Commentfic: Wesley and Faith
So this was written from a prompt posted by superkappa over at the BuffyVerse Non-Canon Ficathon. This particular prompt caught my eye partly because I'm RPing Faith and there's a thing between her and Wesley, but mostly because I love this ship. It just works so well.
There's a few things I have to say about this though. Firstly, it's set after Chosen (BtVS S7) and Home (AtS S4). So events from the finales are mentioned, but only obscurely so there's no spoilers (or very minimal ones anyway). I kinda trash Robin/Faith, but that's only in the context of this fic. I think that as characters they found an affinity and had the potential to be a great ship, but it was underwritten and was obviously thrown in at the last minute and therefore meant very little. Some writing notes - I used the second person pronoun "you" a lot, especially for Faith's POV. This wasn't sloppy writing, this was for effect and to hint at the way Faith often sees herself as separate person (see the fight scene at the end of Who Are You - BtVS S4). I also mimicked their voices in the narration, but that's a side note. In any case, here it is...
Title: The Lie.
Fandom: BtVS and AtS.
Word count: 1,754.
Prompt: Pain, by Jimmy Eat World.
Disclaimer: if I owned them, they would have had their own spin off.
Summary: Faith visists Wesley to scratch an itch, to get him out of her head, to satisfy her need. But what happens means more than either would like to admit.
Link:
It’s a lie. She’s just here to scratch an itch, that’s all. Comes in all bright and breezy: “nice digs ya got here Wes, it come free with the sellout?” Just grins at him in that bad girl way she knows he likes, because there’s that flush of colour just beneath his collar that she’s always wanted to lick, cos it looks so much like cherries.
He just smiles that low, dark eyed smile reserved just for her. “Faith. I would have thought you’d be basking in your world-saving victory.”
“Nah.” Walks towards the desk, swinging herself to sit perched on the corner, peering coyly over her shoulder at him. “Couldn’t stand B and the Scoobies, all hyped on the good-guy rush. Figured I’d come along to see y’all, throw ya a housewarming party.”
“Yes.” He draws out the vowel in that unimpressed English way that makes Faith’s toes tingle. Goddam she has to have him. But it’s a lie. Can’t forget that. “We’re quite the corporate powerhouse these days.”
“Good.” Faith jumps off the desk, swinging her arms and backing up slightly. “So that means they won’t miss ya for a coupla hours, yeah?”
Wesley frowns, shooting her a disapproving but obviously tempted look. “Why, what did you have in mind? Nothing to do with broken glass I hope.”
Faith grins at him, but a stab of guilt shoots through her like fire. Never forgotten, never forgiven. She has to remember that. No matter where you go it’ll follow you, always follow. “Relax, Wes. Few beers’d do you good. You look like you’ve still got the world on your shoulders. Didn’t you just help save it too?” Wesley makes British non-committal noises and Faith laughs because how different he is from her entices her, intoxicates her, until she knows that until she has him she won’t be able to get him out of her mind. “Way I figure, the world owes you at least one brewski. I know I do.”
“Well, I suppose I have no choice then. This is clearly the most logical option.”
“You got it. Come on. I’ll meet cha downstairs in five.”
Wesley nods and Faith grins, walks out the door, her body singing with anticipation and the thrill that comes before a conquest. But don’t forget. Don’t forget it’s a lie. This isn’t what you feel. Can’t feel. Feel and you get weak, vulnerable. It’s an itch, that’s all. Just an itch.
* * *
It’s a lie. Wesley knows this. Faith comes in, all grins and sultry eyes, and he just knows she’s spoiling for some fun. He knows it’s not real. So why is he going along with it? Normally he’s more sensible, sits at the sidelines. Though there was that thing with Lilah. But that was obviously justified by... what exactly? Every time he tries to pinpoint how it started his mind just slides off the reason, like trying to stare at a fuzzy picture. Never mind. It probably doesn’t matter.
Wesley meets Faith in the downstairs lobby 1 minute and 24 seconds before she said to be there. But she’s waiting already.
“Ready to go there, sport?”
“Certainly.”
The bar she chooses is seedy, even at this sunset hour. But the music is good, the beer cold, and Faith’s eyes across the table keep drifting to his neck like she’s ready to pounce. She does look spectacular in the dim light, it must be said. Dark curls framing a delicate face, but eyes that burn with a fire darker than her years should know. Wesley finds himself intoxicated, drinking in her every word, yearning to be closer, to touch, to feel...
This is ridiculous. You are in love with Fred, that radiant beauty. Not that she’ll ever notice you. And Faith... well, she’s so accommodating. Knows him better than Fred ever will, because she helped create the darkness inside him that taunts him every night. And yet he still feels guilty. He was her Watcher, he should have been the one to realise she was struggling, to catch her before she fell from grace. Whatever happened to her, whatever she did, was partially his fault. They both need redemption. Perhaps there’s a chance they can find it in each other.
This is how Wesley justifies what happens next. A kind of redemption, an affinity, two souls coming together, however briefly. Really, he knows none of this is true, or at least not in the way he wants it to be.
But Faith’s giving him that killer sultry smile/smouldering eyes combination that makes his heart flutter and desire curl in his stomach. So when she casually invites herself to his flat, he agrees.
* * *
Yes. Good. His apartment. Wesley goes to get tea, or wine, or whatever because it doesn’t matter because she’s here. Faith grins to herself, breathing slowly because her heart is pumping so fast, too fast. She needs him. She doesn’t know why. But ever since they teamed up to take down the villain she hasn’t been able to get him out of her skull. And boy, did she try. Jumped on the first guy she saw, actually tried to create a relationship, but who was she kidding. He was just a convenience, nice as he was. This was what she really needed. This was why she ditched the Slayer Squad. This - the excitement coursing through her, the familiar scents in the apartment, Wesley coming back into the room with that look in eyes that assures her he isn’t gonna play nice.
“So.”
“Yeah.”
Then suddenly he’s pressed against her in a rush of passion, lips crushed on hers, clinging her to him like he needs her to feel real. And of course she kisses back, gasping as he almost throws her against the wall. Hands fumbling, shirt off, bra off, more hands, pants off. God yes. Then there’s just Wesley (Wesley!) and her, and the need they’ve repressed for so long. Somehow they’re on the floor, and Wesley’s darker than she ever expected, more vicious and yet more tender too. Oh yes. Yes yes.
Then it’s done. Time has no meaning. Faith doesn’t know if they’ve been here a minute or an hour.
“Woah.” Her breath comes ragged, hot, and he chuckles against her cheek.
“Quite.”
She turns her head to look into his eyes and grins wide. “Again?”
“Of course.”
* * *
Again and again until they’re spent. Wesley lies there, Faith next to him but staring at the ceiling. When he glances at her he can’t decipher the expression on her face. That girl will always be a mystery to him. Though he suspects he knows her better than anyone, except maybe one other.
So here they lie, silent, unmoving. There’s no banter, no street girl chatter from Faith, no sensitive murmurs from him. It’s like they’re not here, like it never happened. He keeps expecting her to leave, fob him off with some power girl line (that was great, I gotta shower). Keeps expecting her to say something, do something. Be Faith-the-Vampire-Slayer again. But she just breathes softly. Did he do something wrong? Was this all very, very wrong?
“Chill, Wes.” Her whisper jolts him out of his tumultuous thoughts. “I can feel you all tense and British. It was good. Like, way good. Out of this world good.”
Wesley grins, the tension slipping away. “Five by five, even?”
“Dude.” Faith flips herself so she’s leaning on her hand, grinning at him. “That was ten by ten.”
“Radical.”
Suddenly she laughs, the burst of merriment ricocheting around the flat. “Man, no way can you pull that off!”
Still giggling, she slips out of bed, hunting around for her clothes. Wesley watches her dress, unashamed now to admire her body as she weaves lithely around the furniture.
“So... will you be heading back to Sunnydale soon?” Wesley’s question is casual, but there’s meaning behind the words.
“Gotta,” Faith calls back, not looking around. “Chief Giles has got some big plan to unite the slayers. Create an army or whatever. I can only skip out on my big sister duties for so long. Mind you, after a coupla weeks with those whiny kids I was beggin’ for jail.”
Wesley looks down at the duvet as she talks, a slight frown on his face. Of course. He was stupid to think...
“Naturally. I mean about you being part of the plan of course. It’s right for you to take your place among your kin.”
Faith turns now to give him an odd look. “Uh... sure. Anyhows, I wanna be outta the city before daylight, so...”
“So this is goodbye.”
Faith shrugs. There’s a silence that spreads until Wesley’s ears are ringing with it.
“Well, good luck,” he says, attempting breezy.
“Yeah. Oh you too. With the whole evil corporation thing. Got a good feelin’ bout that.” She winks, and there’s that rush again. Only this time it’s empty. Doesn’t mean anything.
“Yes. Well. Do you want me to walk you to...?” He half gets out of bed.
“Nah, it’s cool. I’m gettin’ the bus and I remember the way from... the first time I was here.” There’s a dark look that fleets across her face, but it’s gone before Wesley can analyse it. “I’d better scatter anyway, so...”
Another silence, but this one is briefer. Faith, now clothed, breaks it by dashing suddenly to the bed, kissing Wesley gently, her hand soothing against one cheek.
“Bye, Wes,” she breathes.
Before he knows it, she’s gone, the door slamming.
“Bye.”
* * *
Stupid. Stupid to feel, stupid to fall. He’s just Wesley. Good old stuffy Wesley, who shrieks when anyone so much as picks up a sword near him. But no. Not any more. That guy back there, he’s not the man she met four years ago. Something’s changed, he’s more... like her. That frightens her a bit. And she was stupid to think he’d say something, ask her to stay just a little longer. To be with him again.
But no. Doesn’t matter. Just get on the bus, don’t let yourself think about it. Think about the way he touched you, held you, whispered your name while he...
NO.
After all, it was just an itch. And now it’s scratched. No need to go down that road again. So just sit here on the bus, focusing on the days ahead, what’s left of destiny. Because those feelings, that moment, it was just a lie. All a lie.
.
There's a few things I have to say about this though. Firstly, it's set after Chosen (BtVS S7) and Home (AtS S4). So events from the finales are mentioned, but only obscurely so there's no spoilers (or very minimal ones anyway). I kinda trash Robin/Faith, but that's only in the context of this fic. I think that as characters they found an affinity and had the potential to be a great ship, but it was underwritten and was obviously thrown in at the last minute and therefore meant very little. Some writing notes - I used the second person pronoun "you" a lot, especially for Faith's POV. This wasn't sloppy writing, this was for effect and to hint at the way Faith often sees herself as separate person (see the fight scene at the end of Who Are You - BtVS S4). I also mimicked their voices in the narration, but that's a side note. In any case, here it is...
Title: The Lie.
Fandom: BtVS and AtS.
Word count: 1,754.
Prompt: Pain, by Jimmy Eat World.
Disclaimer: if I owned them, they would have had their own spin off.
Summary: Faith visists Wesley to scratch an itch, to get him out of her head, to satisfy her need. But what happens means more than either would like to admit.
Link:
It’s a lie. She’s just here to scratch an itch, that’s all. Comes in all bright and breezy: “nice digs ya got here Wes, it come free with the sellout?” Just grins at him in that bad girl way she knows he likes, because there’s that flush of colour just beneath his collar that she’s always wanted to lick, cos it looks so much like cherries.
He just smiles that low, dark eyed smile reserved just for her. “Faith. I would have thought you’d be basking in your world-saving victory.”
“Nah.” Walks towards the desk, swinging herself to sit perched on the corner, peering coyly over her shoulder at him. “Couldn’t stand B and the Scoobies, all hyped on the good-guy rush. Figured I’d come along to see y’all, throw ya a housewarming party.”
“Yes.” He draws out the vowel in that unimpressed English way that makes Faith’s toes tingle. Goddam she has to have him. But it’s a lie. Can’t forget that. “We’re quite the corporate powerhouse these days.”
“Good.” Faith jumps off the desk, swinging her arms and backing up slightly. “So that means they won’t miss ya for a coupla hours, yeah?”
Wesley frowns, shooting her a disapproving but obviously tempted look. “Why, what did you have in mind? Nothing to do with broken glass I hope.”
Faith grins at him, but a stab of guilt shoots through her like fire. Never forgotten, never forgiven. She has to remember that. No matter where you go it’ll follow you, always follow. “Relax, Wes. Few beers’d do you good. You look like you’ve still got the world on your shoulders. Didn’t you just help save it too?” Wesley makes British non-committal noises and Faith laughs because how different he is from her entices her, intoxicates her, until she knows that until she has him she won’t be able to get him out of her mind. “Way I figure, the world owes you at least one brewski. I know I do.”
“Well, I suppose I have no choice then. This is clearly the most logical option.”
“You got it. Come on. I’ll meet cha downstairs in five.”
Wesley nods and Faith grins, walks out the door, her body singing with anticipation and the thrill that comes before a conquest. But don’t forget. Don’t forget it’s a lie. This isn’t what you feel. Can’t feel. Feel and you get weak, vulnerable. It’s an itch, that’s all. Just an itch.
* * *
It’s a lie. Wesley knows this. Faith comes in, all grins and sultry eyes, and he just knows she’s spoiling for some fun. He knows it’s not real. So why is he going along with it? Normally he’s more sensible, sits at the sidelines. Though there was that thing with Lilah. But that was obviously justified by... what exactly? Every time he tries to pinpoint how it started his mind just slides off the reason, like trying to stare at a fuzzy picture. Never mind. It probably doesn’t matter.
Wesley meets Faith in the downstairs lobby 1 minute and 24 seconds before she said to be there. But she’s waiting already.
“Ready to go there, sport?”
“Certainly.”
The bar she chooses is seedy, even at this sunset hour. But the music is good, the beer cold, and Faith’s eyes across the table keep drifting to his neck like she’s ready to pounce. She does look spectacular in the dim light, it must be said. Dark curls framing a delicate face, but eyes that burn with a fire darker than her years should know. Wesley finds himself intoxicated, drinking in her every word, yearning to be closer, to touch, to feel...
This is ridiculous. You are in love with Fred, that radiant beauty. Not that she’ll ever notice you. And Faith... well, she’s so accommodating. Knows him better than Fred ever will, because she helped create the darkness inside him that taunts him every night. And yet he still feels guilty. He was her Watcher, he should have been the one to realise she was struggling, to catch her before she fell from grace. Whatever happened to her, whatever she did, was partially his fault. They both need redemption. Perhaps there’s a chance they can find it in each other.
This is how Wesley justifies what happens next. A kind of redemption, an affinity, two souls coming together, however briefly. Really, he knows none of this is true, or at least not in the way he wants it to be.
But Faith’s giving him that killer sultry smile/smouldering eyes combination that makes his heart flutter and desire curl in his stomach. So when she casually invites herself to his flat, he agrees.
* * *
Yes. Good. His apartment. Wesley goes to get tea, or wine, or whatever because it doesn’t matter because she’s here. Faith grins to herself, breathing slowly because her heart is pumping so fast, too fast. She needs him. She doesn’t know why. But ever since they teamed up to take down the villain she hasn’t been able to get him out of her skull. And boy, did she try. Jumped on the first guy she saw, actually tried to create a relationship, but who was she kidding. He was just a convenience, nice as he was. This was what she really needed. This was why she ditched the Slayer Squad. This - the excitement coursing through her, the familiar scents in the apartment, Wesley coming back into the room with that look in eyes that assures her he isn’t gonna play nice.
“So.”
“Yeah.”
Then suddenly he’s pressed against her in a rush of passion, lips crushed on hers, clinging her to him like he needs her to feel real. And of course she kisses back, gasping as he almost throws her against the wall. Hands fumbling, shirt off, bra off, more hands, pants off. God yes. Then there’s just Wesley (Wesley!) and her, and the need they’ve repressed for so long. Somehow they’re on the floor, and Wesley’s darker than she ever expected, more vicious and yet more tender too. Oh yes. Yes yes.
Then it’s done. Time has no meaning. Faith doesn’t know if they’ve been here a minute or an hour.
“Woah.” Her breath comes ragged, hot, and he chuckles against her cheek.
“Quite.”
She turns her head to look into his eyes and grins wide. “Again?”
“Of course.”
* * *
Again and again until they’re spent. Wesley lies there, Faith next to him but staring at the ceiling. When he glances at her he can’t decipher the expression on her face. That girl will always be a mystery to him. Though he suspects he knows her better than anyone, except maybe one other.
So here they lie, silent, unmoving. There’s no banter, no street girl chatter from Faith, no sensitive murmurs from him. It’s like they’re not here, like it never happened. He keeps expecting her to leave, fob him off with some power girl line (that was great, I gotta shower). Keeps expecting her to say something, do something. Be Faith-the-Vampire-Slayer again. But she just breathes softly. Did he do something wrong? Was this all very, very wrong?
“Chill, Wes.” Her whisper jolts him out of his tumultuous thoughts. “I can feel you all tense and British. It was good. Like, way good. Out of this world good.”
Wesley grins, the tension slipping away. “Five by five, even?”
“Dude.” Faith flips herself so she’s leaning on her hand, grinning at him. “That was ten by ten.”
“Radical.”
Suddenly she laughs, the burst of merriment ricocheting around the flat. “Man, no way can you pull that off!”
Still giggling, she slips out of bed, hunting around for her clothes. Wesley watches her dress, unashamed now to admire her body as she weaves lithely around the furniture.
“So... will you be heading back to Sunnydale soon?” Wesley’s question is casual, but there’s meaning behind the words.
“Gotta,” Faith calls back, not looking around. “Chief Giles has got some big plan to unite the slayers. Create an army or whatever. I can only skip out on my big sister duties for so long. Mind you, after a coupla weeks with those whiny kids I was beggin’ for jail.”
Wesley looks down at the duvet as she talks, a slight frown on his face. Of course. He was stupid to think...
“Naturally. I mean about you being part of the plan of course. It’s right for you to take your place among your kin.”
Faith turns now to give him an odd look. “Uh... sure. Anyhows, I wanna be outta the city before daylight, so...”
“So this is goodbye.”
Faith shrugs. There’s a silence that spreads until Wesley’s ears are ringing with it.
“Well, good luck,” he says, attempting breezy.
“Yeah. Oh you too. With the whole evil corporation thing. Got a good feelin’ bout that.” She winks, and there’s that rush again. Only this time it’s empty. Doesn’t mean anything.
“Yes. Well. Do you want me to walk you to...?” He half gets out of bed.
“Nah, it’s cool. I’m gettin’ the bus and I remember the way from... the first time I was here.” There’s a dark look that fleets across her face, but it’s gone before Wesley can analyse it. “I’d better scatter anyway, so...”
Another silence, but this one is briefer. Faith, now clothed, breaks it by dashing suddenly to the bed, kissing Wesley gently, her hand soothing against one cheek.
“Bye, Wes,” she breathes.
Before he knows it, she’s gone, the door slamming.
“Bye.”
* * *
Stupid. Stupid to feel, stupid to fall. He’s just Wesley. Good old stuffy Wesley, who shrieks when anyone so much as picks up a sword near him. But no. Not any more. That guy back there, he’s not the man she met four years ago. Something’s changed, he’s more... like her. That frightens her a bit. And she was stupid to think he’d say something, ask her to stay just a little longer. To be with him again.
But no. Doesn’t matter. Just get on the bus, don’t let yourself think about it. Think about the way he touched you, held you, whispered your name while he...
NO.
After all, it was just an itch. And now it’s scratched. No need to go down that road again. So just sit here on the bus, focusing on the days ahead, what’s left of destiny. Because those feelings, that moment, it was just a lie. All a lie.
.