StephenT (stormwreath) wrote,

(Fic) (Dis)Connection

One of the questions in my poll yesterday asked if Buffy and Faith were "at it like bunnies" in season 3, and 23% of the respondents said "yes". I have to say I'm not one of them; I don't think they were. I do, however, think that something like the scene in this fic might have happened...

And yes, I've actually written my first fic in over a month...

Set in early Season 3. Buffy and Faith have found a vampire nest.
Rating 18, warnings for fighting, femslash and angst. 1,639 words.



The vampire roared, spittle flying from his fang-filled mouth. I watched him coolly, my stake firm and hard in my right hand; measuring, judging. Then he leaped, and I blurred to the side, arm raised, stake pointed, and he exploded into dust in front of me. I allowed myself a momentary grin of triumph before whirling around to face the others.

You had three of them on you, and I felt a pang of worry; but then you landed the sweetest high kick to the first one's throat, twisted around in mid-air as he staggered backwards, flung out your arm - I couldn't even tell if it was planned or accidental, but your stake hit the second one right in the chest, and then you were on the ground and ducking and rolling, and coming up behind the third, and your stake jabbed out again, and now you were only facing one of them. I heard you laugh in pure glee and exhilaration, and I shared your joy as I turned to face the last survivors of the nest.

No lie - I half expected them to break and run; there were six of them left and two of us, and they were outnumbered. But these were braver, or stupider, than the norm, and I can't say I was sorry. The next to come at me was a girl, lank and straggly blonde hair still with the dust of the grave clinging to it, and I stiff-armed her in the face with my left then thrust out with my right, and then nothing but the dust remained. Five left. No, sorry, four - you just got another one yourself. We shared a quick smile then turned to face the rest. Two each.

But this next one was bigger and meaner than his dead friends, and he caught my wrist as I tried for his heart, and twisted. I groaned in pain and dropped the stake, and he laughed cruelly and went for the grapple, dirty yellow teeth inches from my neck. And I was so focussed on keeping him off that only pure Slayer instinct let me see the motion out of the corner of my eye, and realise the other vamp had picked up my own stake and was drawing his arm back to thrust it deep into my back. I yelled your name, and time seemed to slow down; you turned your head, your wild smile as you slayed the first of your own opponents slowly fading into concern for me, the vampire with the stake tensing his muscles, the one holding me forcing back my arm, his saliva dripping onto my exposed neck, and I felt the angles and balance and timing shifting around me like they were concrete things that I could reach out and touch, and so I did; I kicked out my legs, striking the vamp with the stake full in the chest, driving him backwards, straight at you, straight onto your own waiting stake; and my sudden weight pulled my other opponent forward, drew him off balance and he toppled forward, and I jammed the heel of my hand under his chin as I grasped his jacket with my other and pulled, and I heard his neck snap, and then he was gone.

I jumped back to my feet, heart pumping wildly, fear and excitement and victory sparkling in my eyes, and I felt a warm glow as you looked at me in admiration and told me "Nice work, B", and then scooped up my stake and tossed it back over to me. And I caught it one-handed and turned to face the last of them, and now her courage did fail, and she broke and ran for the exit. I lunged at her as she tried to barge past me, but she was tricky, she tripped you and pushed you into me, and both of us went over onto the floor, tangled limbs and warm bodies together. But I propped myself up on one arm and threw my stake, and it caught her as she ran and turned her into a cloud of dust that actually kept moving a little way with her momentum, reaching the exit to the crypt before dispersing and spreading away to nothingness.

And I laughed at that, because it seemed funny, and because I was still alive, and I felt your own laughter join mine as you lay there, pressed against me, your heart thudding in your chest matching my own beat for beat, because we were the same, weren't we? We were matched, we knew each other's moves, shared each other's dreams, stood side-by-side together against the world. You were clinging to me, shaking with your own laughter, red-faced and panting, and my own arms went around you and held you tightly, and I felt your breath against my neck, warm and moist and alive, and my hands were clutching in your long brown hair, cupping the back of your head, and then somehow we were kissing.

Hungry mouths pressed together, tongues intertwining and swirling, and I don't know if it was my idea or yours but it just seemed right, because I needed you, needed to feel your heat, your vibrancy, to breathe in your scent, cheap shampoo and cigarette smoke and fresh sweat. Hear your gasp as we finally broke for air, see the passion and need and the tiniest hint of vulnerability shining in your eyes as they met mine, the unspoken question. But I had no answers for you, only my own body, my need, my aliveness, that clutched and grasped at your own and tried to draw you into me.

We kissed again, and I felt the heat rising inside me, the tingling, the hunger, and you were wriggling against me, feeling the same pressure, and it seemed only natural to bring my leg up, pushing it between your leather-clad thighs, searching for your centre, and you were wriggling and grinding against me, your breath coming shorter and faster, the pounding in your chest which lay crushed against my own vibrating through my body and sending my own need spiralling. So I pushed harder and deeper against you, meeting your pressure with my own, matching your movements just as we had when we fought side by side, and your arms around me held me in a crushing grip, Slayer-strong, and your features darkened and your eyes screwed shut, and your muscles locked into a death-grip, hard enough to hurt even me, and you mumbled a gasping obscenity or two, and then all the strength seemed to go out of you at once and you collapsed around me limp and pliant and glowing.

And I went cold all over.

Were we... was that... did you just...okay, eww! My mind froze, tumbling thoughts chasing each other so quickly I couldn't make coherent sense of any of them. But you were oblivious, of course; you laughed a low, husky laugh and kissed me, a little playful nip on my neck, and next thing I knew your hand was rummaging under my skirt, tracing a line up my thigh, down the other, then back and slipping under the thin, damp cloth of my knickers. And it was wrong, and you shouldn't be doing it, and it felt so good, your slightly rough finger stroking up and down, gentle but firm, slightly scratchy until my own wetness covered it, and I didn't know what to do, and I felt my eyes closing as warm waves of pleasure cycled up through me, and I tried to fight it because we shouldn't, I wasn't that kind of...

Your finger wriggled its way inside me, and my eyes flew open in shock. This was real. Your finger. Was inside me. This was not supposed to happen.

What the hell was I doing?

I pushed your hand away. "What the hell are you doing?"

You looked at me in shock, surprise and confusion in your eyes. And then the hurt, the vulnerability... and then nothing. Your barrier slammed down, your gaze met mine blankly, an empty mirror. "Whatever, B. Just thought we were having fun, is all."

"No! Bad kind of fun. You know I'm not into that, and I didn't think you were either."

"Seems there's a lot you don't know about me. Or yourself, 'cause hey, you seemed pretty much in the moment there..."

"I was not!" My conscience was telling me that wasn't entirely true, but I tried to drown it out by being more determined. "It was just, with the fighty, and the being-aliveness, and the inappropriate post-battle reactions. We got carried away for a minute. It was a thing, that's all."

"Whatever you say. We done here? 'Cause I need to get home and shower." You stretched, arms thrust back, head tilted, and I turned my face away from the sight of your out-thrust breasts, nipples outlined clearly through your t-shirt. Because I was being polite, no other reason.

Certainly not because I was still buzzy and tingling and flushed. Like you, I needed to get home for - for a shower. Nothing else.

You turned and headed for the exit to the crypt, not looking back. I watched you walk away, filled with relief that soon you'd be gone, taking all the confusing and disturbing thoughts and feelings away with you. I wouldn't have to feel this way once you stepped outside that door...

"Faith, wait!"

You stopped, your form silhouetted against the moonlight shining in from outside. You turned back to face me, your movements curiously hesitant. You didn't speak. There was so much I wanted to say to you...

But the words wouldn't come.

"I'll, uh, see you tomorrow, okay?"

You nodded, and turned, and walked away, and left me. Alone.
Tags: buffy, fic
  • Post a new comment


    default userpic

    Your reply will be screened

    Your IP address will be recorded 

    When you submit the form an invisible reCAPTCHA check will be performed.
    You must follow the Privacy Policy and Google Terms of use.