Title: Not Just Her Shadow Anymore.
Author: Firecracker
Disclaimer: I own nothing. Yet.
Rating: R there's some cursing.
Spoilers: Nah, I don't think so. One or two, early seasons.
Archive: Sure, just mail me a little note on where so I can get my dose of ego boost.
Feedback: Just a line might help me write more.
Summary: Faith talks about Buffy after she's dead.
Dedication: To my precious kitten, Mood Indigo, who's been showing off some major claws and a bitch streak lately. Love 'ya more for it babe, forgiven always.
(not beta'ed, just some lame idea I got one night.)
|--------------------------------------------------|
I got a letter today.
From the Council, nonetheless.
It's kinda crumpled now, I guess paper wasn't made for being crumpled and straightened, oh, let's say a thousand times?
SunnyD is probably wigged out still. Her precious Scoobies are probably crying their eyes out at the mention of her name.
I bet they still think she was such a saint.
Jeez, poor naive things.
Really, they know shit.
I can give you the nickel tour of Elizabeth Anne "Buffy" Summers if you want, bet it'll change how you look at her.
She loved the fighting as much as I do.
The rush. It's un-fucking-believeable.
You're on the top of the world, and nothing can beat you. Nothing.
That's the main reason to why no slayers never became drug addicts.
I mean, sure, the metabolism is a bitch, we'd need ten times than what a mere mortal would, but it wouldn't matter. No drug could get us higher than the rush of fighting. And nothing is more addictive.
Afterwards, you just get hungry and horny.
Of course, 'holier-than-thou' would never admit that.
"I really just feel like a low fat yoghurt and then go to sleep."
Bullshit.
All tiny and petite, she could easily fool you. And she probably did. But let me tell you, Buffy Summers would eat twice her weight every day if she could, and you bet she did pretty damn often.
And then just go to sleep?
Hell no. Have you ever tried going to sleep after a night of slaying vampires?
Of course you fucking haven't. And I can't even start to tell you what you're missing out on.
But you get wicked horny. And blondie must have been a world champion in getting herself off, or I doubt she could ever have slept much.
A wild thing in bed too.
X-man and red would never have guessed.
She would sneak into my motel room late at night, strip off and get into my bed, kissing me awake, or she would just follow me there after slaying.
Sometimes we fucked in the graveyards, sometimes in one of the numerous crypts.
She knew what she wanted, and damn did she make it clear.
And Angel?
Never heard her even mutter anything about him. Like brooding-R-us never existed.
We'd lie in bed afterwards, cuddled, I never smoked then.
And we talked.
Real deep shit, not just "That was one great fuck, how do you think the weather's going to be tomorrow? Rain?"
She understood me, and I understood her.
She drank like a fish too. Anything with more than 10% alcohol went straight down. We need some way to forget sometimes, all the shit that's been put on us by the fucked up Powers That Be.
Jail sucks.
Reckon I'll do it a bit longer though.
I know a guy on the outside, he'll make me literally disappear from any records.
And afterwards?
I really don't know. But I am something now.
The chosen one. Not just the second choice, slayer Nr. 2.
Not just her shadow anymore.
END
So, what did 'ya think? Worth continuing? Want more? Please feed my ego. =D
Author: Firecracker
Disclaimer: I own nothing. Yet.
Rating: R there's some cursing.
Spoilers: Nah, I don't think so. One or two, early seasons.
Archive: Sure, just mail me a little note on where so I can get my dose of ego boost.
Feedback: Just a line might help me write more.
Summary: Faith talks about Buffy after she's dead.
Dedication: To my precious kitten, Mood Indigo, who's been showing off some major claws and a bitch streak lately. Love 'ya more for it babe, forgiven always.
(not beta'ed, just some lame idea I got one night.)
|--------------------------------------------------|
I got a letter today.
From the Council, nonetheless.
It's kinda crumpled now, I guess paper wasn't made for being crumpled and straightened, oh, let's say a thousand times?
SunnyD is probably wigged out still. Her precious Scoobies are probably crying their eyes out at the mention of her name.
I bet they still think she was such a saint.
Jeez, poor naive things.
Really, they know shit.
I can give you the nickel tour of Elizabeth Anne "Buffy" Summers if you want, bet it'll change how you look at her.
She loved the fighting as much as I do.
The rush. It's un-fucking-believeable.
You're on the top of the world, and nothing can beat you. Nothing.
That's the main reason to why no slayers never became drug addicts.
I mean, sure, the metabolism is a bitch, we'd need ten times than what a mere mortal would, but it wouldn't matter. No drug could get us higher than the rush of fighting. And nothing is more addictive.
Afterwards, you just get hungry and horny.
Of course, 'holier-than-thou' would never admit that.
"I really just feel like a low fat yoghurt and then go to sleep."
Bullshit.
All tiny and petite, she could easily fool you. And she probably did. But let me tell you, Buffy Summers would eat twice her weight every day if she could, and you bet she did pretty damn often.
And then just go to sleep?
Hell no. Have you ever tried going to sleep after a night of slaying vampires?
Of course you fucking haven't. And I can't even start to tell you what you're missing out on.
But you get wicked horny. And blondie must have been a world champion in getting herself off, or I doubt she could ever have slept much.
A wild thing in bed too.
X-man and red would never have guessed.
She would sneak into my motel room late at night, strip off and get into my bed, kissing me awake, or she would just follow me there after slaying.
Sometimes we fucked in the graveyards, sometimes in one of the numerous crypts.
She knew what she wanted, and damn did she make it clear.
And Angel?
Never heard her even mutter anything about him. Like brooding-R-us never existed.
We'd lie in bed afterwards, cuddled, I never smoked then.
And we talked.
Real deep shit, not just "That was one great fuck, how do you think the weather's going to be tomorrow? Rain?"
She understood me, and I understood her.
She drank like a fish too. Anything with more than 10% alcohol went straight down. We need some way to forget sometimes, all the shit that's been put on us by the fucked up Powers That Be.
Jail sucks.
Reckon I'll do it a bit longer though.
I know a guy on the outside, he'll make me literally disappear from any records.
And afterwards?
I really don't know. But I am something now.
The chosen one. Not just the second choice, slayer Nr. 2.
Not just her shadow anymore.
END
So, what did 'ya think? Worth continuing? Want more? Please feed my ego. =D