5 Things Faith.....
Title: Five Things Faith Never Said (But Should Have)
Pairings: Faith/Xander, Faith/Buffy, Faith/Angel, Faith/Wes, Faith/Wood
Rating: R
Word Count: 1936
Disclaimer: I own nothing, please don't sue me.
He's a virgin, but he's surprising not bad. Not that Faith cares, it's so easy for her to get off now she could fuck every virgin on the block and still get off twice as many times as they did. It's not the sex that has her so anchored in Xander's arms afterwards though, it's the split second. It's like a spark around the corners of her vision before it fizzles into black nothingness again.
He's not like the rest of them. Granted, it's Buffy's pants she's been trying to claw her way into but there's something about Xander. He's kind of ordinary which makes him stand apart from the stuck up superheroes he runs with. There's something there, trapped in between Buffy and Willow's disapproving looks and Cordelia's quick witted snipes. They're not all that different, the two of them. Xander might be in the infamous Scooby Gang but he's definitely the Scooby Gang's bitch. Faith can relate, she knows what Buffy wants from her and she's not giving it up.
It almost makes her think there's a something more at stake, which is retarded really because Faith doesn't make something mores. She makes something easys and something fast and hards. Damn spark.
There's the same disappointing fizzle sending static into her afterglow and in moments she's on her feet tossing his clothes at him. She only spares him a quick glance to see that somehow amidst his awe and confusion, she's added in a dull hurt look. He's hurt? She almost warms to that feeling, that tiny hint of power she has over him now. Opening the door she nods towards it, reliving the same movements she's mastered in only a few years. Nail and bail.
Stay with me.
"That was great. I gotta shower."
And before she can blink he's already out the door just like all of the others before him. Sparks never really last.
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
"How are you going to fit all of this stuff?"
"Not gonna. It's yours."
Standing across from eachother they're more enemies now then they've ever been before. She's not entirely aware of everything in this place but she knows one thing for sure. It doesn't matter how many people come and go or how long she'll even live because deep down in the core of Faith exists something for only Buffy. The two of them will go on until the end of eternity, long after their bodies are laid to rest. It's the thought that nearly bowls Faith over in the white flash before Buffy's arrival.
She knows what's next, she understands the pretty killer living inside of the good slayer, she feels it. Buffy's going to kill Wilkins and there's nothing Faith can do about it. In the outside world, the strings pushing and pulling them make that matter somehow more. Here it's only the two of them and nothing else.
There's a tremble that starts at the base of her spine and works it's way up. They're more enemies than allies and more lovers than fighters, than killers. There's no walls in the quiet prison that surrounds Faith but somehow Buffy sneaks her way in like a spy. They'll never be free of eachother, not completely.
They are epic in a way that has never been before, in a way that Angel can't even touch. So much love wrapped up in fists and blood and hate and death and all of the things they've spent so long running away from. It's a bad reminder of what makes both of them shine in a sea of endless faces.
"I can't use all of this!"
Stay with me.
"Just take what you need."
She swallows hard reaching out with one hand to touch Buffy's face.
"You ready?"
In a flash she's gone and Faith's alone again. It doesn't matter how badly she wants it, she can't have it. Reprieves from hell are brief and she has personal demons to work through. She's sure that at least one of them will be wearing Buffy's face. She can't wait to slice her knife into that one.
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
"Food getting any better?"
"You know, it's not that different from what I grew up on. It's a little one note. Eating the same thing every day."
"I wonder what that's like."
She smiles despite herself and it's the first time anything but a scowl has touched her face. Sometimes she tries to tell herself that she puts on a brave face to impress Angel every time he comes to visit but the truth is she lights up when he's here. He's proof that something exists for her beyond the bars and the barbed wire surrounding the prison yard.
Prison's not easy on a girl, even if said girl has slayer strength and speed. Being a slayer doesn't really prepare anyone for all of the other shit that builds up when you trap a ton of lowlifes in cages together. She's tough but prison wears a girl down, and just when she thinks she's had enough she remembers that Angel is coming to visit again and she pushes through the day to get closer to him.
She thinks it's funny that the only thing anchoring her in this world is a vampire. How completely fucking Buffy.
There's just something in the darkness of his eyes on the other side of the fingerprint stained glass. There's something rooted there that she can't look away from, just when she thinks it might just be regret she wonders if there isn't a spark of something more. Misery loves company and she's never met anyone as miserable as Angel.
Stay with me.
The guard motions towards her and she casts a disappointed look in Angel's direction. Reprieves from hell are brief and she has personal demons to work through. Solitude is something she knows he can appreciate and so she stands back up, denies herself the impulse to smash the glass and demand that he take her with him.
She casts one last look in his direction before disappearing behind the door. He'll be back next week like clockwork and she knows that when she finally gets out on parole he'll be waiting on the other side for her. After all, it's not like he's getting any older.
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
"You were nearly killed."
"I could use a shower."
It's not the only thing she could use. The unspoken words between them as he'd gripped her shouldres lightly, the ice pack held gingerly to her bruised face. She can see the irony in this whole situation, how he was trying to take care of her years after she'd tied him to a chair and tortured him nearly to death. If she looks hard enough she can still see the scars. Can still see where she's marked him as her own, her territory. An irrational flare of jealousy at the new bigger, bolder scar running jagged across his throat. Someone else had been there too, someone else who was going to hold Wesley's rapt attention every morning when he looked into the mirror.
Still, she doesn't think Wesley could forget about her if he tried to. They've left their marks on eachother and not just physically. They can both feel it, the distance. Not the distance between them but the seperation between them and the rest of the world. They are alone together, always. The bad children to the superheroes that surround them, the disappointments.
Every bone, every muscle aches with every breath that she takes and it's not just the beating she's taken from the Beast getting so under her skin. It's days spent tracking Angel, her fucking hero that crawls underneath her skin and nests there. She knows the chips are down when Angel's only hope comes from her and Wesley. The disappointments. She can't help but think they were all completely fucked.
"Of course."
She stands up and slowly walks towards the open bathroom door he's just gestured to. So slowly that she wanders if this isn't some sick victory for Wesley. She's not sure what to do with the concern that she reads from his pale eyes. They used to burn her, accuse her silently, make her feel like she was underneath a microscope with every single flaw on full display. Wesley's eyes aren't hard the way she remembers them being, they're hard in a different way. He's always seemed so simple to her that it marvels her to find a complex puzzle she's scrambling to put together.
"Faith, are you sure you're okay?"
"A little sticky."
Stay with me.
Once she's stripped all of her clothes off painfully and her fist meets the tile and her hollow screams echo off of the bathroom walls she wonders if Wes is thinking the same thing she is.
She never got to hear him scream.
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
"It's not bad. You just sit here. I'll get someone to-"
"Hey... did we- did we make it?"
"We made it. We won."
If Faith looks out the back window of the bus she can see exactly what she's left behind. Something about the collapse of Sunnydale was a strange feeling for her. There was the usual high that accompanied every winning fight but it was twisted, warped this time. Usually the buzz was so loud it drowned out the sound of her own voice but now she could clearly hear it. Instead of the usual ragged endless energy a calm feeling invades her.
Her calm quickly dissolves into slight panic when Robin suddenly quiets down and stops breathing. Her own breathing stops, catches in her throat as she looks at him for a minute, waiting for him to come alive again. She's not sure what this is or what it could be but suddenly she wants to find out very badly. She hasn't forgotten about his promise of round two after they successfully averted the apocalypse.
Swallowing over the lump in her throat she knows there's going to be no surprises and it's just more solid proof that nothing ever lasts and in the end she'll find herself alone again always.
Stay with me.
Slowly she reaches out a hand to close his eyelids and just as she does he begins coughing and sputtering almost as if he had somehow heard her words.
"Surprise."
Once the moment of shock subsides she sighs and lets a relieved grin escape. He had promised her a surprise after all and she likes him more and more despite herself. It's not just relief flooding through her, there's a spark there, she can feel it. He's not going anywhere.
She's not sure if he was just being a jerk or if he somehow had heard her words. Maybe it was a combination of the both but next time? She's going to say them outloud.
Just to be sure.
Pairings: Faith/Xander, Faith/Buffy, Faith/Angel, Faith/Wes, Faith/Wood
Rating: R
Word Count: 1936
Disclaimer: I own nothing, please don't sue me.
He's a virgin, but he's surprising not bad. Not that Faith cares, it's so easy for her to get off now she could fuck every virgin on the block and still get off twice as many times as they did. It's not the sex that has her so anchored in Xander's arms afterwards though, it's the split second. It's like a spark around the corners of her vision before it fizzles into black nothingness again.
He's not like the rest of them. Granted, it's Buffy's pants she's been trying to claw her way into but there's something about Xander. He's kind of ordinary which makes him stand apart from the stuck up superheroes he runs with. There's something there, trapped in between Buffy and Willow's disapproving looks and Cordelia's quick witted snipes. They're not all that different, the two of them. Xander might be in the infamous Scooby Gang but he's definitely the Scooby Gang's bitch. Faith can relate, she knows what Buffy wants from her and she's not giving it up.
It almost makes her think there's a something more at stake, which is retarded really because Faith doesn't make something mores. She makes something easys and something fast and hards. Damn spark.
There's the same disappointing fizzle sending static into her afterglow and in moments she's on her feet tossing his clothes at him. She only spares him a quick glance to see that somehow amidst his awe and confusion, she's added in a dull hurt look. He's hurt? She almost warms to that feeling, that tiny hint of power she has over him now. Opening the door she nods towards it, reliving the same movements she's mastered in only a few years. Nail and bail.
Stay with me.
"That was great. I gotta shower."
And before she can blink he's already out the door just like all of the others before him. Sparks never really last.
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
"How are you going to fit all of this stuff?"
"Not gonna. It's yours."
Standing across from eachother they're more enemies now then they've ever been before. She's not entirely aware of everything in this place but she knows one thing for sure. It doesn't matter how many people come and go or how long she'll even live because deep down in the core of Faith exists something for only Buffy. The two of them will go on until the end of eternity, long after their bodies are laid to rest. It's the thought that nearly bowls Faith over in the white flash before Buffy's arrival.
She knows what's next, she understands the pretty killer living inside of the good slayer, she feels it. Buffy's going to kill Wilkins and there's nothing Faith can do about it. In the outside world, the strings pushing and pulling them make that matter somehow more. Here it's only the two of them and nothing else.
There's a tremble that starts at the base of her spine and works it's way up. They're more enemies than allies and more lovers than fighters, than killers. There's no walls in the quiet prison that surrounds Faith but somehow Buffy sneaks her way in like a spy. They'll never be free of eachother, not completely.
They are epic in a way that has never been before, in a way that Angel can't even touch. So much love wrapped up in fists and blood and hate and death and all of the things they've spent so long running away from. It's a bad reminder of what makes both of them shine in a sea of endless faces.
"I can't use all of this!"
Stay with me.
"Just take what you need."
She swallows hard reaching out with one hand to touch Buffy's face.
"You ready?"
In a flash she's gone and Faith's alone again. It doesn't matter how badly she wants it, she can't have it. Reprieves from hell are brief and she has personal demons to work through. She's sure that at least one of them will be wearing Buffy's face. She can't wait to slice her knife into that one.
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
"Food getting any better?"
"You know, it's not that different from what I grew up on. It's a little one note. Eating the same thing every day."
"I wonder what that's like."
She smiles despite herself and it's the first time anything but a scowl has touched her face. Sometimes she tries to tell herself that she puts on a brave face to impress Angel every time he comes to visit but the truth is she lights up when he's here. He's proof that something exists for her beyond the bars and the barbed wire surrounding the prison yard.
Prison's not easy on a girl, even if said girl has slayer strength and speed. Being a slayer doesn't really prepare anyone for all of the other shit that builds up when you trap a ton of lowlifes in cages together. She's tough but prison wears a girl down, and just when she thinks she's had enough she remembers that Angel is coming to visit again and she pushes through the day to get closer to him.
She thinks it's funny that the only thing anchoring her in this world is a vampire. How completely fucking Buffy.
There's just something in the darkness of his eyes on the other side of the fingerprint stained glass. There's something rooted there that she can't look away from, just when she thinks it might just be regret she wonders if there isn't a spark of something more. Misery loves company and she's never met anyone as miserable as Angel.
Stay with me.
The guard motions towards her and she casts a disappointed look in Angel's direction. Reprieves from hell are brief and she has personal demons to work through. Solitude is something she knows he can appreciate and so she stands back up, denies herself the impulse to smash the glass and demand that he take her with him.
She casts one last look in his direction before disappearing behind the door. He'll be back next week like clockwork and she knows that when she finally gets out on parole he'll be waiting on the other side for her. After all, it's not like he's getting any older.
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
"You were nearly killed."
"I could use a shower."
It's not the only thing she could use. The unspoken words between them as he'd gripped her shouldres lightly, the ice pack held gingerly to her bruised face. She can see the irony in this whole situation, how he was trying to take care of her years after she'd tied him to a chair and tortured him nearly to death. If she looks hard enough she can still see the scars. Can still see where she's marked him as her own, her territory. An irrational flare of jealousy at the new bigger, bolder scar running jagged across his throat. Someone else had been there too, someone else who was going to hold Wesley's rapt attention every morning when he looked into the mirror.
Still, she doesn't think Wesley could forget about her if he tried to. They've left their marks on eachother and not just physically. They can both feel it, the distance. Not the distance between them but the seperation between them and the rest of the world. They are alone together, always. The bad children to the superheroes that surround them, the disappointments.
Every bone, every muscle aches with every breath that she takes and it's not just the beating she's taken from the Beast getting so under her skin. It's days spent tracking Angel, her fucking hero that crawls underneath her skin and nests there. She knows the chips are down when Angel's only hope comes from her and Wesley. The disappointments. She can't help but think they were all completely fucked.
"Of course."
She stands up and slowly walks towards the open bathroom door he's just gestured to. So slowly that she wanders if this isn't some sick victory for Wesley. She's not sure what to do with the concern that she reads from his pale eyes. They used to burn her, accuse her silently, make her feel like she was underneath a microscope with every single flaw on full display. Wesley's eyes aren't hard the way she remembers them being, they're hard in a different way. He's always seemed so simple to her that it marvels her to find a complex puzzle she's scrambling to put together.
"Faith, are you sure you're okay?"
"A little sticky."
Stay with me.
Once she's stripped all of her clothes off painfully and her fist meets the tile and her hollow screams echo off of the bathroom walls she wonders if Wes is thinking the same thing she is.
She never got to hear him scream.
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
"It's not bad. You just sit here. I'll get someone to-"
"Hey... did we- did we make it?"
"We made it. We won."
If Faith looks out the back window of the bus she can see exactly what she's left behind. Something about the collapse of Sunnydale was a strange feeling for her. There was the usual high that accompanied every winning fight but it was twisted, warped this time. Usually the buzz was so loud it drowned out the sound of her own voice but now she could clearly hear it. Instead of the usual ragged endless energy a calm feeling invades her.
Her calm quickly dissolves into slight panic when Robin suddenly quiets down and stops breathing. Her own breathing stops, catches in her throat as she looks at him for a minute, waiting for him to come alive again. She's not sure what this is or what it could be but suddenly she wants to find out very badly. She hasn't forgotten about his promise of round two after they successfully averted the apocalypse.
Swallowing over the lump in her throat she knows there's going to be no surprises and it's just more solid proof that nothing ever lasts and in the end she'll find herself alone again always.
Stay with me.
Slowly she reaches out a hand to close his eyelids and just as she does he begins coughing and sputtering almost as if he had somehow heard her words.
"Surprise."
Once the moment of shock subsides she sighs and lets a relieved grin escape. He had promised her a surprise after all and she likes him more and more despite herself. It's not just relief flooding through her, there's a spark there, she can feel it. He's not going anywhere.
She's not sure if he was just being a jerk or if he somehow had heard her words. Maybe it was a combination of the both but next time? She's going to say them outloud.
Just to be sure.