The Red Petticoat
by Sulks
Rating: PG-13
Author's Notes: This is a sort of a weird Little Red Riding Hood adaptation. I'd been thinking about writing a Little Red Riding Hood adaptation, but then THIS crap spewed out this morning. I think it's kinda...well, weird. But still. Anyway, it's weird drivel, but it's *unhappy* drivel, so you should not read this if you're lookin' for perky.
Once in a city by the sea, there lived a young girl who was loved by her mother and her grandmother. Her grandmother lavished attention on her only grandchild and showered the young girl with gifts. On her sixteenth birthday, she gave the girl a brilliant red petticoat that the girl had squealed and exclaimed over. She wore it every chance she had, and she became known as Red Petticoat, rather than her given name which was Buffy Anne Summers.
It came to pass that one day Buffy's grandmother fell ill. She lived on the outskirts of town, in a tiny cottage in Miller's Woods. It was rumoured that the woman was slightly mad, but Sunnydale was a mad town, and other than the occasional gossip, no one paid much heed to a harmless old widow who lived all by herself in a tiny cottage on the outskirts of a city by the sea.
The old woman spoke of vampires and werewolves, witches and demons-- all creatures that the modern world had come to reject as mere myths. After all, vampires were merely figments of the imagination in movies and in books, and the idea of a vampire probably emerged during a time that was long past, when people were sometimes buried alive. Things like that just didn't happen now. Joyce, Buffy's mother, loved her mother but thought that she had gone senile and had become unable to differentiate between reality and fantasy.
But Buffy had a secret. She knew that her grandmother was not crazy or insane, but privy to the truth that Buffy had almost always known about Sunnydale-- that it was infested with vampires and werewolves, demons and witches. She was the Chosen One, the young woman who must protect the world from the vampires and other miscellaneous demons. It was her cross it was to bear, and her grandmother was one of the few people she could share it with. When her grandmother became ill, Buffy was worried simultaneously because she was concerned about her grandmother's welfare, but also because she didn't want to lose one of her few confidants.
"Take this thermos of chicken noodle soup," Joyce said, handing her daughter a large red thermos. "And this," she continued, handing Buffy a small gift basket that Joyce had arranged for her mother containing packets of tea and cold medications. "Stay with your grandmother for a while and keep her company."
Buffy gladly agreed. She grinned at her mother. "Can I borrow the car?"
Joyce glowered at her, but sighed. "Take the car, but take the main road, don't try to take any short cuts. It's dangerous to veer off the main road."
Buffy rolled her eyes, "Mom! It's 4 in the afternoon!"
"Even so," Joyce said nervously. She'd been hearing reports of gang activity, and granted all those incidents occurred late at night, but she was still a mother and had the worry gene firmly in place.
"Okay, okay," Buffy agreed, snatching the keys from her mother's hand. She walked out the kitchen door towards the Jeep parked in the driveway. Joyce shook her head.
She had been driving for a while and when she saw the one of the warning lights start to blink and the sound of the engine beginning to die. She cursed mightily and pulled over to the side of the road, smoke coming from underneath the hood. "Dammit!" Buffy cursed. She stood off to the side of the road, looking forlorn, unable to think of what to do. There were no other cars or buildings nearby, since she had exited the road to go off onto the main path (which was considerably less populated than Sunnydale's only main highway) that would eventually lead to her grandmother's house. "Fuck," Buffy groaned, cursing her grandmother's real estate agent for finding a place that was so dirt-cheap.
And then a red convertible came roaring down the path, screeching to a halt when the driver spotted Buffy. It pulled over to the side. The driver got out of the car, and Buffy ran over to her, crowing with happiness. "Thank you!" she exclaimed, "I don't know what's wrong with it!"
Buffy stopped short when she saw the driver of the car. Slightly taller than Buffy, the girl was thin with long, sleek dark hair and dark eyes. She smiled with amusement and she tucked strands of hair behind her ear. Buffy's eyes were strangely drawn to a ring the girl wore on her thumb. "I'll take a look at it," she said simply, walking past Buffy and opening the hood to the Jeep. She fiddled inside the hood, silently, for an hour. Buffy took the time to observe her silent saviour and again, her eyes were drawn to the ring on Faith's thumb. It wasn't a particularly pretty ring, and it was obvious that Faith only wore it on her thumb because it was too large for her other fingers...Buffy became lost in thought and almost didn't notice when Faith stepped away and then slammed the hood shut, flashing a startled Buffy a triumphant grin. "Try it out."
Buffy turned on the ignition and was thrilled to hear the hum of the engine, and to see that no warning lights were blinking. "Thank you SO much," Buffy said. "How can I ever repay you?" She killed the ignition and got out of the car.
The girl shrugged. "Got any anti-bacterial hand gel?"
Buffy grinned. "Actually, I do!" Buffy exclaimed handing the girl the small bottle that was in her purse. "I'm Buffy, by the way."
"Faith."
Buffy glanced at her watch. "God, I'm late--"
"Where are you going?" Faith asked.
"To my grandmother's she's not feeling well."
Faith smirked slightly. "Such a good girl, aren't we?"
Buffy wanted to protest, there was a way Faith had said "good girl" that made Buffy believe she was being mocked. For her part, Faith didn't look like the type of girl who had ever been accused of being "good." There was something dark about her, and it drew Buffy to her. "I'm not so good," Buffy said bravely.
"Really?" Faith asked teasingly.
"Really."
"Prove it."
Buffy's mouth dropped open. She wasn't exactly sure how to respond to this infuriating, but strangely intriguing girl. She couldn't remember ever meeting or seeing the girl before, and on closer inspection, Buffy realised that Faith *was* just a girl, even younger than herself. And yet, despite knowing that the girl was a complete stranger, and knowing little about the girl other than that she was younger than her and could fix a car, Buffy felt as though she knew her. Had always known her.
Buffy had always been somewhat arrogant-- she was after all, the only child of two only children. And of course, she was beautiful. When she was younger, she had a glimmer of understanding about the kind of effect she had on men, even when she was a mere slip of a girl. It was the sort of Lolita-esque quality that Nabokov had described in his infamous text-- the Nymphet Syndrome. But she had loved none of them, despite having an endless supply of boyfriends. She was waiting for *true love* damn it, and even though it sounded cheesy and maudlin to her own ears, that was what she wanted.
Up to that point, she had always liked men and she used her beauty against them. Not because she was being intentionally malicious-- it just so happened that she felt nothing for these men and she felt a sense of entitlement that beauty gave her. When they turned their attentions and their wallets toward her, she merely expected and accepted it. And when they expected something from *her* she turned them away. Red Petticoat and The Ice Queen were two of her nicknames around school. She found it ironic that they would call her the Ice Queen when she put her life in danger for them out of a sense of duty and even a little bit of love for the world.
'I recognise this girl,' Buffy thought. And she was right. Not only for Faith's physical beauty that she grudgingly admitted just might surpass her own--which was a possibility she had not yet entertained. But there was something about this other woman that she recognised, and she was drawn in. 'I'm lost,' she thought to herself. She'd never believed in love at first sight, but then again, she'd never heard of anyone feeling the way she did at that particular moment. She wanted to possess this other girl, to be possessed, to consume and be consumed. 'I could fall in love with this girl,' she said to herself, unwilling to admit that she already had-- falling in love with someone so quickly, within seconds, really, if you thought about it because they'd spent most of their time together with Faith hunched over Buffy's car...it defied logic.
Buffy realised several moments had passed since Faith issued her challenge. The dark-haired brunette had her head cocked to the side, smiling expectantly. Buffy moved closer to her, and grabbed the girl by the back of the head none too gently and crushed their lips together in a kiss. It was uncharacteristic behaviour for the blonde girl who had once declared that she would remain a virgin until she got married. "Doesn't it make sense that I would remain faithful to the man I love even before I met him?" Such foolishly romantic notions.
Faith pulled away, not looking surprised, much to Buffy's disappointment, but a testament to her naiveté: it would take more than a impetuous kiss to surprise Faith. Buffy scowled slightly. "I have to go," she said, remembering her ill grandmother.
Faith nodded knowingly, "off to granny's house you go," she said lightly, one hand resting on a hip that was jutting provocatively out at a slight angle.
"I want to see you again." It was more of a command that fell from the blonde's lips.
"You will." Faith glanced up at the sky. "It'll be faster if you go off this road and take *that* path," she muttered, pointing towards a detour. "It'll be dark soon, and a nice girl like you shouldn't be running about," she said, still teasing. "What, with the full moon, lots of crazies are going to be running around."
Buffy couldn't hold back a snort of laughter. The dark was her home, really. There was nothing she could think of that she couldn't defend herself against. She was no one's fool and no vamp's nighttime nummy snack. She was full of pride. She remembered her mother's warning, and out of reflex, she wanted to obey her. But she certainly wouldn't give Faith the satisfaction of telling her that. "You're wrong," Buffy told her instead. "My way is faster than your way."
Faith's eyebrows rose at the challenging tone. "Is that so?" she asked, her tones silky.
"Yes. In fact, let's try it out. You go your way, I go mine and whoever gets to my grandmother's house first wins."
"Didn't your mother ever tell you not to talk to strangers?" Faith teased.
"My mother's not here," Buffy said, full of bravado.
"How will I know where your grandmother lives?" Faith asked with mock innocence.
Buffy snorted. "Everyone knows where my grandmother lives."
"This is true," Faith nodded in agreement. "But what will I get if I win?"
"Me. And when I win, I get you."
"It's a deal."
And they set off.
It's not hard to imagine who won, is it? Faith, of course. She knocked on the door of the cottage, mimicking Buffy's higher pitched voice when the grandmother called out, "who is it?"
"It's your granddaughter!"
"Come in, my dear," Granny's ancient voice creaked out.
A feral grin came across Faith's features as she opened the door. The old woman's eyes widened with fear as she saw Faith stride to her as she morphed. The old woman didn't even have a chance to speak or scream as Faith grabbed her and sank her fangs into the old woman's neck. She devoured the old woman hungrily, and threw what was remaining into a heap in the corner.
She wrapped granny's bloodstained shawl around her head and shoulders and sat in the rocking chair, her back facing the door. Moments passed and Buffy finally arrived. She did not see Faith's car parked in the front, not knowing it was parked behind the cottage and smiled triumphantly. She knocked on the door, calling out, "it's me, Grandma!"
"Come in," Faith said, mocking granny's ancient voice.
Buffy opened the door and saw the figure in the rocking chair, her back to Buffy. Buffy frowned and approached her, a familiar scent assailed her senses and she felt her stomach tie up in knots, "Grandma?"
Faith turned around, grinning. "Hello."
Buffy's eyes widened, "you..." she approached Faith closer, noticing blood on her cheek and neck. "You're hurt," she breathed, she was at Faith's side at once.
"I'm fine," Faith said with a tiny smirk. Buffy had not yet noticed the body lying in a heap in the corner. She held onto Buffy's hand. They stared at one another for a few minutes before the blonde brought her head closer and kissed the brunette, a metallic taste entered into Buffy's mouth, but she shook it off, ignored it. It wasn't unpleasant to her. Buffy's hands tugged on Faith's tight clothing, fingers slid into moist places. Hours later, Buffy rubbed one of Faith's cold hands, noticing that Faith had taken off the ring that had so entranced her earlier.
"How can you be so cold after what we just did?" Buffy teased, but worried...somewhat disturbed by the coldness of her lover's skin. It had been *almost* warm when she first entered the cottage...human bodies don't get colder AFTER they do...what they had just done. "Go sit by the fire a while."
"I just want to stay like this for a few seconds," Faith sighed, sounding a little wistful. She held onto one of Buffy's hands. "Please? Before it all goes away."
"It won't go away," Buffy said softly, taken aback by the longing in the dark haired girl's voice. They were young; they had all the time in the world, right? And in the back of her mind she knew she should be wondering what became of her grandmother...but...
"You've got such great eyes," Buffy whispered, gently stroking the pads of her thumbs across Faith's eyelids.
"The better to look at you, my love," Faith said, grinning crookedly.
Buffy laughed, "I love your ears, they're so cute," she said, rubbing Faith's earlobes.
"The better to listen to you with, my love," Faith said, an easy grin spreading across her face.
"How did you get this scar?" Buffy asked, tracing a deep scar on the girl's abdomen.
Faith stilled the blonde's roaming hand. "In another time and another place, my...sister stabbed me and left me for dead."
Buffy shivered, "your sister?" she asked, noticing the bitter spin on the word "sister" that Faith had practically spat out.
"My sister of sorts," Faith amended, her eyes somewhat harder.
There was something wrong...nagging Buffy in the back of her mind. But she shook it off and continued her assessment of her lover. "You have such a great smile," Buffy said, "God, I'd kill for your teeth," she murmured, picturing the even, white teeth in that crooked smile.
Faith nipped at Buffy's neck. The blonde squealed. "The better to taste you with, my love" she said in a mock growl/roar. She raised her arms like a bear and pounced on Buffy, tickling the blonde's ribs. She nuzzled Buffy's neck with her nose, and then flicked out her tongue, gently licking a trail on the blonde's exposed throat. Buffy moaned.
"Faith," she breathed. Her eyes rolled back and then shut, as she wrapped her fingers through the dark mane of hair. "Faith..."
"No, seriously," Faith said, her voice becoming slightly more menacing. "The better to taste you with, my *love.*" Fangs dropped down from their sheaths and slid easily into Buffy's delicate neck. Buffy's eyes flew open, and she pushed weakly at Faith's head as the dark-haired girl continued to drink her. But somehow, despite all her strength, she couldn't push the girl away...even as her mind screamed at her about the unnaturalness of a vampire feeding from a Slayer.
"Oh God," Buffy cried out, her eyes shutting tightly at the pain. God, it hurt.
Faith paused for a moment and brought her mouth to Buffy's ear. "Only for a little longer, my love," she said, and brought her lips down over Buffy's neck.
Buffy's eyes rolled back in pleasure as Faith continued to drink. Faith pulled away and cut open her wrist with her fingernail and brought it to Buffy's mouth who sucked at the wound weakly. And soon, she bled to death.
Hours later, Buffy opened her eyes with a hunger she had never known. She turned betrayed eyes upon Faith.
"Do you remember," Faith asked casually, "what it was like when you slid that knife into me?"
Buffy's anger and hatred subsided for a moment as confusion took over.
"Do you remember the way my eyes looked as I threw myself off that building? Do you know what happened after you stabbed me, B? Vamps fed off me and turned me into one of them. Imagine, a Slayer turned into a Vampire, there's no greater curse." Faith snarled.
"What are you TALKING about?" Buffy cried, hating herself for still wanting to be with the girl that had turned her into something she had spent so long fighting.
"In another time and place," Faith muttered. "Do you know what it's like to hate yourself so much, hate what you've become but unable to just end it? Unable to end this instinct for self-survival? I made a deal with someone very powerful so I could do this...it's not as good as the B that I know, but you're close enough."
The face of a beast overtook Buffy's features, and she leaped at Faith, cursing her, screaming at her and hating herself for letting herself be betrayed. She saw the body of her dead grandmother in the corner and felt anger and rage-- though it was not because her grandmother had been murdered. She no longer felt love for the ordinary human being, but she still wanted to be with the one who had ravaged her life. Oh, what true revenge it was. "I'll kill you!" Buffy screamed, the scream of a woman scorned. She broke the rocking chair, her grandmother's favourite chair, and grabbed one of the wooden shards. She understood at this moment how the mythical Medea could have killed her two sons to spite her cheating husband.
They struggled for a few moments and then, Buffy wrestled Faith to the ground. The dark-haired girl lay, prone on her back, still smirking at Buffy even as the blonde pressed the tip of the wooden stake into her chest. "Come on, B. Do it. You know you want to, and I want it too...finish what you did to me." Faith gazed at her ring, the ring of Amara that made a vampire impervious to sunlight, to crosses and to wooden stakes. It was well within her grasp.
Buffy's features contorted with rage and she threw the stake into the fire with an anguished scream and she kissed the brunette with a sob. "I can't," Buffy whispered, truly broken.
Faith began to weep as well. "Why not?" she choked out. "You've taken away my life and given me this instead," she said, pointing to her demon visage as she morphed into it. "Finish ending my life, you've been doing it even before we met..."
"I love you."
Faith snorted. "*You* don't know me."
"I can't kill you."
"Even after what I did to you?" Faith asked, her voice laced with contempt. "You're even weaker than *my* B."
"*I'm* your B now," Buffy growled, "forget the other one. And you are mine. Whatever happened where you came from, didn't happen here. We'll forget about it and get away from this place..." She morphed into her vampire face as well. She was still straddling the brunette when the door crashed open. Buffy and Faith both glanced at the door, seeing Buffy's father and mother in the doorway.
When Buffy's father came home and was made aware of his daughter's whereabouts, he had insisted they look for her. He stared in horror at the two naked demons on the floor of his mother-in-law's cottage. He was unable to recognise his daughter in her demonic visage, his daughter who was no longer innocent. He raised his shotgun towards the blonde demon.
"No!" her mother shouted, knocking the shotgun away. Her mother could recognise Buffy instantly. A father may not be able to recognise his daughter once she was "fallen," but a mother always could.
It was enough.
Enough time for Buffy to leap to her feet, grab Faith and hoist her over her shoulder and crash through a window. They ran to Faith's car and drove away in silence. Buffy wrapped in a leather jacket that Faith kept in the car, Faith clad only in a red tanktop she had managed to grab on their way out of the cottage.
"What about your red petticoat?" Faith asked, a little mournfully. She could see how much the blonde loved the coat.
"It no longer suits me," Buffy murmured, knowing that it was true.
It is nearly dawn, sunlight cannot leak through the curtains of a small, dark motel room. The sun is rising and another Slayer is being called, Hank and Joyce Summers mourn the loss of their only child.
Look how Buffy sleeps in between the arms of Faith, one of two ensouled vampires in the entire world. She'd made a pact with a very powerful individual to be given the chance to appear to another version of her Buffy in exchange for her soul. It was a chance at revenge, and she'd bungled it, and now she had to pay with her soul, with her capacity to love Buffy. Here they had a second chance...
He materialised next to her. "It's time," he said.
"No, wait," she protested. "Please..." She motioned to Buffy who stirred, but did not wake.
"We had a deal--"
"I...I..." she was at a loss for words. "You can undo it."
"I can't do that," he said.
She felt something burn inside her, and she knew that it was her soul leaving her body. He had come through with his end of the bargain, and now she had to pay her debt. For a moment, she was overcome with a sense of panic; her jumbled thoughts wanted to slip the ring of Amara on Buffy's finger and throw the blonde out the door, to see the blonde alighted by day for one final time, so that Buffy could go where Faith would not be able to follow and be safe.
But it was only a moment. And moments to pass quickly, do they not?
Faith opened her the drawer to her nightstand. She still kept a stake there, because old habits do die hard.
"Buffy," Faith muttered softly, pushing away blonde hair to nuzzle the ear beneath it.
"Mm..." Buffy grinned at her, and cocked open an eye. "What is it?" she asked lazily.
"Nothing," Faith whispered as she slammed the stake into Buffy's heart.
Green eyes widened, locking onto brown for a moment, just a moment. And then there was a flurry of ash, ash falling all around her like snow.
Faith rolled out of bed and slipped on the ring of Amara, and walked out the door.
*This* Sunnydale *was* going to be *her* town now. He really had come through on his end of the bargain, and she'd gotten exactly what she wanted. She shook her head, laughing at her foolishness, as if that second chance that never really could have been ever really mattered to her. She had to admit that it had, but that moment had passed.