Note: Lots of swearing, and some dream sex (not too explicit, but maybe a little demented). Just a warning. Also, I couldn't figure out a good title for this chapter. Corny, yes. Also lots for fighting.
Chapter Eight – You Gotta Have Faith
Faith walked up to him, a shard of glass poised in her hand to strike. She laughed at him, taunting him, screaming at him. He had no idea what she said, nothing was coming out. No sound at all.
She finally reached where he was sitting. His body wasn't bound, but still he could not move. It was as if some other force held him down.
Smiling as she traced his scar on his neck, her body straddled his on the chair. She looked directly into his eyes, willing him to move.
It was just like when she tortured him, but not. Her body ground up against his. His gasp of surprise, oh that he heard in his mind. This was just another form of torture in her eyes.
Her hands forced his head up to look at her as she moved up and down over him. The glass glinted off of a light that was shining from overhead. She lightly dragged the shard over his bare shoulder and down his arm, not breaking the skin, but not exactly lovingly either.
He could feel his heartbeat faster and faster. Did she intend to kill him or tease him? Or maybe both? Her eyes never broke contact with his. Even as she dragged the glass further down, he still looked into her eyes, challenging her.
The glass smashed to the floor as she brutally took his mouth with hers. Soon to a different kind of game, he thought.
Her motions hadn't stopped. He tried to control his reactions, which she was having a difficult time doing. The woman was extremely turned on, that he could sense. But here they were, both with most of their clothes on, facing each other, in a chair in a desolate room.
Then, he was finally able to move, somehow willed away his invisible bonds. Now it was Faith's turn to gasp as his hand snaked up her back to her hair.
As he pulled her head back, her hips slammed into him once again. If she didn't stop her actions soon, he knew he'd lose it just like a schoolboy with his first girl.
He took control away from her as he stilled her hips with his other hand. As his lips touched her racing pulse on her neck, he almost did lose control. Her heart raced just as fast as his did. He could feel it under his tongue as he licked his way down.
Her taste was exotic, all hot and musky. He could feel her tremble as he kissed lower until he reached the band of her low-cut top.
Keeping her still any longer was not an option, so he did the next best thing. His hips collided with hers instead. And she went off like a rocket, thighs almost crushing his, screaming at the top of her lungs.
He had caused it, but hadn't joined her yet. A hand shaking him awake took him out of the dream way too fast.
"Hey, wake up. It's almost morning," Connor called to him. Damn kid had terrible timing.
Wesley really, really needed to find Faith and quickly. Otherwise his mind and body would be way too distracted. He wanted to know what kind of hold she had on him.
She screamed and gasped as the dream that seemed all too real awoke her. Faith looked around the room, not knowing where she was at the moment. Her body came awake finally, coming down from some sweet, incredible torture of a dream she had just experienced.
Her dreams were becoming more vivid as the days went on. Why, she didn't know. But if she didn't figure it out soon, she'd go crazy. Already her skin crawled.
Sitting up, she realized that morning was fast approaching. She needed to move, keep up her search. The whole world had turned topsy-turvy, including her own.
When she told Giles she'd do it, well, she hadn't expected the trouble she was getting herself into. God, if she had to crack one more demon's skull, she'd be sick. This was not the way to live. No backup was no fun at all.
Picking herself up, she quickly washed away some of the dirt from her face. Finding a place to crash hadn't been easy, but at least she had a little water.
The traveling was slow and tedious. The few humans she had encountered were either too scared to talk to her or just as vicious as the demons. Had to stay alive, she thought.
She packed her meager possessions in her backpack and set out for her Jeep. Two weeks of this crap and she was ready to turn around and give up. But she had promised.
The dreams hadn't helped her one bit. She'd never had any kind of dreams like that until recently, maybe a couple of months going. And of course, they had to star him. Why couldn't it have been Xander or even Angel in her oh, so real dreams?
No, it had to be Wesley Wyndam-Pryce and that proverbial stick up his ass attitude that had first made her squirm. Now he was making her squirm in different ways.
Dammit, had she ever thought about him in that way. The man had looked like a stick in the mud the first time she had seen him in the library in Sunnydale. He with his fancy suit, slicked back hair, clean-shaven baby face.
What she really had wanted to do was go and mess up that perfect hair and suit. Which is what she did the next time she'd seen him.
She had thought at the time that torturing him would get him out of her mind. Only it didn't. And she had discovered he wasn't the wuss everyone thought him to be.
Torturing him was supposed to give her some type of pleasure, making him pay for all that he had done to her.
Right before he had told her what he really thought of her, she seriously considered letting him go. But he hadn't screamed, hadn't broken down. And he thought that she was a piece of shit. If he had just whined a little.
The next time she saw him, he shocked her. The hard look in his eyes threw her. He needed her help, catching Angelus. His every move, demeanor had changed. His looks, the way he carried himself. Was this the same man she had tortured?
Everyone else would probably have said no, he wasn't the same. Even she would agree with that a little. But she realized that this was just one other facet of her watcher. This man was every bit that man she tortured, every bit the man she had first met in the library.
Complex, demanding, tall, tortured, burning blue eyes. She wanted to scream at him, "I'm yours, all of me," at him several times, but never had the chance. She had taken down Angelus, helped cage him so Willow could use her magicks, then left to help Buffy, always promising herself she'd return.
After the battle with the First, she almost had. Those intense blue eyes of his haunted her constantly. She had to find out what kind of connection they had. And she knew there was some truth to that when she had said goodbye to him just before going to Sunnydale. No one had seen them, but when he had pulled her into a corner and kissed her silly, she knew something was different.
She had tried to forget him by coming on to Spike, and then bedding Robin, but nothing helped. So she promised herself she'd go back and screw his brains out until she tired of him.
Getting him out of her brain in the waking hours was hard enough. Then she started experiencing all sorts of strange dreams. The gore and violence had even shocked her. Is that how sick and fucked up her mind was?
It was the erotic ones she didn't understand. Reliving the torture session had once made her puke. Now it was erotic with good ole' Wes in charge.
Her brain hurt too much thinking about it. She'd make it down to Palm Springs if she didn't run into the slayer before then. Grabbing the slayer and the brat and getting the hell out of Dodge was her plan.
Wished that the spooks could have dropped her just a little closer. Giles was lucky to get the favor, so she shouldn't complain.
Buffy'd owe her big time for this one. If she was still alive. Too damn stubborn to die. B had floundered a little since the First went down. Losing Spike had really hit her hard. Nobody knew just how hard, except for Faith.
Now, the West Coast had gone crazy and Faith was on a rescue mission.
No one had heard from anyone at Angel Investigations. That worried her more. They were in the thick of things. But she knew that crew could take care of themselves. She just wished she knew something.
Maybe after she saved B's ass, she'd look for them. She owed them too. It would take her decades to pay off all the debts she had racked up.
God, it had been slow going. The roads were in crappy shape and you never knew when a demon would pop out. Too many times in her book.
As she looked out at the horizon, she thought she saw a car moving toward her. Trick of the road. There were trees on both sides, pretty and green.
Which of course distracted her. A demon had stepped out in front of her car. Her Jeep skidded out of the way, only to crash into a gutted tanker. God, she hoped there was no gas left in it.
As she shucked her seat belt, she felt blood trickle down her face. That really hadn't fazed her. It was the slamming into the steering wheel that took her breath away. No airbag.
"Fuck, that hurt," she said to no one. She looked up to see three very large, scaly demons approaching.
"Pull it together."
Faith leapt out of the damaged car, crossbow at the ready. She always was better with her fists than weapons. But Giles had insisted. Winging one, it slowed a little. Ticked it off, more than likely.
"Wanna dance?" she yelled at the first one to reach her.
TBC
So, what do you think? Took long enough, didn't I? Just write it as it comes into my little brain. I'll post one more chapter today. I hate to leave people hanging. Unlike some person we know who likes to do that all the time. Any guesses? Keep reading and reviewing.