The Scarlet Letter
by Shalane
Rating: PG-13
Spoilers: Buffy season 3.
Note: Mainly from Faith's POV.
I caught her so easily. A quick fist to the head, and she was out.
Buffy was always so sensitive to blows on her head, if you knew where to hit. I chuckle as she falls into my arms and take her to my motel room.
Buffy awoke to an intent Faith sitting next to her on the bed. She was on her back with her arms and legs tied. Her eyes narrowed when she recognized the dark slayer. She remained wary when Faith didn't move.
"Hey, B. Glad you could join me," I say with familiar ease.
"No problem. What are you doing?" Always asking the wrong question, B. It's not what I'm doing, it's what you did.
I simply say "I want to have a little chat." That's not all I want. Why, why, why?
"I want to talk about our relationship. And what the rules were."
Yeah, you'd better be scared, you stupid bitch. Didn't you think I'd know? Did you think I couldn't smell him on you?
But Buffy just remains calm. "Faith, we never had a relationship. Just because I helped you and you helped me with that post-slaying itch, it doesn't mean anything." Buffy could see that saying that didn't make me any calmer. I grab her beautiful golden hair and twist. She shows no sign of pain. My brave girl.
"It did. I told you, I fucking own you." I notice her movements to break the ropes and snap at her. "I wouldn't do that if I were you."
Buffy's eyes are locked on mine. I can feel myself falling into those green depths, as I have so many other times. So soulful.
"Please."
God, her voice makes me wet, that sexy little breath and the word that gives me the power. She knows what she does to me. I snap out of it.
"No. You don't get to do that anymore. You fucked him, Buffy!" Now that I've said it out loud, it must be true. She fucked Angel. Buffy, my Buffy, slept with the man that tried to kill everyone close to her. She sits there, looking offended at my choice of word, like she's too delicate for something so coarse. She doesn't deny it. She says nothing. Please, say something. "Well?"
"Well, what would you like me to say, Faith? I'm sorry you got so attached to me, I never meant for that to happen. But I love Angel. C'mon, beautiful..." she says as she notices I'm about to cry. Anger. Anger is better. I force it to rally behind my words.
"You're sorry I....No. It's you who should be sorry. You had me, B. But now, I'm going to make sure you never forget me."
With these words, I grab Buffy's right leg, push up her skimpy little "fuck-me" skirt to reveal the tan, muscled smoothness of her leg. I bend to my work, and the scream that comes from her pretty mouth fills me half with excitement, half with regret. It's her fault I have to do this. I loved you, B.
"Hey Buffy! What's with the pants, it's broiling hot? Not as hot as your skinny-little self, I might add," Xander babbled on the steps of the school.
Buffy just gave him a distracted little smile, as her hand gently brushed a gauze pad taped to her leg under her pants. On her thigh there was now a permanent mark of Faith's "affection." The red F mocked her, a reminder that next time the former lovers meet, it won't be pretty.