Title: Semper Fidelis
Rating: R
Pairing: F/B, F/Other
Disclaimer: Don't sue me, I'm poor, I make no money from this.
Feedback: Please, I really do like to hear what people think. I do take in account what people would like to see.
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!

A/N: Okay, I don't know where I'm going with this one… let me know if you have suggestions.

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."

"Bye."

"Call me."

"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?"

"Both."

She just continues to smirk and 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.