Pairing: F/B, F/?, B/?
Disclaimer: Whedon owns all. Don't sue me, I'm poor, I make no money from this.
Summary: This is kind of Cruel Intentions-y world. Not in the sense that this story involves any of the characters from CI, but just the setting – rich, high society, debutantes and the like. Faith and Buffy are together, very wealthy, living together in a penthouse in Manhattan, but don’t have a relationship. Not really. You’ll see… Also, angst warning!
I’m sitting in the living room reading the latest issue of Vogue when I hear Faith trying to get rid of her latest plaything, and I mentally roll my eyes. This is always the same, she brings home some random fuck, has her way with them, then makes up some lame excuse, gets rid of the girl, and goes back to bed. Though sometimes I just wish…
“Sorry, baby, you gotta go.”
“Are you sure? We can—”
“Yeah, I’ve got a… um… a… uh… yoga… yeah… yoga appointment in like ten minutes.”
“Oh, well maybe we can do lunch?”
“Nope, sorry, babe, I’m busy today.”
I can hear the disappointment in her voice, “Oh… well… okay.”
“Whatever,” she mutters as she closes the door after her.
“Y’know, I wish you'd stop doing things like that,” I don’t even bother to look up from my magazine.
She raises an eyebrow, “I'm sure there are lots of things you'd like me to stop doing, you have to be more specific honey.”
“I wish you’d stop treating women the way you do, like little toys that you can play with whenever you please; only to discard them when you get bored. I swear, you're worse than a lot of men I know.”
“What would you like me to do then, sweetheart? Settle down and have a meaningful relationship? Fall in love maybe?”
“We both know that’s not going to happen,” I roll my eyes – for real this time.
“What? Having a meaningful relationship or falling in love?”
She just continues to smirk as she takes a seat next to me.
I sigh, “What am I going to do with you?”
“I think the question you ought to be asking is: ‘What am I going to do to you?’” she leers, leaning over and placing soft kisses along my jaw line. When she reaches my mouth, she pauses briefly to run her tongue across my lower lip and I allow her entry. I place my hand behind her head, pulling her closer, tangling my fingers in her dark tresses. I smile into the kiss when I feel her hand slither up along my inner thigh. I slide down in my seat, spreading my legs a little to allow her better access.
I don’t know why I always let her do this to me… take advantage of me… use me… but I do know why… I let her because it feels good. So what if she doesn’t love me? You can’t have your cake and eat it too…
I roll over and look at the vanilla scented candle burning on my nightstand. I’m transfixed by its small flickering flame, casting its glow around the room, I watch as it causes the shadows to dance on the wall behind it. Reaching over, I pick up the candle. I spread out my fingers, passing my fingertips thru flame back and forth a few times. Funny thing about fire, the way it moves in any direction it wants, destroying anything in its path, yet still so… magnetic. But, if you’re careful, you can touch it, but just briefly, if only to feel its warmth. Try to leave your fingers there too long though and you get burned.
Taking a cigarette out of my designer case, I use the candle to light it. I take a leisurely drag and use the smoke to blow out the candle, leaving me in the dark. I take another long, slow drag. The room is cold; the bright orange cherry of my cigarette is my only warmth. Looking at the sleeping figure next to me, I sigh. There’s no warmth there.
I stub my cigarette out in the crystal ashtray that also resides on my nightstand and close my eyes. I will sleep to come. It never does. Why does this always happen to me after we have sex? I get up, this is useless.
Leaning back in the bubble-filled tub, I close my eyes and try to relax. This is my place, my sanctuary. This is where I come to get my mind off her…
Just as my mind finally starts to wander off to a nice peaceful place, Faith bursts in.
“Hey baby, tie this in the back for me, will ya?” she strolls over and sits with her bare back facing me on steps next to my bathtub.
I sigh, “You know, Faith, there’s this new thing that they’ve invented… it’s called knocking.”
“Yeah, well, knocking is overrated.”
I glare daggers at her. How dare she interrupt my quiet time so she can look hot in that – my – halter top? I’m about to respond to her smart-ass little comment when she concedes.
“Oh fine,” she gets up and walks back outside. She closes the door and knocks twice, but immediately swings the door open afterwards.
“Faith, you’re supposed to wait until you’re invited in.”
“Whatever, just tie this.” Well at least she tried, kind of.
“Fine, come here. Why are you dressed like that anyway?” I know why, she’s probably going to some club to pick up a girl, but I ask anyway.
“I’m going to Marquee, speaking of which, why aren’t you dressed yet?”
“Don’t want to go with you,” I reply casually, finished tying up her halter.
“Aw, now that hurts, honey, why not?” she asks indifferently as she checks herself out in the mirror. Yeah, she looks good, dressed in tight white leather pants and my red backless halter.
“Why would I want to go with you? You ditch me as soon as we get there to find some dumb blonde to fuck and I’m left sitting alone.” She smiles at me and comes back over to sit by me. Picking up a loofah, she starts to gently wash my back, I lean forward to make it easier for her.
“Baby, you are a blonde.”
“That’s beside the point.”
“And I don’t always ditch you.”
“Oh, yes, I’m sorry, unless someone undesirable is trying to hit on you, then you come sit next to me and tell them I’m your girlfriend.”
“Yeah, two things, sweetheart: first off, they don’t let undesirables into Marquee and secondly, you are my girlfriend,” she smirks, letting go of the loofah. She moves from my back to my front, relocating her hand to tenderly massage my right breast.
“Come with me,” she breathes into my ear. She starts sucking on my earlobe, I begin to relax again, even though she’s just trying to manipulate me, this feels good. “I’m not above begging…” she moves her lips to my neck and dips her hand lower – much lower. Her fingers roam delightfully between my legs, causing me to breathe harder.
“Fine, I’ll go.” With that, she stops suddenly and just gets up, walking towards the bathroom door.
“Be ready in an hour.”
The club is packed, as it always is – after all, it is one of the trendiest clubs in town. The music is loud, the people are good-looking and the drinks are premium – and expensive. It’s no wonder why celebrities and New York’s elite like to come and play here.
Might be enjoyable if she hadn’t done it to me again, of course she did, why did I expect this time to be any different? I’m sitting in one of the booths here at Marquee – alone – and Faith is over near the bar trying to pick up some straight girl. She is absolutely reprehensible, will she give me no dignity at all? This is just a game to her, divide and conquer – or maybe for her it’s conquer and divide. Either way, I get screwed, figuratively that is… well, most of the time. I groan… then down the rest of my martini. This is going to be a long night. Perhaps I should just phone the driver and have him come take me home…
“Would you like another drink, Miss?” the waitress asks politely. Hmm… she looks familiar.
“Yes, make it double, please.”
“I’ll be right back with your order.” As she scurries away to retrieve my drink, Faith comes over and plops down next me.
“Hey baby,” she smiles, wrapping her right arm around me. Using her left hand, she pulls my legs across her lap.
“Why are you suddenly all cuddle-happy?” She’s really not a cuddler.
“Since when do I need a reason to be affectionate with my girl?” I can’t help the scoff that escapes me. I peek over her shoulder and see the girl from the night before.
“So you’re telling me that Jenna over there has nothing to do with this sudden bout of tenderness?”
“Who’s Jenna?” she asks scrunching up her eyebrows. I roll my eyes, God, she has no shame.
“The girl you ditched for yoga?”
“Oh, no baby, not at all,” she laughs, “you’re my girl, you know that.” Yeah, right and pigs can fly.
“Oh, hi Faith,” the waitress purrs as she sets down my drink. So I guess that’s why she looked familiar. That’s not surprising, since Faith’s probably screwed half of Manhattan by now and the other half are men. She frowns as she notices our cozy arrangement and briskly walks away.
“Is there anyone in this whole damn city that you haven’t cheated on me with?”
“Me? Cheat on you? Don’t be ridiculous, sweetie, I’m insulted that you would think such a thing.” She’s such a smart ass.
“Yeah, ’cause y’know, you put the Faith in faithful, right babe?” I bite back sarcastically.
“Always,” she smirks. I simply ignore her and start on my fresh martini. The day Faith and I have a real relationship will be the day hell freezes over and Michael Jackson doesn’t like little boys anymore. She’s about to go chase that straight girl again when I grab her arm, pulling her back down.
“Faith, I would appreciate some discretion when it comes to your little indiscretions. Everyone who travels in our circle already knows about your petty tryst with that promiscuous Chase girl. We wouldn’t want them all to be aware of your affairs with ordinary club trash as well, now would we?”
“No baby, we wouldn’t,” she smiles. She leans over to give me a fleeting kiss, then bounds away in search of her newest conquest. Great.
“Miss, could I get another martini please?”
Maybe all those martinis at the club last night wasn’t such a great idea… ’cause right now, my head feels like giant over-inflated balloon that’s about to pop and there are hundreds of tiny construction workers in there running jackhammers. I get up and stagger into my bathroom. Lifting the lid on my toilet, I quickly empty the contents of my stomach into the porcelain basin.
“Mornin’ twinkie,” Faith smirks walking in, “you always look this good when you first wake up, baby?”
“Fuck you.” My verbal skills are not at their finest right now and I certainly do not want to deal with her right now.
“Maybe later, honey,” she says flatly. In a surprising act of kindness she opens my medicine cabinet and takes out a bottle of aspirin, drops two in my hand, then hands me a glass of water. I graciously take the pills and guzzle the water.
“Thanks,” I murmur, getting into a standing position. She looks me up and down, then gives me a huge shit-eating grin. I know I look like shit, but I’ve seen her after one of her drinking binges too. “What Faith?”
“I hope you didn’t forget our date tonight, babe. Your parents are expecting us at their housewarming party.” Oh fuck.
“Since when do you care what my parents expect of us?”
“I don’t,” she replies tersely, “but you do, just thought that I’d remind you.” She turns on her heels and walks out. I wonder what she’s up to…
After taking a nice, long, hot shower, I’m getting ready to go shopping. I have to get a new dress for my parents’ party. She’s right, I do care about what my parents think – my therapist says I care too much, but fuck him, what does he know? All my life, I’ve tried so hard for their approval. But as soon as Faith walks in the picture, what do they do? They fawn all over her, like she can do no wrong. I couldn’t even face them for the longest time after they – and the rest of the rich and social – heard about Faith’s affair with Cordelia. Naturally, my parents blamed me for that, said I didn’t do enough to keep her interested. Hmm, if they only knew… It takes me three hours to find the perfect dress, which is not bad, considering it usually takes me over twice that long. I found the little gem at a boutique on Lexington Avenue. It’s a full-length dress, made of dark red silk, with a slit up the side that reaches mid-thigh and is almost completely backless. Not too slutty, but classy and definitely sexy. I love it, hopefully my parents will too…
We arrive at the party fashionably late – at Faith’s insistence – and are greeted immediately by my baby sister, Dawn.
“You’re late and mom is looking for you,” the brat says to me dryly.
“Well, it’s nice to see you too, Dawnie,” I reply sarcastically.
Her tone changes as soon as she sees Faith walk up behind me, “Oh, hey Faith, welcome.”
“Hey brat,” Faith merely shrugs, taking my hand as we walk inside.
The first floor is crowded with socialites and the like. So it takes me a minute to spot my mother and father in the banquet room, near the fireplace.
“Mom,” I greet, giving her a polite hug, “Daddy,” and him a peck on the cheek.
“Buffy, Faith, how nice of you to join us,” my father says obligingly.
“What took you so long?” my mother asks, sounding rather irritated.
“Well, mom, I—”
“Never mind,” she turns to Faith who’s been quiet thus far, “I know how long it can take her to get ready. So, Faith, you look wonderful and how are your parents?”
“They’re fine,” she replies casually, her eyes scanning the room. What the fuck is she looking for?
“Mom, is there anything you’d like to say to me?” About my dress perhaps? And how long it took to get my hair done today?
She surveys me slowly, then asks, “Honey, have you gained a few pounds?”
My jaw drops. That bitch! Faith puts on a fucking black pantsuit in fifteen minutes and she gets complimented as soon as she sets foot in here. I spend the whole day trying to make myself look incredible and I get ‘have you gained a few pounds?’
“C’mon baby, why don’t we go get us a few drinks?” Faith interjects, still holding my hand and starting to pull me away.
“Faith, Buffy, we can—”
“No, its okay we’ll get them,” she quickly leads me away. She snatches a couple of champagne flutes from a passing waiter’s tray and escorts me outside to the patio. I lean against the railing, taking a glass from her. Downing the bubbly in one swig, I throw the flute against an opposing wall, shattering the glass.
“How dare she—”
“Chill baby, you know how your mom is,” she whispers, leaning into me. She tenderly lifts my chin with her index finger and gives me a soft kiss. I give her weak smile.
“Why don’t you wait out here, I’ll be right back with something a little stronger…”
“’Kay,” as I watch her leave, my eyes settle on a picturesque brunette standing near the bar.
What in the fuck is she doing here?
I grab the crook of Faith’s arm as she walks away from me and yank hard, spinning her around to face me. She looks at me oddly, “What babe?”
“What the fuck do you think you’re doing?” I growl, letting my anger get the best of me.
“I thought I was getting you a drink…”
“Did you know she was going to be here?”
“Um… who was going to be here?”
“Don’t play dumb with me Faith,” I know she did, that’s why she reminded me. Otherwise, I’d usually have to drag her kicking and screaming to one of my parents’ parties.
“I’m not, baby, I would never do such a thing,” she grins. I look to the bar where the skank is.
“So, you’re telling me you had no idea,” she looks over to see who I’m staring at, “that Cordelia-fucking-Chase was going to be here?”
“Not a clue, honey,” she beams. Ugh, dirty liar. “But now that she’s back, don’t you think we should, at least, go over and say ‘hi?’”
“No,” I hiss. I can’t believe this. This night cannot get any worse. First my mother, now Cordelia… oh shit… maybe it can, she’s spotted us and is making her way over here. I loop my arm through Faith’s and step a little closer. Putting on my best fake smile, I ready myself for this exchange.
“Faith! How good to see you again,” she smirks, “and Buffy,” she says with a fake smile.
“Cordy, it’s good to see you too,” Faith replies, “when did you get back?”
“Oh, just a few days ago…” she starts getting all moony-eyed with my girlfriend. Slut.
In my most sickeningly sweet voice I ask, “Yes, how was your stay in… Siberia was it?”
“Scandinavia,” she corrects, “and it was… well… it was cold.”
“I’ll bet,” a genuine smile creeps onto my face, “I simply can’t imagine not being able to wear a skirt for that long. How did you do it?”
“Oh Buffy, you are so funny,” her voice drips with venom, “I suppose I have you to thank for my little vacation?” I just keep smiling and lean into Faith.
“Cordelia… darling, come over here, there’s someone I’d like you to meet,” her mother calls from inside.
“Coming mother,” she says pleasantly. She turns to leave, but not before turning and whispering, “later, Faith.”
“I can’t believe—” I stop upon see my mother walk up behind Faith, “what a wonderful party this is. Wouldn’t you agree Faith?”
“Huh?” she slowly turns around and sees my mother. “Oh, yeah babe, great party… it’s fantastic. Um… excuse me.” She makes a quick exit, leaving me alone with my mother. Wonderful… maybe now she’ll ask me if I’m a little shorter as well…
“Honey, why did you come outside? The party’s inside dear,” she asks in a condescending tone.
“Faith and I just wanted to get some air,” I lie.
“Did you happen to invite Cordelia Chase?”
“Well, yes, I know you two don’t get along that well, but I was hoping to put what’s happened behind us all. Not just for her, but for her parents, as well.”
I bite my tongue and nod.
“Besides, honey, after that whole videotape scandal… the girl could use a break.”
“I could break her in two…” I mutter.
“What’s that, hon?”
“I said… uh… I’m gonna go inside too,” I brush past her quickly. Carefully scanning the main room for Faith, I see no sign of her. She better not be… wait a minute… I spot Cordelia entering the guest bathroom – alone. The guest bathroom, which looks a lot more like it should belong in a fancy restaurant than a home, is in a somewhat secluded part of the large room.
I wait a few minutes, then quietly follow her in. She has her back turned to me when I enter, so I take advantage. Grabbing her shoulder, I whirl her around to confront her.
“Listen you vapid whore, stay away from Faith or I’ll—”
“You’ll do what? Run and tell your mother? Or cry until Faith feels bad for you and gives you a pity fuck? Maybe you’ll—”
That bitch! I backhand her fiercely across the face and she stumbles back.
“Shut up Cordelia,” I snarl, pushing her hard against the wall, “you’re just jealous because I’m actually with her and you’re not.”
“Poor deluded little Buffy,” she says in a sing-song voice, “you just don’t get it—”
“No, Cordelia, you don’t get it,” I give her another shove to prove I’m not kidding, “stay the fuck away from Faith or I’ll fucking kill you!”
A toilet flushes behind us. Shit.
Cordelia snatches her purse and scurries out. I on the other hand, take a deep breath and look in the mirror. Straightening up my dress, I open up my purse and carefully check my makeup. The reflection that appears behind me in the mirror makes me drop my lipstick into the sink.
“That jealousy bit was wicked hot!”
We decide to leave the party as soon as possible. Actually, I decide to leave as soon as possible, so that Faith wouldn’t molest me in front of all my parents’ party guests. If it were up to her though, she would probably fuck me in the bathroom like some cheap whore. When I insist we leave, she takes my hand and runs – at full sprint – out to the limo. So now I’m inside the limousine, stuck in downtown traffic, about to be fucked like a cheap whore. Well, at least she waited until we got into the limo this time.
“When the limo’s a rockin’, don’t come a knockin’,” she told the limo driver as we got in. She has absolutely no tact, whatsoever.
“Honestly Faith, can you imagine what the other people will see? A gridlocked limo, rocking back and forth in the middle of downtown Manhattan,” I squirm away, trying to fend off her advances. She pauses momentarily to ponder my question.
“Yeah, they’ll be jealous that they’re not getting any,” she grins, advancing on me.
“Faith…” she rips my dress, “Faith!”
“What babe? It’s not like you plan on ever wearing this again and if you do, I’ll buy you another.”
Oh, I give up.
It’s a good thing she’s a heavy sleeper, that girl could sleep through an earthquake – a Richter scale shattering earthquake. Otherwise, she’d probably toss me out of bed – like her other little toys – for tossing and turning so much. I just don’t know what it is about her that always leaves me with so many questions… it just always feels so right when we’re together… she just has that effect on people… she makes you believe that you’re the only one… the only that matters… the only that exists in her world.
Then, reality comes crashing back. And you’re just another notch in the bedpost to her.
I get up because I can’t sleep. I grab the bottle of Valium out of my nightstand and walk into the kitchen to open a bottle of wine. I drop two little round pills into my hand and throw them back. I use the wine as chaser. Hopefully, I’ll sleep a little tonight.
I’m having lunch with Willow today at Jean Georges’ and I’m running late – thanks again, to Faith. When I arrive, I’m led to the outdoor dining area where Wills is already seated.
“Hey Will, I’m so sorry I’m late,” I apologize, taking a seat.
“Yeah,” I blush.
“It’s okay, I haven’t been waiting that long.” I know that’s a lie because she’s always early and I’m twenty minutes late… so she’s probably been waiting close to half an hour.
“Thanks for trying to make not feel like such a jerk,” I say pleasantly. Just as I’m about to ask whether she’s ordered yet, the waiter comes by to set drinks and food before us.
“Oh, hope you don’t mind, I took the liberty,” Will smiles, shyly.
“Not at all,” I grin, taking a sip of my mimosa, “oo, my favorite, you’re the best Will.” Out meal goes by rather easily, exchanging run of the mill gossip every once in awhile. When we finish, she turns to me with a serious expression and takes my hand.
“Are you okay?” she asks, sounding very concerned.
“So you’ve heard that Cordelia’s back, huh?” I ask disinterestedly.
“Erm, yeah,” she tries to give me a comforting look, “everyone’s kinda heard…”
“Well, isn’t that just peachy?” I sneer sarcastically.
“Seriously, Buffy, are you okay with her being back?” she asks with resolve face firmly in place.
“Yes, Will, I’m fine,” I pause to think for a moment. “What good would it do if I weren’t?”
“You could try to send her back to Siberia.” I have to laugh at that.
“As much fun as that might be, I think she’s learned her lesson about sex and videotape. Even she’s not that dumb.”
“That may be true, but…” she trails off, then looks like was suddenly reminded of something. “What about Faith? Are she and Cordy still all—”
“No,” I cut in sharply. Even the mere thought of Faith’s meanderings with Cordelia makes my blood boil. “No, I had a little chat with Cordelia the other night at my parents’ housewarming party.” I take another sip of my drink.
“And I don’t think she’ll be trying anything with my girlfriend anytime soon. That is, if she has a brain.”
There’s a brief silence.
“So, how are you and Faith doing? I know she’s not exactly the most…” she looks away.
“Well…” now it’s my turn to look away, “we’re… fine.”
“Buffy…” she squeezes my hand.
“It’s just… I don’t know.”
“I don’t understand why you stay with her… how can you not see the way she treats you?”
“Oh, believe me, I see,” I give a sad chuckle, “I’m sure that everyone probably sees how she treats me. In fact, you could probably see it from space.”
“And that doesn’t bother you?” her voice is soft, sympathetic.
“It’s… it’s… killing me Will,” I finish my drink.
“Maybe it’s about time you give her a taste of her own medicine,” she suggests, wryly.
“Yeah, ’cause we all know how well that turned out last time,” I scoff.
“Kennedy wasn’t in the hospital that long,” she hesitates, “well, okay, she was, but she survived.”
“I just wish that Faith would—”
“Oh my god, Buffy,” she points towards the entrance. Just wonderful… it’s Cordelia… who else?
After leaving the restaurant, Will and I decide to do a little shopping. This also gave me a chance to tell her about what happened after my parents’ party.
“Why do you let her do that you?” Will suddenly turns to me and asks.
“Well… to be honest… the sex is incredible,” I feel the blood rush to my cheeks.
“You know, Buff—”
“I know, I know, that’s not a good reason to stay with someone but…”
“As long as you know that,” she chides.
“Yeah, yeah,” I mutter, perusing though some more designer goods.
“Kennedy!” Willow shouts excitedly. I spin around to see my ex.
“Hey Willow,” she smiles, then turns to me, “Buffy, it’s good to see you again.”
“Hi Kennedy, um… your arm looks like it’s healed well.”
“Yeah, well, you know what they say, what doesn’t kill you will make you stronger,” she laughs.
“Yeah,” I look away uncomfortably. Last time we were together, it was because I was using her to try and make Faith jealous. Though Faith didn’t really show any outward to jealousy to me, she did discreetly introduce Kennedy to the business end of a baseball bat. I might as well have ‘Property of Faith’ tattooed to my forehead.
“So… you look good Buffy, how’ve you been?”
“I, eh, I’ve been better,” I sigh.
“Not too happy ’bout Cordelia being back, huh?” Kennedy asks, sympathetically rubbing my shoulder.
“You’ve heard about that too? I—”
“Oh, I just realized that I have to go, I forgot that I have a… uh… something to do,” Willow supplies lamely. As she leaves, she leans in to whisper, “Do it, show Faith what she’s missing.” Oh, great.
Though Kennedy and I actually dated before Faith and I got together, I’ve just never felt that fire that I do when I’m around Faith. When were together she was nothing but kind and caring and thoughtful to me – which is far more than I can say for Faith. But it didn’t work out because she was in love with me and I was… well, I was in love with Faith. I had to do the only thing I could… I let her go.
Even though Kennedy’s not even in same ballpark as Faith when it comes to sex, I can still close my eyes and imagine she is. I can pretend that Faith’s the one who truly cares about me… the one who actually wants to be with me… the one who doesn’t mind doing some post-coital cuddling. I think about it all the time, Faith would hold me like there was no tomorrow and whisper sweet nothings in my ear. She would use my actual name and not some insincere pet name.
“I love you, Buffy,” she would whisper in my ear and finally mean it.
Then I could whisper back, “I love you too, Faith.”
“What?!?” I’m snapped back to reality by the harshness of my lover’s voice.
“Wha? Huh?” I’m still temporarily confused by my day dream.
“You called me Faith,” she hisses, getting out of bed and putting on a robe.
“When?” I’m seriously confused now.
“Uh, just now, when I told you I loved you,” she scoffs, picking up my own clothes and throwing them at me. Oh shit, that was real?
“I… I…” didn’t know I said that out loud, “am so very sorry.” I reach for her, but she quickly pulls away.
“I think you should leave,” she says softy, but sternly. I know I hurt her and I feel terrible about it. She’s never been anything but sweet to me.
“Kennedy, please, I didn’t mean it, I—”
“Stop Buffy, don’t. Please, just go,” she chokes back a sob.
I step out of the elevator just in time to see Faith discard her latest plaything.
“But Faith, I broke up with my boyfriend for you,” she yells at the door.
“Excuse me,” I try to slip past her to get inside.
“Who the fuck are you?” the girl hisses at me.
“I—” I’m interrupted by the door swinging open.
“She’s my girlfriend,” Faith says cheerily, pulling me into the apartment and slamming the door behind me, leaving the poor girl outside with her mouth agape.
“She seemed nice,” I smile sarcastically.
“Why do I always attract the clingy ones?” she asks rhetorically, turning on the TV. Taking a seat on the couch, she puts her feet up on the coffee table – because she knows I hate it when she does that, but I choose not to acknowledge that. I lay on my side lengthwise across the couch, using Faith’s lap as a headrest and close my eyes. I still can’t believe what I did to Kennedy. I’m such a terrible person. Ugh!
Every once and awhile, I glance up at her and I swear that she was staring at me. She refocuses her attention back to the TV every time I look though, so I try to stop thinking about it. She begins to gently stroke my back and then to my surprise, she tenderly brushes a stray lock of hair out of my face.
“Nothing,” just had to make sure it was still her.
“I thought you were just having lunch with Willow today?” she asks out of nowhere.
“Must’ve been a long lunch…” I look at the clock, it’s almost 11pm... Uh-oh.
“I… uh… ran into an old friend today,” which isn’t a total lie.
There’s a short silence.
“Kennedy?” I open my eyes, how did she know? As if hearing my unasked question, she adds, “Megan, the manager of the store you were in, is a… friend.”
“You mean you’ve fucked her?” I shift from laying on my side to my back so I can look up at her.
“Same diff,” she says apathetically. “So, how is Ken doll doing? How’s her arm?”
“Faith…” there’s a tone of warning in my voice, “it wasn’t like that.”
“Of course not, baby, I just want to know how she is,” she looks down at me with a wicked grin.
“Sure you did,” I sit up and she pulls me into her lap, “if you must know, her arm’s healed quite nicely.”
“Well, that’s good,” she grins, sliding her nails up, along the inside of my leg. Mmm…
“I mean it Faith, stay away from her,” I’ve already hurt her enough today. She leans in and starts placing kisses along my collarbone.
“Didn’t even cross my mind,” she muffles into my neck. I pull away from her, placing my hands on either side of her head.
“Faith,” I look her in the eyes, “promise me you will stay away from Kennedy.” She rolls her eyes at me. “I’m serious, Faith.”
“Why do you care so much that I stay away from your ex?”
“How about what happened last time?” I ask incredulously.
“I had nothing to do with that sweetheart, I heard she got mugged,” she replies in a patronizing tone, she tries to move her hand further up my thigh and I clamp my legs shut.
I raise an eyebrow, “Just promise me.”
“Fine, fine, I promise,” she looks at me impatiently, “happy now?”
“Yes,” I unclamp my legs and let her hand roam.
“Sex now?” without waiting for an answer, she lifts me up and throws me over her shoulder in a fireman’s carry, heading towards her bedroom.
“Faith, this not dignified.”
“So, if you’re going to carry me to the bedroom, do it the nice way.” She ignores me and slaps me on the ass instead. Ow.
As soon as she reaches her destination, she flings me onto the bed – none too gently I might add – so I land on my back. She straddles my lap and starts on removing my top, I sit up a little to make it easier for her. Upon elimination of the unwanted article of clothing, she bends down to place butterfly kisses down my neck and chest. She’s about to rip my skirt off when I pull her back up so we’re face to face.
“What babe? I’ll be careful this time, I won’t rip your—” I cut her off.
“No, that’s not what this is about,” she tries to move back down, but I hold her still.
“What then?” she rolls her eyes.
“Look at me Faith,” finally, she meets my gaze. “Tell me you love me.”
“What?” she looks at me oddly.
“Just… humor me a little.”
“You’re serious?” she asks skeptically. I nod, my eyes never leaving hers. “I love you, babe.” Now it’s my turn to roll my eyes.
“How about, like you actually mean it?” I know that she won’t, but it doesn’t matter, I just want to hear her say it.
She pauses for a moment, then in tender voice relents, “I love you, Buffy.”