A.N: This update took longer than I expected but at least it's a decent size. I'll be revisiting Not My Generation in my next update because I've taken a long enough vacation from post-apocalyptic, crazy Buffy shenanigans and I think one of you might kill me if I leave it any longer!
Thanks for the great support on both stories so far and feel free to leave your thoughts on this update in a review.
Trapped
One Month Ago
It was the middle of the summer break and Buffy's backyard was host to one of the many sunbathing sessions that had occurred throughout that hot week in August. Buffy lay on a beach towel in a pleasant daze as the sun's heat greedily warmed any inch of skin she dared to expose. She was hazily aware of the drone of a distant lawnmower and the rhythmic chorus of grasshoppers hiding in the nearby bushes. This peaceful symphony was occasionally broken by the sporadic shrilling of a bird's song or the playful laughter of neighbouring children, but did little to rouse the slayer from her tranquil bubble.
She was only faintly listening to the animated conversation taking place beside her.
The blonde rolled her head lazily to the left and peered over the top of her sunglasses to watch Faith retell one of her infamous slayer-related tales. Willow's eyes were wide and she had sat to attention besides Faith's reclining, scantily clad form; Buffy feared Faith would have sunbathed naked if she hadn't firmly stated that she required something at least PG-13 appropriate. On the other hand, Willow's excuse for her denim short dungarees that rested on the shoulders of her loose-fitting 'Geeks do it better' t-shirt had been an almost convincing cautionary tale of poor, pale, freckled redheads and their dreaded nemesis—sunburn. Buffy was inclined to believe it had more to do with the fact she had to compete with the physiques of two slayers in their prime, which, especially in Faith's case and her penchant for showing skin, were hard to ignore.
"That's insane." Buffy heard Willow exclaim in disbelief as she stared at her contented storyteller. The witch looked torn between awe and disbelief. Buffy smiled demurely, remembering how fascinated Willow had been with Faith and her stories when they had first met. Faith gave a husky chuckle as she turned away from the redhead and positioned her front toward the Sun's mercy.
"That's what I tried to tell the vamp but he just kept on hoppin' toward me on the one leg." Faith said reflectively.
"And d-did you beat him?" Willow asked, waiting with bated breath.
Faith's eyebrows made an appearance above her black sunglasses, "Still here aren't I?" She replied bluntly. Her smirk twisted into one of wicked design before she continued, "I cut the other leg off and after beatin' on him for a bit I weighted his body and threw him off the pier." Faith explained with visible pride, "He's probably still drifting along the bottom of Boston Harbor."
"You should write children's books." Buffy chipped in, managing to summon the required amount of sarcasm despite her blissful stupor. She barely stifled a yawn before adding, "It's like you have a gift."
"It was a vamp, B." Faith retorted in a loud, flippant manner. Willow peered nervously over the fence as if expecting the neighbours to have their ears pressed against the other side, "One that liked to eat kids—in creative ways." Faith exclaimed with repulsed anger, "Creep got what he deserved."
Buffy just smiled weakly in response. She was still acclimatizing to the brutal methods Faith liked to exhibit in the field. In this case she couldn't really blame the other slayer for the extreme measures she'd taken, but Buffy wasn't currently in such a grisly situation. She was sunbathing in her backyard on a beautiful summer's day making it much harder to root for Faith's personal brand of justice.
Faith's lips twisted as she nodded to herself, "Righhht," she was smiling, apparently amused by something only she knew. When she turned to face Buffy she casually sneered, "Keep forgettin' about your soft spot for the undead."
Buffy's sunny disposition turned instantly icy. She noted Faith's leer betraying her otherwise innocent body language. "Do not. Even. Go there." She warned in a dangerous, low voice.
Faith's shit eating grin was barely held back as the brunette bit down on her bottom lip.
"Faith. I'm serious." The brunette shrugged innocently and looked away still grinning wildly. Buffy could feel something bubbling up inside the other slayer and as Buffy's cheeks turned red in pre-emptive preparation for what she knew was coming, she felt her hands form solid fists just before her sense of peace was destroyed in a very loud, very obnoxious manner.
"The first bite is the deeeeepest, baby I know—!"
Faith's exaggerated singing was interrupted when Buffy promptly clamped her hand around her mouth and the rest of the chorus came out as an incoherent, giggle-ridden mess. A battle fought with pinching fingers and slapping hands ensued and Faith erupted into manic laughter interspersed with the occasional mocking lyric. She half-heartedly protected herself from Buffy's attacks while taking any presented opportunity to prod and poke the angry blonde, incensing her further.
"I think I'm gonna go get a drink before the hair pulling starts." Willow grimaced comically as she got up from her towel and brushed off a few stray blades of grass that clung to her legs or clothing. "You want anything?" The question was open but she looked at Buffy and her red, scowling face.
The blonde huffed indignantly, attempting to compose herself as she used her arms to support herself into a dignified sitting position while pinning a squirming Faith to the ground. She chose to ignore the continued goading jabs her sister slayer sent into her stomach and ribs. Through a half clenched jaw she managed, "Yeah, there's soda in the fridge. Ice in the top of the freeze—quit it!" She snapped irritably as Faith had returned to singing her version of the Cat Stevens classic under her breath. When Faith only added emphasis on certain words Buffy pounced on the other slayer with renewed anger which only encouraged Faith further.
"Think ya funny, huh?" Buffy challenged, laughing despite herself as she attempted to get Faith in a headlock, "Can the funny girl sing without a head?"
Willow simply nodded and peddled backwards, watching the wrestling girls before amusedly shaking her head and turning toward the house.
The pair of duelling slayers found a natural stopping point and Faith's teasing laughter broke down into breathless chuckles as her chest shuddered with each sporadic snicker.
They heard the back door to Buffy's kitchen swing shut behind Willow. Buffy noticed she was still straddling her friend's stomach and as her anger-fuelled adrenaline evaporated with each steady breath she became suddenly flustered by the close proximity. When it reached the point she was acutely aware of Faith's bare midriff pressed between her legs and the fact the brunette had started drawing lazy patterns across Buffy's stomach for her own amusement, alarm bells finally sounded from the foggy haze that was Buffy's brain. She removed her body with as much subtle haste as possible and laid back on to her beach towel—but not without getting one last parting shot into Faith's shoulder.
"Ow." The brunette deadpanned, rubbing her shoulder distractedly.
"Serves you right." Buffy said curtly, a smug, victorious smile curling her lips. A cursory look over at Faith showed she looked decidedly less content than she had a couple of seconds ago. Buffy scrunched her nose up in amused concern and moved her sunglasses up to her forehead to take a better look at Faith. She definitely seemed deflated about something.
"I didn't hit you that hard you big baby." Buffy chided jovially. When Faith simply gave an unconvincing smile in response a rush of concern subdued Buffy's playfulness. "Faith?
"Nothing." Faith said a little too quickly. "I'm swell." Buffy shot the brunette a bemused look as Faith recoiled at her choice of words but quickly recovered. "What's up?" She asked coolly.
Buffy shrugged lightly and decided she should change tact. They laid there for a while, soaking in the ambient sounds filling the calm, summer air until Buffy mustered the courage to bring up a topic that had been eating away at her over the weeks. "We haven't really talked since the Graduation."
One of Faith's eyebrows rose dubiously. "B, we talk nearly every day. It's at the point now where I'm kinda sick of you." She snorted with laughter when Buffy swatted her arm.
"Jerk." Buffy scowled with a glaring pout. She sobered after a moment and pushed on, "I meant it's been a while since we talked about...Finch."
Faith stiffened immediately at the mention of the name but managed a strained smile.
"I guess it has, huh?" She replied distractedly. She was silent for a long moment, but when she did speak her voice lacked its usual character, "I'm coping. Taking it day by day. Some days are worse than others. Dreams don't help much."
"Dreams?" Buffy asked curiously as she laid on her front, head propped up on the end of one hand.
"Of the night it happened." Faith explained quietly, "Replayin' over and over in my head. Bad enough I do it when I'm awake." She chuckled humourlessly, "I pick apart all the details. Wonder what I could have done differently. If he'd be alive right now." Buffy observed Faith's neutral expression, her eyes hidden from sight as not to give away any conflict of emotion taking place inside her. Whether she had grown comfortable opening up to Buffy or was just getting good at disguising her vulnerability as cool detachment. The shaky sigh she omitted confirmed the latter. "I just have to remind myself of who he was working for." Faith continued as her voice grew stronger, "Not like I killed a girl scout. He may have been trading sides but he was evil's lackey for a hell of a time before he decided to jump the fence."
"True. His employer was much with the evil." Buffy nodded grimly, "I'm still washing Dick out of my hair." She half-joked with shuddering disgust. Her expression turned to dumbfounded horror when her words registered, and with that, the dregs of Faith's tension vanished. Her smirk bordered on the ridiculous.
"Sometimes I think you say these things to test me." Faith said suspiciously. From the angle of her tilted head Buffy knew the girl's eyes were narrowed behind her shades. Buffy rolled her eyes but still blushed slightly as Faith continued to scrutinize her. Before Buffy could succumb completely to her embarrassment the other slayer suddenly clicked her fingers. "Shit, I almost forgot."
Buffy watched curiously as Faith sat up and reached into the jacket piled beside her on the grass and jostled through the pockets until she found and retrieved a small black box. Faith juggled with the mystery box for a hesitant moment then with sudden resolve she straightened up and handed it to Buffy. "Here."
"What's this?" Buffy peered down at the unmarked, rectangular box, turning it carefully in her hand, worried its contents might be fragile. With that thought jewellery sprung to mind and she had to control a surge of girlish excitement building in her chest to remember this was a gift from Faith. It was smooth to the touch and appeared to have two small hinges along one length and a basic latch lock on the other. Faith gave her an impatient frown.
"It's for you." Faith said while fidgeting. She rolled her eyes and added, "Duh. Open it." She added hastily, clearly on edge now.
Buffy looked suspiciously at Faith for a beat, hesitating, then with a squeal of excitement she lifted the latch with the flick of a finger and practically yanked the lid open. Upon the red velvet lining inside rested a thin, metallic object that glinted as the sun caught its edge.
Buffy did a double take as she stared at the object she'd revealed.
"You picked it out at that Meyer sports place. The night we got arrested." Faith couldn't help the nostalgic smirk that showed off her teeth.
"I remember." Buffy said with slight stiffness. She wasn't as fond of the memory as Faith seemed to be seeing as 'picked it out' was the cliff notes version of 'breaking and entering with intent to steal'. She picked the knife up slowly and examined it from all angles, her expression unreadable. As the knife elicited a torrent of exciting and frightening memories that rushed through her mind's eye, Buffy paused in her examination, a worrying thought occurring to her, "You didn't...steal this did you?"
"What? No!" Faith cried defensively. She looked annoyed but Buffy couldn't really be blamed to jump to conclusions considering her past—and her present. Buffy was still unconvinced that Faith had gotten a 'great deal' on the muscle car currently parked out front, and if money hadn't been exchanged she didn't want to know what had been done to warrant it into her possession. "I just got my first pay check from the restaurant yesterday and I've been wantin' to get you something for a while but I didn't really have the extra income. Now...I do." Faith finished in a coyly upbeat fashion. Buffy turned the silver blade delicately between her fingers, silently admiring the craft that had gone into its creation.
"Is that why you're wearing $80 Ray Bans?" Buffy asked abruptly and accusingly as she eyeballed the designer sunglasses perched on the bridge of Faith's nose.
"I'm an impulse buyer." Faith shrugged nonchalantly before slipping on her trademark smirk, "So sue me."
"Wait, you just said you'd wanted to get me something for a while—as in longer than one day." The cogs were slowly turning in Buffy's head and she fixed Faith with a furrowed gaze. "This isn't a victim of impulsive buying, is it?" Buffy indicated the knife, her forehead uncreasing as a wave of clarity took hold.
"Yeah. No. I dunno." Faith grunted with a quick shrug. "I just thought you'd like it."
"But it's in a gift box. Meyer Sports do gift boxes for hunting weapons?" Buffy inquired dubiously.
Faith was starting to fluster now, "So I dressed it up! What's the big deal? Jeez, I just wanted to—" She cut herself off, removing her sunglasses as rubbed at the pained expression on her face. When her eyes reopened she avoided looking at Buffy to such a degree that the blonde couldn't help but laugh.
"Faith." Buffy commanded gently, yet firmly. She had learnt she really could get anyone to talk with the right tone of voice and liberal use of the puppy dog stare. In particular, the no bullshit approach worked wonders on the other slayer. The brunette's eyes rolled slowly in their sockets and she sighed heavily at the brilliantly blue sky.
"I just wanted to say thank you." The agitated slayer managed huskily, as if the words were an unbearable effort. "For everythin' you did for me. After that night in the alley..." She chewed her lip, clearly struggling with such naked honesty, "...I owe you...everything. And I'm never gonna forget that."
Faith dared a glance at Buffy and the older slayer saw just how vulnerable she was at that moment. She swallowed against the lump in her throat as the significance of Faith's gift truly sunk in.
"Well, thank you." Buffy said sincerely after composing herself. Her wide, unabashed smile was apparently enough to convince Faith she'd done well as the tension in the other girl evaporated and she gave a mock casual shrug; as if the gesture didn't mean half of what she knew it meant. "It's not every day a girl gets given a dangerous weapon. Though I suspect I've been given my fair share more than most." Buffy chuckled as a pensive look crossed her face.
"Well, play your cards right and who knows what else you'll have comin' your way." Faith wriggled her eyebrows suggestively as she laid back down, resting her head on the palms of her hands. Buffy marvelled at how quickly the other slayer could return to her usual self-assured nature and gave a short, laugh of incredulity.
"Is that so?" Buffy said shaking her head with an amused smile before it turned deviously cheeky and she added, "Careful. I'm armed. I could demand all kinds of things."
Faith regarded Buffy for a moment before leaning upward as she purred in thought, "That's true." Buffy seeking an opportunity to get the upper hand placed the blade of the knife dangerously against Faith's throat, stopping her steady approach. She glanced downwards and chuckled. When she looked back up Faith's dark eyes showed no trace of fear and Buffy felt strangely exhilarated by the other girl's challenging stare. Faith pointed a solitary finger into the centre of Buffy's chest, just above her bikini-aided bust and in a smooth, sultry tone said, "But you're forgetting something important, B."
"Oh yeah? What's that?" Buffy asked with breezy indifference, enjoying the brief sense of control she had over the other slayer while her air of superiority only drew a bigger, more mischievous grin out of Faith.
The brunette added a second finger to Buffy's chest and walked them slowly up toward her collarbone, before leaning smoothly toward her, her nose tickling Buffy's cheek before she reached her destination; her lips brushing Buffy's earlobe as a whisper soft as silk said, "Some things are free for the taking..."
Buffy was so caught off guard that she couldn't stop her teeth from instinctively sinking into her bottom lip.
A loud gasp pulled both their gazes sharply toward the house to see Willow with three glasses on a tray and a look of frozen shock on her face. Buffy swallowed hard, the glaze lifting from her eyes just in time to catch the way Faith jolted away from her personal space. She briefly watched the younger slayer fidget uncomfortably back onto her beach towel, before refocusing on the bug-eyed Witch with impeccable timing.
Before Buffy could explain the odd scene her friend had just witnessed, Willow beat her to the draw, "Why do you have a knife? Are you fighting? I was gone five minutes!"
The slack-jawed slayers looked from Willow to the knife clutched in Buffy's hand and back to Willow again before gawking wide-eyed at each other. Willow glanced bewilderedly around the backyard for a punch line when Buffy and Faith burst into fits of uncontrollable laughter.
Buffy blinked away the memory as the headlights of a passing car glared through the bedroom window and stirred her from the reminiscent scene playing in her head. She stared dumbly at the knife resting in her hands for a moment longer, running her thumb along the length of the blade. With a tired sigh, she turned to put the weapon back in the wooden chest by the end of her bed and almost banged her head against a large packing crate in her path. She scowled at the crate and proceeded to step around it and several others that were stacked high around the confines of her bedroom; her mother had some serious explaining to do. After wriggling her way between two heavy crates to get the knife back in its box within the weapon's chest, Buffy worked her way to her dresser and fished out a pair of pyjama shorts and a tank top. She got changed in the hallway, unable to deal with the lack of space in her own room. She grimaced at her dirty clothing, noticing spots of vivid white blood that had stained her top and ruined the material.
She sighed angrily.
Buffy crossed the landing and shot a cautionary glance at the locked bathroom door. She went to knock then hesitated, biting her lip.
"Uh...Faith?" she asked, careful to keep her voice neutral, "Do you need anything?"
When Buffy didn't get an answer after a moment she dithered on whether to ask again or just leave the girl in peace when a husky voice, just audible over the sound of the running faucet, replied, "No."
With renewed optimism that Faith could at least bare a minimum of communication with her, she added, "Well if you do I'll be downstairs. Okay?" She could hear movement from inside but got no reply. After a minute Buffy relented and went downstairs.
In normal circumstances Buffy would have shrugged off Faith's pride and helped her anyway. But circumstances were far from normal and in all honesty Buffy was relieved to have an excuse to be out of the other slayer's company. Standing alone in the foyer now, she let out a shaky breath, the one she felt she'd been holding since Faith's revelation outside the Bronze.
She walked automatically into the kitchen, unsure how to occupy herself. She leant restlessly against the island then wandered over to the fridge and stared blankly at its contents. She closed it and moved to the sink, filling a glass from the faucet. She sipped unenthusiastically from her bland beverage until the kitchen's eerie silence became too unsettling. Lately, being alone set Buffy on edge. Even the kitchen's bright, artificial lighting provided little comfort, somehow making the quiet house seem all the more sinister.
Abandoning the drink on the countertop, the tired slayer stepped into the living room, walked in a daze to the couch and fell face down into the cushions. A low, muffled groan escaped into the floral-patterned seat. Gradually Buffy lifted her head.
It ached fiercely, swollen from the tempest of new information swirling inside. Her fists and feet felt like she'd tried to fight a tank. And worst of all, her chest and stomach lurched in nauseating synchronicity as she remembered the words that Faith had uttered with such heart wrenching honesty in the dark recesses of that alley. Why did everything big between them occur in dark, dingy alleyways, anyway? She thought irritably.
Buffy's face fell into her hands, her cold palms rubbing against her face. She tucked them in a fist under her chin as she sat in silent thought. She was still reeling from one part of Faith's outburst in particular:
'I'm obsessed with you.'
A girl was in love with her. And not just any girl—Faith. Faith, the only other slayer in existence, yearned after Buffy in a way that both scared the slayer and caused her to feel like she had a permanent blush. She had always felt liked by the younger slayer, respected, admired and even envied by the complicated girl. Buffy herself had grown to love Faith like any of her other friends but at no point had she pictured her descendant as more than that. Of course their friendship was deeper due to their shared lineage, Faith understood Buffy in a way no one else did. Kendra had been the same but lived such an organised life outside her own that Buffy had never really had the chance to know her better. Then again, Faith was a whole different kind of animal.
What saddened Buffy the most was the feeling that their friendship had come to an end. Sure it wasn't official or even final yet but like some horrible thing waiting just on the horizon she could feel it steadily approaching. She couldn't see any conceivable way they would be able to go back to the way things had been all summer.
She thought back to the knife and what it represented.
Buffy had always found the gesture sweet and innocent; just a sign of Faith's growing maturity and evidence of their then newly forming friendship. Now, however, Buffy inwardly groaned at her naivety. Nothing about Faith's demeanour that day had come across as casual or just friendly. Now she was revisiting every moment they'd spent together and viewing all of it through new eyes.
Buffy had been around Faith all summer. She had lived with her, sparred with her, patrolled and played cards in cemeteries with her and barely a day had passed in those months where she didn't have some interaction with the other slayer. It was fair to say this couldn't be helped because Faith had moved in and that at least half of those days with Faith had involved Willow too. But Buffy knew deep down how close she had got to Faith in such a relatively short space of time. She practically had every quirk, trend and pet peeve of the brunette etched into her brain.
What fresh hell must had it been for Faith, feeling the way she did, with the object of her affections always constantly within distance of all her five senses. Well maybe not taste...but...
Buffy shook off the image she'd involuntarily just conjured up and sighed exasperatedly into the empty living room. Her head truly was a mess; filled to the brim with guilt and fear, while at random, unwanted intervals a small, cruel part of her mind flashed the possibilities of what a relationship with Faith might be like. This was due mostly to the associated mental imagery that caused Buffy to blush and roll her eyes to the ceiling, wishing she had never opened Pandora's Box that evening.
I could have let it go, she thought bitterly, I could have put Faith's moodiness down to Faith being moody but ooooh no—I just had to find out!
Falling into a sulk comprised of anger, fatigue and a combination of being drained both mentally and emotionally, Buffy slouched over to the opposite couch, plummeting backward into the seat sullenly. She switched the television on with the remote, watched the image flicker onto the black box and stared passively at the sitcom rerun playing on screen. She'd seen the episode more times than she had fingers but the familiar faces and their jokes helped drown out the turmoil taking place in Buffy's aching head. She turned the volume up and laid loosely on the couch, her head propped against the armrest. Buffy hugged a cushion to her chest, fidgeted into the most pleasing position and listened drowsily to the comical dialogue and canned laughter as she let herself become comfortably numb.
When she could manage to tear her eyes away from the torrent of gurgling water Faith finally stripped away her chest-hugging top, letting it drop haphazardly on the floor. She unbuttoned the fly of her dark jeans and then shuffled them down to her knees before sitting on the edge of the bath and winced as she gingerly pushed the material down her aching leg. She grunted as she lifted the leg enough to slide the tight clothing over her ankles and finally off her feet.
She flexed her toes experimentally and had to suck her lips between her teeth to stifle the loud gasp of pain she unleashed. Cursing angrily she threw her creased jeans into the corner of the room. She leant over and shut the tap off, testing the temperature of the bath momentarily.
The slayer stood uneasily on her good leg and warily examined her reflection in the medicine cabinet mirror. She scowled at the dark bruise forming over one side of her ribs. It took all her self control not to lash out and break the mirror. She'd had enough bad luck for one night.
After removing the expensive underwear that now seemed like a wasted effort considering the course the night had taken, Faith carefully eased her legs over the rim of the bathtub, supporting the majority of her weight with her upper body strength and exhaled in pleasure as she slid into the hot, foamy water. She sunk deeply into the bath, leaving only her head and injured leg above the frothy surface. Faith stared sourly at the large purplish bruise running up her calf and shin before letting the leg slip carefully beneath the bubbles, hiding the damage from view.
To say the car ride to the house had been tense and awkward would have been the understatement of the century. If Xander hadn't insisted on driving them home Faith would have hopped the whole journey without a second of hesitation.
The only distraction during the journey from hell had been when Xander naively turned her car stereo on and 'You Can't Hurry Love' blasted through the speakers and caused the three of them to jump in surprise. It had almost lifted the tension completely until Xander's confused questions ended and the lyrics began to sink in. Somewhere between 'My Mama said' and 'how many heartaches must I stand' Faith's demeanour had switched from vaguely amused to sullen and unresponsive. She spent the remainder of the journey staring silently out of the side window in the backseat, Phil Collins taunting her all the way.
Faith attempted to shut out the scene and the many tiny awkward moments after it when Buffy had helped her into the house. She had practically leapt up the stairs, mumbled something about 'hitting the tub' and locked herself in the bathroom. 'Cus you're totally not a coward...' Faith heard a snide voice from inside her head. Her face creased into a frown as she ignored the voice and all the others that were currently trying their hardest to make her pack a bag and run in one direction till her feet bled.
Faith let her head sink beneath the surface and as the water pressed against her ears, silence consumed her, distorting the world of the sounds above. The fluorescent glare of the bathroom light glowed through her eyelids as her breath came slow and steady. Faith was beginning to relax.
Then the lights went out.
The submerged slayer blinked and peered up into the darkness, thinking it a trick of the mind. After a few moments passed and the bathroom remained hidden in shadow she broke the surface and sighed in defeat.
"Perfect."
She tapped her nails agitatedly on the plastic rim and tried to ignore the fact she could barely see the tap at the other end of the bath, but as the blanket of darkness pressed down on her she fidgeted anxiously, the water sloshing gently in its artificial prison. She exhaled loudly to steady her nerves and shut her eyes, determined to keep her cool in what was essentially a fancy suburban bathroom and far-flung from some creepy, vampire-infested cemetery.
However, with her eyes closed Faith found her thoughts to be her only company. Flashing images of the night came to her, like horrific photographs from a haunted house. Her heart started to thud an uneasy, quickened beat and with only the odd drip of the faucet to fill the silent bathroom her growing fear was becoming louder by the second.
Eventually she growled out in annoyance, the sound echoing slightly off the bathroom walls which hastened her otherwise begrudged movement into a sitting position. She then leant over the lip of the tub to search for the door handle. When her fingers brushed against the polished steel she traced them along the handle and down to the lock. The click of the mechanism sliding away sounded loud and frightening in the dark, causing her to open the door more hastily than she originally meant to.
The hallway was just as dark—as Faith hadn't bothered to illuminate it on her way up and now desperately wished she had. The darkness at the end of the hallway was completely impenetrable to her enhanced eyesight and staring down it racked her apprehension up another notch.
"Buffy—" Faith cleared her throat of the hovering fear that had tainted her voice and she tried again, as firmly and nonchalantly as her wits could muster, "Buffy?"
She was greeted only by the slight echo of her voice in the bathroom and nothing else.
"B, can you come up here a sec?" Faith still got no response and she pricked her ears for the smallest sound. She thought she heard the distant drone of tinny voices and background music and realised the other slayer must have been watching television. She fidgeted awkwardly as she waited in tense contemplation of what to do next, and just as she began musing on cutting her relaxation session short and ditching the bath altogether, the softest of sounds caught her ear.
Someone was coming up the stairs, albeit quietly.
"Buffy?" Faith called softly, uncertainly.
The footfalls grew closer but no one replied and Faith felt the fear inside her skyrocket. Recent events, tonight and prior, had led her to expect nothing innocent in someone or something that chose to remain silent, yet part of her was glad nothing had answered. She began searching the room blindly for a weapon, hating how vulnerable she felt in her current state, but had to remind herself that she had once fought vampires on a bus full of nuns completely nude, so fending off a shadow monster, naked in a bath would just have to be a new story for her to tell. She would live to tell this story and laugh about it one day.
"Did you call me?" The sudden voice made Faith jump and the water reacted in a way that made it impossible to hide her unusually jittery nerves. She clenched her jaw, completely and utterly frustrated with this day and it's never ending supply of treats and wished it a swift death to the hands of tomorrow.
"B?"
"What's wrong?" The familiar voice, filled with genuine concern caused a wave of relief to pass through Faith.
"The, uh, light went out." She explained bitterly, feeling like the world's wimpiest slayer.
"Oh." There was a pause and then she heard, "Hang on."
The blonde girl appeared a few minutes later with a pair of thick, short candles. "I don't know where Mom keeps the spare bulbs. You'll have to do with these for now." She hovered in the doorway as she took several attempts to light the wicks with a box of matches. Once she succeeded she entered cautiously, placing one candle on the sink and another at the end of the bath where the rim was wider. It wasn't exactly the Las Vegas Strip but when Buffy turned the landing light on the combination did enough of a good job to brighten what had only moments ago been a dark and oppressive environment.
"Thanks." Faith mumbled, now highly conscious of how only a few lingering shadows and a layer of bubbles protected her modesty.
"No problem." Buffy slapped her hands against her thighs and flashed a friendly, but nervous smile, "Well I guess I'll leave you to it..."
"Wait!" The apprehensive urgency in Faith's voice made Buffy stop. The brunette fidgeted sullenly for a moment before asking, "Do you mind...stayin' with me?"
"Uh..." The older slayer hovered in the open doorway, her hand clutching the frame as if preparing to pull herself out of the room. Faith had already expected the worse when, to her surprise, Buffy quietly said, "Sure."
Buffy scanned the small, dark room unsure of where to place herself. She finally settled for where the view of Faith's naked form was most obscured thanks to the low vantage point and Buffy's fortunate lack of height.
Several minutes of unbearably awkward silence passed at the pace of a snail's crawl. Buffy cleared her throat a few times as if she were going to speak but never did. Faith would send fleeting glances her way but look quickly away as soon as they were returned.
"Well this is romantic." Buffy quipped in an attempt to break the now suffocating smog of tension steadily filling the room. "Now all we need is a plate of spaghetti and some Italian guy playing the accordion."
"I'm guessing you're the lady in that scenario?"
"Naturally." Buffy replied not missing a beat.
Faith snorted in a curious manner that made Buffy's eyes narrow. "Hardly a competition, is it?"
"You really need to stop doing that." Buffy sighed and Faith glanced over at hearing the serious edge to her voice. She raised her eyebrows in question then realised Buffy probably couldn't see them in the darkness.
"What?"
"The constant self deprecation?" Buffy explained with growing exasperation. "You voiced some pretty big insecurities tonight."
"Do we need to get into that right now?" Faith shifted restlessly and the sound of rippling water echoed in the semi-darkness.
"Well we could sit here, in my dark bathroom, ignoring the elephant in the room—not to mention the only slightly smaller elephant that is you lying naked a foot away from me—or we could address what went down tonight like the grownup individuals I think we are." Buffy announced with wavering conviction. She glanced surreptitiously at Faith, trying to gauge if her theory was correct.
Faith glared sulkily into some dark corner of the room, her arms firmly folded across her chest. Finally, with a hopeless shrug, she said, "It is what it is, B."
"But I got the impression that you don't think you're worthy of..." Buffy faltered and Faith knew she had been about to say 'worthy of me.' Instead, she fidgeted and went with, "...something good."
"If you knew my history you'd understand how crazy just the idea of it sounds to me."
"I know the history. I aced the paper on Faith Lehane 101." Buffy said boldly. "I don't think it's crazy."
"B...you don't have to do this..." Faith groaned desperately, bringing a hand up to her forehead.
"No, I mean it." Buffy said with greater conviction. She turned slightly bashful when she added, "I just thought you were a, uh, one team kinda girl."
"I am...I mean...I don't...This," She paused to indicate the space between her and Buffy, "is just a onetime kind of thing." Faith squirmed inside the bath, hugging her chest tightly as she blushed furiously in reaction to being so honest. "I've never really felt like this for a guy. Never really wanted to screw a girl. Now I'm strikin' two for two."
"Oh." Buffy seemed completely taken aback.
"Kinda mentioned this earlier." Faith said coldly, anger simmering to the surface.
"Y-yeah I know. It's just a lot happened." Buffy replied quietly, slightly stung by Faith's tone. "I'm still processing."
Buffy looked so overwhelmed in the flicker of the candlelight that Faith's sourness softened slightly and she pushed her anger out in a single breath. "Fair point. Didn't mean to turn bitch on ya."
"It's okay." Buffy smiled. Then after a moment of tense deliberation she decided to take the conversation down an easier route, "So how's the leg?"
"You tell me?" She raised the limb in question above the bubbly surface and Buffy grimaced at the ugly bruise marring her otherwise smooth, pale skin. Buffy reached out a tentative hand and traced the shape of the unsightly injury with her fingers until Faith hissed in discomfort.
"Sorry." She said gently. Instead of withdrawing her hand though, like Faith had expected, Buffy moved it higher till it rested on Faith's knee. "Does it hurt here?" She asked with a nervous edge to her curiosity.
Faith swallowed dryly, "Not as much."
She heard Buffy audibly gulp before letting those same five fingers travel up the remainder of Faith's leg and back down to the knee, caressing her thigh at a slow, rhythmic pace. "And h-here?" She inquired with even greater trepidation evident in her trembling voice and the slight shaking of her hand. Faith couldn't even form an answer. She just stared through her lashes, the hot water contrasting electrically with the cold sweat that Buffy had caused to break out across Faith's exposed body. They were both painfully aware of how close Buffy's hand was to the top of Faith's thigh.
"B...whatcha doin'?" Faith voice cracked as she felt a surge of anxious excitement, her stomach performing the mother of all somersaults.
"Not sure." Buffy replied dreamily, seemingly mesmerised by the feel of the goose bumps that had just raced across Faith's smooth skin. Then in a breathless rush, curtly added, "Shut up a second." Faith's open mouth slammed shut and stayed that way to prevent the series of incoherent noises that wanted to escape when Buffy's fingers explored tentatively up the length of Faith's hip bone, before the flat of her palm stroked a more confident path across the brunette slayer's toned stomach. Buffy continued ever higher, the sides of her hand torturously grazing the curve of Faith's firm breasts as her fingers trailed slowly between them and paused on her chest, the palm pressed flat against Faith's breast bone. Buffy let out a small, nervous laugh and bit her lip. She looked like she couldn't believe what she'd just done.
"Your heart's racing..." Buffy stated in breathless wonder.
Faith felt strangely confident after Buffy's expedition of her body and the way the blonde was currently ogling her. A cocky grin adorned her face and she mustered the courage to say, "You have that effect on me."
At those words Buffy seemed to melt.
There was a second of hesitation and then in one swift arc her parted lips pressed hungrily against Faith's jaw, missing her mouth in nervous haste, eventually finding it a second later as she kissed the other slayer with wild abandon. Faith's lips moved automatically, her mind unable to process what was happening and then, just as the shock began to wear off and Faith was able to deliver some semblance of emotion back into the kiss, a tongue desperately pushed her lips apart and she was overwhelmed a second time. It was Buffy who finally pulled back for air; a shaky, gasping moan escaping her lips. Faith was too busy reeling; her body on the verge of meltdown, as she blinked dumbly at Buffy's parted pout that gasped for air. Her bangs were hanging in a dishevelled mess around the sides of her face, framing the hungry look in her eyes. She looked so scared and yet so alive that it was enough to drive Faith forward to capture those soft, swollen lips in another searing kiss that Buffy accepted greedily.
Buffy's free hand found its way into Faith's wet, wild tresses and then down to her neck, her delicate fingers almost clawing hungrily at the side of Faith's face as she sucked fervently on the other slayer's bottom lip. When she bit down, hard enough to pierce the sensitive skin, Faith only moaned encouragement, loving how the intensity of the blonde's actions mirrored many of her fantasies. She'd known Buffy was capable of this. She'd known the slayer was a violent, primal animal that liked taking what it wanted, but to actually experience it was a whole other level of nirvana that Faith was struggling to keep up with. Now she knew how all her 'quick fixes' felt.
She could feel the fingers of Buffy's right hand flex and stroke against her chest, fingernails trailing with just enough pressure across her skin. But when Faith attempted to sit up so she had better access to Buffy's neck she found herself unable to move. She reluctantly pulled away from the kiss; the lusty-eyed glare being shot her way told her Buffy wasn't happy about it either.
"You wanna let me up here?" Faith purred, her voice husky and low, as she ran her thumb along Buffy's jutting bottom lip, "There's half a dozen places I've been dyin' to kiss you and it ain't gonna happen unless you hold back on the death grip."
Buffy shot her a mischievous smile before attempting to continue the heated kiss she'd just interrupted. Faith pushed Buffy back and held her at a distance, "B, I'm serious. Stop screwin' around."
Buffy continued to smile, clearly undeterred, and quickly leant forward to press her lips along Faith's jaw and up the side of her face. Her tongue darted expertly along Faith's earlobe and the brunette shivered despite her growing impatience. "Faith..." Buffy's moan was thick and desperate against the side of her face.
"Yeah..." Faith murmured back incoherently as Buffy's hot breath tickled her neck.
She felt the other slayer smile; her teeth pressed against her ear. The word she whispered into Faith's ear came from a voice that resembled the hiss of an angry snake, "...Psssssssssyche..."
Without warning the bathroom door slammed shut, killing the candlelight as Faith heard the lock click back into place by itself. Faith whipped her head around in the pitch black and almost screamed as she saw the luminescent white eyes and gruesome piranha smile that stretched across Buffy's face, shimmering vividly in the dark. The hideous visage flashed before her for an instant and then Faith was being forced aggressively beneath the water's surface.
Bathwater, bubbles and all, streamed down her throat as she cried out in shock, her arms thrashing wildly trying to grab hold of the arm pushing down on her head. She tried to buck her hips and kick out at her assailant but the hand on her chest slithered down to her stomach, pushing down and pinning her to the bottom of the bathtub with incredible force.
She lashed out with her fist, connecting with what used to be Buffy's face. She felt the weight on her fall away and managed to break the surface; the contents of the bath splashing upward over the sides as she coughed water from her lungs and attempted to suck in one huge breathe before screaming, "BUFFY—!"
The name barely left her lips before she was struck sharply against the temple and was sent back beneath the water in a painful daze. As consciousness started to slip from her grasp—swallowed by hazy darkness—a loud, urgent thud boomed over the deafening sound of water rushing against her eardrums.
There was an almighty crunch as the bathroom door splintered near the handle. Then with the sound of ricocheting metal the lock broke and the door swung inwards, banging loudly against the tiled wall and scattering the shadows to the darkest corners. Buffy charged into the room, her face a mask of merciless anger. She'd heard Faith's cry and been jolted from a restless sleep; the nagging worry in the back of her mind that she'd ignored exploding into a blaring siren of panic.
Something was in the house.
She'd been ready to break bones but now, facing the unwelcomed guest, she gasped in horror and took a step back from her monstrous twin. Its face contorted back to one that perfectly mimicked hers and a sickly sweet smile curved across her pouting lips. It blew her a kiss and before Buffy could reply with a kick to the face the doppelganger melted into its own shadow. The pool of black elongated across the bathroom tiles before a hissing shriek was uttered and the shadow shot by her, running along the walls of the landing and down the stairs with terrifying speed.
Buffy stared after it, watching the front door visibly shudder as it slipped beneath it. The slayer stood in stunned silence until she shook away the fear and bolted back into the bathroom, greeted by the motionless body inside the bath. "Faith!"
She was panicking now and the blonde slayer dropped to her knees to lift Faith's limp body from the bath so her head was no longer submerged. She shook the unresponsive girl frantically by the shoulders.
"Oh god, Faith, don't do this!" Buffy cried desperately, beginning to fear the worse. She started wracking her brain for the correct procedure for ressucitation, a sob escaping her as she placed two hands tentatively on the centre of her chest. But before she could administer the first compression Faith jolted upwards with a spluttering gasp. Water poured from her mouth as she coughed and inhaled a lungful of air.
Her eyes shot open and jumped wildly around the room. She spotted Buffy and in a fit of sheer panic punched her square in the jaw.
"No it's me!" Buffy reassured, recovering almost instantly from the blow. She tried to settle Faith down by placing a calming hand on her shoulder but the other girl flinched and Buffy drew her hand away quickly. She raised both hands in defence before repeating firmly, "It's me."
Faith slowly regained her composure but she kept fixating on Buffy's eyes as if fearfully searching for something she didn't want to find. After finally accepting that she was faced with the real Buffy, Faith demonstrated a rare moment of humility and covered her naked form as best she could.
"Did I just drown?" Faith asked hoarsely. When Buffy nodded numbly, still recuperating from her minor panic attack, the brunette let her head thud against the rim of the bath and exhaled shakily, "Not a fan."
Between laboured breathes a small smile graced Buffy's lips. "Welcome to the club."
Riley Finn walked across the concrete floor of the Initiative base deep in thought. He stopped at the railing that overlooked the open surgical area below and his fingers tightened around the cold steel. Two surgeons worked carefully on a thorny-faced demon with reddish skin. Half its organs lay in metallic vessels on a tray beside the operating table. Riley felt inexplicably ill at the scene and it caused him to draw his pensive gaze from the mechanical ministrations of the doctors below. Looking around the base Riley noticed how quiet it was despite the late hour, with only a few personnel scattered around the huge underground facility. It caused the clink of the surgeons' instruments to echo without interruption into the empty bunker. A brisk slap on his back pulled Riley's attention sharply around and he found Forrest smirking at him.
"Aw, what's the matter, Finn?" His friend said with feigned concern as he took in Riley's brooding expression, "Date not go well?"
"It was fine." Riley said flatly standing a little taller as he pretended to be fascinated by a forklift that drove passed, burdened by a heavy crate with an emblem printed on its side that warned of its contents high flammability.
"Hmm, fine." Forrest said with suspicion as his arms folded across his chest. "Fine's never good. What happened? Blondie not put out?"
"I'm not dignifying that with an answer." Riley stated firmly with a shake of his head as he pushed away from the railing and headed toward the lockers.
"So that's a big no." Forrest grinned as he walked beside his taller friend.
Riley rolled his eyes but a coy flicker of a smile betrayed his neutral expression, before he changed the topic to something he found more pressing and asked, "Where's Professor Walsh?"
Grudgingly accepting that he'd get nothing further out of him Forrest shrugged and turned serious, "No idea, but you don't wanna find her." He stated with a look of warning.
"What?"Riley looked at his friend strangely. "Why?"
"She's in a foul mood, man. And I say that knowing what she's like on a normal day." Forrest clarified with an expression of disbelief. "Some of the guys say she's been muttering to herself too."
Riley looked unconvinced. "I'm well aware of what certain unnamed individuals say behind the Professor's back," He stole an accusing glance at Forrest before continuing, "She's probably just stressed." Considering recent events he wouldn't have blamed her for being a little overworked.
"No man, everyone's noticed." Forrest pressed as his voice lowered to just above a whisper, "Even Dr Angleman. He's just too chicken to ask her about it." Checking that no one was close enough to overhear the conversation he added, "If you ask me the monster she's got in that Frankenstein shark cage is starting to get to her." Riley stopped rummaging through his locker but continued to stare passively at its contents as growing apprehension pooled in his stomach. "I've caught her staring at it—like she's transfixed."
A disjointed, jittery image of events in the alley earlier that night flashed in Riley's head. He'd thought the sinister thing he'd witnessed outside the bronze to be a separate entity, but after Forrest's comment he was now making connections between the nebulous, shadowy mass in the Initiatives custody and the very solid, very dangerous creature that had attacked in the alley. For one, both had a penchant for the colour black and ungodly, terrifying smiles.
"I think I met its big brother tonight." Riley quietly announced, removing his uniform from his locker before closing it. He decided to leave out the part where two civilian women inexplicably fought the creature off; he was still working that one out himself since Buffy had hastily brushed his questions aside and quickly left to take care of her friend. The thought occurred to him that maybe Buffy and the brunette practiced more than just mixed martial arts.
"There's another one of those things out there?" Forrest asked incredulously, drawing Riley from his thoughts. An armed soldier walked passed them to his locker and the pair did their best to act out a casual conversation until the soldier left.
"Not exactly." Riley continued as he kept a wary eye on the retreating serviceman. He was beginning to wonder himself just how many versions this hostile came in and what its numbers were. "But I think whatever's happening in this town is getting worse."
"We should gear up." Forest said solemnly as his military mind kicked in to gear. "We track it down and bring it in."
"No."
"Why not?" The solider scowled at Riley.
"Trust me. I got a good look at this thing and what it's capable of. It'd be a suicide mission." He stated grimly, "All we know about these things is what they tell us. Have you noticed how little Intel we get? I mean Walsh has kept details to a minimum before but this time..." Riley shook his head slightly, his eyes scanning warily around for anyone trying to eavesdrop. "They're not telling us something important."
Forrest considered Riley's words with a grave expression. "We should corner Rubinstein. He's the expert, right?"
At that moment hurried movement caught their eye and both soldiers watched as a group of orderlies quickly transported someone on a wheeled stretcher to the infirmary. Thinking the worst, Riley jogged over expecting to see Walsh rambling unintelligibly to herself, but on closer inspection he discovered the occupant to be a man he only vaguely recognised.
It was Dr Rubinstein.
He had always come across a little peculiar and had a haunted air about him, but most importantly his persona had been that of the shy, retiring type. The delirious, gibbering maniac laid before Riley now was starkly terrifying in comparison.
"What's wrong with him?"
"He's become overly aggressive and uncooperative." One of the orderlies explained through laboured breaths as he tried to help the others restrain the patient, "The sedatives aren't working—
Rubinstein suddenly tore one hand free from his restraints and seized Riley around the collar.
"Lauft! Lauft um euer Leben!" He bellowed in his face, his eyes wide and filled with deranged panic. The orderlies struggled to force the shouting German back onto the gurney as Riley stood in stunned silence. Rubenstein rolled and twisted continuously as they finally tightened the restraints.
"Please, we need to move now! Out of the way!" One of the female orderlies barked and Riley jumped back like he had been stung, jolting out of his daze. He watched with alarm as the man continued to writher and rant in the restraints of the stretcher as it was wheeled away.
"What the hell was that about?" Forrest voiced Riley's thoughts aloud, looking disturbed by the Doctor's apparent mental breakdown.
"I have no idea." Riley said in a state of shock. "But I don't think I'll be getting a chance to ask him about what I saw tonight anytime soon."
"This can't be good." Forrest shook his head in agitation. "Tellin' you, Finn, that monster needs to be put down or relocated before anyone else starts losing their goddamn mind."
Riley couldn't disagree with that statement but the fact stood that he nor, as far as he knew, anyone else in the Initiative had the knowledge or means to overcome the malevolent force emerging from the shadows of Sunnydale.
But then there was Buffy.
TBC