Disclaimer: Buffy and Supernatural are not mine.
Summary: BtVS xover. BUaBS AU. Sam got a partner while he was possessed.
They were a perfect team. They were unstoppable.
Faith leaned back in the computer chair, crossing her feet on top of the desk. "He's hot."
Sam chuckled. "He thinks so, too." He finished tying Dean's feet. He stood, took a few steps back, and examined his work. "That should hold him for a little while."
Faith snorted. "That should hold him for a few days."
"No, not Dean."
She smirked as she said, "So, he's hot and slippery?"
Sam cocked an eyebrow. He came up behind her. "All this talk about how hot my brother is…" He buried his face in her neck and nipped at the skin. "Do you think he's hotter than me?"
She tilted her head to the side. Faith was ready to reply in the positive, get him riled up. However, he bit down hard on a stretch of a skin and her answer became a gasp. She jerked him forward by his hair. He didn't fight her and she didn't loosen her grip. Their lips met. The kiss was rough and angry. No, his brother wasn't hotter.
He broke the kiss. "We have somewhere to be."
"We do?" she challenged.
He gave her an apologetic smile that clashed with his bruised lips. "I have somewhere to be and would really like it if you could join me."
"Where?"
"I need to see an old friend." She brought her knees up to her chest as he spun the chair around. "Come on. You'll like her."
Faith liked how Jo didn't hold back her screams and is sure that's what Sam meant.
She put out her cigarette directly beneath the girl's eye. Tears down Jo's face, upsetting the cuts, scratches, and burns. It seemed the tough chick was just a little girl playing dress up. You can't play dress up when your skin is being pulled away. No, all you can do is drop the act. Her terrified eyes were glued on Sam. Faith watched the emotions play.
"My daddy shot your daddy in the he-e-ad." Sam loomed over her. Now, I'm gonna' slice your throat open. It's like poetry."
If Faith bothered with comparisons, she's probably say it was more like art, all expression and color. Jo had died without hope. Sam was on a high. He let her blood cover his hands. He cleaned the knife on his jeans. He was hungry for more.
"Like poetry," he said.
Faith pulled on her jacket. "Yeah, poetry."
Sam smiled. He stroked her cheek, leaving behind a line of blood. They stood in silence. Then, Sam cursed. "I forgot to send a message to daddy."
"What message?"
"Howdy."
Faith burst out laughing and Sam followed. Whenever Buffy realized she was no longer in a coma, the self-righteous bitch would come looking. Whenever Sam's brother broke free, he'd be on their tail. It didn't matter, though.
Faith kissed him. He tasted of blood and sulfur.
They were a perfect team. They were unstoppable.
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