Okay people, I wrote this, ages ago and realized it started to wither and die even as I was writing it. I thought if I let it sit and simmer for a bit I'd gain back the will to finish it and fix the shitty bits. That didn't work out so good. Anyways; this is as far as I got and I didn't want to no post it after trying to make some of it work. If people are interested; I'll post the Cliff-notes version of the last of it. Enjoy. VixenRaign
Title: Lazy August
Rating: PWP
Disclaimer: Not Mine!
Reason: PWP Fest for Dallas's B-Day at Passionate Oasis.
Part Two Of Unknown.
Date: August 2nd, 2004
Please Note: Almost everything in this fic is based on something in life. Please keep this in mind when reading. Please also note that it's working it's way towards Smut – which is not easy for me.
"Lazy August, pt. 2"
Faith carefully readjusted the cups in her hands as she made her way back to their room. Braving the slight maze of halls and stairs in this feux-adobe hotel/resort they'd pulled into, she made her way to room 312 with ease. It had not always been so easy, that was for sure. Pulling out the key-card from her waist-band, she turned the knob and walked in to the room.
It was dark, darker than it was out-side, and cold. As ever, the AC was on, but it must have been turned up, as it was almost uncomfortably cold in the room. Almost – had it not been at least 90 even out in the hall, at 10:30 at night. Walking over to the keypad next to the bathroom's alcove, she reset it back to low. Flipping all the switches, as she didn't know what ones did what, she heard a slight groan as all the lights came on. Faith sighed ruefully.
Taking a cup in each hand again, she walked over the first bed, closest to the door, and placed the fuller one on the single night table. She slid along the edge of the bed, laying out next to the lump under the single sheet that adorned it, the quilt that it had been given tossed onto one of the sitting chairs out on the porch.
"B, when you told me you were coming here to rest, I didn't know you meant bed-rest." Faith said teasingly, the rumpled tuft of hair poking out over the pillows quivered slightly – but other than that there was no response. "I don't get it, why are you so tired? For three days, you're up when breakfast is delivered, and after that you lay by the pool and relax while you tan all day… Then, as soon as the sun sets, you're in bed sleeping. I know you're worn out B, but if all you're gonna do is tan and sleep, you could have done that in LA…"
There was still no response. Wanting to make sure she hadn't just given that little speech to a sleeping woman, she reached under the sheet with a sneaky hand. When she found a familiar small wrist, she tugged it, attempting to pull the girl from the bed. What she found, however, as the rest of the arm up to the shoulder was exposed, made her eyes widen in shock.
"Shit B…" she whispered, voice shaking slightly at the sight before her. Buffy's response was a deep, guttural groan, turning into a sickly gurgle by the time it tapered off into nothing. "What the fuck happened to you?" The skin of her arm was so red it looked more like some kind of under-cooked meat than a human appendage. The skin of the once freckled shoulder was so dark it was almost purple, the speckled dots turned black nearly. Flicking back the sheet finally, she found a drawn and pained face instead of the Slayer she'd had seen the night before.
"I'm sick." She said, voice like gravel, sounding weak.
"B, you're sun burned. Like, real bad… are you okay?" Faith asked, knowing that it was a stupid question. Buffy gave a cough and it sounded wet, like there was something in her mouth.
"I'm sorry I didn't meet you for dinner like I said." She whispered, sounding weak. This seemed to strike something inside Faith, as it made her smile genuinely, leaning down to push the tousled hair from the older girl's eyes. She simply shook her head, the feeling of need to care for this girl so foreign yet undeniable somehow.
"Don't worry about it. I ate." She stated, making sure that it was unanimously considered unimportant from then on, "What happened to you, babe, you look a little over-done?" she said, delicately running her finger through light blonde locks. Buffy cleared her throat again and blinked slowly and un-evenly.
"When I came back to the room to take a shower before dinner, I passed the bathroom mirror. I saw how red I was… I thought it was bad then, I had no idea." She sighed regretfully and looked up at the brunette apologetically, "I fell asleep in the sun, roasted my skin something awful. They think I must have slept something like 8 hours out there," as soon as she said 'they', Faith knew this was something more than just skin-related pain.
"I didn't get up to swim, I didn't order any drinks, I had just slept, and I got really dehydrated. More than that, since today was a lot hotter than it's been lately, I must have picked the worse day for this to happen. After trying to take a shower and failing, I started getting sick. Really sick. I couldn't stop, and I got scared. I called the front desk and they sent a doctor to see me…" She coughed a few times and groaned with pinched eyes.
"I've got sun-stroke." She grunted. Instantly Faith's eyes widened with worry. Truth be told, she wasn't so sure what that meant, but she knew it was serious; something people were hospitalized for sometimes.
"Are you gonna be okay, B? I mean – shouldn't we get you somewhere? Get you checked out?" She asked, surprised at the amount of worry in her voice. Buffy shook her head with considerable effort and spoke again.
"He said it was only mild. They had the hotel staff bring up bags of ice, they told me to stay in the ice-bath until it was all melted. I must have only gotten out an hour before you came in…" she said tiredly. "The manager said that if I end up having to be hospitalized they'd pay for all our room-service as an apology for not keeping a closer eye on me." Faith chuckled at that.
"Wanna fake some symptoms, save us a few bucks?" the brunette joked, trying to lighten the mood. This made Buffy laughed a bit too, the movement jostling her and making her moan in pain a bit. Faith patted her hair again gently, trying to calm her down.
"I might not have to fake it. All I can hope is that my Slayer healing can stretch far enough to have me feeling better by tomorrow morning. God, what I wouldn't give for that." She said sounding almost sleepy. Faith gently touched the backs of her fingers against the Slayer's pink cheek. It seemed that the blonde's face was the only think that's been saved from the scorching sun, turned only pink from the heat of hiding under the sheet.
It was then that Faith noticed there were no bra-straps on the blonde's shoulders. Slowly pulling the sheet down, she heard Buffy hiss lightly, but noticed her to be exposed as far as she dared pull the sheet – which was still pretty low. It seemed that from head to the dimples at the small of her back, the blonde was naked, and Faith would bet good money that pattern continued on down to the tips of the woman's toes.
"Oh gods," Buffy seemed to push out, forcing Faith's attention somewhere besides all the exposed and marred skin before her. It was still strikingly beautiful, even if it was red as a tomato. "Everything against my skin hurts; every thread of fabric, every brush of wind – even from the air conditioner! That's why I even bothered with the sheet! . . . it's all painful . . ." she said slowly, and Faith noted a hint of almost sobbing to it.
Faith sighed. This was not how she had planned to spend her night, not in the slightest. But that thought only occupied her mind for a moment before it was pushed out again; she had things to do. Gently patting the girls head to get her attention, picking up the all but forgotten cup she'd left on their nightstand.
"Here B, drink this." The brunette said, handing it to the older woman, noticing she had trouble just moving to take it from her. "I'll be right back, and when I do, I want that cup empty, you hear me?" She said, trying to sound authoritative, yet still caring. Buffy took a sip and coughed.
"What is this?" she grunted, still coughing.
"A Cobo-Wabo Margarita!" Faith said excitedly, "They're pretty good. Plus, it'll help; make you feel a bit more numb. Trust me; I've had more than a few since we got here" she said with a saucy wink. Buffy just chuckled.
"Faith, I don't think this is such a good idea. I'm dehydrated; drinking doesn't seem like a very smart idea." She said, almost as though asking a question. Faith just got up, giving her a stern look.
"Drink. Now. I'll be back in a few minutes; we'll have you feeling better in no time." Faith sounded sure of herself, so Buffy believed her.
Slowly drinking down the highly potent and bitter cocktail, she coughed, sputtered and her way to the bottom of the clear plastic cup with the brightly colored umbrella in it. by the time she'd finished, and she was starting to feel a warmth in her stomach that had nothing to do with her burns or sickness, Faith had come back, slightly clunking in whatever she was doing just out of Buffy's line of vision.
She'd heard water running, and the clinking of ice in the bucket Faith had under her arm. In her hand she held a wet wash-cloth and a bottle of Aloe Vera. Placing the bucket of ice between the pillows on Buffy's bed, she pulled the sheet down just a bit more so that as she rolled it up, it rested against the curve of the blonde's butt. Gently hoisting a leg over the girl, she gave the plastic bottle a squeeze, spreading the goo out over the cold, wet towel.
"Alright, now we're gonna make your out-side match the insides…" she said slowly, trying to get the gel evenly over it's surface.
"What do you mean?" Buffy asked, sounding worried, and more than just a smidge nervous about their current intimate-positions. Faith just chuckled.
"I'm gonna cover you with Aloe, babe – head to toe." With that she tossed the bottle into the ice-bucket allowing it to cool.
"Head to toe!" Buffy squeaked, Faith was glad the girl couldn't see the gleam in her eye. She always did love making the older woman squirm; this was sure to do it!
"Yup. But that's not what I'm worrying about. You said that even a breeze hurts you?" The blonde nodded, "Well, that means putting this Aloe on is gonna be somewhat less than comfortable…" with that she placed a hand on the other woman's shoulder, gripping it both comfortingly and firmly. "But remember; if we do this you'll heal a lot faster and your skin will be happier for it. If we don't then you'll peal, and then you'll be in pain all over again – not to mention have blotchy skin." Buffy just nodded
"Just do it." she said solidly. Faith sighed, slowly placing the gel-side of her towel in her hand against the red skin of the woman under her. At first the blonde gasped loudly in shock, the coldness of the gel both soothing but even more shocking against her highly sensitive skin. But as Faith drew the cloth down her skin along her spine, the gasp turned into a wail of pain.
"AHHHHH!" She cried out loudly, grabbing the ice bucket in both hands and squeezing its wooden frame. If it wasn't for the awkward angle she was lying in, and the way her fingers wrapped around the poor, defenseless pail, Faith was sure it would have splintered. The cries that Buffy was giving out and the way her arms shook with the effort of squeezing the bucket was effecting Faith a great deal. Remembering that there was indeed a time when she would have wanted nothing more than this made her stomach churn violently as she made another pass with the towel up the girls back, and the older woman let out another cry of pain.
Prone, naked, and writhing weakly in sickness and pain underneath her was how she'd envisioned Buffy over four years ago, back when she was angry with her. Yes, she'd wanted to hurt her. Quite often it was visions of how great her revenge would be once the blonde realized she was playing her for a fool that kept her sane when the counsel would run their tests or the scoobies would talk about her like a thing rather than a person when they thought she couldn't hear. But she never hated Buffy.
As simple as that would have made things for her, she never did, and she doubted she ever could. Sure, don't get her wrong; she hated all the Scoobies at one time or another, and Angel was just so easy to hate that it took almost no effort, but she'd always had this weirdness to her about Buffy. she didn't exactly know what it was, but she'd always played it off as a Slayer thing. She just knew that when Buffy was unhappy, she was unhappy, when Buffy hurt, she hurt too. But the thing that bothered her the most was that it didn't seem to go both ways.
When Faith wanted, Buffy didn't want, at least she said she didn't, and more often than not it was convincing enough to be true. and When Faith was in so much pain after the incident with Allen Finch, she didn't buy that Buffy was hurting, not like she'd been, hadn't been panicked and scared and guilty like she'd been. So when Buffy could go on once Faith's betrayal was known, she knew she had to hurt her somehow, the only problem was... she couldn't.
She couldn't hurt Buffy herself. She knew it from the start, from the first time it'd been hurt fault the blonde had been in Pain. When she watched Buffy fight Khakistos as she watched, frightened beyond all her dreams, from the floor as the older girl fought and was losing with the old vampire, it hurt so much inside the brunette. So when it looked like perhaps Buffy might be killed, Faith jumped into action. Some part of her told her that if Buffy died, she would be killed too. she might go on breathing, and her heart might still have been beating had she not been killed by the Vamp as well, but some part of her -- she knew -- would have died if Buffy did.
So when the time came, to hurt Buffy, she knew she had to hurt her friends to get to her. otherwise, the pain would be too great within her self. she felt as though she was already pushing the limitations with what had already gone on, and she didn't think she could take anymore. but, if she hurt one or more of the Scoobies, then Buffy's pain internally would match her own. that's not to say that her plan worked. True, she did get more than just a bit of sick satisfaction from watching Buffy freak-out and panic over Angel and Willow, but for the most part her plan back-fired.
It was in watching the lengths she could push Buffy to that she realized how sick she'd become. She didn't like the Buffy she'd created; she had liked the often sickly-sweet bubble-gum cuteness and niceness of the girl she'd met after arriving. so when she was face to face with the girl, a split second before that knife was rammed into her gut -- she got a good, solid look at the chaos she'd created. She hated what she did, and she hated the person she'd been forced to become after that just to deal with the guilt and pain, so when she witness the extent of how far she'd pushed Buffy... she wound in her side was nothing compared to the pain she felt at knowing she'd turned the blonde into the same person she hated herself for being.
But when that look or regret and shock at what the blonde had actually done came across those soft lips and the dark, hardened, steely gaze was lifted from those eyes Faith found herself looking into, she realized; she owed someone -- Big Time! whatever had allowed Buffy to retain that goodness inside her, no matter the lengths she was pushed, no matter how far off the edge she went or hurt Faith, she still knew that was she did was wrong. and more than that, she was able to remain who she was -- the person she had grown to be could hold that pain and guilt. she was better than Faith. and for that the brunette would forever be thankful.
And the fact that as Buffy was groaning and sighing and gasping, with such an excruciating shiver to all of them, and the fact that Faith felt sick, in a very strange way, it made her happy. it meant that she wasn't the same girl she had been when she was at her worst; she'd changed back to the girl that couldn't stand to see the blonde hurting, that once again she had connected with the woman she'd wished she could go back to being for years -- the girl that Buffy was friends with, that the blonde had secretly respected and care for.
Faith pulled the towel down the older girls arms with care, making sure to go slow and that there was an ample amount of cool gel on the wash-cloth as it went. as she moved to do the other arm, however, an odd sound caught her ears. The back under her touches had been heaving up and down; she'd assumed in pain; but she suddenly knew better. It seemed that Buffy had been holding in sobs, trying to keep them quiet, but as she caught sight of a tear running out of those sea-green eyes down the side of the girl's nose, she realized that her breath was heaving from the effort of trying not to cry.
"B?" Faith asked wearily, pausing her movements with the towel at the center of the girls back. leaning over to try and look into the older woman's eyes, she saw her try and hide her face in the pillows. "B, you okay?"
"Yeah, i'm fine." It came out muffled and scratchy, but if Faith didn't already know she'd been crying she might even have bought it. "Just kinda hurts..." she trailed off, and Faith noticed her turn her head a bit as though trying to hide that she was wiping her eyes.
"B, I know it hurts, but the Aloe will make your skin heal faster. if you just lotion it, it could make it worse; the oils are bad for it." she offered, patting the girls head lightly. Faith heard a near silent sniffle, and was glad Buffy couldn't see her; the sound of it made her break out in a happy grin. what? it was cute! .
"Gods... Faith it feels like your ripping sections of my skin off -- its just painful!" she grunted. Faith picked the towel up off the girl's back and sighed.
"Well what do you want me to do? It's going to make you feel better, and you need it. I'm trying to make it cold so it won't hurt so bad... what else can i do?"
"Please," Buffy grunted in pain as she tried to lean up a little, "Can you at least get rid of the towel? God, all the little fibers in it feel like your rubbing little shards of broken glass into my skin..." Faith blinked. Not only was that a slightly disturbing image brought to mind, but...
"Are you sure?" the blonde nodded, "I figured my hands would feel worse. They're a lot hotter than the wash-cloth, babe, you sure you rather I just use my hands?" Yes! Yes! Please say yes! Buffy gave up on trying to sit up and allowed herself to fall back down with a slight flump and a short grunt of pain. "I'll take that as a yes." she smiled to herself, but it wasn't a whole smile -- she was enjoying this way too much.
Sure, she admitted she didn't like it when Buffy was in pain, but she wasn't ready to admit that she liked taking care of the blonde, not to mention running her hands all over her body. But then again, she rationalized to herself, you're have to be an idiot and a moron not to enjoy the feeling of Buffy in your hands.
Author's Note: I ain't too good with this Pre-/Smut stuff; that's a huge part of why I signed up for this Fest; to try my hand at it in hopes of learning something. If it worked, or if you have any helpful pointers, let me know what you think. Please review. Vixie