Lights Out (A Faith/Buffy fic)
Rating: R/NC:17 for sexual content
Author: laurencedominic
Pairing: Faith/Buffy
Fandom: BTVS/ATS
Summary: Faith and Buffy connect through their dreams for a heavy encounter during Faith's time in prison.
Words: 2,500+.
Disclaimers: The characters don't belong to me, the idea does.
"Lights out!"
There were the words again. The same damn ones she'd heard every night for the past year. She used to be a creature of the night, not like in a neck sucking way, but in her own way. She used to follow nobody’s rules except her own. Look where that’d gotten her. Now she had to go to sleep when they told her to, because she'd also have to wake up when they told her to. Such a rip-off, this daylight thing. Faith didn't fight it anymore. Didn't have a reason to. She lay in her prison bunk, eyes closed. Sleep wasn't so bad. There was always the chance she'd see her again. Other than redemption, that was what she lived for now. Those rare moments during which they might have been thinking about each other at the same time as they fell asleep. One side pushed, one side pulled, and they connected in the middle. That was the only remaining light that came with 'lights out'. You just close your eyes, and you hope. And sometimes that hope is rewarded.
"What do you want?" said the impatient and tired voice. Faith opened her eyes quickly. She was still in the dark, but her surroundings had changed. Faith knew this bedroom and it sure wasn't a prison. Damn, that was pretty lame, she realized. It was the only place she felt truly free any more. ‘Course B would great her like that. How could she not? Always acting like it was some damn big surprise, like she hadn’t brought it on herself. Faith shrugged, turning towards the other slayer, her feet not making a sound as she walked toward the bed.
"Wouldn't be here if you weren't thinkin' about me. Maybe the better question is what do you want, B?" Faith moved closer still. For some reason, they didn't fight so much in the dreams. Not physically, anyways. Another rip-off. Sometimes she coulda used a good throw-down, since she couldn’t go all Fight Club on the girls in the yard, even when they were asking for it. Seemed like in times past, some of the dreams had been nightmares, if she remembered them properly. The mind played tricks on you in the hole. She had been chased, stabbed, crawled her way out of a grave Buffy had put her in. But those had been the expressions of a confused and lost mind, least, that was how the prison shrink had put it. Didn’t know how he’d even got her to open up about that one. The supernatural parts, he sorta assumed that was artistic expression. Whatever. Didn’t matter. He said she had troubled mind. No joke, pal. Murder’ll do that to ya. What she’d had was a mind that was worried that the blonde might decide to finish the job she had started. Faith didn't fear that any more. In some sick way, B might actually have been kinda proud.
She watched as the small lump in Buffy's throat shifted slightly while she tried to find her answers. Might’ve been watching her neck a little too closely, but Buffy could only get into her head so far. She couldn’t figure out that much. Finally, Buffy turned her head, actually looking at Faith directly when she spoke. "I don't know. I ask myself that every time you show up. I just can't seem to find any answers." Honesty. Good for you, blondie. Faith really couldn't ask for anything more. Didn't seem fair to make Buffy continue to look up at her, so she lowered herself onto the bed, lying on top of the sheets. A few hundred miles separated them in the real world. Here, it was only a matter of fabric.
"Maybe... that's cause you're askin' the wrong questions," Faith said in a low, flirtatious tone. The thin sheets were poorly equipped to contain the emotional and physical heat that passed between the chosen two. Still a great nickname, just FYI, even if Buffy wasn’t buying into it so much right now. "Maybe a better question would be 'how long can ya stay?', because I know it ain't that long. Just... quit wastin' it, all right?"
Faith saw it forming, the word of protest, the instruction to stop or to wait or to do something else that she truly didn't want to do. Not when there were so many better things they could be doing. She didn't wait. Faith wasn't the patient kind. She didn't know when they'd next be together. B usually tried to block thoughts of Faith from her mind after these heavy, hurried encounters. Didn’t like shouldering the fact her unconscious mind was screwing around on Captain Cardboard, Faith figured. Afterward, the harder Faith tried to make a connection, the further away she drifted. Well, they were here now. Make the most of it. She closed the distance between them in a quick, fluid movement, pressing her lips roughly to Buffy’s. What, like they were waiting on the slow, romantic music to start playing? Nah. Wasn’t like that. There was a brief moment of hesitation, but Buffy didn't pull away. It took less than a second for her to surrender. That was the thing about dreams. You could act on the things you were afraid of.
B’s parted, prompting Faith to take full advantage. Atta girl. She slipped her tongue past Buffy's lips and the two embraced hotly, yet somehow tenderly, at least on Buffy's end. Faith wasn’t picky about how it went down, so long as it did. She let out a low groan as Faith took a handful of her hair, pulling it a little more roughly than necessary in order to tilt back her head, allowing her lips to wander teasingly across Buffy's throat. She knew how sensitive the area was. Especially for Buffy. In fact, maybe it was true for all slayers. When you spent every night fighting monsters that would rip open the skin of your neck and drink your very life force until you were dead, you gave in to a certain level of primal trust when allowing that area to be touched so... intimately. God, that word sucked, but it was sorta fitting, too. Eyes on the road, tiger. Faith sucked on the soft triangle of flesh that lay just above the center of the collarbone, her tongue lightly nipping at the area at infrequent intervals.
A pair of hands stalled Faith as they her, pushing her onto her back almost violently. Not fazed in the least, Faith smirked up at her attacker. ‘Bout time B grew a pair. "You don't like it, or you mad because you do? I won't tell. Not got no-one to tell it to." She almost purred the words in her alluringly raspy tone. Buffy gripped her shoulders more tightly, as if pinning her there would make a difference. As if she didn't enjoy every minute of it, lying here, Buffy straddling her with her hands dangerously close to Faith's throat.
"Shut up!" answered irritated whisper. Faith could only smirk in delight. Buffy’s grip loosened though. They were close enough to feel one another's heartbeats, pounding against each other like a couple of war drums, almost in rhythm, but not quite. One would always be rushing to keep up with the other.
"Nuh uh. Kiss me, or kill me."
The anger of denial flared in Buffy's green eyes for a moment before she made her choice. As if there had ever been one to make. She kissed her so hard that Faith was sure she had bust her lip. Didn't matter. She got off on it, that thin line between sex and violence. Faith threw the sheet aside, giving Buffy nothing more to hide behind. Still clothed in thin pajama pants, their hips moved in unison as Faith raked her teeth over Buffy's bottom lip. She was already tired of the sensation of cotton.
She slipped her hands under Buffy's shirt, running them over the soft, smooth skin that lay beneath before grabbing the hem of said item of clothing and peeling it off. This hadn't been the first time, but the naked form of Buffy Summers filled her with fire every time. Returning the favor, Faith pushed the slayer onto her back by her shoulders, kissing the area around Buffy's nipple hurriedly before rolling her tongue around it. She felt B arch her hips into Faith's in anticipation, and it only made her go harder and faster. Buffy pressed a hand to the back of Faith's neck, her manicured nails scratching down it gently, until she found the collar of her shirt. She used her other hand in the same manner, pulling it over Faith's head and tousling the brunette's hair even further.
Couldn't all be one way, after all.
Faith smirked, the heat and smoothness of their upper bodies pressed together as skin met skin. Continuing to take charge, she laid a trail of kisses down B’s stomach, running her tongue over the area of pelvic bone that her pajama pants were low enough to reveal. Buffy Summers, goddamn tease. She pulled them off before Buffy could even fathom the thought of protesting. She'd wasted enough time. No more. Her tongue trailed hotly over Buffy's inner thigh. Faith felt and heard the sharpness of her breath increase. Like she was ashamed to love it. She could deny it all she wanted during the daylight hours, but after the lights went out, she wanted this. It was all fine, provided they could hide in the dark.
Without warning, she moved her tongue suddenly to the other girl's clit, somehow managing to alternate infuriatingly between fast and slow movements, but all of them were deep, all of them rough. Faith's strong hands gripped Buffy's waist, and though the slayer could match her strength for strength, she didn't fight back. Faith continued the same rhythmic and borderline rough movements, fingernails digging into the blonde's thighs as her subject came closer to climax. She felt her trying to keep it in, postpone it so that the dark slayer would keep going. Or maybe she was just still holding onto that hesitation, that thing that kept Buffy from fully giving herself over. Either way, it seemed inevitable that Faith would win. If you called this winning.
She revelled in the feeling as Buffy moaned more sharply, almost animalistically, as if she was angry at herself for submitting. It didn't always end this way. Sometimes they just talked. Sometimes they just made out. Sometimes they even stayed in that argument stage. Emotions were a volatile thing, especially for the two of them. But these were the encounters Faith enjoyed the most. The encounters during which they could expel their tension. Faith lifted her head, making her way back up Buffy’s body with a trail of sensual kisses and slight flicks of her tongue. As Buffy caught her breath, she lifted her head to bring her lips to Faith’s jaw, kissing along that and then moving on to her neck. Faith allowed it for a while, revelling in the sensation of the moist warmth against her collarbone. But she allowed the slayer barely any time to recover. Removing what remained of her own clothing, she gripped Buffy by the legs, wrapping them around her waist as she pushed her back down into the mattress. “That was just the opener,” she whispered knowingly, her hot breath causing a tingle to run down B’s spine.
Faith saw she caught a hint of a smirk as Buffy pushed Faith’s hair behind her shoulder, flicking her tongue against the brunette’s ear before sucking it teasingly. “Beats fighting,” Buffy whispered back, meeting Faith half way as she scraped her teeth gently against her partner’s ear lobe.
“Just,” Faith retorted, “but I could go for a little of both.” Patience lost on her, she gripped B tightly by the waist, pressing their naked bodies together and writhing into her hard. Years of frustration was taken out on both their bodies as Faith continued to roughly grind her hips into Buffy’s, fingernails clawing at her back as they came closer and closer to their combined ecstasy. Low groans escaped from Faith’s lips as she clung to Buffy, her heartbeat pounding faster and faster as the heat between her legs rose. Heightened by the slayer bond between them, finally the pleasure spilled over and in unison the pair collapsed together, relishing the coolness of the breeze through the slightly open window on their hot skin. Abolishing human contact for the moment, Faith rolled onto her back, lying at Buffy’s side.
“Mmm. Thanks for the cell block tango, B.” Her eyes closed and she stretched slightly. Somehow, she felt those green eyes on her. A different kind of tension had reared its head, alingering awkwardness that came after the tussle. “I know you’re doin’ that. What is it?” Faith asked, opening her eyes slightly and catching the creepy staring in the act. Buffy shook her head, rolling onto her back once more, her eyes fixed on the ceiling.
“It’s nothing. I just wonder sometimes.” Being mysterious and vague was Faith’s territory. She wasn’t about to let B with it.
“Wonder what?”
Silence passed between them for a few long moments until Buffy finally breathed out a small sigh, meeting the russet brown eyes of her companion.
“Whether you’re sorry. Whether the things you did were fuelled by some...unrequited passion. I don’t know.” Buffy said helplessly, an underlying irritation in her voice. ‘Course, she was opening the door to this shit. Faith sighed. She never had reacted so well to that kinda babble.
“You gettin’ all psycho-analysis on me, B? That’s what the prison shrink is for. My weekly murderer counsellin’”
Defensive. Always defensive. She couldn’t bear to say it - to tell Buffy that maybe she was right. That she had longed to belong, longed to be...loved, even. She wouldn’t give her the satisfaction. Fuck that. Satisfaction of a different kind she could offer up plenty. But not that kind. Buffy opened her mouth to argue, but she figured there probably wasn’t all that much time left. Sooner or later, the dawn would come.
“Forget it.” She said, not bitterly, not cruelly, but softly. She meant it. Buffy lifted her hand, running an index finger over Faith’s tattoo in a small gesture of comfort and understanding. She considered the topic closed, for now. “We can get into all that another time,” she added as she lay a soft kiss on Faith’s shoulder. “Come on. I know you hate it, but just lie with me until...” Her words trailed off, and Faith knew what she meant. She just didn’t want to say it. Lie with me until morning roll call. Until the cell door opened and she had to line up for the morning count. Lie with me until you wake up and slip back into a reality I can’t join you in.
“Okay. I guess.” Faith uttered with a sigh, letting her walls come down only for a moment and shuffling closer to the other slayer. Just as Buffy could let loose in the dreams in a physical sense, Faith could let her walls down. They could lie together, entwined in one another’s arms, and somehow it wasn’t as threatening.
I don’t hate it as much as you think, Faith thought, before gently drifting to her dream within a dream until nothing remained but ‘next time’. Always next time. Somehow that seemed like it could be enough for now.