following her. Buffy stretched, smiling. Faith copied her movements, they grinned at each other, and kissed hello. They would have kept kissing but for the rumbling of their complaining stomaches, neither having eaten in a while. Faith was unable to keep the grin off her face as Buffy got out of bed to shower, holding the sheet to her in mock modesty. Buffy dropped the sheet at the door to the adjoining bathroom, and, hiding her body behind the frame, beckoned to her lover. Faith couldn't race to her fast enough.
After a long shower, they dressed in matching white tee-shirts and dark jeans. They walked downstairs arm in arm, their eyes locked together. Cordy saw some familiar light in their eyes, and she smiled behind her book. She watched them come down the stairs, hardly paying mind to where she sat in an armchair, reading. Happiness filled her limbs at the sight of the two Slayers, because she had gotten really attached to Faith in the year that the girl had spent in prison, and she knew that Faith had always loved Buffy, despite sometimes violent protests from Faith.
"So, lovebirds, awake at last? Or did you ever sleep?"
Faith seperated from Buffy, coming up to Cordy with a smile. Surprise overtook her as the younger girl hugged her warmly; the Faith she remembered didn't volunteer affection easily. She smelled sex on Faith, and instantly knew why the Slayers were so happy. *Damn! Is everyone having great orgasms but me?!*
"Hey Queen C. Did we keep ya awake?"
Cordy put on a mock glare. "Yes, you noisy bitch. Nothing but 'oh B, fuck me harder' all night long. Gunn kept having to go 'relieve tension'."
Faith threw back her head and laughed loudly, hands on narrow hips. "Oh you know you love it loud, C."
"Shut the fuck *up*."
Faith began an exuberant cheerleader dance around the chair, clapping her hands and smiling brightly. "Say it with me, Cor...'I'm perky! I'm cute! I'm popular to boot!'"
"SHUT UP!!!"
"'I'm bitchin'! Great hair! The boys all love to stare!'"
Buffy was barely able to contain her amusement as the former Queen of Mean attacked the dark-haired Slayer and an all-out hair pulling, limp-wristed bitch slapping, and eye scratching war ensued. Faith, strong, buff Slayer that she was, soon found herself on the recieving end of some vicious tugs on her luscious brown locks. Cordelia showed no mercy, and eventually, heeding Faith's piteous screams, trying (and failing miserably) not to giggle, Buffy intervened.
"Wuss."
"She fights dirty!" Faith whined, rubbing her maligned scalp. Buffy snorted. "I repeat my earlier statement. Wuss."
Cordy smirked as Faith glared with injured dignity at the laughing Buffy.
"Awww...Faithy's whiiipppped..."
"Shuddup C."
"Whiiiipppppeedd!"
"Shut up!"
Buffy, seeing another bitch fit in her head, quickly separated the two. She asked Cordelia if there was any place that they could all go out to. Faith brightened noticeably at the mention of dancing. Cordy thought a moment. "Welll...there's this great place called Carita's run by a demon...Angel hates it 'cause they make him sing there. It's like a karaoke bar. Yes, Faith, you can dance. But no lap, or pole, I'm afraid, so you might wanna stay home."
Cordy ducked as a punch was thrown her way. "I'll go get the guys." She said, hurriedly escaping.
A few hours later, the gang had dressed and was in Angel's black SUV. Wesley, having deigned not to go, remained in the front window, sullenly glaring at Faith's arm around Buffy's waist. Angel was pushed reluctantly into driving, whining something like 'don' wanna sing!' to an uncaring Cordelia. She was dressed in a pink halter, purloined from Faith, (who suffered a round of tormenting from Buffy as a result) and jeans. Fred was bouncing ecstatically beside her, dressed in a rather conservative scoop neck, and jeans.
Buffy had decided to return to her milder wardrobe, choosing a modest red tank top, and black capri pants. Faith looked the most stunning of them all, dressed as per her usual, in skintight leather, a black choker, and a dark red corset with black lacings. Her cleavagey, sultry look caused Buffy to jump her the second she got in the car, sliding onto the dark-haired Slayer's lap and kissing her. Gunn, in typical male fashion, squirmed nervously, unable to fully process the furiously necking Slayers a seat behind him. After thirteen consequtive non-subtle looks from both males, an ominous silence among the guys in the car, and a screech of tires after Buffy moaned, Cordelia cleared her throat loudly.
"Umm, hello? Nymphos one and two? Could you please refrain from giving the guys heart attacks until we are not in a moving vehicle? Thank you."
The Slayers slid apart, grinning at each other lasciviously. Buffy admired Faith's blatantly displayed cleavage, and Faith appreciated Buffy's long legs. They didn't stop ogling each other like teenagers until the SUV pulled to a screeching halt beside the club. Buffy held Faith's hand as they got out, whispering in her ear. The brunette threw her head back in laughter and raised her girlfriend's hand to her lips. Angel smiled sadly, shaking his head in something like wonder. The image from last night popped unbidden into his head, and he crossed his legs, desperately trying to think of a fungus demon.
Cordelia and Fred exited together as well, ignoring a jittery Gunn, who kept muttering 'Are they allowed to be that hot?!' and the like. Fred sighed happily, tilting her head as she watched the Slayers galavant ahead of the procession, giggling at some joke only they could understand. "So nice to see Slayers in love. Look at 'em. A day ago, Buffy was crying her eyes out over that dark-haired one, and *now* look at her. She can't get enough."
Cordy smiled at Fred, hoping she didn't sound too panicked. "Yeah, love is a beautiful thing. No matter who it happens to, or their gender." Their eyes met, and for a brief moment a spark flashed between them. Then, Cordy dipped Fred a la Clark Gable in Gone With The Wind, and kissed her full on the mouth.
"Damnit." Angel and Gunn muttered simultaneously, holding their jackets discretely over their crotches. Faith just laughed and began to hum 'Another One Bites The Dust' while Buffy rested her head on a bare shoulder. They entered the club, and were immediately greeted by a yellow-clad, green-skinned demon.
"Well, 'allo, 'allo, 'allo!" Lorne crooned, kissing the proffered hands of both Slayers. "Looking lovely tonight, ladies. And who's that handsome dog?! Angel! Gonna sing for me again, buddy?"
"No." Angel muttered sullenly, while Buffy covered a laugh with a cough. Angel had time for one last helpless look, before he was dragged off by the exuberant Lorne, looking paler than normal. The green-skinned demon waved a hand behind him, indicating the bar. "Enjoy yourselves loves! Drinks are on the house! C'mon vampire, how 'bout some Barry Manilow..."
"No!"
Faith dragged Buffy onto the dancefloor. "C'mon!"
She yelled over the music, bouncy and upbeat. Buffy grinned at her new girlfriend (*Yesssss! Scoooore!*) and joined Faith in a re-enactment of their Bronzing days. They pulsed against each other, Faith's brown curls thrashing around her head as she twined her hands above her head. Buffy noted stares from many males on the floor, and put her arms around Faith possesively, staking her claim. The two Slayers were molten steel, silk, and lightening, power and grace. Faith's darkness radiated from her like a flame, while Buffy glowed in her own silvery aura.
As she danced, Buffy thought Faith reminded her of when you were little, and you drew with the brightest Crayolas, then covered it with black scribbles. If you scratched at the black, the brightness glimmered through, undeniable. Faith was like that, Buffy concluded; the blackness was as much a part of her as the light, but it made her whole, human.
volcano girls we really can't be beat warm us up and watch us blow but now and then we fail and we admit defeat we're falling off we are watered down and fully grown leave me lying here cuz i don't wanna go...
When the band finished their set, the girls paused to clap, before heading to the bar to excercise their Slayer metabolisms. Buffy ordered two shots of tequila, trying to imitate Faith's easy, practiced knock-back. She spilled a little, causing Faith to feel she had to clean it up with kisses. Amid giggles and cries of 'That tickles!' Buffy welcomed the feeling of security she felt, in the pit of her stomach. Butterflies began to flap madly whenever she saw Faith, even just out of the corner of her eye, but she knew that it was okay, because it was Faith. Simple, easy, uncomplicated.
"So," she began, pausing to take a shot and wipe her mouth. "What happens now?"
"Well actually, I think that Angel's going to sing 'The Way You Look Tonight', but he doesn't seem that happy about it..."
"Faith..."
"I know, I know. Sorry."
As the strains of a really bad version of "The Way You Look Tonight' floated rather reluctantly to their ears, Buffy reached out and cupped Faith's face in her palm.
"I *meant* where do we go from here? Do you..do you wanna be with me, or, or do you still need some time?"
Faith grabbed Buffy's hand in her own, and kissed it fiercely. "God, no. No, B, you're stuck with me. For life, however long that is. I just don't wanna go back to the 'Dale just yet, right? I..don't think I can handle it. You can leave without me, I know you've got the little D to watch out for."
Buffy didn't need to ask how Faith knew who Dawn was. "Nope, I'm stayin' with you, Slayer. We're partners, remember? Besides, Dawnie's in boarding school, her junior year now, with Spike to watch her. We've got a big house to ourselves..."
Faith grinned, then turned sober. "Heard about your mom. Sorry, B. She...she was great."
Buffy nodded. "Yeah." There was a quiet pause, as each Slayer reflected on a a woman they had each loved dearly. Faith absently rubbed Buffy's hand, barely aware that she did so. Buffy admired the ever-present rings on Faith's slender fingers, and neither spoke for a long moment. Rather than being awkward, the silence was comfortable, in the sense of two women who've been together so long they don't need words. Finally, Faith murmured a remark about the couple kissing across the bar, and Buffy laughed. They ordered cocktails and resumed their topic.
"So, tough-stuff, you'll stick with me, huh?"
"'Til I get bored, at least." Faith dodged a punch. "Whoa! Just kiddin' ya B! Little humor?"
"Don't joke about that, kit." Buffy said, but she was smiling wryly. Faith wiped her lips with the back of her hand, unconsiously sexy as always.
"Speaking of kit...you have a nickname, but *I* don't."
Buffy pouted, sipping her Manhatten. Faith cocked her head, displaying a length of pale neck to the slavering demons and vampires.
"What? D'ya not like B, or something? All right...how 'bout Fuffy? Okay, no need to get violent! Staker? Little Killer? No?"
Buffy was trying valiantly to hold in laughter. Her lover, knowing she was winning, let out a grin. "Miss Pointy? Nah..that makes you sound like a transvestite...Pop Tart?"
Buffy let out a quick giggle, and slapped her hand over her mouth, turning steadily redder. Faith tilted her head again, grinning wolfishly.
"Boo-boo kitty-fuck?"
That was it. The Slayer screamed in helpless mirth, making Angel's voice crack right in the middle of 'Sexual Healing'. She pounded on the bar, creating a neat little dent in the polished surface. Her girlfriend only smiled wider, touseling Buffy's hair affectionately. The bartender stopped beside the two girls, shook his head, and swept away Faith's empty glass. Buffy managed to recover, still giggling sporadically, and emerged from under the bar.
"I'll stick to B, thanks. So, we'll stay here in Hell-A for a few more weeks, and head to Sunnydale when you feel up to it, kay? We'll make a vacation of it, go up to San Fransisco for a week, slay some fashion-conscious vamps. Okay, partner?"
"You got it, boo-boo."
"...at that particular time love had challenged me to stay
at that particular moment i knew not to run away again
that particular month i was ready to investigate with you."
That Particular Time, Alanis Morrisette
It was their last night in L.A.
A short stay had turned into two months, spent trapising across Northern California, and dallying in Santa Monica's silvery beaches. During that time, Faith finally kicked the heroin habit, gotten in shape, and returned to her former state of sexy, bronzed tan. Buffy had gotten a tattoo, (a heart with a stake through it on the small of her back; Faith had an identical one covering her heinous scar) learned how to make Faith's favorite cocktail, and dyed her hair again, as the brunette had been complaining about not being able to call her 'Blondie'. They had made love outdoors, slayed a master vamp, and danced in every club on the coast. It had been a fun reprive, but Buffy felt the call of her hometown, and Faith was finally willing to follow, so here they were at Carita's, for their bon voyage party.
Fred and Cordy were swaying slowly together, wrapped in each other's arms. Angel was chatting up a pretty blonde, trying to forget that he had lost both his Slayers. *To each other, no less....God, I'm a loser.*
Gunn and Wesley, who had forgiven Faith at last, were playing darts, and the Slayers were making out in a corner. Usual behavior, as they had never gotten out of their 'can't keep hands off' stage, and never would. Lorne fluttered around, trying to coax people into singing, and finally lit upon the engaged Slayers, tapping boldly on Faith's shoulder. The brunette groaned, and whipped around.
"What?!"
The Host faked a hurt gesture, laying a green hand on his suit. "Am I not welcome?"
"You bloody well aren't." Faith growled, having picked up Wesley's terms. Buffy, sensing a fight about to happen, touched Faith gently. "Whaddya want, Greenie? And make it quick."
"Just wanted one of my dears to sing for me. You two are leaving tomorrow, and I still haven't read you. Aren't you curious?"
"Fuck n-"
Buffy cut her off. "Sure. After all, you've been *so* kind to us. Faith?"
The brunette glared at her. "No fuckin' way. You go."
"Fine then, grumpster, I will."
She kissed Faith's forehead tenderly, softening the irate brunette. They shared a sweet, chaste kiss, and Buffy sauntered up to the stage. She adjusted the mic, speaking a few choice words to the house band. And then she began.
you were full and fully capable you were self-sufficient and needless your house was fully decorated in that sense you were taken with me to a point a case of careful what you wish for but what you knew was enough to begin
Faith's head snapped up as Buffy smiled at her.
and so you called and courted fiercely so you reached out entirely fearless and yet you knew of reservation and how it serves
The brunette smiled back, and slid onto the dancefloor, weaving to the sweetly fast beat of the song.
and i salute you for your courage and i applaud your perseverence and i embrace you for your *faith* in the face of adversarial forces that i represent So you were in but not entirely you were up for this but not totally you knew how arms-lengthing can mantain doubt and so you fell and you're intact so you dove in and you're still breathing so you jumped and you're still flying if not shocked and i support you in your trusting and i commend you for your wisdom and i'm amazed by your surrender in the face of threatening forces that i represent
Faith danced exuberantly, feeling Buffy's eyes on her as she held the mic to her mouth. The blonde's voice was enduringly out of tune, and every now and then staticky feedback would make the club wince, but it was beautiful. Faith would be constantly amazed by what B would do for love.
you found creative ways to distance you hid away from much through humor your choice of armor was your intellect and so you felt and you're still here and so you died and you're still standing and so you softened and still safely in command
Faith snorted derisively. "Hardly."
self-protection was in times of true danger your best defense to mistrust and be wary surrendering a feat of unequalled measure and i'm thrilled to let you in overjoyed to be let in in kind
Buffy sang the chorus one last time, and then hopped off the stage, winking and blowing a kiss to Faith. Faith made a gesture like catching it, and put it in her pocket. It was a silly, stupid thing, but they did it all the time. It was comforting, strangely sating. The blonde returned to their couch and kissed Faith's forehead delicately.
"Well? Was I another Little Voice out there?"
"More like Little Out Of Tune Voice. Owww!"
"Don't be snide, Faith, it doesn't become you. Now get that fine ass out there."
Faith grimaced, rubbing the spot on her arm where Buffy had smacked her.
"What?"
"You heard me. I went, and now it's your turn. So...go!"
"I didn't agree to this!" Faith whined as she was steadily pushed towards the stage.
"Sure ya did. Now sing!"
The brunette shot a look of pure hatred at Buffy, and climbed haughtily onto the stage. Immediately, all conversation on the dancefloor stopped, and Lorne waved for silence among those at the bar. Faith accepted a long-legged stool and a guitar from the bass player, at her velvet-voiced request. She arranged herself delicately on the stool, and strummed the guitar a few times, tuning it. Her fingers played lightly over the strings, and her brown arm rested comfortably on the body. She looked as if she knew what she was doing, and Buffy remembered in a shock that Faith had been in a band when Buffy found her.
The dark-eyed Slayer leaned forward and spoke softly into the mic.
"Umm..hey guys. I'm a little nervous." She confided, chuckling a bit. The crowd seemed to sympthasize with her, surging to be closer to the brunette woman who had them all under her thrall. She tossed her hair elegantly, and plucked a cord on the instrument on her lap.
"Well, I guess I should sing, but you'll've probably heard cats that're better than me."
She smiled winningly as the crowd roared in disagreement. "All right then. B, this is...this is for you, because you're...everything. Here goes." She leaned forward, took a deep breath and began.
don't stray don't ever go away i should be much too smart for this you know it gets the better of me sometimes when you and i collide i fall into an ocean of you pull me out in time; don't let me drown let me down, i say it's all because of you now here i go losin' my control i'm practicing your name so i can say it to your face it doesn't seem right to look you in the eyes let all the things you mean to me come tumblin' out my mouth indeed it's time tell you why i say it's infinitely true
The room fell silent as the first notes hit the air. Faith's voice was intoxicating, spellbinding, like a mist that weaved and permeated the air. Buffy's sweet rendition had been beautiful, and Faith's was as well, but nowhere near Buffy's off-key solo. She was shining, a starlit starlight angel, purring almost shyly into the mic, giving the audience a glimpse of her chocolate eyes, before ducking her head again.
say you'll stay don't come and go like you do sway my way yeah, i need to know all about you
Buffy was enthralled, enraptured, hanging on every chord. Faith's gaze met hers for a brief moment, and she smiled, close to tears.
and there's no cure and no way to be sure why everything's turned inside out instilling so much doubt it makes me so tired i feel so uninspired my head is battling with my heart my logic has been torn apart and now it all turns sour come sweets in my every afternoon say you'll stay don't come and go like you do sway my way yeah, i need to know all about you say you'll stay don't come and go like you do sway my way yeah, i neeed to kno-oh-ohw all about you it's all because of you it's all because of you and now it all turns sour come sweets in my every afternoon it's time tell you why i say it's infinitely true
The last chorus made Buffy's heart swell, and she gazed at her girlfriend, holding the crowd under her thumb, the most fucking gorgeous creature in the universe. More confident now, the brunette's velvetine tones brushed the ears of human and demon alike, almost lovingly. She was a star, a sion, a supernova exploding in the most powerful of ways. Her brightness was her song.
say you'll stay don't come and go like you do sway my way yeah, i need to know all about you it's all because of you it's all because of you it's allll because of you
On the last 'because of you', Faith looked up and into Buffy's eyes, holding them together. Buffy felt it; a physical caress, and a ghostly whisper in her ear.
*I'll always love you, B.*
*Ditto, kitten.*
CHAPTER FOURTEEN: Homeward The Angels Fly
"if i drift to the slight-right and squint into the fast-dying chariot of Helios's prize, i can glimpse a little more concrete than grit in the teeth and the running red angels that homeward fly to scale these towered demons and return.." Sunset, J.V '02
They stumbled into the Hyperion, only half-drunk, but giggling like crazed children. Lorne had predicted a sweet, long life together, smiling with tears in his eyes as he held their hands. He had looked at Faith a little sadly, but they were willing to ignore that tonight. Fred and Cordy were at Cordy's apartment, where Cordy was undoubtably trying out the maneuver Faith taught her on Fred. Wesley was still out with Gunn, and Angel had blearily nodded goodnight, and disappeared into his room. They were alone.
Together, they lit their room in the soft, muted light of candles, stripped each other naked, and kissed on the bed, hands everywhere. Buffy couldn't get enough of Faith's soft, yet dominating mouth, her thick brown hair, and her silken skin, sliding under questing hands. Faith reveled in her lover's beauty, and was proud of her ownership, her right to Buffy's taught muscles and smooth skin. She had a possesive need to kiss every soft inch of B, mark her territory, so to speak. She bit down gently into the place where shoulder met neck, hearing Buffy's gasp.
The blonde pressed her lips to Faith's face, her mouth sweeping over cheekbones, stubborn chin, thick, langorous lashes, arched brows, anxious forehead, beautifully crooked nose, and finally stopping to pet the fullness of Faith's own mouth. Her lover's eyes shone in the light of the various candles, tears of quiet happiness hovering in their murky pools of blackened brown. Buffy kissed them away, knowing that too many tears had flown from those eyes in twenty years.
They started slow, on their knees facing each other, hands roaming shyly. Every time they made love, it felt like the first, a virgin territory yet uncharted. Faith dipped her head and licked Buffy's pink nipple lazily, twirling her tongue like an expert. She caressed the tattoo on Buffy's back as she did so, feeling her lover do the same on her own back. She sucked hard a moment, relishing the soft gasp, and the curl of nails digging into her shoulder. Her hand swept around to rest temptingly on the blonde's thigh, her dark red nails clenching ever-so-slightly, the way B loved it. The older Slayer dragged Faith's head up to kiss her passionately, her mouth fierce and demanding. Faith smiled into the kiss, sliding her fingers playfully against Buffy's swollen, wet sex.
Buffy cried out in frustration and want, as her dark-haired lover teased her mercilessly, petting her like a kitten. She writhed her upper body, nails biting into Faith's narrow shoulders, making the other girl stare in open appreciation. Faith kissed B's wildly beating pulse on the side of her neck, and slipped a tapered finger in to the wet channel. The older girl mewled helplessly, her hips bucking, desperate for *more*. But her partner was determined, mind set on taking it slow.
"Patience is a virtue, B." Faith taunted, her breath whispering on the blonde's neck. Her breathing grew rapid as Buffy moaned in downright exasperation, and penetrated Faith with two fingers.
"Which you apparently don't have..." Faith gasped, her hips moving in tandem with Buffy's.
Now it was the older girl's turn to tease. "Like that, Faith? Or like *this*?"
"Ohhhh...it's all...it's all good, B." The dark-haired girl was finding it hard to breathe, let alone talk. Simultaneously, without a word spoken, they stopped their teasing, and began to fuck in earnest, slick bodies moving against each other. The Slayers added more fingers, plunging their respective digits in and out, almost in unison. Their unused hands were threading through dark hair, stroking rippling upper arms, too overcome with pleasure to do more than whimper the other's name. Neither was sure anymore where the other ended and they began, Faith was Buffy, and Buffy was Faith, meshed together so deeply that nothing existed. Beyond this bed, these bodies, and this room, there was nothing, no Sunnydale, no L.A. Just their souls, entwined as thoroughly as their bodies.
Faith began to feel the tensing of B's inner walls, knowing that Buffy was feeling her own contractions begin. They worked each other faster, suddenly desperate to come, and come soon. Faith felt her clit being massaged by Buffy, and she mimicked the movement, as if they were one person.
Buffy came first, shrieking Faith's name into her shoulder, just seconds before the younger girl shuddered, crying out 'Ohhh god....B!'. Exhausted and sweaty, they leaned on each other's shoulders, breathing heavily. Faith lifted her head, and kissed Buffy tiredly, expressing her love in a soft press of lips. Buffy pulled Faith down with her, tugging the covers up over them wearily. She snuggled close to her lover, spooning with her arms around Faith's waist. She felt a soft hand lay on her encircling arms, and sighed contentedly, falling asleep almost instantly.
The younger Slayer stayed awake, staring out at the half-moon. Tomorrow night, she would see this same moon in Sunnydale. The place of her madness, her murdering, her death, of sorts. She didn't know if she would be welcomed, or rebuked, but she knew she had to go, to stay with B. Her head was telling her something bad awaited her in the 'Dale, but her heart told her to follow her love. She had no choice really; whatever happened, she'd face it with B, and ride it out. There was no other alternative.
*What a girl will do for love,* she mused, smiling, and leaned over to blow out the candle on the bedside table.
...to be continued...