It was a matter of time. She knew that. He’d given an order, and she knew she couldn’t disobey it. She also knew, at least as far as she could trust herself to know anything, that she’d decided not to try and change that truth.
They couldn’t leave the living room. They had to talk to each other, and it had to be “about things that mattered.”
She had to talk with Faith. Buffy Summers had to talk to Faith, and they had to talk about things that mattered.
What could possibly matter between them? What could she possibly say? There were too many things, and she couldn’t say any of them. Not to Faith.
Buffy looked at the other girl, standing uneasily across from her, and felt the pang of attraction that she knew had never been so strong just a few days ago. Now it ached delightfully. Faith was the epitome of her new attraction to girls. She was the reason, and in more ways than one.
What were they supposed to talk about? How could she talk to the girl who she was so primally attracted to, but she hated so deeply? How could she tell Faith she wanted her to suffer for all the things she’d ever done, but also tell her how badly she wanted to taste her?
Xander was going to be so disappointed when he came home. He’d find them hating each other just as much as ever.
It was just a matter of time before she’d let loose, and tell Faith what she really thought. It was just a matter of time before Faith broke down, and finally admitted to being exactly what Buffy thought she was.
She was a liar. She was a con artist, working her way into people’s lives, pretending to be trustworthy, pretending to be vulnerable. All until she inevitably screwed up, and decided to let someone else take the blame for her. Decided to screw over everyone else. Decided to screw Buffy, and screw her hard, pounding into her like a—
Buffy closed her eyes, and let herself be just a little annoyed with Xander for doing this to her. Then, at the thought that he’d done it to her, and that she couldn’t do anything about it, she shivered. He owned her. It made her ache.
If only Faith wasn’t part of it. If only it was just Xander. It would be so much better. She could just enjoy it all, and not have to worry.
Faith was staring at her. Her eyes, so deep and dark, stared at her. Her lips were so red, and Buffy couldn’t help but stare as a pink tongue darted out silently to moisten them. They parted, and Buffy held her breath in anticipation of hearing Faith’s voice.
“I’m sorry.”
“Save it,” Buffy snapped. “You don’t know how to be sorry. You just think you’re sorry because that’s what makes everyone nice to you. Just give Angel or Xander those big dark eyes and they’ll forgive you for everything you ever did to them. Did to me.”
She blinked as soon as she said it. The words had just come. They shocked her a little bit.
Faith swallowed, and nodded quietly. She lowered her eyes and sank onto the couch. Buffy made a conscious decision not to look at her. She didn’t want to see those eyes, wet and dark and far too deceiving.
“You’re sorry,” Buffy scoffed again. “What does that even mean, Faith? Sorry for what? Sorry you had to give yourself up?”
“I’m not sorry for that,” Faith said, sitting with her arms crossed and her legs together. Buffy let her eyes linger on Faith’s calves for a moment before forcing herself to look away.
“Of course not. How else were you going to convince Angel to choose you over me?”
“What?”
“You do it to Angel, you do it to Xander, you do it to everyone. If you’re so sorry, why do you keep doing it?”
“I—” Faith looked up at her. She lowered her eyes, and Buffy felt a little thrill of triumph at the guilt in them. A twisting feeling of sickness followed it. She ignored it. She wasn’t going to fall for Faith’s sad eyes, or that wet and quivering bottom lip that looked so juicy and…
She shook her head, and looked away. “That’s what I thought.”
Buffy slumped down at the other end of the couch, and put a cushion on her lap to hide some of her nudity. She glared at Faith for a while, and they were both silent throughout. Faith just stared at the floor, lost in her own thoughts.
She was probably trying to think of a way to get around this. Well this was one time that Faith wouldn’t be able to weasel her way out of the truth. She was stuck.
Faith spoke quietly, and her voice was almost pitiful in its lack of strength.
“I don’t mean to. I’m sorry.”
“Stop saying that. You’re not sorry.”
Faith looked up, and Buffy looked at her out of reflex. Their eyes locked. Faith’s eyes were wet, dark, and endlessly confusing. Her lips parted again.
“I’m sorry,” she repeated. She seemed a little surprised at her own words.
“You’re not.”
“I am,” Faith said, and there was a little tremor in her voice that might have been a smile. “I really am sorry. I’m sorry, Buffy.”
“You don’t know how to be sorry,” Buffy said again. “Just stop it.”
“I can’t,” Faith said, and now there was a smile in her eyes. “I… holy shit. I’m sorry. I really am. I-I’m sorry for everything. I know you’ll never—” She sniffed, and wiped her eyes with the back of her bare arm. “But it don’t matter. I’m actually sorry. Really sorry.”
She looked up at the ceiling, and smiled broadly, even as tears filled her eyes. “I’m sorry,” she whispered.
This was not how it was supposed to go. Faith was supposed to break down, Faith was supposed to admit how she was playing them all again. Faith was supposed to admit to being remorseless and ultimately manipulative. She was supposed to grin maniacally and spill her guts, not smile sadly and apologize.
She was sorry?
Was that supposed to make it better? So what if she was sorry? Sorry didn’t mean anything.
“You’re sorry?” Buffy spat, trying to fuel her righteous anger. “That’s it?”
Faith sniffed and looked at her once more. “It’s all I got.”
“You’re sorry?”
“Yeah,” she breathed. That tongue wet those lips, and Buffy was momentarily distracted. She blinked and regained her rhythm.
“Are you sorry you poisoned Angel?”
Faith was silent for half a second. She nodded slowly. For some reason, it made Buffy angrier. She got to her feet, and started to pace. The heels made her hips roll as she moved, and the air was cool against her nude body.
Her mind was boiling. She was raging at all the things Faith had ever done to her, all the evil things she’d said, done, and gotten out of. She poured over every betrayal. She let her anger build, desperate to hold onto it. If she lost it, it meant Faith would win. Buffy’s body wanted to lose it, but if she did, she’d make herself vulnerable to Faith all over again. She’d be setting herself up for another betrayal.
She’d hurt Xander this time. Maybe Anya too. Who knew what damage she’d cause before they finally realized the kind of person Faith really was?
Buffy stood over Faith, and glared down at her. She forced her eyes to stay on Faith’s, and not roam over the rest of her body. Faith stared up at her.
“Stand up.”
Faith stood tentatively. They were nearly nose-to-nose, although Faith was slightly taller. Their proximity made Buffy tingle, but she used it to feed her anger.
“Look me in the eyes,” Buffy ordered. Faith’s eyes were the trickiest part of her. She’d watch them, wary of those little hints that said there was something more going on there. She knew what to look for.
Buffy had been in that body once. That’s when she realized that Faith had that certain something in her eyes. She knew it because it had been missing whenever she looked in the mirror. She knew it because she’d seen it in her own eyes when Faith had been her.
It was that sparkle of deception, of lies and of madness. It was that sparkle of someone desperate and alone. Buffy knew how to watch those eyes. She understood the subtle shifts and glances. She was going to prove to Faith that she was the one person who would not be deceived.
“You’re sorry,” Buffy said.
“Yeah.”
She’d hit close to home first. “Are you sorry you tried to kill Xander?”
Stay on the eyes. Don’t be distracted.
“Yeah.”
“Say it,” Buffy demanded.
“I— I’m sorry I tried to kill him.”
“Kill who?” Buffy brought her face closer to Faith’s, and she could see the reflection of her own anger in Faith’s eyes.
“I’m sorry I tried to kill Xander,” Faith whispered.
“Is that enough?” Faith blinked. The eyes shifted, and tried to look away. Buffy grabbed her by the shoulders, and held her in position. “Look at me! Is that enough, Faith?”
“No,” she breathed. Her head shook slightly. “No.”
“Why did you do it?”
Fear flashed in those eyes. It was a triumph. She was getting closer.
“I—I don’t know.”
“Are you sorry you shot Angel?”
“Yes.”
“Is that enough? Is it enough that you’re sorry, Faith?”
“No,” her eyes weren’t wet now. They were dull and defeated. Buffy inched closer to her, and tightened her grip.
“Why did you do it?”
“The Mayor told me to.”
“You did it! Why did you do it?”
“I—I don’t know.”
“Yes you do!” Buffy nearly screamed at her. “You know, Faith! You did it because you wanted to! Why?”
Because she was jealous. Because she wanted Angel for herself. Buffy just needed to hear the words.
“Just say it,” Buffy whispered. “Just tell me why.”
Faith stared back at her, fear evident in her eyes. She didn’t try to move.
“Because I was—”
Jealous. Say it.
“Because I was afraid of him. He knew what I was. He knew what I felt. I—I didn’t want him to be right.”
Buffy stared at her, aghast. “No— it’s because you— That’s not true.”
“I’m sorry.”
“Stop saying that!” Buffy shook her, unable to do more thanks to Xander’s orders. “You’re not!”
“I am,” she said, and even that sounded apologetic.
“You’re a murderer,” Buffy whispered. “Are you sorry for that?”
“Yes.”
“You’re a rapist. Are you sorry for that?”
“Yes.”
“I was nice to you.”
Faith said nothing.
“Tell me I wasn’t,” Buffy demanded. “Tell me I was horrible to you. Tell me what I did to you that was so awful!”
“You…” Faith closed her eyes for a moment, and exhaled slowly. She opened them again, and looked her in the eye. “You let me be me.”
Buffy grit her teeth before replying. “What?”
“You didn’t save me. You didn’t stop me being myself.”
“So that’s it?” Buffy asked. “That’s the whole thing? This whole time, you just wanted to be me, is that it? That’s why you pulled the body swap last year? That’s why you tried to destroy everything I ever had? Because you wanted to be me?”
“No, I—”
“God!” Buffy looked up at the ceiling, incredulous. “You must have been so happy! Were you? Were you happy when you were me, Faith?”
“Yes, but—”
“But it wasn’t enough, right? Sure, you got my body, and you got to have Riley, but you didn’t have everything, did you? That’s why you went running to get Angel. He was the last piece, the last thing you wanted to take from me, wasn’t he? That’s why you went to him.”
She was panting as she spoke. Her chest heaved, and her nipples throbbed. There was a moistness between her legs that was beginning to drip down her leg, but she ignored all of it. She was finally at the core. She was going to get her to admit to all of it.
“No,” Faith said, and suddenly there were tears rolling down her cheeks. Her eyes broke from Buffy’s, and she squeezed them shut. Her entire face screwed up. “No.”
“Then why?”
Faith’s hands covered her face. Buffy maintained her grip on Faith’s upper arms, and for a moment she almost felt like she was hugging her. She thought about letting go, but remained where she was.
“I wanted him to kill me,” Faith whispered, her voice muffled.
Buffy froze. Her grip loosened, and her arms fell to her sides. “No you didn’t.”
Faith slumped back onto the couch, and curled up into a ball. Her hands remained over her face. “I can’t get away from it. I can’t get away from me, no matter what I do. Even when I was you, I was still me. I’m always me, and I’m always going to screw it up.”
She looked up, and the anger in her face surprised Buffy. “I didn’t want to be you. I hated you, Buffy. I still… I still kind of hate you, sometimes.”
I hate you more, Buffy tried to say. She couldn’t quite get the words to come.
“You know me,” Faith sniffed. “I don’t deserve any of this. I don’t deserve any of the stuff you get. When I tried to steal it, it made me want to die. I don’t want to be you, Buffy. I want to be… I want to be someone better. I want to be someone you could… you could love. Anyone could love.”
She sat up, and looked defiantly up at Buffy. “I don’t want to be you. I just don’t want to be me, okay?”
Buffy didn’t know what to say. This wasn’t what was supposed to happen. This wasn’t what Faith was like. Faith was twisted and sick. She didn’t have feelings like this. She laughed at girls with feelings like this. She was tough and ruthless and dark. She was an enemy.
“You don’t have to be,” Buffy said, surprised at the compassion in her own voice.
“Can’t change who you are,” Faith said morosely. “Not really.”
“But you said you were sorry.”
“Doesn’t mean shit. You said it yourself.”
“Yeah, but I was…” Buffy sighed, searching for the words. Before she realized she’d done it, she was sitting beside Faith. “I was mad.”
“Still true. I’m bad. Sooner or later, Xander’ll figure it out just like you.” Her eyes were growing wet again. Buffy didn’t like it. Faith didn’t do crying. It just wasn’t right.
“You can be different, if you really want to.”
Faith shrugged.
“If you’re really sorry, you’ll be different.”
“I don’t know how to be sorry.”
Buffy shook her head, and without thinking she brushed a strand of hair out of Faith’s eyes. She wanted to look at those eyes. Suddenly they seemed so different. There was so much pain in there. How come she’d never seen it before?
“Yes you do,” Buffy whispered. “You said you were sorry. You can’t lie to me. Xander said.”
“I shouldn’t have this.”
Buffy frowned. “Have what?”
“Any of this. It’s yours. I don’t deserve it. I’m a murderer.”
“Oh,” Buffy said. She looked down, and couldn’t help but notice how her arm pressed against Faith’s. They were close, and in more ways than one. A long time ago, she thought she was the other side of Faith’s coin. She flexed her fingers. Faith’s flexed at the same moment, and suddenly they were touching. Their fingers interlocked, and they squeezed against each other.
Buffy’s heart began to pound. It was happening. She was losing it. The anger was fading, and she couldn’t pull it back. Pity, remorse, and sympathy were flowing into her.
She’s a murderer, a voice said inside her mind. It was true. How could she ever let herself be close to Faith, knowing what she was?
Isn’t Anya a murderer too? Isn’t Angel?
Damned brain and it’s damned logic.
“Faith?” Buffy asked, her voice quiet and low.
“Yeah?”
“I don’t hate you, you know.”
Faith blinked, and another tear rolled down her cheek. “You’re so damned better than me.”
Buffy smiled a little at that. “Are you really sorry?”
“Yes.”
“I believe you.”
Faith looked up at her. There was the vague glimmer of hope in her eyes.
“If you promise you’re different,” Buffy said. “I’ll believe you.”
“But I—”
“Just say it. If you say it, it’s true.”
“It doesn’t change anything. I still did all those things.”
“Just say it, Faith.”
“It won’t bring them back.”
Buffy squeezed her hand almost painfully. “Faith, I don’t care. Either you say it and I’ll believe you, or you don’t, and I’ll find a way to get you away from everyone I care about.”
Faith’s breathing quickened, and her pupils dilated in a sudden rush of fear. Her grip on Buffy’s hand was suddenly strong and desperate. “I—”
“I think you can say it,” Buffy said, and she was surprised that this was true. She felt her anger fading away into the past. There were only two choices. Either she was different, or she wasn’t.
Buffy Summers had always been, deep down, a raging optimist. She didn’t just think Faith could be different, but once she’d been forced to accept the notion that it was a possibility, she suddenly realized that she wanted Faith to be different. She wanted Faith to change. She wanted Faith to come back to them.
She wanted Faith to come back to her?
Buffy shifted her position so she was kneeling next to Faith on the couch. Faith’s hand was in Buffy’s, and Buffy looked her deep in the eyes. “You’re sorry, right?”
“Yeah.”
“You don’t want to be that way, right?”
“I hate it.”
“So don’t be that way. Be different.”
“But if I can’t… I’ll lose all of this.”
“But Faith,” Buffy whispered, and she brought her face close to Faith’s. “If you can, you can keep it forever.” The side of her nose touched the side of Faith’s. Their eyes were inches apart. Buffy needed it so badly, but she wouldn’t give it, not until it was real. If it wasn’t, if Faith couldn’t do it, she would let her anger flare back up, and never let it die again.
If it was real, then she’d trust in it, and let herself go over the edge.
“Buffy,” Faith breathed.
“You can say it.”
Buffy could feel the pound of Faith’s pulse with their hands gripped tightly together. She could taste her breath with every panicked rise of her chest. She could feel the softness of her skin, and she could see the trembling pain and fear in her eyes. She had to be able to say it. There was no question anymore.
“I’m… Different.”
Buffy’s mouth split into a bright grin. “You promise?”
Faith’s eyes were full of tears, and she smiled right back. “Yeah. Yeah, I promise.”
“Good.”
She pushed her lips against Faith’s, and felt Faith’s arms go around her back, holding her with unnatural strength. She wrapped her own arms around Faith, and pulled her close, tasting the salty tears and perfect sweetness of Faith’s lips.
Buffy moaned passionately as the kiss turned ferocious, and rolled over to put Faith on her back. She straddled the other Slayer, and put her arms to either side of Faith’s head. Faith stared up at her, breathing heavily.
“Are we really doing this?” asked Faith.
“Yes,” Buffy replied, and let her eyes roam over Faith’s body. She groaned and kissed the side of her neck. “Yes.”
She was so hot. Every slide of Faith’s skin against hers made her tremble. Every little whimper, every quiet groan was maddening. Buffy ground her bottom against Faith’s waist, and imagined all the things her doubly sexual mind could conjure.
For days she’d been ignoring her, ignoring the feelings that flitted against her stomach whenever she saw Faith. Faith nude. Faith bound. Faith sweaty and panting. Buffy had forced herself not to dwell on it, tried valiantly to ignore the burning need she had.
Her mind was different. She knew that, but she’d fought it all the same. She would have continued to fight it, and she knew for damn sure she would have won, if she had to. A week ago, she didn’t stare at girl’s legs. A week ago, she didn’t long to taste their lips. A week ago, she had never once fantasized about licking, sucking, kissing, or rubbing against another girl.
Never once.
Except for that one, brief, crazy moment almost three years ago, when she’d turned in the middle of a darkened club, and been face to face with Faith. That one night, where the music had been pounding through her, and the smell of Faith seemed overpowering. That one night, that one instant, where Buffy Summers had one brief, almost unnoticed thought.
What would it be like to kiss Faith?
A week ago, Buffy Summers was a devout heterosexual. A week ago, save for that one minor exception, she had never thought of another girl in a sexual way. Then the Reward had come. It had added to her own feelings, mixing her desires with Faith’s and throwing in some new ones seemingly at random.
It had instilled that attraction to women inside of her, and amplified it to the point where she couldn’t deny it. So many other desires danced in her mind, some native to her and some completely fabricated. All were powerful, and all were deeply alluring.
But the strongest were the ones that were hers. She knew it, even if she could never admit it. The desires that were most powerful were the ones that had existed inside of her all along. The desire for pain, for trust, and for twisted darkness. The desire for losing control. The desire for someone she could show all her dark demons to, and who would love her all the same.
That was why she hadn’t fought it. She could recall hanging by her wrists, staring at Xander, and knowing that she was completely naked before him. She could recall how deeply he looked into her, and how that look of love had never left his eyes, even when he began to see all the twisted desires inside of her.
Those were her desires, built up bigger and brighter than ever before, but still hers. She had embraced them, because to deny them was to deny herself. The others she could fight. The others she would have fought, if she had to.
She was attracted to women now. She’d given into it, because there was no real reason not to. Part of giving into Xander was giving into those desires. The problem had been Faith.
How could she allow herself to be attracted to women, and deny herself Faith? How could she give in to the false attraction, and deny the seed of what had been there that night?
She would have, if she had to. She would have never given in, not of her own free will. Xander could have made her, but she knew he never would have. Not unless she allowed it to happen. An hour ago, she thought she would never allow it.
She never counted on believing her.
That was all it took to let that dogged refusal to slip away. Buffy allowed herself to be flooded over by her need for Faith’s body, and was swept away in it.
“This isn’t us changing,” Buffy whispered in her ear. “This is just the promise that we will change, okay?”
“Yeah.”
They kissed again. Buffy sucked gently on Faith’s lower lip, tasting it and savoring it. Faith’s fingers combed through her hair, and they moaned against each other. Buffy was kissing Faith, and the taboo nature of it was driving her crazy. She moaned again, and ground her hips into Faith once more.
Their lips broke apart, and Faith stared up at her in dazzled fascination. She swallowed, and licked her lips. Buffy stared down at her, at the way her dark hair cascaded out around her, at the way her lips shimmered in the dim light. She kissed them again, but it was a lighter kiss this time, sweet rather than passionate. Faith whimpered at the touch.
“How long have you wanted to fuck me?” Buffy asked as she kissed her way slowly down Faith’s neck and to the top of her chest. Faith groaned and let her eyes close as Buffy encircled one nipple in her lips and sucked gently on it.
“Since the first time you beat me,” Faith said, her voice husky and low. Buffy was surprised by the answer, and raised her head.
“Really?”
“Yeah,” Faith said, and she rocked her hips gently. “I’m twisted.”
“I thought it was earlier than that,” Buffy said, feeling just a little disappointed.
“Sorry,” Faith said, and there was a hint of sadness at the apology. “You always got me hot when you were pissed.”
“Really?” Buffy said again, and she found herself grinning a little this time. “I thought you just said stuff like that to throw me off.”
“Both.” Faith reached up and brushed some hair away from Buffy’s eyes. Buffy let herself enjoy the touch, and the softness of it. Tonight, now, she was just going to enjoy it. She had to taste it without strings tonight, and tomorrow she could work on changing the two of them, fixing what had been broken for so long. “Tell me something true.”
“I don’t think I need to be any hotter,” Buffy said, and she kissed her again. Faith’s hands slid down her body and gripped her ass, kneading her cheeks gently.
“C’mon, Buffy. You tell me and then I’ll tell you. We’ll trade.”
The hands left her backside and reached up to cup her breasts. Buffy let her back arch and she groaned appreciatively as Faith pinched with surprising force, sending those jolts of beautiful pain through her. Faith sat up, holding Buffy to her as she sucked on Buffy’s left nipple, massaging against it with her tongue before biting down. Buffy gasped, and to her mild surprise, found herself holding Faith’s head closer to her.
“I — ungh — I… I get hot when I’m mad.”
She could almost feel the minute jolt in her arousal, as much from the admission of the secret as from the truth telling itself.
Faith licked up the space between her breasts and then kissed her again. It was a long, almost savage kiss, with Buffy holding her head close while Faith’s hands worked up and down Buffy’s back, stroking her and feeling her.
“I dream about you,” Faith admitted. “Sometimes they’re nightmares. Sometimes they’re wet dreams. Sometimes they’re both.” She bent her head down and hugged Buffy’s chest, resting her head between her breasts. Buffy held her there for a moment, aware that it meant something.
“I had a dream that you helped me. I think it was real.”
“This kind of feels like a dream,” Faith said, eyes closed and cheek pressed against Buffy’s chest. “It’d be really fucked up if it was.”
Buffy stroked the back of Faith’s head, surprised at how much she enjoyed the gentle nature of the act. As good as it felt, she was not ready for quiet and gentle. There would be time for that when they worked through the depths of their issues. Now, she just wanted to indulge.
“Tell me more true things. Did you… Did you ever touch yourself while you thought about me?”
Faith looked up at her. “I fucked myself with your favorite vib while I was in your body.”
Buffy’s mouth opened in shock. “You did?”
“Yeah. Sorry.”
“And you were… thinking about me?”
“Stared in the mirror the whole time,” Faith said, licking her lips. Buffy could almost feel the heat between them rising with every word of truth. “Except sometimes I’d close my eyes and say nasty shit to myself and pretend it was you. That’s how I finished, mostly.”
“You pretended I was calling you dirty names?”
“Yeah.”
“What did you want me to call you?” Buffy stared at her in eager anticipation.
“A stupid cunt,” Faith whispered. “You’d tell me what a worthless bitch I was. Called me an evil slut that you’d never touch, not in a million years.”
“Did it get you hot, hearing me call you those things?”
Faith shook her head. “No.”
“It didn’t? You don’t like… dirty talk?”
“Not like that,” Faith admitted. “At least, back then I didn’t. Now…”
“Now you love it,” Buffy finished for her.
Faith nodded. “Yeah.”
“Because of me,” Buffy said, groaning. She couldn’t hold it back any more and kissed Faith again, her arousal having jumped several notches in the latest bout of truth telling. She nearly growled as she pushed Faith back down against the couch. “You made me a lesbian. I made you love dirty talk.”
“You?” Faith asked as Buffy kissed the tips of her nipples. “You liked it before?”
“Yes. I never told anyone about it. I wouldn’t ever let anyone even try.”
“But you’re so… nice.”
“I can’t help it.” Buffy kissed up her neck again. “It makes me so horny.”
“If I could lie, I’d call you some names right now.”
Buffy smiled despite herself. “That’s actually kind of sweet.” She was further surprised when Faith seemed to flush slightly red. She made a mental note to remember that reaction. Any further thought was eradicated when Faith’s fingers suddenly slid down Buffy’s belly and slid across her slit. Buffy gasped and shuddered, burying her face against Faith’s chest as Faith began to work expertly in and out of her. “Ungh!”
Faith’s fingers were inside of her, moving with practiced precision, knowing exactly where to touch her to feel the best. Faith knew Buffy’s body. Buffy let her eyes close as she imagined the sight of her nude body in front of the full length mirror in her room, sliding the vibrator in and out of her while she said the nastiest things she could think of to herself.
“Faith,” Buffy whined as a finger slid deep inside of her. “Show me? Show me how you touched me?”
Faith paused, and Buffy’s eyes opened to meet Faith’s. Faith stared up at her. “You sure?”
“God, yes. Touch me like you did then. Say what you said then. Please?”
Faith was silent for a moment, seeming to think about it. Her fingers ceased their movement, and Buffy almost whimpered at their loss.
“Okay,” Faith said, nodding slowly. “I’ll show you.”
“Well that was somehow even more awkward than I thought it would be,” Xander sighed as he pulled into the parking lot for his apartment complex.
“Giles was uncomfortable hearing about your sexual prowess?” Anya asked. “Perhaps he’s worried that you might threaten his position as Alpha male.”
“No, I think it’s just that he’s a big Briti— wait a second, why is he the Alpha male?”
Anya shrugged and began counting off on her fingers. “Well he’s smarter than you, he’s got a better education, he has more money, he can beat you in a physical fight, he can beat you in a magical fight, he’s older than you, he’s bigger than you, he—”
“All right, all right, I get it.”
“Anyway, is everything okay with your penis?”
Xander grinned a little as he pulled up the parking brake, and leaned over to kiss her gently. “Apparently so. Giles isn’t sure if it’s a purposeful part of the reward, or just a side effect of the anti-hellmouth luck thing I’ve got now.”
“What do you mean?”
Xander shrugged as they exited the car. “I told you how I’ve been feeling a lot more energized, right? Like I can recover from sex a lot faster?”
“Yes, it’s been very nice,” she said matter-of-factly.
“Well Giles said it could be the reward did it, or it could be that I’m like turning all the bad vibes the hellmouth sends out into good vibes, and kind of absorbing them. So it makes me just… I dunno, better.”
“Hmm,” Anya said, stroking her chin as they made their way to the apartment. “I’m not sure which one I want to be true.”
“Whatever doesn’t inevitably backfire on me, that’s the one I choose.”
Anya sighed and put her arm around his waist. She leaned her head against him as they walked. “I don’t think this will backfire.”
“Oh yeah?”
“Yeah. Rewards are even stronger than wishes.”
“Well you’re the expert,” he said, and kissed her on top of her head. She sighed happily and hugged him.
They walked in silence for a ways, enjoying each other’s presence. Just before they reached their hallway, Anya spoke up.
“I hope they’re fixed when we get back.”
“I’ll be glad if they aren’t killing each other,” Xander admitted. “I’m not looking for any miracles.”
“They’ll be fixed,” Anya said, sounding as if she was making a decision. “Otherwise we should punish them both. Buffy will like that.”
“You’re a natural, Ahn. In fact, you’re kind of scary in h—” he paused. He could hear something.
“…worthless piece of…”
“Do you hear that?” Xander asked. It was faint. Very faint. Was it coming from one of the apartments? The walls were supposed to be soundproofed. Yet with every step, he could hear it a little louder.
“I don’t hear anything,” Anya said, frowning as she turned her head from side to side. “What do you hear?”
“…deserve to live…not even worth fucking…”
Xander paled. Oh no. That was Faith’s voice. This was not good. This was the exact opposite of what he hoped was going to happen. They weren’t supposed to be screaming insults at each other. They were supposed to be bonding!
“It’s Faith,” he said, and grit his teeth as he strode quickly towards the door.
“I don’t hear anything,” Anya said, trotting after him. “What’s she doing?”
He dug in his pocket for his keys. “Taking a huge step backwards.”
“…kiss my feet…you horny cunt, think anyone would touch a worthless whore like you?”
Xander groaned and closed his eyes. This could not be happening. Things were going so well. And here just two minutes ago Anya was saying nothing was going to backfire. Showed what she knew.
It was all his fault. He thought they’d at least bond a little bit, maybe work through some of their mistrust. He didn’t think Faith would actually go so far as to — whoa, that was a creative one — spew such hatred at Buffy. Had he really been so wrong about her?
Taking a deep breath, Xander put the key in the lock, and steeled himself for the angry scene he was about to step into. He turned the doorknob, stepped inside, and felt his entire face go slack.
There was Buffy, feet placed firmly apart on either end of the couch’s armrest, back arching up and down in a slow rhythm. She was as nude as before, with the same heels, collar, and wrist cuffs, only now she sported a bright red ball-gag in her mouth, and it seemed that her wrists were locked together above her head.
Below Buffy was Faith, her arms around Buffy’s middle. One hand was between Buffy’s legs, fingering her with furious abandon, and the other was pulling and pinching at Buffy’s breasts. Buffy’s eyes were closed in bliss, and her entire body was shiny with sweat.
Anya stepped in, and was thoughtful enough to close the door behind her, lest all the neighbors get a free show. She stepped up beside Xander, and cocked her head to one side at the scene.
Faith and Buffy were oblivious to their audience, and Faith continued her dirty tirade. “You stupid whore, you think anyone wants to touch your cum soaked pussy? You’re too filthy. You’re nothing. You’re just a toy they use and then dump at the side of the road when it’s all used up. Look at you, frigging yourself like the slut you are. No wonder no one cares about you. You dumb cunt!”
She pinched Buffy’s nipple hard, and Buffy screamed into her gag, arching her back as her eyes snapped open. For a moment, they saw nothing, blinded by the taboo nature of the pleasure scorching through her. Then her pupils seemed to focus, and she realized that Xander was watching her.
Faith didn’t notice, and Buffy’s whimpering (and very mild) protests into her gag did not register with her at all. Her self-loathing dirty talk began to lose its coherency as she continued, becoming nothing more than a long string of curses and invectives. Her left hand would alternate between Buffy’s breasts and her own pussy, and she rocked her hips into Buffy’s back with every breath.
By then, Buffy was staring openly at Xander, and could not move her eyes from his. Xander stared back, amazed at the confusing but undeniably erotic sight in front of him. Buffy’s whimpers began to increase in pitch and tempo, and soon her back was arching again. Faith arched with her this time, the fingers of her other hand buried deep in her own wet pussy, and she groaned a series of curses into Buffy’s ear as they both came.
The two Slayers collapsed then, both of them panting as they relaxed. Buffy’s eyes were glazed as she focused on Xander again, and she let out a little whimper with every breath. Xander had no idea what to say.
“That’s it,” Anya said, narrowing her eyes at the two girls. “Buffy, you’ve had an unfair number of orgasms today. Xander, tell her she’s had too many orgasms.”
“Uh…”
“You have to think of others sometimes, Buffy. Nobody likes a selfish lover.” She shook a disapproving finger at Buffy’s limp form, and then reached down to pull off her shirt, revealing a lacy bra underneath. “No more orgasms for you until you repay all the ones you’ve had today.”
“Mmng?” Buffy whimpered.
“Right Xander?”
“Buh…”
“Right,” Anya answered for him. She shimmied out of her pants, and kicked them aside, standing there in her bra and panties. “You can do me first. We don’t have a lot of time, since somebody made me go with him to the Magic Shop instead of getting the orgasms I had coming to me.”
“Ahn,” Xander said, coming out of his daze. “I think we should talk abou—”
“Shh,” she said, waving her hand at him. “You do Faith, and afterwards Buffy can repay her too. I’m going first though.” Anya stepped over to the couch, and seemed to survey the situation. “Can you make her gag go away? I need her tongue.”
“Anya, I—” Xander began, but there was a brief flash and the gag was suddenly gone. Anya smiled cheerfully.
“Ooh! Great! Now just stay like that, Buffy.” With that, she pulled off her panties, and climbed over the other armrest of the couch to perch over Buffy’s face. “Remember, you owe me at least three orgasms.”
“But I—” Buffy tried to say, but was cut off as Anya lowered herself onto the Slayer’s face. “Mmff!”
Anya wiggled her bottom insistently. “Come on, you promised. I didn’t go through all the trouble of spanking you just so I cou— Oh! Oh! Ungh!” Anya’s body twitched and she reached up to cup her own breasts. “Oh! That’s good! Good, slave. OOH! Very good slave!”
Unable to believe the madness that was his life, Xander did the only thing he could think of to do. He took off his pants and joined in.
Afterwards, he’d figure out what the heck had happened.
| Chapter 18 | Contents | Chapter 20 |
| M. McGregor’s Chapter 19, on Live Journal | ||