Disclaimer: Buffy the Vampire Slayer belongs to Joss Whedon and company. "To Bring You My Love" belongs to PJ Harvey.
Prompts: Written for round 44 at femslash_mins for summerofsoaps who wanted Faith/Drusilla, moonlight, music and dancing.
Notes: Set during Season Four BTVS just after Faith leaves Sunnydale.
I was born in the desert / I been down for years
Faith dances with reckless abandon in a bar somewhere in the middle of a desert. Sunnydale's nothing more than a distant memory as is the skin that she shed when she left there in a hurry in the back of a dusty truck with nothing but bitterness and hate to guide her. She has no time for a petty rivalry with a little jumped up Slayer like Buffy. Instead she'd rather dance to the song coming from the ancient jukebox as moonlight spills into the broken windows.
The last two nights have been spent painting this town crimson red. Literally and figuratively. Faith smirks as her hips move until she's in the arms of her dark goddess.
And I've traveled over / Dry earth and floods / Hell and high water
Four days ago, she was on the run, with no money in her pocket and nothing more than a razor sharp blade. Nowhere to call home or to lay her head or some shit like that and just when Faith had though that she'd hit rock bottom, Drusilla had come into her life crooning about the songs that the stars and wind sang to her. About how they had sang to her about a pretty dark haired girl who tasted deliciously dark. Faith had known that Drusilla was a vampire but she didn't care. She'd fallen into those deadly arms willingly and she'd let Drusilla kiss her and she'd returned each and every one of those kisses.
At first it'd been about revenge. If she changed, transformed into the monster that everyone thought she was, then she could bring down Buffy. But Drusilla hadn't given her immortality, hadn't allowed her to change. Faith was still human, her heart still beat and her soul was still intact.
Cast down off Heaven / Cast down on my knees
Four nights ago, Faith had found something in Drusilla's arms, something that she'd never found before, an ecstasy brought about by Drusilla's hands and mouth. She was devoted and willing to follow wherever Drusilla led. And it was to this little town in the middle of nowhere in the desert, Sunnydale forgotten as well as her desire to bring down Buffy. Instead she was more concerned in learning the dark songs that the stars and wind sang, learning how to bring Drusilla to the same state that she can easily bring Faith to without even trying.
And as they gracefully sink to the floor, Faith's hands grip at Drusilla's hips. Any bruises that she leaves won't linger on Drusilla's porcelain skin. Faith nips at Drusilla's lips, smirking when Drusilla softly sighs. Faith is her protector, her lover, her darling who can do no wrong. As long as Faith lets Drusilla remain in control everything will be perfect between them. Drusilla will teach her how to hear the songs that only she can here.
Drusilla's dark eyes flash gold when Faith's hands slip under her long dress. Her fangs elongate and her face shifts into its true form, when Faith's hands slowly move up her legs and to her center.
Lay with the devil / Bring you my love
Drusilla hums the song that she can only hear while Faith teaches her how to dance to those songs on the floor of the bar as some old song plays on the jukebox and moonlight streams in through the broken windows. They're two halves of a whole, and even though Faith recognizes the insanity in the two of them she doesn't care. Not when Drusilla tastes of sweet, rich honey. Not when Drusilla showers her in affection. Not when Drusilla hones her into a sharper, deadlier weapon. Drusilla has won her devotion by making her whole, by saving her in a desert when she had nothing left.
((END))