You Know I'm No Good: Buffy the Vampire Slayer Fic
Five bottles of champagne, eight hours of dancing, at five in the morning and Gigi was still bright-eyed and rosy-cheeked.
When we got back to her room, I peeled off the black pleather sheath I’d been wearing. It was dead sexy but not what you’d call comfortable. Free at last, I sprawled out on the black satin coverlet of Gigi’s bed (queen sized of course, bigger than my last apartment).
Giving me a coy look, she shimmied out of her wine-colored velvet dress and bra and then sat down at her vanity in nothing but her crimson dancing shoes and matching panties and started taking off her make-up. She was so adorable, like a little kid playing Edie Sedgwick. She was sugar and spice, equal parts sass and decay. I couldn’t seem to figure out who she really was, deep down.
I guess it was only fair that she keep me guessing, considering what I was keeping from her. Who I really was and why I’d shown up at her fairy princess palace.
Gigi pulled on her little white nightie, all frilly lace and so short that it scarcely covered her thighs. She stepped out of her panties, leaving them in a little red heap on the floor, and flopped down next to me on the bed so that we were face to face, close enough to kiss.
“I can’t remember when I’ve had more fun,” she said. “It’s such a treat to have someone who can keep up with me. Since I became a slayer I tend to wear my mates out.”
“Tell me about it,” I sighed, stretching out lazily. I tried to kick off my stiletto heels but they wouldn’t kick. Gigi lent me a foot, helping me to nudge them off. She left her ankle lying across mine. “I don’t even know why I bother screwing normal guys anymore. Even the best of them are only good for a few rounds when I’m looking to go all night. Plus, you can never really cut lose, you know. Part of you always has to remember that even the biggest guy is going to snap like a twig if you go full force.”
At that, Miss Genevieve Savidge, would-be Slayer queen, murderess and all around badass, blushed pink as a motherfucking tea rose.
“I’m afraid I don’t know anything about that.” She admitted.
“You mean you haven’t had a sweetie since you went Slayer? What about you and Roden the Red?”
“Please. World domination may make for strange bed-fellows but not quite that strange. Do give me a bit of credit.”
“Okay, okay, I should have known better but how long has it been?”
“Oh, I’d say about nineteen years…”
“No way. No fucking way! You’re a virgin? The way you dress?”
Gigi scowled and pursed her lips into a surly little pout.
“I enjoy looking sexy. I just happen to be very particular about who I actually allow to get into my knickers.” She sniffed. I was cracking up.
“Unbelievable. Damn. I think I was about eleven when I lost it.”
“Seriously, Hope. I’ve had other things on my mind, and you know I’ve got to be careful about who I let get close to me.”
“Come on, if anyone can protect themselves, you can.”
“I don’t mean like that,” she mumbled, turning away. I knew I ought to back off but I’ve never been too good at stopping once I get started.
“Oh Lady Genevieve, I had no idea you were such delicate flower. A fair blossom that would wither at the touch of those brutish oafs with their unseemly hard-on’s…”
“So, what was it like for you?” She demanded. “Was it so wonderful?”
It wasn’t something that I’d thought about in a long time.
And no, it hadn’t exactly been wonderful. I mean, I was just a little kid. I really didn’t have any idea what I was doing, just that it was something I wasn’t supposed to be doing. That seemed like reason enough to try it. The guy was a friend, as clueless and curious as I was. I’m still not sure how we actually managed to do it.
It wasn’t traumatic or anything. It wasn’t even all that bad, for a couple of beginners.
The bad came after. Neither of us exactly kept it a secret. To be honest, I was kind of proud of myself, but that didn’t last long. In a few days, everybody knew that I was a cheap little slut.
Everybody hates a slut and everybody wants to fuck her.
That was before I was a Slayer. It wasn’t pretty.
“Actually, it kind of sucked.” I said. Gigi must have seen it in my face that it more than sucked, that it hurt, still. “You’re the smart one, waiting for somebody you can trust.”
She didn’t talk, she just put her arms around my neck and I thought for about the millionth time this girl doesn’t have to die. This girl can be salvaged.
“Hope,” she said lying back, pulling me down on top of her. I was in just my underwear and her nightie was nothing. I could feel every inch of her against me and it was sort of intense. “Hope.”
“For what?” I asked. It was a slip, an error on my part, the kind that could get me killed. Luckily, Gigi didn’t notice because she was kissing me.
God, she was hot. We rolled around on her black satin bedspread but I always ended up on top, my favorite place. She was laughing, and her legs parted underneath me, wrapping tight around my hips. And it was hot, passion, sex, lust but it was something else too. It was as much need as it was want. All those cigarettes, all that champagne and Gigi still tasted like fresh, cool water when you’re sweaty and thirsty and dying for drink.
Kissing Gigi, I felt something. That thing I hadn’t really thought was possible till the time that Riley Finn had made love to his girlfriend not knowing that I was borrowing her body. That thing that flickered between Robin and I, flicked and then died. That thing where you know that it’s more than a game, more than just another fuck…
“Gigi, you don’t want to do this.” I said, pulling away from her.
“About now, I can’t think of anything else I’d rather do.” She laughed.
“I’m serious. I’m not the one you’ve been waiting for, believe me. I’m more of a dick than any guy could be. I’m kind of a rotten person, okay?”
“Tell me something I don’t all ready know,” she said. “I know just what you’re like. Good and bad.”
“Then you should know I’m not somebody you want to get close to.”
“You don’t get it, Hope,” she purred undeterred by my half-assed warnings. She drew me close, her eyes glittering, telling me I wasn’t getting off so easy. “It’s not a matter of letting you in,” she whispered. “You’re already there.”
I gave in, because I didn’t want to fight it. I wanted that thing I’d heard about and felt fly by, love or maybe just the illusion of it. I wanted to hold it close, savor it, turn it over on my tongue, really know how it tasted, even if it was pretty much guaranteed to turn sour.
Gigi.
Spoiled little psycho wanna-be queen. Murderous little bitch. Treacle sweet.
She couldn’t say I didn’t try to warn her.
That I was lying from the start, that I was rotten to the heart.
That I was bad for her.