POV Faith.
By the time we had arrived back at mine, the sun was already shifting it’s way up to the sky, the last of the stars twinkling out, the last of the beasties put to bed. It made it a more enjoyable walk, no need to be checking our backs for signs of anything dumb enough to wanna be sampling a taste, just an easy stroll through town until we arrived at my door. Standing as a team again, the momentary fuck up, in our long list of fuck ups, had been put to rest, and Buffy’s hand sat as comfortably in my hand as it ever had done. Her thumb stroking gently against my palm whilst I stood and looked for my key.
It was nice. It was the kind of moment that ya just wanna step back and take a breath on. Complete calm, complete silence. No words needed to be filling a void, because there wasn’t a void, it was just easy. I think I’d ended up doing a good impression of a goofy sized grin, because when I’d turned to her with key in hand, she was pulling a fairly big goofy sized grin of her own.
“Whatcha smiling for?”
Knowing that it was for me, a return for my smile, but still having to ask. Wanting to ask. Passing the moment of perfect silence, and ready again for the thrill of swapping words with her.
“You were smiling, it’s all contagious.”
“I like it.” I paused before I turned back to the door, lent forwards to drop a sweet little kiss to her lips, inviting her smile to stay. “What do ya say we try and get through the whole day without losing any of the smiles?”
“I’m game if you are, I could handle some of the trouble free.”
Her voice had sounded airy and light, caressing my ears, making them happy. I knew that we weren’t directly talking about us, that we were striving for ‘trouble free’ on a much more general scale, but it did relate directly to us too. Like there was some kind of curse that meant we couldn’t get through a few hours at a time until we needed to get down with the serious and have a soul searching deep and meaningful. I wasn’t complaining, I may be the last in the queue for the caring and sharing foundation, but the intimacy I was finding in opening up with B, was unlike anything I have ever felt before. At the same time though, I wanted a break from it as well. From the exhaustion of needing reassurances, or of offering reassurances. Just a few hours where the smiles stayed put all by themselves.
I had known at that exact moment when I was thinking it, that it was like some kind of fucked up unattainable dream. That even if me and B could keep our ever ready emotions under check, then something else would be waiting in the wings to mess up an otherwise beautiful day. Today was a beautiful day. The sun rising just as I said it had, the walk refreshing, the company perfect. But then there was a story waiting in the wings to be told. A story that would anger me like no other, would have every dark emotion wanting to rise up and scream out in fury. It was a bad story for B too. I guess you could say it was a bad story for slayers all round, a fucked up story.
The girl had had a damn good reason to run.
“You’re back, I didn’t expect you back so soon.”
“I was scared she’d wake up, I wanted to be here for it…” I stepped through the door, B following close behind. “…has she woken up?”
Angel shook his head as he answered, “Not stirred once. Cordy’s in the shower, do you want coffee?”
“No, I’m good.”
“Buffy?”
“Sure, why not? Nothing tops a sleepless night like endless cups of coffee. Make mine a large.”
He’d set off for the cupboard, and we’d set ourselves around the table. It was a strange threesome that we made, each of us bound securely together in one way or another, but yet there had never been a point in time where we had bonded together as a group. The only history we shared communally, being my maddened months of disordered personality. It kinda made it awkward where it shouldn’t be, no safe history to make small talk with, no moments to laugh at and say, remember when? I know I wasn’t the only one glad when Cordy had made her appearance, freshly dressed and looking as though she’d just stepped from the beauty salon.
“We’re all up bright and early today, did I miss something? Are the sales on?”
“I thought the sales were for the common folk Cor, you slipping on your status?”
I’d winked in reply to her sassy grin, followed her form over to the coffee machine, and chalked one up to me. It wasn’t often that she didn’t slice me in two with a quick comeback and it was hard not to be pleased with my momentary victory. After all, I may be the one packing the serious strength, but when it came to the verbal sparring, more often than not, it was her who wore the slayer crown.
“So why ‘are’ we all up so early, it’s not another apocalypse is it, because I’m booked in for a manicure at ten, and there’s no way that my nails are missing their appointment.”
“Cool it princess, no end of the world stuff, just slayer stuff.” She sipped at her mug and took a seat amongst us, in between me and Angel, her eyebrows raising on my comment.
“Slayer stuff?”
“Uh-huh. We found her Cordy, we found Kennedy.”
“Oh, you did? Is she…”
She flapped her hands about her head in a vague gesture of crazy.
“Is she… a fan of the ‘vogue’?”
“You know what I mean, is she crazy?”
I’d let my eyes fall on B, conferred with her in silence on how we were classifying our new girl. Was she crazy? Crazily scared.
“We haven’t spoken to her yet, but I’m betting on ‘no’, I don’t think so.”
“I’m not crazy.”
Her flat tones had called all of our attention over to the doorway. She was stood there before us, managing to look both tall and small at the same time, her posture daring us to argue with her words, yet the look in her eyes not hard enough to threaten anything at all. Still looking wary, her gaze flitting fast over everyone at the table.
“Ken, you’re awake.”
“Yeah, and you’re so obviously observant.”
“Oh wow, it’s a brat with super powers…” Cordy had been quick to introduce herself, ever the charmer. “…did they let you out of kindergarten specially?”
Maybe without the charm.
It had been quite funny to watch Kennedy’s face at the words though, the way her mouth had done the rapid open, shut manoeuvre. Her eyes flitting even more rapidly between us as she wondered at who this was.
“Kennedy, meet Cordy. If I was you, I wouldn’t mess with her, just smile graciously and admit defeat… it’s easier in the long run. Less painful.”
“Who is she?”
“Did you not hear? I’m Cordy, pleased to meet you. Want coffee?”
“I mean ‘what’ are you? Are you council?”
I was getting the impression that the council really weren’t very high on her list of friends, maybe somewhere close to the bottom, maybe lower. The question had brought laughter to Cordy though, made all of us chuckle a little at the absurdity of her inquiry.
“Believe me no, I am not, and never shall be a member of the council. I think you have to be British anyway, it’s like a rule or something. Giles would know.”
“You don’t have to be British.” She’d walked a little further into the room with her words, perhaps tempted by the coffee, her eyes fixing on the mugs on the table. “There’s lots of non British ones. They’re everywhere. Like vermin.”
“Right… about that coffee?”
“Sure. Coffee, three sugars.”
“Faith, would you mind?”
I’d known that she wasn’t offering to make the coffee, just asking and delegating. The Cordelia method of everything. It was impressive. And it worked. I’d gotten up and made a pot, brought the lot to the table along with fresh mugs. Somehow I’d had the feeling that we would be needing top ups, and I didn’t want to be moving every minute, playing housemaid.
Kennedy had still seemed unsure about whether to join us, edging closer but not happy to be taking a seat. In the end settling for grabbing her mug and going back to the doorframe, resting herself up against the wall. Keeping her distance.
“Ken, come on, you can chill with us, we want to help you…”
Again she had seemed so small. As if the only thing that she could ever want in this world, was for somebody to help her. Her mouth going to speak, and then catching herself, bringing her lips up to the mug and gulping furiously instead. I didn’t know what else to say, how else to try and calm her.
“Maybe if you told us what happened… we could…”
“When are the council coming?”
Cutting me off. And I didn’t have an answer. I knew that they were coming, but I hadn’t been paying attention to the specifics. I planned on being well under the radar by the time that they showed up, not one single part of me wanting to swap stares with those twisted fuckers. I had turned to Buffy, repeated the question with my eyes.
“I’m not sure. Giles said end of the week, today’s Thursday. Whenever it is, it’s bound to be soon…”
“I have to go.”
Her words had brought about a flurry of activity, four voices insisting that she had to stay, that we could help her, if only she would tell us what it was, what was wrong. And her voice insisting that she really had to go, couldn’t be here when they got here, they wouldn’t get their hands on her again. I was half tempted to clock her one, just to get the time to try and make her listen, my fists clenching at my sides the longer that she shook her head on all of our pleas.
“You can’t keep running forever Kennedy…”
Until finally Angel broke through. I should have guessed that it would be his calm and measured tones that finally managed to bring her eyes to a crashing stand still, centring on him as he spoke the truth.
“…whatever it is, no matter where you go, you won’t ever outrun it. We can help you to face it. We’re here for you now.”
It was the company line, but it was more than that. All of us nodding along to the solemn promise within his words. And it did make her stop and listen, yet it still didn’t make her accept what he was saying, her own words guarded with caution as she pierced him with her gaze.
“How do I know I can trust you?”
Such a simple question, and one that he couldn’t answer.
“The same way that we know we can trust you…” I had never in a million years expected Buffy to be the one that offered the ultimate olive branch out to Ken, but it had been her. Calling on the connection that she had spent the last few days trying so hard to deny. “…you’re one of us now Kennedy, surely you can feel it… the silent hum?”
She nodded her head slowly. Unsurely.
“That’s the bond, that’s our bond. The slayer bond. You can trust in it.”
I had wanted to jump B just a little right then, smother her body in kisses. But as it was, we just made room at the table as Kennedy made her tentative way forwards, still not looking comfortable, but at least she was taking the chance. The scraping of her chair against the tiled floor, drawing all of our eyes to her, making me release the long breath that I had been holding.
“So what’s the deal then slay girl? Why the big beef with the council?”
I’d just tossed it out, eager to know, to hear what the badness was. Nothing preparing me for her answer, for the pain that flashed so raw across her eyes, scarring her face. Her gaze dropping to the table, her fingers fussing about her nails. Torn nails.
“I was only eight when they came for me.”
“What..? Came for you? Who?”
“The mighty council. I was just turned eight, I lived with my family in Mexico, four sisters, three brothers… we had no idea who they were, what they were. They just rolled up one day outside of our home in their big flashy cars, nice cut suits. They spoke to my father… they told him that they could offer me so much more for life, that they could provide me with opportunity, that they could make me someone…” She still hadn’t raised her eyes back up, but right then, in that moment, she did, maybe trying to force home exactly what it was that she was about to say. “…and then they bought me. They paid my father for me with their shiny English pounds.”
“You are fucking kidding me!?”
“They BOUGHT you? Is that even legal?”
Me and Cordy had taken care of the shocked surprise, whilst B and Angel sat back silently shaking their heads. As for Kennedy, her head was only nodding, her eyes sad, confirming the first part in her fucked up twisted tale.
“It wasn’t so bad at first, I didn’t know why they wanted me, and the lifestyle was certainly different than what I was used to at home. I missed my family so bad, I didn’t understand why they had sent me away, I didn’t understand the value of money to a poor peasant family. I just tried to treat it like it was an adventure, They were kind to me, I got to mess around with all the weapons and shit…”
“I don’t understand though…” B had lent right forwards onto the table, pinning Kennedy down with her eyes. “…what on earth did the council want with an eight year old girl? Why would they… ‘buy’ you, it doesn’t make sense.”
“Tell me about it. I didn’t find out myself for years. They just told me that I was special, that I was to be a warrior, I would work with them to stem the bad…”
“When you were eight?”
“Right. When I was eight.”
I had known where Buffy’s confusion lay, mine was pretty much sitting in the same place, wondering how the fuck the council could have known what she was… how they could predict what she was going to be. It brought silence for a moment, bewildered glances being exchanged across the table top.
I’d had to ask, to query. “But how the fuck did they know? I don’t get…”
“Shaman.”
“Sha-who?”
“They had shaman, I don’t know… like wizards or something, they were trying to find all of the girls… they called them, they called ‘us’, the potentials…”
It was going from bad to worse. My already fuzzy head getting fuzzier by the minute. I listened to her reel off a list of names, a list of girls, others like her.
“So you’re telling me that not only did they nip into Mexico and pick up some tacos with a side order of eight year old, but they’ve been pulling that crap all over the world, unchecked, and for years?”
Her head was nodding again, confirming again. “What, you don’t believe me?”
How the fuck did I know?
I was saved from answering by the soft tones of Angel. Sitting back and just listening, finally forming a question. A valid question, one which hadn’t surfaced for me yet. I was still stuck on the disbelief of the council ripping girls from their homes, from their families.
“But what about Buffy and Faith, if the council really were doing this… then why not them, surely they were ’potentials’ too?”
And she’d answered him with a laugh. Seriously. The first time I had heard the sound from her mouth, and not at all when I’d been expecting it. Bringing about more uncertainty, maybe making me question her sanity after all.
“Well that was the beauty of it really. All those idiots in tweed, trying so hard to isolate the slayer line, and they just couldn’t get a fix on it… not a trace. They had their gang of potentials, but every time a new slayer was called, it was never one of us, it was never one of theirs…”
“Isolate the slayer line? What the fuck does that mean?”
I was fading fast. Nothing was making sense to me. My words had come out gruffer than I had intended, my confusion making me lose calm. And it had made her lose the laughter, lose the smiles. She had cast her eyes to me and then to Buffy, so slow, so cautious, her hands starting to fidget again on the table in front of her, the words no longer falling so freely from her lips.
“They wanted to stop the mistakes. They wanted to take back control.”
“Mistakes? What mistakes?”
Cordy asked, but I could’ve guess. I looked up at B and saw that she could guess too, imagining that we were just the kind of things that she was referring to, the mistakes that were missed. The look that Kennedy offered to us, had only confirmed it for me, the shady glance, the tapping toes.
“Don’t sweat it Ken, just spit it out. Me and B can take it, we’re big girls now.”
“Right. For years apparently they had been losing the power that they held over the slayers… maybe it was changing times, female empowerment, I don’t know. But whatever it was they didn’t like it. That’s why they started rounding up us girls, they wanted to get them young, make it so that they owned them, controlled them. I guess they figured that when one of us was called, it would be easy to take charge…” I had seen her eyebrows raise, recognised what she thought about being controlled.
“…and it only got worse as the years went on. I met girls older than me, girls that were tossed aside once they got too old to be called, times when we would sit and just fucking pray for the slayer to be killed so that one of us might get the call and make it better for everyone else… but it never happened.”
She looked up at Buffy then. Offered a shy smile, a timid smile.
“You know, I remember when you were called, I was only eleven, still too young myself… but I remember their anger. They were so damn enraged, all of their plans going wrong again…”
“They were… angry?”
“Yeah, you weren’t one of us, they hadn’t known about you…”
“But they were angry?”
I could see B getting angry herself. My eyes expecting to see the steam from the ears at any moment, watching her mentally count every single time that she had given something up to answer the calling. I reached my hand across the table to lay across hers, to calm her, because her anger was nothing compared to what I was growing deep inside, and I wanted to hear the rest… I wanted to hear it all.
“They got angrier. When you died and another was called and it still wasn’t one of us, then they were really pissed, they changed the regime. No more fancy smancy houses by the ocean for us… it was off to England, all of us kept together, training 24/7, no respite. They thought that we weren’t good enough, that we weren’t training hard enough, that it was our fault that we weren’t being picked, chosen.”
“But surely even the British aren’t dumb enough to forget that it’s the Powers That Be that determine selection?”
She looked at Cordy and shrugged her shoulders, silently insisting that maybe the British were just dumb. I wasn’t gonna argue.
“I don’t know what happened when you were called…” Her eyes meeting mine. “…but it made them even madder still. We heard the tales of ‘slayer gone bad’, then we heard that the original had turned her back on the council… it wasn’t fun times. A few of us had banded together to try and break free… we were tough, not slayer tough, and we were mostly still young, but we could sure hold our own…”
“What happened?”
“They locked us in a house full of demons and showed us again who was in charge. Seven of us made it out. We didn’t run again.”
“Holy fuck!” I know that my head had been shaking, I know that I wanted to hit something. “They locked you in a house full of demons?”
Her gaze had slunk back to the table, no more meeting eyes. Perhaps consumed by the horror that she had witnessed, still consumed by the fear of her memories. It was Buffy who had spoken up then, who had added her own example of houses with demons in;
“It happens Faith, believe me it happens. Did I ever fill you in on my eighteenth birthday bash?”
I had tried to remember. I remembered skipping from town when the day was fast approaching, not wanting to be here and overlooked again, not wanting to be reminded how much a part of her life that I wasn’t. But as for what I had missed, that was lot more sketchy, needing her to remind me again of how the council celebrates the coming of age of a slayer.
All of it was bullshit. All of it had me feeling so sick.
“They dismissed the shaman then, stepped up our training even more… there was a new force that they were using, something dark, something tainted. They took our blood and said that mistakes wouldn’t be happening anymore…” She looked directly at me again. “…they had plans to kill you.”
“Tried it twice, I didn’t much care for it.”
“No, not then… after. Last year. I remember hearing when you got out, it sent waves through the prison that we lived in. They called it a house, a home, but really it was a prison. I don’t know who started it, but your name was beginning to be whispered amongst us potentials that were left. You were everything that the council hated, and so you became everything that we worshipped. We weren’t praying for the slayer to die anymore, we were praying for the slayer to come… to free us all… to take down the council.”
“But I didn’t know…”
“Neither did we. We didn’t believe it either, but we had to believe in something.”
I was so fucking confused. Finding out I was some kind of damn folk hero to a bunch of girls that I didn’t even know existed. Finding out that I’d been earmarked for extermination yet again. Finding out that the council weren’t just full of shit, they were down right fucking evil.
“What happened then Kennedy? Obviously you have been called as the slayer…” Angel’s voice was still calm, no sign of the rage burning in his heart, that was burning so bright in mine. “…was it pure chance?”
“No. Not even close.”
“It wasn’t? Then how…”
“Magic, dirty twisted dark magic. They wanted the power so fucking bad, that they sold all of our souls down the river to get it. I told you they took our blood, right?”
We nodded our assent.
“Well they used our blood, got some fucking ugly warlock to do some weird spell, and then they made us drink it again…”
“They made you drink blood?”
Cordy raised her eyebrows at Kennedy’s ‘yes’. Tinkled out a shaky little laugh.
“Well that’s all kinds of ironic right? You guys are meant to stop the blood suckers, not jump on the gravy train.”
“You think that we wanted to! You think I wanted to drink it?!”
“Hey, calm down pint sized, I’m just saying…”
“Yeah Cor, ironic. Try more like fucking sick, fucking twisted…”
Luckily my choice of words had calmed our newest slayer back down. Enough for her to tell the rest of the tale. To give the ending to what was the craziest freaking story I’d truly ever heard. I mean, Jesus, I thought my own tale was fucked up… but this girl had that beat by miles. Millions of fucking miles.
“It was so surreal when it finally happened, it didn’t feel right… I swear my body tried to reject the power, like it wasn’t meant to be me. I was throwing up, shaking… but they were all just laughing, so damn jovial, congratulating each other on what a fine and dandy job they had done. I guess the spell worked, whatever they put in my blood, it made me a slayer. It gave me the power.”
“What about the others?”
“They got sick too, only they didn’t get the power surge to fight it off…”
“You mean…”
Her eyes were as hard as steel when they raised to meet mine. Something that I could recognise, so many defences. Everything that hurt, held back by something solid. Something to cling to.
“Yes, all of them, all of us… the folklore slayer was dead, and now they were gone too. I would have saved them, I would of freed them…”
“Hey, it’s alright, it’s not your fault.”
Buffy was closest to her, and so it was her hand that had reached out and tried to comfort, drawing back when Kennedy jumped, when she turned her hardened eyes and broken tones her way.
“I know it’s not my fault, it’s their fault. They killed them.”
I wanted to rewind time, to take it back to a place where I hadn’t heard this story, where I didn’t know this anger. Me and B had spent the last few hours locked in arguments over this connection, what the connection meant, and now it turned out that it meant a whole lot fucking more than even I had bargained on. I’d never considered myself before the power, never thought that I was already earmarked, already set up as a ‘potential’, but now knowing that there were these girls out there, all lined up in a pretty little row, just waiting for the council to come and pluck them from their lives… man I was pissed. I was so fucking pissed.
I could feel the edges of the table digging into my palms, could feel the fire in my belly growing fiercer by the second. For so long I had feared the council, the almighty fucking power that had deigned me to be worthless, had wanted to eradicate me… but all that I could feel then was the deepest desire to eradicate them. To take what they were, all that they stood for, and destroy it. We were the slayers for fucks sake, this was our god damned legacy, our calling, and maybe we didn’t always handle it so well, didn’t always make the best decisions, but Jesus… what they had done was unforgivable. Inhuman.
The waves which had been flooding my way from Buffy spoke of the same, her anger as palpable to me as my own, the hard set of her eyes not able to keep contact.
“I need to see Giles.”
Yeah. I’d forgotten about him.
“You think he knew B? You think that…”
“I hope not. For his sake, I really hope not.”
“Buffy wait…” Angel was still calm, still so fucking measured, calling her back from rising, making her sit again. “…think it through, you really believe that Giles would’ve known about this?”
“He’s a watcher, Angel. He has to know something.”
“He wouldn’t know this and not say something, he’s a good man.”
“If he’s council, then there’s no such thing… we all had watchers, men designated to care for us, to train us… you think that they cared what happened to us? You think that any of them stood up for us?”
We knew that the answer was no. Her story had already proven that.
“Can I just ask, what happened, after… with you here, what happened?”
The way that she looked as she’d turned towards Cordy was god damn scary, flashing something that if I hadn’t of known the details, I might have called rogue. I would have called dangerous.
“I killed as many as I could and I ran. They came after me, I killed more… I’ve been running for weeks. Now I’m here.”
“But why here?”
“Buffy Ann Summers.” She turned her frightful look towards my girl then. “I had to know if you were one of them, I thought that the other slayer was dead… I had to know if I was alone. If I was fighting alone.”
“You’re not alone Kennedy. We’re fighting this one together.”
That time she didn’t flinch at Buffy’s touch. She smiled. Kind of. Her head nodding, her gaze raising to meet mine as I spoke out my words.
“I’m not dead, by the way.”
“I get that now, but with the power… I assumed that you were. I didn’t expect to find you both here, I didn’t understand what it meant, it’s why, with the hiding…”
“It means we have this real uncanny knack of not staying dead. It also means you’ve got two kick ass slayers on your side now. The council won’t touch you again, you have my word on it.”
And she smiled again. Kind of.
As for what we were actually going to do, that was a little more shaky. No ones words filling a void that wasn’t comfortable. Just sitting and stewing, stoking the flames of fury as we went over in our heads, all that had been told to our ears.
“I’m going home, I have to see Giles…”
“Buffy.”
“No Angel, you can say what you want, but I need to see him, I need to know… and even if he doesn’t know, then he sure as hell needs to. God, we have the council due any day now, I can’t…”
“It’s cool B. I’ll come with, Kennedy too… I think they all need to hear what the score is, what the council stands for…”
“Damn it!”
Cordy’s violent shout had stopped me in my tracks, demanding that all of our attention be turned her way.
“I just knew I wasn’t gonna make the darn manicure, ‘don’t worry, it’s not big stuff, just slayer stuff…’, ha frickin ha!”
“Sorry Cor, it’s not like I knew.”
“Uh-huh, whatever. Yet again the slayers are the centre of the universe, I’m used to it.”
She smiled to match her jokey tones, her unmanicured fingers reaching out to the coffee pot, and then pulling away again as she realised that it was cold. No one remembering to fill their cups amongst the story telling of the last hour.
“I vote that we all head to Buffy’s, call Xander and have him pick up the donuts and coffees on the way. It’ll be just like old times, only newer, and with yet another slayer to add to the mix.”
And it was the way that we all headed, the plan that we made. Buffy made a call home to round up the girls and Giles, making sure that they were up and about and that the council hadn’t rolled into town in our absence. Then she secured the Xander side of things, insisting that he bring refreshments for everyone, smiling as she held the rant filled reply away from her ear. As for me, I was buzzing again. A completely different kind of buzz.
They had hunted me like a fucking dog, coming after me with their guns and their helicopters, letting me know that I was nothing, that I was less than nothing. And all of that time, every single fucking minute that I had spent locked inside of my own prison, killing myself with the knowledge that I hadn’t been good enough, never good enough… they had been this. Damn right it had me buzzing. It was about Buffy too, the way they had treated her, the things that she had told me… and now it had become about Kennedy. The worst fucked up story I had ever heard.
They wanted the power so bad, they wanted our power so bad, and I was damn well ready to give it to them. I could not wait to give it to them.
“I really can’t, I just…” Giles’ glasses were in his hand, his head shaking, his words not as forthcoming as they usually were. “…it’s bloody well.., I don’t…”
“Breathe Giles, I know it’s hard to hear, but it’s the truth.” I was close to telling him to get a grip, dangerously close to shaking him hard. He was a watcher, he was Buffy’s watcher for fucks sake, and a part of me felt that he should have known, he should have done something. “Turns out that your glorious council are really nothing more than low down murderers, it’s quite a reality check, right?”
“I can’t.., are we sure… do we know..?”
“Of course we fucking know!” I threw my hand out to point at Kennedy, the girl cowering on the sofa. “Didn’t you hear what she said, didn’t you listen?”
“Faith, calm down…”
“Don’t tell me calm Angel, don’t damn well tell me to be calm!” he stood up and faced me, his bulk not intimidating me, but the look in his eyes quieting my rage. “How do you expect me to be calm..?”
“We’re all angry, but losing your cool isn’t going to help anyone, we need to think this through…”
Giles’ head was still shaking. “I still can’t believe it.”
“Well you had better start.” Buffy stood before him in the same way that Angel had stood before me, her bulk never enough to intimidate, but her power speaking volumes. She’d accused him earlier, when we had first walked through the door, speaking even before Kennedy had had the chance to divulge her tale again, fast fired questions attacking his easy demeanour, demanding that he didn’t know… pleading that he didn’t know.
“Buffy…”
“No Giles. No reasoning, no placation. You’ve heard it all, you know it all… either you’re with us, or you’re with them, there’s no in between anymore.” I made my way over to stand at her side, going round Angel, taking my place. “You either believe it or you don’t, you’re with us or you’re not?”
My breath caught in my throat as his eyes clouded behind his newly replaced glasses, as his gaze fell upon her and then on me, his head turning to travel to Kennedy, weighing up her words again. I could only imagine what was going through his mind, the horror of it all, the betrayal.
The sigh that left his lips as his decision was made, was nothing less than heartfelt… maybe all of his own years of service reduced to mean nothing more than the blowing out of breath from tired lips. “You know that you don’t have to ask Buffy, I will always stand by your side, no matter if it is against the council, against anyone.” he stepped forwards to offer his arms to her, to offer himself to her. “Whatever you want to do, I am behind you one hundred percent.”
I watched as she folded herself into his embrace, the smile that lit her features. “Thank you, it means a lot to hear it.”
It was a nice moment, but it couldn’t last. “I still don’t get how the fuck this was going on, and no one knew a damn thing about it, you didn’t know, Wes didn’t know, someone had to know!”
His shoulders shrugged at me as he pulled himself back from Buffy, “I certainly never heard anything more than a whisper. Back before I was assigned as Buffy’s watcher, there was some idle talk of tracking down…” He glanced at Kennedy on the sofa, “…potentials?”
“Yeah, that’s right, potentials.”
Her return glance wasn’t kind.
“But I have always assumed it was a fruitless expedition. They wanted to begin the training younger to make the slayers more proficient…”
“That’s crap!” Giles’ words had Kennedy rising fast from the sofa. “They wanted to control the slayers! They didn’t care a bit about proficiency as long as it was them that was holding the reins.”
“Well I don’t know about that,” His glasses were in his hands again, fumbling again. “I never heard it mentioned in the capacity of controlling…”
She was in his face before he knew it, her power towering above him. “You think they took me from my home at EIGHT YEARS OLD to make me more proficient?!”
“I don’t…” I watched him cower back, and I watched Buffy step between them. I could have stepped between them myself, but to me she had a point. How dare he try and trivialise what had happened to her?
“I say we all calm down. Kennedy, I understand you’re upset, and I told you that you weren’t alone in that, but I won’t tolerate a shouting match with my friend,” She gestured behind her to Giles as she kept her eyes firm on Kennedy. “Giles may be a watcher, he may be with the council, but he is my friend, first and foremost he is one of us.”
It diffused the situation for that moment, our newest ‘chosen one’ sneering out her disapproval and returning to the sofa. Still fizzing, still agitated, but prepared to listen to B, to accept her word.
“Tell us everything you know Giles, anything that you know?”
“That’s just it Buffy, I truly don’t know anything. Whatever it was that they were doing or hoping to achieve, I haven’t heard word of it in years. That’s why this is all so hard to take in…”
“You wanna try living it asshole.”
“Kennedy!”
Then I did take my turn to be firm. Happy to give her some leeway, but not happy to hear insults. Giles had said he didn’t know, and for Buffy that was enough. Kennedy would have to accept it as enough for her as well. As would I.
Her eyes were burning as they held mine, eventually dropping, her posture changing, “I’m sorry, I’ll be… good.”
“I ain’t saying you have to be good, I’m just saying the mouth, watch it.” I smiled when she peeped back up. “Save the fire for the scum that deserve it, everyone in this room is an ally, not an asshole.”
I tried to ignore Andrew sitting in the corner. He was an asshole.
“Do we know anything about the spell that they used?”
“Dunno Red, Ken?”
“You think they explained it to us?” She was shaking her head as she replied. “We were just the end result, they didn’t give specifics.”
“It would have to be pretty powerful magic, maybe tapping into the source…” I watched as Willow and Tara conferred amongst themselves, as good as speaking a foreign language. “We could probably do it I think, a locater spell with a twist.”
“When you say source, are you talking freaky chick in the desert source, cos last time we did that, there were all sorts of consequences.”
“No Xander, no freaky chicks.” I watched as Willow turned her eyes from him, to Kennedy. A small smile settling on her impish little face, maybe some mischief glowing in her eyes. “I think I could do it by tapping into Kennedy, she’s the source.”
Her words had brought about a silent tension in the enclosed space of the room, not bad tension, not the kind that spells danger, but the kind that crackles. A tension that had Kennedy walking her way to stand in front of Willow, had the fear slipping from her eyes to be replaced with something else. Something electric.
“You wanna ‘tap into’ me?”
“I uh… I meant, when I said… ‘tap’, I um… I meant magic.”
“I bet you did.”
It was all there. In her posture, in her tone, the self assured slant of her hips. There was no doubting what our new girl was; a hot chick with super powers. A damn hot chick with super powers.
“I was so right!” Anya’s gleeful shout cut a swathe through the silence that had accompanied Kennedy’s pose, “I knew it, I told you Xander, I knew it!”
“You knew what honey?”
“Them, the slayers, all of them… their gay!”
That’s right. Anya had sliced the tension to re-embark upon her all slayers are gay theory. No matter that I was waiting to see just how flushed Willow’s cheeks could get, whether Tara would speak up and stake her claims, whether Kennedy was gonna manage to get any hotter in the few seconds that followed. Nope. She just ruined the fun to make her pointless point.
“I thought I saw her looking at me when she came in,” She was still talking, still dissipating tension of the exciting kind. “and now I know. She’s a lesbian, she fancies me.”
“An, maybe…”
“No Xander, it’s quite alright. I’m not about to leave you to go running off and join the lady lover’s club, but I don’t mind her looking. It’s like window shopping…”
“You what?”
Kennedy’s voice came out as high as I had heard it, like a drawn out scream. Her posture dropping hot, to bring about cold, her eyes hiding the come hither, to send instead messages of go wither. “You think that I ‘fancy’ you?”
“It’s perfectly understandable, no need to act shy.”
“Believe me, I do NOT have a hankering for anything you’ve got, I like my ladies a little more…”
She flicked her gaze again to Willow, cutting out Tara, cutting out anyone other than the one that her eyes were penetrating. “…magical. A little more sexy.”
Oh wow. She was good.
It was bad.
It was as if Kennedy had Red pinned to the sofa, all with the strength of her stare, forcing her to stay rigid, the colour to settle so fierce upon her cheeks. My own gaze shot to Buffy, to Cordy, to Tara, to everyone… all of their expressions the same. Bewildered, bemused, yet entranced.
In fact the only one not under the spell of the tension was Anya. Her words working again to break a moment that was steadily becoming uncomfortable.
“Willow may be more magic, but I am definitely more sexy. Tell her Xander, tell her!”
“Huh? Yeah…” I had wanted to wipe away his drool. “…sexy.”
“Xander!”
“What?! I agreed, I said sexy!”
“I think that is quite enough now thank you Xander, if we could just get back to the subject matter please?”
“Me? What did I do?”
“Just hush, we still have important things to discuss.”
But Giles had lost me then. I tuned myself out on Willow’s shaky words of magic spells, on Buffy’s impassioned little speech about how we would sever all links with the council forever, for all slayers. My attention was focused in one place, on one girl. Watching as Kennedy kept her eyes trained solo on Red, the depth of her stare, the heat that she was radiating. I swear I almost licked my lips at one point, not able to ignore so much blatant fuck appeal on show right before me. I wouldn’t encourage it, I was already planning my speech to Ken about our resident witchy lovers, but for that moment I allowed myself to observe it. To observe her.
It was as if she had thrown away the desire to be scared, and replaced it with nothing but the desire to acquire, to possess. It was a feeling I remembered well, a feeling that could bring about a whole lot of unwelcome destruction.
I’d shook myself out of my haze as the speaking was winding down to a standstill, catching Tara’s worried eyes as I slinked my gaze around the room. What could I do? I could only wink to reassure her, silently telling myself that I would definitely be reigning our new charge in. It was a shame. Kennedy obviously needed the distraction, her eyes blazing as they had settled on Red, but I would talk to her. Would warn her away from what she couldn’t have.
“Earth to Faith, come in Faith…”
I guess my haze had settled about me again as I’d been considering the talk I would have to have with Ken, not noticing that B was getting eager for my attention.
“What’s up?”
“I’m beat. The others are gonna get on with the researchy style stuff, and I’m gonna grab some shut eye whilst I can. You care to join me?”
Already the witches had begun opening up books and firing up the computer, Xander pulling faces as Giles directed him towards which texts he would like to cross reference, Cordy and Angel doing their best to make themselves useful to the usual suspects.
“What about me, you expect me to hang around and read books, you think I care what magic it was?”
“Ken…”
“No Faith, they used and abused me and now I wanna kick ass, not read fucking mumbo jumbo magic bullshit!”
I had no answer, so I had let Buffy answer. Her hand slipping into mine, her voice steady and secure.
“I don’t like the reading either Kennedy, go down to the basement, get some training in, then maybe when I’m rested I’ll come down and kick your ass.”
“You think you can?”
“Sure I can, now go. Angel will work with you if you need him to, or Giles.” She narrowed her eyes then as she spoke. “No going crazy on my watcher though! I get the deal with the council, I do… but no killing of family friends.”
“Sure thing, I’ll just practice for when ‘his’ friends get here.”
And that was that. I switched off. No more thinking about all that we had learned, all that we now knew about our heritage. About Kennedy, about the worry of the witch watching and unwanted attractions. I just wanted a little sleep. I just wanted a little Buffy.
Chapter 39.
POV Buffy.
I wasn’t sure that my legs were going to carry me up the stairs. I was so damn exhausted, so damn tired, so still wishing for a break in the hard times. I was more than a little tempted to ask Faith to carry me, but from the look in her eyes I could see that she was just as weary as me, just as ready to crash, and just as prepared to keep wishing for better times.
Everything that we have learned today, everything that we have heard, it’s just… god, it’s just so screwed up. I have always believed that the council were pompous assholes, but the realisation that they are girl abducting, murdering scum, well, it’s a little hard to take. It’s something that we shouldn’t have to take. It’s something that I am determined that no girl of ours is ever going to have to take again. And when I say ‘ours’, I mean ours.
It’s amazing how much things can change in just a few hours. Only yesterday I would have given anything to isolate the slayer line myself, to make me and Faith the only slayers ever, to cocoon the two of us inside of a bond that no one else could ever lay claim to. But then of course I had heard Kennedy’s story. Now I would stake my life to protect hers, I would stake my life to protect every single girl out there that the council wants to list as a potential. Potential what? Dog meat? Not a chance. It will not be happening again. Ever again.
A sigh that sounds a thousand years old breaks from my lips and my eyes travel up to the mirror to bear witness to the sadness that sits there. I know the silent question that pokes my consciousness, the reason that I’m stood solitary in the bathroom when Faith awaits my presence in the bedroom.
Why the hell should I keep risking my life and the lives of those I love, to save a world that barely seems worthy of saving?
I can fight demons, I can slice and dice demons, I can take on demons all damn night and day if I have to. Because I am the slayer, because they are inhuman, because they are evil. But my god, how is it that the worst forms of evil reside within the very life forms that we are trying so hard to protect, to save? I have never witnessed anything as bad as human evil. So much of it. And all of it so damn base, the very depths of a depravity that I can not even bring myself to imagine.
I don’t want to list examples, to begin a count that is never ending, but I can’t stop the faces from floating unbidden in front of my eyes. Warren of course, his manic laughter now a soundtrack for my every sweat stained nightmare, but so many more than him. The Mayor, Ted, Ethan Rayne, Amy’s mum, Fritz the murdering computer nerd, Pete the steroid popper, Maggie Walsh and her whole messed up initiative…
My head pounds as the list continues to grow. All different sorts of people, all from different places, all proving that the human spirit is capable of producing mayhem and misery just as well as any hell driven beast. It’s depressing. It’s almost soul destroying. It makes my eyes water even as I splash cool liquid to my face to refresh my tiredness. Is the world really worth all the saving? Is my calling really as important as it may sound?
“Hey B, you got lost in there?”
And now the mirror reflects the smile that slinks to my lips as her voice rings heavy through the door. Damn right this world is worth saving.
“Just freshening up, I’m almost done .”
Self pity is not a look I like to favour so much anymore, and thinking through the bad times is a guarantee that the self pity will be on the way. So instead I remember good times. The people that face the bad without the power to kill demons with a flick of the wrist. People like Tara, like Xander, Jenny Calender, Riley… I only have to look at the face of my baby sister to see the human spirit at it’s best. People that would do my job without ever having filled out an application form. It’s heartening, and I like the feeling a whole lot more than the other. I like the smile so much more than the frown.
“Serious Buffy, I need to pee, you want me to spring a leak on the carpet?”
“Only if you’re going to clean up after.”
I turn and flick the lock, open the door to see her standing with her legs crossed and not looking at all impressed with me.
“Halle-freaking-lujah!”
“Sorry, I was…”
“Yeah, freshening up, I got that.”
I smile at her pained expression as she pushes past me through the door, already tearing at the buttons on her jeans, popping her fly and exposing her ass. I could joke about her lack of dignity, but instead I just chuckle and leave, pulling the door closed behind me. Everything about that girl makes my world worth saving.
In the bedroom she has pulled the blinds to stop the sun from shining through, has puffed up the pillows that I left in a despondent heap and made my Bostonian checks sit all orderly again. Making the bed the place to be, making me yawn as I realise again just how tired I am. It’s no more than a myth that slayers don’t feel tiredness the same way as everybody else does, I spend half of my life feeling absolute exhaustion, but always there is something there to call me on, to assure me that rest is second best, that everything else is much more urgent. Well not now, not at this moment. Now I need to rest, to recuperate, to prepare for the battle that faces us next. Faith returning to the room only makes the moment more complete.
“You made the bed.” I state the obvious as I let myself flop down atop the covers, beckoning gently with my hand for her to come and join me.
“Don’t get used to it, my Marcia Brady days are officially over, I was just killing time whilst you were getting fresh. Hell, if you’d taken any longer I’d have been tempted to get friendly with the vacuum cleaner.”
“Sorry, I was… you know. Thinking.”
Her eyes take on a serious note as she sits herself down next to me, a sigh as large as any I have found slipping from the grim set of her lips.
“I bet I can guess what about.”
And I bet that she is right. The council’s crimes are not just crimes against me, they are crimes against her, crimes against everything that our legacy stands for.
“It’s too much to take in, isn’t it?”
“Sure is B, whoever would’ve thought it?” Her head is shaking, and I can feel her body shaking too, sending out the silent vibes of anger that have encased her fully since Kennedy first stuttered out her tortured tale. “Makes you wonder what the fucking point is.”
“I know.” Because I have been wondering. She lays her body back until we are resting side by side, our eyes fixed solely on the ceiling above us. “I always realised that they were full of crap, but I at least thought that they were on our side, fighting with us.”
“And yet now we get that they’re against us. Me I can understand.” She turns her head to face me, rolls her eyes to acknowledge her past. “But you B, that’s just bullshit.”
“No Faith, all of it is bullshit.”
We slip into a stretched silence as we consider exactly how crap infested it really is. It’s a situation that I wouldn’t ever have believed if I hadn’t heard it first hand from a survivor. And the fact that they had the audacity to label Kennedy as rogue and request for us to catch her and turn her back over to them, it’s completely freaking nuts. It shows just how untouchable they believe they are, how invincible, how powerful.
They do not understand the first damn thing about power.
“Do you think that Ken’s gonna be okay?”
I set aside my pondering to answer her question, thoughts flashing to the girl that I had sent to spar with Giles. Hoping that Angel would take up the call instead.
“I’m certain that she will. Kennedy’s a survivor Faith, she’s a slayer.”
“But you know as well as I do B, that slaying don’t always make the world a bright and fuzzy place. The girls been through a fuck of a lot, it might take time.”
It might. But then I had seen the quick change that possessed her when her gaze had been determined in it’s possessing of Wills. Kennedy has a whole lot of spirit left in reserve, I am completely sure of that. And speaking of…
“Did you get the way that she was checking out Wills?”
“Did I get it?” Her chuckle makes a nice break from the sighs. “I was damn near scorched by it! That girl has one wicked hot vibe working for her.”
“You think that Tara noticed?”
“I know that Tara noticed.” And that does make me a little weary again. I know how I would feel if Kennedy’s look had been directed at Faith. It would not be good. My blow of breath has her turning onto her side to face me, her fingers reaching out to fiddle with the base of my top, stretching my mind in two directions at once. “Don’t worry about it B, I’ll talk to Ken, tell her how it is.”
I nod acceptance as her touch centres around my navel, dipping softly into my belly button. The pace of my breathing increasing to match the steady flutter of my heart.
“Do you think it’ll be enough? Cos I’m thinking that there’s a girl that doesn’t want to follow any orders, that’s had enough of being controlled.”
Her eyes have dipped from mine to follow the lazy path of her hand, as if she is mesmerised by the slow and simple way that she is touching me. I know that I am.
“It’ll be fine, trust me.”
I don’t get a chance to answer, because in the moment that I would’ve told her that I trust her with everything, she is pulling herself up and away from me. An instant shift of mood. Running her hands through her hair, letting out a yawn that belies the exhaustion that she feels too.
“You tired baby?”
“Fucking beat and fading fast.” She taps a finger against the side of her head. “Too much shit to process B, I just wanna sleep for like a week.”
“Shame we don’t have a week.” Her mouth downturns and she stifles another yawn, starts pulling her sleep clothes out of my drawer. And I like her clothes in my drawer. It’s a thought that niggles the thing in my mind that I have been meaning to say to Faith for days. Right now is not the time though, not yet. “We do have a few hours, maybe two, possibly three. It’s not a week, but it’s a start.”
“Wow, a whole three?” She rolls her eyes again, showing disapproval.
“It’s better than nothing.”
My heart is still fluttering as her hands remove the clothes from her body, unearthing with each layer the ultimate prize in living. That which keeps my world spinning. In some circles they might call it lecherous, the way that my eyes are reaching out to possess every inch of flesh that she bares to me, the way that my tongue is darting out to moisten my drying lips, but I don’t care. After everything, after all of the horror stories that I have heard, there is nothing which means as much to me as losing the reek of depravity in the fresh smell of Faith.
“You’re looking pretty good there.” It’s an understatement of course, but it’s a statement that sneaks out from my lips without much forethought. Making her give me a puzzled little frown, then a smirk, then a smile.
“I try my hardest.” Her arms are stretching up above her head as she turns her back to me, showing the hard pronunciation of muscles, the soft cover of skin. And I want her. I want to feel how good she looks.
“Come here Faith.” It comes out throaty, making her turn towards me, her top for sleeping still in hand, her body naked before me. I’m definitely lecherous. Mark it down as my bad habit.
“One sec yeah, I’ll just throw these on.”
And did she miss the point?
“That’s okay, you won’t need them.”
I watch as her chest puffs out, her breasts seeming to strain for my touch as she draws in a deep breath, lets out a low sigh. “I’m fucked B, would you mind if we…”
She trails off on her words and I’m guessing that it’s because of the shocked look on my face. I mean, this IS Faith right? My Faith, the Faith who assured me that she couldn’t be with me and not want me every minute of every day. Today is a day, this is a minute, and what the heck is going on?
“Faith?”
“It’s nothing, I just…” Her hands slip the top over her body, reaching out to grab at the shorts. “…I’m so freaking exhausted, and this whole screwed up sitch is spinning my head something crazy.”
Mine too. But still.
“You don’t want to?”
I await her words but they do not come. All that comes is a heartbreaking look. Just a flash, just for a moment, the veil of sadness wrapping tight around her eyes, her expression locked in pain. And then gone. Eyes fixed, gaze empty.
“Faith?” I call her name again, I want to know what’s hurting her.
“It’s not about the wanting B, you know how much I want.” She does the eyebrows thing for me, the lift and the wiggle, yet I can’t help but feel that it’s only done for effect. That it’s part of a practiced routine, a camouflage. “There’s just so much crap in my head right now, things that I thought I knew, things that I didn’t know…”
The pain flashes fast again, usurping the pretence of sexy. And I rise. Of course I damn well rise. Standing in front of her as she ties the top to the bed shorts, waiting for her to find the words to unload on me.
“All the time I was here and thinking I was crap, and yet there was a whole heap of girls out there toasting my existence, waiting around for me to come rescue them, believing in me. It’s insane...”
Oh Faith.
“And now they’re dead, just like that. All because the council wanted our power, all because the council are a bunch of sick and twisted fuckers. I just can’t stop thinking that if I’d known…”
“No.” I will not let her persecute herself for the faults of others. She persecutes herself enough for the things that have been done by her own hand, and there is no way on earth that she is taking any of the fall for the evil of others. I will not allow it. No way. “Stop that line of thought right now, there is nothing you could have done, no one knew, end of story.”
“Just like that B?”
“Faith, it’s not that simple. Don’t think I’m dismissing it… but god, surely you don’t think that any of it’s your fault, it’s their fault. It’s like Kennedy said; The council killed them.”
She nods and I think I have her, cushioning her fall with the truth.
“I could have saved them though… if I’d known.”
“Not could have Faith, would have. But you didn’t know, we didn’t know.” Her hand strays up to run through her hair and I make a grab for it, bringing it down to rest at our sides. “You died saving the whole damn world, you can’t save everyone, you know that, we both know that.”
I should probably carve those words into stone. A constant reminder for both of us.
“Can we just go to bed Buffy, no more talking?”
“No, you can’t just go to bed.” Her questioning eyes lock into mine, and I set myself to work. Knowing how she feels, recognising and accepting the fleeting feelings of failure that comes with being a slayer. More than anything though I remember how she always makes me feel better when I am sliding low, how she makes me smile through all of the hard times. I smile for her now. “I’m not letting my girl go to sleep with the thoughts all morose, it’s not happening.”
“It’s not?”
“Damn right it’s not!” I make it so that I stand as close to her as I can, so she can feel the steady rhythm of my heart beating in my chest, the warmth of my body calling out to her. “Look over there Faith, what do you see?”
It’s been done a couple of times before and now I’m praying that it can be done again. Everyday we fight, and way too often we lose the things that are precious to us. There is no greater refuge from that than a few moments of blessed sanctuary, time to stand still and to breathe, to smile at the things that are good. Faith showed me that, and it is only fair that I show her the same.
“What do I see?”
She follows the point of my finger to the bedroom door, and just for a second I worry that she doesn’t want to stand still right now, doesn’t want to breathe with me.
“Yes Faith,” I lean up to kiss her softly, just a nibble, a tiny trip of tongue that slides across the cleft in her lower lip. “Tell me what you see?”
“I see the door.”
Her voice has embraced a husky whisper for me, her eyes opening up to see the same things which I see. And so I launch into my speech, the same kind of words which saved us before.
“Right, a door.” I smile, and she smiles. “Beyond that door is a whole lot of bad things, the bumpy in the night things, the bumpy in the day things. Demons, people…” Her eyes harden again on that word, and so I skip forwards, my hand coming up to trace the line of her jaw, warming inside as she leans her face into my touch. “…but in here Faith, in here it’s just you and me, just a few minutes when nothing else can touch us, when all that matters is this. Is us.”
Her forehead is touching mine, her nose grazing, her breath settling sweet on my lips. “I love you B.”
“I know you do.” I lift my fingers to trace her face again, the outline of her smile. “Now let me make love to you?”
She steps back on my words and hands me the reins, lifting her arms as I remove the clothes that I swore she wouldn’t need, standing there submissively as I slide the shorts down her legs, feet kicking out to send them skidding across the floor. And she is still so breathtakingly beautiful. A beauty that makes me ache to touch her, to possess and caress her, to please her. I let my lips claim hers in a kiss which has nothing at all to do with softly, but everything to do with passion, the heat of her skin raising my temperature, engulfing myself in everything that she makes me feel.
“I want you.” Again stating the obvious, but needing for it to be said.
Her answering sigh of approval is enough to make me pop the button on my own pants, desperate to feel her flesh sitting snugly against my skin, desperate to wash away every feeling of the bad with touches that are born from love.
“You need a little help there?”
Her voice is husky as hell, and a jolt of pure electricity fizzes through my system as her fingers slide to the soft skin that sits underneath the restriction of my fly, popping the last of the buttons for me, edging material slowly over my hips.
“I thought I was being the seductress Faith.”
“I’m seduced,” I don’t doubt the sexy in her smile now. “Just returning the favour.”
I wiggle my legs to encourage my pants to fall the rest of the way to the ground, stepping away from them, lifting my arms to allow Faith to undress me fully, sighing contentedly as her fingers make deft work of the clasp to my bra.
Beautiful, is what she says to me, and I love that we feel the same. I arch my back to bring my breasts close to her hovering lips, shivering as she places just the smallest of kisses to my chest, her tongue teasing me into tauntness with the way it flicks so fleetingly across me.
“You ready for bed now?” I try for an angelic smile, stepping back from her lips and extending my hand.
“You bet I am.”
Her answering smile shoots way past angelic and heads straight for hungry instead, forgoing my hand to wrap her arms around my waist, directing me towards the bed that I had offered. Every single point of contact is buzzing with deep anticipation, knowing what is coming, the things which are going to occur. I open my legs as we fall to the bed, bringing her down to nestle in close between my thighs, my hips rising to make sure that she knows exactly what I want. I want to feel her close to me, I want every sad and bad thought exiled from our systems and replaced with the thoughts all happy. I want the smiles to stay put by themselves for a while.
The rhythm that she strikes up against me is one I am beginning to know so well, the teasing touch as she lowers her pussy so gently down to mine as if she is giving me the faintest kiss hello. Always that first touch making me moan in the sweetest way. My hands know the right way to play now as well, like a game, reaching around her body to find a grip on the firmness of her ass, trying to insist that she pushes harder against me, demanding that she speeds up her lazy ministrations to slide her pussy tight against my own.
“You wanting something B?”
Her lips curving into a devilish grin as she keeps all pressure light, so god damn barely there. My clit absolutely throbbing in almost protest as she tickles herself so slightly against me…“Damn right I do.”
I utilise my strength to reverse our positions, flipping her off and over, the look on her face making me let out a small tinkle of laughter, “What’s the matter Faith, you don’t like being a bottom?”
I know that she loves it every way, but it is such fun to tease her. And it is more than fun to be the one on top. Looking down at her spread beneath me and knowing that everything is going to be okay. As long as I have her, everything will be fine.
“I thought you said making love B, not the bucking bronco.”
“I didn’t buck you, I flipped you…” I lean down and kiss her full lips, delighting in the hot wetness I find there. “…and now I’m going to fuck you.”
It’s like a whisper slipping from my lips as I pull away from her, but I know that she heard me loud and clear. Her eyebrows raising as if to say, oh you are, are ya?, and my nod assuring that yes, I definitely am.
I slide my hands slowly along her arms, bringing them up above her head, positioning her body the way that I like it. Her breasts sit so damn magnificent this way, all strained and reaching, the darkness of her nipples shining like a beacon to my eyes. To my mouth. Blowing a breeze across her skin to see if I can make them stand more firm. She makes a noise that sounds like ‘tickles’, and I take it as a call to go further. My tongue reaching out to trace an outline, my lips close behind to suck her fully into my mouth.
I feel as her hands slip into my hair, pulling me closer, losing my mind as her husky tones set light to my ears. “I need you Buffy.” And I know that she does.
My mouth setting the pace as it slides from one breast to take possession of the other, wrapping so tight around each nipple, lips sucking, tongue flicking. My hands no longer laying dormant, but reaching down between us to stroke patterns across her navel.
“You like that baby?”
I follow up the question by inviting my tongue to take the same journey as my hands, her sighs replacing words as I leave a saliva trail across her tummy. Such a pretty trail to take. I can feel her directing me downwards with the fist that’s tightened in my hair, opening my eyes to see her head tilted back and her other hand wrapping tight in my favoured Boston checks. And down is the only way to go. Kissing the soft skin that marks the passing of navel into hips, my fingers caressing the smooth flesh of inner thighs as I implore her to open up to me. Desire demanding that I consume her.
My own body reacts as if it is me who is being made love to, every stroke I give echoing against my own skin, my moans of pleasure every bit a match for hers. And I know that I could die happy drowning in the taste of Faith. Starting with just the slightest of nibbles against her clit, my tongue sliding along the inside of her lips until I’m met with the wetness that pools at the entrance to her pussy. So damn silky, musky with a flavour I have loved since the first time. And I want to be inside of her. My arms wrapping around her legs as I spread her body even wider for me, pulling them apart so I can reach my tongue right to the very depths of her. Pushing deeper, pulling harder. Urging that she rides against my face with every ounce of fiery passion that I know she possesses.
She might be saying, that’s it B, she might be saying, that feels so fucking good, but all that I can hear is the explosions in my ears. Faith’s thighs wrapping tight to insulate my senses, overpowering any need I had to pull her legs apart. And I love this. The thumping of my heart a steady back rhythm to the urgent thrusting of my tongue. And I know that she loves it too. Even without the hearing, I know that she loves it.
My eyes are flickering open every second to witness the looks that shoot across her face. One minute her own eyes clenching shut with the same tightness she uses to keep a hand in my hair, the next second her eyes flying open to meet with mine. Spreading wide as she catches my gaze, trying to lift up and witness all that she is feeling. And then dropping again. My tongue twisting to push even deeper, my arms tightening to pull even harder. Wanting to give her my all, to give her everything.
I think it is that thought that pushes me to move my hands from her thighs to give her more, my left staying there to keep her firmly against my face, but the other tripping away to bring the pleasure to the next notch, not wanting to tease, just aiming fast to please.
“Fuck B…”
And I heard that one. Her hips rising violently as I slide a finger deep inside of her, all so wet for me, all because of me. And now I can watch her properly. Just for a moment. A second of respite for my tongue as I let my fingers fuck her fast. First one, and then two, curving up to stroke inside with each thrust of my hand. I swear it feels like my heart may just jump from my chest as she looks at me this time, propping herself up on her elbows to stop from falling straight back down again.
Never have I seen anything that looks so deliciously hot as she does in this minute. Her body flushed and shining, her pupils dilated with want. Her hair sitting mussed and wild about her face. And the absolute clincher is the sight I see when my eyes drop her gaze to centre on the fingers which are buried inside of her pussy. It feels as if my very soul is on fire for her.
I watch as I slide my fingers slowly out of Faith, feeling the tingles through my body as I witness the way her juices have coated them. So smooth and sticky, my toes curling against the bed as I thrive on the power that she gives me. The way she makes me feel.
She moans my name and I return to her gaze. Still propped on elbows, still boring straight into me, more power, more tingles. And I know what she wants. Of course I do. I keep her stare as I bring my fingers up to my lips, fixing a naughty glint to my eyes as I slide them straight inside of my mouth, lapping up all that she left there. Making my own moans to compliment the taste of her on me.
“You are so fucking hot B.”
Again we are feeling the same.
Her hips are still moving in rhythm against the air, no pressure, no friction, and I know that I’m being cruel, but I just love it when she watches me like this. The thrill that catches in her eyes as she loses her self to the sight of me fucking her. It has me dropping my hand again, one last lick before sliding them back to base. Faith’s legs opening even further as she shifts her seat to watch properly. Our own private show.
One day we will have mirrors on the ceilings, mark my words.
I move my body to match her own movements, following her across the bed until she is sat almost up against the headboard, me on my knees between her legs and just sliding so slowly in and out of her. Letting her see, letting her hear how much I fucking love being inside of her, every breath punctuated by words which speak this truth. And I know when the tone changes, recognising the look which comes across her face. Losing the wonderment to be replaced by plain and simple horny. Her own mind shutting off from sentiment to trip back to her want, take and have days. Making me feel like I may be the one on top, but she is still the one in control, my breathing becoming harsher by the second as the sensation of her own fingers tickling across my skin becomes all that I am aware of.
Like torches that scorch my senses. My thighs quivering with the awareness of her touch so sure against me. And I push into her harder. Not thinking anymore about wanting her to watch me, just knowing that we’re approaching the place where thoughts no longer exist, just me and Faith.
My body melts against her when she finds the entrance to my pussy, her free hand sliding behind my back to guide me down onto her fingers, her mouth offering words which speak about wet and hot, and how much she loves me like this. And I think I’m telling her that I love her too, my own hand trying to keep rhythm inside of her as she fucks me so damn expertly. A curved touch which glides against a spot which I never knew existed before I felt her touch, her breath hot as she reaches forwards to take my nipple between her lips.
“Oh god Faith.”
I throw my head back because it is all that I can do, arching into her, arching against her, riding her, fucking her.
“Come on B, come on baby…” Her words are coming out sharp from her lips, her own body trying to arch itself up off of the bed to bring a touch even tighter, a thrust that falls even deeper. I know she’s sliding close, I know that nothing makes her come as hard as when we fuck together, and it drives me straight to the same place. Nothing existing outside of this room, beyond the door, just the here and the now.
My body sweating as I move hard against her, every muscle tensing in preparation for release. I feel as her grip tightens around me, my thigh banging hard against the hand that holds her, my head dropping forwards now to claim her lips in a kiss. More than a kiss. Her tongue duelling with mine, her lips crushing, the tingling that begins in my clit reaching out to ignite sparks all across my body. And I hold on tighter. Ripping my mouth away from the kiss to bury in her neck, my arm aching with the force of the thrusts I’m still delivering, until each spark becomes a full on forest fire, my body shuddering with the strength of the blaze. All through me, all through her, heart pounding, mouth panting. Yet still riding. Still giving. A whole fucking wave of orgasms shattering through my system, each cry muting itself in her neck, her own cries sounding loud against my chest. Oh god Faith. Oh god.
Aware of nothing but the way that her body connects with mine, sinking as I am sinking, her hand steadying inside of me until we’re no longer fucking, but we’re both still there. Still here. Wrapped in warmth.
She slides down the bed now so as she can lay on her back, sighing as she takes her fingers from my pussy, sighing harder as I take my hand from hers. “Did I say that you could move B?”
Heavy husky tones which deliver the words without opening her eyes. A small satisfied smile curving upwards from her lips.
“Do I need permission?”
I lay my body across hers, my thigh resting between her thighs, my lips dipping forward to place kisses across her collarbone. As for the hand in question, I use that to trace that little smirk which sits upon her lips, offering her the taste of Faith. It makes her open her eyes to me, makes her tickle the tips of my fingers with her tongue.
“No B, not permission, what you need is a medal.”
My eyebrows flick up in query, “A medal?”
“Sure thing girlfriend, where did you learn to fuck like that?”
And you have to laugh at her sometimes. Making me flush with the compliment, yet still well aware of where the compliment’s heading back to. Pulling my hand away from her lips now to tangle up inside of her hair, trying to tame it into a style of respectability.
“Where did I learn?” She’s smirking wider as she awaits her name. Nodding along to my words. “Well, you know, I didn’t wanna say anything before Faith… but with Wills, and me, and the whole best friend thing… it’s like you thought… ”
“No way!”
The smirk has been replaced by shock, disbelief making her mouth gasp wide for oxygen.
“No, no way, but it’ll teach ya for being so cocky!” Now she just looks injured. “Aw, come on Faith, you know that you’re the best a girl can get, and yes, I admit… you taught me everything that I know.”
And she did in all reality. Before Faith my only conquests included Angel, which was so damn long ago and so damn tragic that I barely remember anything about it. And then Parker. And then Riley. And then Spike. My taste has sure improved since I hit on the girls brigade.
“I guess I should get the medal then, right B?”
And she’s straight on back to cocky. Maybe laced with a slight edge of exhausted. I lift myself up to kiss her lips, the faintest taste from my fingers still deposited there, enough to make me suck her bottom lip between mine. “Will that do?”
“Better than a medal.” She yawns as she says it, running her hand through the hair I had just made respectable. Lots of exhaustion.
“You tired still?”
“Kinda energised, kinda fucked, still fading fast.”
My sentiments exactly.
“Sleep?”
“For a week?”
“More like two hours.” She smiles at the loss of an hour, much better spent than sleeping. Her arm wrapping tight around me, bringing me in as close she can. I rest my head on her shoulder, my eyes closing as they start to lose the fight against the sleep.
“Thanks Buffy.”
Just a whisper across the top of my head. It has me opening my eyes again though, lifting my face a little to look up into her eyes. “What for?”
“Making it better, making me better. I needed that.” I lean up for another kiss, a kiss goodnight.
“Love you.” She smiles again at my words, and I close my eyes feeling like the luckiest girl ever. Special for so many different reasons other than the chosen kind. Perfectly happy here in our sanctuary, everything bad left on the other side of the door. Still there and still waiting. But not here. Nothing here except us.
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