Present Day
Sunlight streamed in through the open window. Buffy sat in an armchair, listlessly staring into space. Recently she'd been wondering about her mother. Giles assured her Joyce lived in Florida, recommending on the same vein not to make contact. Buffy agreed, but felt homesick more than ever. She didn't belong in this world. Not as a living ghost for the people who knew her to be dead, where she struggled to cope in the only way she could, when everyone else had moved on with their lives. Faith, of all people, fronted the fight between good and evil.
No one needed her.
Buffy's eyes roved around the spacious living room, and a stray beam of sunlight dazzled her from a vase on a table. Withered forget-me-nots sprawled out in it. Squirming around a little, Buffy rested her chin against her palm. Although revisiting the vampire lair in broad daylight a few days earlier, they found nothing of importance. The lair was abandoned. Only dust and blood remained of their experiences down under.
Willow walked into the room, munching on a stick of celery. She beamed at Buffy and plonked herself down on the adjacent armchair, gesturing with her index finger to the ceiling.
"Faith's stolen my girlfriend. I resent it."
"Is that so?" Buffy snapped to attention, focusing on the carbon-copy of her best friend. "I thought the two of you were permanently attached to the hip. It's cute," she added, seeing Willow's expression fall.
"You think so?" Willow said, brightening.
"Of course," Buffy assured her. "Although sometimes it gets kinda embarrassing. Remember when we went shopping the other day? We were trying on shoes and Tara wanted to try on a dress and she asked you to come into the dressing room to help do up the zip? Well, you guys took a really long time to do it. Criminally long."
"We uh, did, h-huh?" Willow suddenly found the floor very interesting.
"A really long time…" Buffy leant forward, grinning mischievously. "I sat there and put on shoes, wondering when you two were going to come out, or whether, say, some demon had eaten you or something. So. Why did it take ten minutes to do up the zip again? I'm all ears. Two of them."
"You never said anything," Willow accused, still fixated on the floor. "You were all, 'look, guys! Don't I look killer in these!' And parading about in those awful heels. You never said anything!"
"Well now, I couldn't shame you two in front of the customers, could I? Even I was a little uncomfortable, thinking about it. But between you and me, the cashier was totally onto it." Buffy tapped her nose conspiratorially.
Willow dipped her head down until her hair completely covered her face. "Oh, Goddess." She glanced up, fanned at her cheeks, and changed the subject: "A-anyway, what brings you here so early, Buff? You're usually a lot later."
Buffy held up her hands. "I didn't have much else going on today. Giles went off somewhere. He left me a note on the fridge, and he really couldn't have vagued it up more."
"Oh! I know about that. Buff. Giles and Voirrey went to LA to see Angel and his goonies to, I think, check up about the stuff you guys discovered." Willow rattled off the information with aplomb. "They were a little hazy on the details, but Angel's lot stumbled upon some stuff as well, and they wanted to share."
"How about that, huh?" Buffy said, heart lurching slightly. Angel. Angel still functioned in this world. How strange to hear his name. She'd be lying to herself if she never thought about him, but the version of him in this world never loomed large in her consciousness. Something felt forbidden - wrong - about it He was as off the grid as her mother. "That explains it, then."
"Lets hope they come up with some good leads." Willow patted Buffy's wrist and took the celery stick out of her mouth, chewing on the remaining pulp. "I'm not too keen to revisit those tunnels."
Buffy tapped her knee. "Wasn't it really odd that they were totally empty? I mean, when Faith," Buffy hesitated briefly, before plunging on, "When Faith and I went down them, they were everywhere. The vamps were practically crawling out of the walls, and the freaky cow guy controlled them."
"It's odd," Willow agreed. "Maybe they cleared out after their hidey hole was compromised. We should find out what they're up to, but I think Faith might hurt us if we get into the action before she recovers, though. So maybe we're lucky we didn't see any vamps." Willow perked a grin.
Buffy copied the expression. "Have you seen Faith yet?"
"Yes - before Tara went," Willow replied, mournful. She put her stripy-covered feet up on the settee. "At least we've not been sent on any errands this time."
"Huh? Errands?"
Willow gave a long-suffering sigh. "Whenever Tara and I come here, Faith makes us fetch her junk food, films, comics, and other random stuff in this wheedling tone. But she does it with such a sweet little smile and with droopy big eyes…"
Buffy's eyebrow shot up in amusement. "Faith? Sweet? Are we on the same page here? Are we even reading the same book?"
"I know, right? But she does it."
Buffy's stomach did a few flips in guilt as Willow reached out to clasp her hands appreciatively. "I know you must get tired of me saying this, but thank you for saving her."
Buffy only nodded mutely in response.
They sat in amiable silence for a few moments. Buffy examined the redhead, wrestling with a profound mess of emotions.
Willow drew Buffy out of her mindscape with more snippets of conversation. They flitted from topic to topic as Tara exercised her healing gifts on Faith upstairs.
"It's tricky magic,' Willow admitted, finishing off her celery before explaining more; "Tara can manage it better than me. It's very subtle stuff, very advanced. She says she'll teach me all these cool spells. I can hardly wait!" Willow kicked out her legs in uncontrollable excitement. "Wouldn't that be awesome? Healing people without a doctorate, or years and years and years in University."
Buffy automatically found herself cheering up upon hearing Willow-Babble. Willow really was adorable, whatever version she happened to be. The redhead put very little demand on Buffy and seemed to take it in her stride to re-befriend, spending many hours in the past three weeks just talking and enjoying her company, helping to ease Buffy into a strange alternative of her own world. Tara offered the same thing, although she appeared more quietly confident than Buffy ever recalled. Maybe this version of Willow's girlfriend was. Xander and Anya didn't seem to be involved much with the gang affairs anymore, so Buffy didn't know what to make of them. According to Willow, Xander became a little more distant and withdrawn after Buffy's death.
It kind of made sense. He'd been deeply infatuated with her, back then. He tried once to ask her out. He didn't enjoy the rejection.
"Willow? Sweetie?" Tara called, her feet creaking on the stairs as she searched for her girlfriend.
"I'm in the lounge!" Willow waved as Tara emerged, looking tired but pleased.
"The session went well," Tara said. "Her wound's sealed up now, and the internal bruising is gone. But I'm going to need to rest for a couple days to recover."
"You're working hard, Tare-baby." Willow reached out to her girlfriend, and Buffy averted her eyes from the tender moment.
"Buffy said we were noticeable in the dressing room the other day," Willow mumbled into Tara's neck. In response, Tara shook with suppressed laughter. She kissed Willow's forehead and gave Buffy a wink.
"Faith wants to see you, now."
"She does, huh?" Buffy swallowed.
"I'm glad you both are getting along better," Willow piped up. "You both seemed a little frigid. Frosty. Icy. Something not involving… heat." Willow buried herself deeper in Tara's neck.
"Frigid is about right," Buffy agreed, placating the redhead, "Offence is not taken."
Tara poked Willow a few times until the redhead creased her brow up in a mock frown. "Stop doing that."
"No," Tara said, face twisting into an expression of mischief.
Buffy laughed, giving them both a fond look before working her way up the stairs.
Opening the door, Buffy felt her innards curl up into an snarly knot. Faith flipped through a comic book, not appearing to acknowledge Buffy's presence. Buffy moved into the room, and sat on the chair propped by the brunette's bed. A glass of water lay on the dressing table. The almost closed curtains allowed thin slivers of day to dapple the room.
Silently, Buffy stretched out her fingers until they rested on Faith's arm.
"What Tara said is true," Buffy murmured. "You've healed so fast."
Faith raised an eyebrow at the physical contact but made no comment on it. "Not the first time Tara's had to patch me up. Practise makes perfect."
Buffy made a non-committal sound in response and sat there for a little while, indulging in the peculiar sensation of the connection that came with skin-to-skin contact. She didn't know what to make of the sensation. All she knew was that in a way, it helped in dealing with Faith.
"Tara reckons I'll be out and about tomorrow." Faith turned the page of her comic book. The material rustled and scratched. "You been practising?"
"Yeah. Two hours, today."
"Good. Sooner you control yourself, the better. I'll be well enough to help out later."
Buffy felt doubtful. "You're alright with that? I mean… I did kind of do stuff to you. And I don't really wanna risk something like that again." Buffy peered at the pictures the brunette stared so intently at, recognising the iconic figure of Batman.
"You need help. Think I'm best qualified to give it. You ever have the Cruciamentum?" Faith flipped another page.
Buffy frowned at the odd question. "Uh… Yes - they stripped me of my powers and made me kill a vampire." The Cruciamentum was the main reason she and Giles split from the Watcher's Council. Why would Faith bother asking about it?
Faith glanced sideways sharply. "Huh? That don't sound right. You sure you thinking of the same thing?"
"I'm certain. Every Slayer for years went through it when they reached eighteen. Some sort of survival test to prove they were a good Slayer. Most of them died. It was a stupid thing to do. Cruel."
Faith sat quietly in brief thought. "Don't like the sound of your Council dudes, much."
"What's the Cruciamentum like for you lot, then?" Buffy asked, assuming the process worked differently in this dimension.
"Uh, Cruce for us lot is getting jabbed. Helps on controlling the power better. Gives us more control."
"That sounds really weird. Do they suppress your power or something, then?"
"I guess?" Faith furrowed her brow, as if she had not considered the possibility before. "It helps a lot. Before, I could barely stop myself going batshit in a fight. After, it got much easier to handle. Still needed to meditate and stuff, but it was of the good…?" She trailed off, obviously perplexed.
Buffy's mind began whirring like a machine, connecting dots. Before being locked in the building with the vampire, Buffy got an injection which suppressed her powers. Here, apparently the injection, or a injection, still happened. But this was to help control the chaotic energy that threatened a Slayer on a daily basis. So it was good. Necessary. Faith could fight, and kill demons with ease, without having to worry about losing sanity.
But then again, why was Faith so much weaker than Buffy?
Faith processed through the same dilemma. "You think they really mighta suppressed my powers? For real?"
"I don't know," Buffy said, unwilling to speculate. This was far beyond her comfort zone to discuss. She didn't know where to even start. Faith looked alarmed and concerned.
"It can't be. We're different body types. Maybe being a Slayer depends on that or something."
"Yeah. That may be it," Buffy answered slowly. That was Voirrey's explanation. Voirrey Saunders. Member of the Council.
Buffy understood Faith's dilemma. The brunette must have honestly never thought that her powers were somehow dampened, made weaker. And why not?
It wasn't like she ever had another Slayer to compare to.
"Shit," Faith hissed, gripping the comic book tightly until it creased. "…I never even…"
"Well, we don't know for sure," Buffy said, nervous at the fluctuating emotions flaring up in the brunette. "We don't know - I don't anything about this stuff. Just ignore me, yeah?"
The dark Slayer breathed deeply a few times, staring down at Buffy's touching hand. It took her a while to respond. "Maybe. But you're much stronger than me. So can't help but think…"
"Um… If it didn't bother you before, uh, why bother you now? I mean, you're Slaying fine as far as I can tell and stuff." Buffy blinked rapidly as she muddled through the statement. Was she actually trying to comfort Faith?
Faith nodded. "Right." She stared at the wall.
Taking a risk, Buffy crept her hand onto Faith's and gave it a squeeze, hoping Faith would not perceive the gesture as condescending. It felt strange, actually. Being friendly to the brunette. Being caring.
But it also felt right. And appropriate, considering Buffy was the devil's advocate for tricky questions.
Just as Buffy decided upon changing the subject, Faith let go of the comic book, tilting her head. "Well, lookit you. Holding hands with me."
Buffy flushed. "Don't make me withdraw the friendly."
The brunette smirked. "Not teasing ya, B. Just saying. Pretty sure a couple of weeks back you'd rather make fists at me than hold me. You did succeed on getting me in bed, though."
Trust Faith to make even a simple statement sound like an innuendo, Buffy thought sourly. "Progress. Baby steps. Plus you were kinda nice to me after the whole lair thing."
"Only 'cause I felt like a little shit for making you cry."
"Hello? Homicidal Slayer here. You had a right to be pissed off."
"Homicidal and stronger Slayer. I know," She sighed at Buffy's exclamation, "But you got the cat outta the bag. Just can't let the idea go."
"For the moment, then?"
Faith wrinkled her nose. "Guess so." She fell silent. Then she channelled a hard stare, until Buffy was forced to look away.
"What's with the eye daggers?" Buffy said, attention on the window.
"Cause I don't know what to make of you, Buffy Anne Summers."
Buffy twitched, uncomfortable. She got nervous when people used her full name. Her mother did the same thing whenever she prepared for a scolding. She resisted the impulse to reflect the statement back at Faith. "About a hundred and fifty so centimetres, blonde, good looking?"
"Snark and ass beating aside, still angry 'bout that by the way; gotta ask: what the hell is ticking in your skull?"
"Come again?"
Faith licked her lips, rearranging the thoughts in her head. "What do you see when you see me?"
Ah. So it was going to be like that.
Did you expect anything else?
Shut up.
"I…" Buffy began, then stopped.
Faith sneering as Buffy drooped against her chains, the brunette's white teeth flashing in the grungy, dilapidated crypt.
She shook her head as if it would rid her of the memory. Unfortunately, it only encouraged more to crash unbidden.
Face contorted in rage as Faith pounded her in, wearing Buffy's own body from the unexpected switch. The self-loathing in her borrowed eyes.
"I see pain," Buffy replied. "A reminder of it."
Vague as the explanation was, Faith accepted it with a nod, steering clear of any more personal questions. This surprised Buffy. Surely the brunette was brimming with curiosity. If some doppelganger of herself existed, Buffy would want to know the little differences about them, too. Hell, she'd be drilling them out.
What really floored Buffy though, was the next sentence to escape the brunette's lips.
"I'm sorry for what she did to you."
It came out so unexpected, that Buffy lost track of whatever thoughts floating in her head. Stunned and flustered, she focused on the white duvet in front, and all the lumps and uneven wrinkles rippling across its surface. Faith's legs created an even bridge underneath.
She nearly jumped when Faith subtly began kneading her fingers into Buffy's shoulder, attacking the points of tension corded all the way over it. Their connection tingled. Soupy thoughts floated in Buffy's brain, giving her a welcome distraction from all the bad news and screwed up events happening to her in the space of two-to-three short weeks. Concentrating on the hand touching her, Buffy felt even more bewildered.
Faith. Comforting her. Faith with the rage and the hurt and the apology. Apologising for the other Faith, when Buffy distinctly recalled shutting the other one down when she attempted the same. Surreal situation, much.
Buffy didn't mind this apology, however. Why didn't she mind? She thought about it for a bit, wondering the whys to the best of her ability. She never exactly had any warm, fuzzy feelings for the brunette. But something always lingered in their meetings, bad and good. Something unclear.
Faith running out the church, after their bodies had switched back. Buffy watching her run. No rage. No hate. Just regret.
Regret.
It was as though light flared up in her brain.
"You know what?" Buffy blurted. Faith's hand stilled in its ministrations.
"What?"
"I like this. It feels like I'm getting along with you." Buffy absently ran her hand along the bumps on the duvet cover, smoothing them out. "That never really… happened."
Faith didn't respond for a moment. Then her hand started working again. "Go on."
"Maybe… I didn't do enough." Buffy hesitated. Faith's hand seemed to silently encourage her. And in a twisted kind of way, she was the exact person Buffy needed to talk to. Licking her dry lips, Buffy continued. "She was always a little distant, from us. Or maybe we distanced her. There were times when I really liked being with her. I sometimes wonder what might have happened if we - I - tried harder. Maybe I gave up too easy. But she made it so easy to hate. God. I hated her."
Faith tapped Buffy and helped her adjust her position until she faced Faith. The brunette's gaunt face stared at her, fathomless. Faith's dark hair, scraped back, made her appear unassuming and vulnerable. Her eyes however glinted like onyx.
"What do you want to know?"
Buffy's gaze wandered over the brunette's full lips, over the cleft, over her pale face. "I'm, I - I'm not sure."
Faith pursed her mouth. A tic pulsed under her jaw. "Think I got a pretty good idea."
Buffy tilted her head, curious at the peculiar change in Faith's tone.
Faith wrestled with something. Her mouth closed and opened a few times, barely parting her lips, before she drove on. "Picture this. Nothing in your life is under control. Your mom's a drunk. Dad's never there. You're forced to the streets cause your mom never has the time to look after you. People use you. Guys fuck you and leave you, no one gives a shit about you. So you become a little fucked up in return. Can't trust anyone because they'll always fuck you and leave you. Now you're using people. Soon you're convincing yourself that maybe people treat you like this, cause you deserve it. You're a rotten, skanky bitch, and you deserve it."
Buffy's jaw dropped.
"That's pretty much the Faith you got coming over to your 'Dale. Two years ago, right?"
Buffy nodded mutely.
"Recipe for disaster." Faith raised her head to study the ceiling. "More or less what you wanted to find out?"
Buffy couldn't speak. Or even squeak.
"Oh, forgot something. There's all that, and then there's a dead Watcher to boot. You're dealing with a total psychopath."
The catch in Faith's voice sent Buffy onto full alert. "Faith?"
"What?" the brunette replied, curt.
Buffy studied her for a few seconds, before levering herself upright, both her arms on either side of Faith's body. The brunette's gaze wandered everywhere but towards Buffy's face. "Don't get frigid on me."
Faith made a half-derisive chuckle. "Why?".
"You're not a psychopath after all."
"And that came from, where?"
"Somewhere. But anyway, thanks for telling me all this stuff. I mean it, Faith. I think I needed to hear it.'
Faith squinted, one eyebrow twitching in bafflement, the other contorting back into a familiar veil of anger. It almost appeared comical, seeing Faith's emotions work at double-time on her all-too expressive face.
Before Faith could respond, Buffy interrupted, with tears studding her eyes. "Thank you," she whispered, and lowered herself down, resting against Faith's body, hugging her on the outside of the duvet.
Faith didn't react for a few seconds, no doubt wondering what the hell was going on. It didn't take long before she reluctantly curled her own arms on top of Buffy.
"You're welcome," she eventually muttered.
"Well, this is fascinating," Voirrey said. She sat on one of a collection of chairs spread in the basement. Buffy and Faith poised in front of her, clad in exercise joggers and tank tops. Both panted heavily, having just committed themselves to a full workout. Willow and Tara lingered by the doorway, interested to see the sparring between the two Slayers. Xander and Anya sat slightly askew to Voirrey, apparently placing bets.
Giles in the meanwhile stayed away from the action, researching up a plethora of information as a result of the trip to Angel Investigations. He commandeered the study desk upstairs.
Faith cracked her knuckles, glad to be back on her feet after spending a total of nearly five days occupying a bed, with occasional escorting to the bathroom. She nodded agreement at Voirrey. "Ain't it." She feinted a couple of jabs to the air, confident in her skill.
"No more! I can't take it." Buffy placed a hand against her head, acting as if about to faint.
"Awh. Don't tell me you're all worn out already, B? I got mad skills. Stamina. We've only done three rounds."
"Three rounds with you is more than enough. I'm sore all over."
"Excuse me," Xander interrupted, his eyes bugging out. "But am I the only one who caught the really obvious innuendo in that exchange?"
"No, sweetie," Tara assured him. "We all did."
Anya frowned, before brightening. "Oh! I get it. She's talking like they're having sex. Funny."
Xander sighed. "Thank you, Anya."
"Best out of six?" Buffy said, pouting. Faith let out a breathy laugh, swiping away sweat from her chin.
No way, B. You might beat me this time."
"That is kind of the point, F." Buffy circled around Faith, her hands reflexively curled.
"Plan to keep my winning streak. Gotta keep face in front of my people, y'know?" Faith gave Buffy a light fist bump.
"No, spar again!" Xander protested. "I plan to make a profit out of this."
"I think that's quite enough now, ladies. And gentlemen." Voirrey inclined her head to Xander. "Faith's only been back onto her routine twice since being confined for five days. She certainly doesn't need to exert herself."
Xander let out a groan at the statement. Willow instantly ran up to him, holding her hand out in the universal gesture of Give Me Money.
"Gonna unwind with some stretches. That okay, V?"
Voirrey smiled affectionately at her charge. "Of course. Don't be too long, though. There'll be cakes upstairs, unless this greedy lot gets to them first."
"Hey!" Xander protested.
"Yes, mom." Faith replied to Voirrey, rolling her eyes.
Voirrey went strangely pink.
Everyone filtered out of the basement one by one as the two tired Slayers stretched their muscles. Buffy started off slow, just testing the waters with a series of slow, elegant movements, building up into something more resembling a choreographed dance after the last spectator exited. By some sort of unanimous decision, both Slayers remained.
As soon as the door clicked shut, Faith launched herself onto the speedball, pummelling it with furious passion.
"Whoa! Whoa. I thought you were just going to wind down, Faith." Buffy did a flip and a cartwheel, before bending down to touch the mat.
"Ah, Momma Bear worries too much. I got energy to burn. Probably enough to power a fair few households."
"Pretty pent up, huh?" Buffy grinned as she assaulted the punch bag, feeling her muscles jar with each hit.
"Oh, you have no idea." Faith grunted, losing the rhythm on the speedball. "Gimme a turn on the punch bag."
"All yours." Buffy moved to the speedball, gathering up a pace on it as Faith took out some of her underlying issues on the bag.
"How's your whole inner struggle coming along then, B?" She delivered a few nasty kicks to the swaying punch bag, each one accompanied by a sound of exertion.
"Pretty well, F. Patrolled last night with Willow. We only did the nearby cemeteries, but I dusted two vamps without… you know."
"Going bat shit homicidal?"
"That would be it, yes."
"It's not like it hits you all the time, anyway." Faith stopped on the punch bag. Only the thuds of Buffy's workout on the speedball filled the basement. "Ya wanna test it for real?"
"What do you mean?"
"Fighting me."
Buffy slowed down on her movements. "I don't see the point. We've already hit each other for three rounds. Three long rounds, in which blows were exchanged."
Faith paced near Buffy and grinned, sending a chill up Buffy's spine. "Bullshit. You and I both know you put on an act for everyone here."
Buffy stopped completely on the punch bag and stepped away. "Of course I didn't," she replied, a little too quick.
"You pussyfooted around me. I coulda beaten you with one arm tied behind my back, B. I don't need kid gloves."
Buffy reached for a canteen of water and gulped it before emitting a snort. "Well, sorry for being careful." She placed the bottle back down on the floor. "In case you don't remember, last time I wasn't careful, you were kind of bleeding and being all unconscious and stuff. I don't exactly want that happening again. Plus, it's like Voirrey says. You're fresh out of bed."
"Shouldn't let that bother you."
"It does." Buffy shook her head in annoyance.
"Yeah?" Faith slid her hands to rest against her hips aggressively.
"I can't risk it again with you, Faith," Buffy stated emphatically. "I can't risk losing that control and hurting you. Anyone. The sooner you guys figure out how to send me home, the better. And maybe we shouldn't patrol together."
Faith stopped then, a strange light in her eyes. "So, what, that's it, then? You're just gonna give up the whole control thing?"
"No! Of course not. But we should play it safe. Really not sure if I can trust myself right now."
Annoyed disagreement flitted across Faith's face. Her left fist kept clenching and unclenching. "Nice try, but you're not ducking out that easy.
She's raring for a fight, the Inner Slayer warned.
Why? Buffy asked, nervous. The Inner Slayer in the past few days had kept relatively quiet, occasionally chipping into her brain with sarcastic comments.
Maybe vengeance? For the punchy kicky.
Vengeance is so old fashioned.
Okay, then. To prove her Slayer superiority?
Whatever the reason is, I won't fight her.
You might not have a choice.
Shaking off the negative answer, Buffy finished off her canteen. "Sorry, Faith. Not now."
She made a few metres towards the stairs before Faith spoke. "If you won't fight me, then I'll fight you."
"Faith," Buffy warned, her voice low, her back still turned. "Everyone's upstairs. Leave it. I've made up my m -"
Buffy staggered forwards from a shove. She instinctively whirled around, glaring at Faith as the brunette hopped from side to side, weight resting on the balls of her feet. Their connection spiked in aggravation.
"Out with it, Summers. Better in here than out there."
"No."
"No? Your loss." Faith shrugged - right before clocking Buffy under the jaw. Buffy's eyes rolled to the back of her skull and she faltered as Faith rained more blows. The brunette grabbed and hurled her onto the mats.
Buffy landed and executed a shoulder roll, becoming upright. She advanced towards Faith, angry, before hesitating. No. She wouldn't let Faith goad her like this.
Unfortunately, Faith took the opportunity to close the distance and land a blow right on Buffy's sternum. Buffy let out a pained choke, gritting her teeth. The blows kept coming, regardless of the lack of resistance.
When it became obvious Buffy really didn't intend to fight back, Faith narrowed her eyes, face distorting into something hard. "Fight back." Buffy's head snapped to the side from a side sweep.
"No." Buffy wondered how long it'd take before she became unconscious. The last blow caused a kind of ringing to echo in her head, and she tasted blood from a cut inside her cheek.
Faith exclaimed harshly. She kicked Buffy in the stomach, causing her to hit the ground. Another kick spread Buffy out flat on the blue mat - and the brunette's weight crashed down, pinning her quite effectively to the floor.
"Fight back," Faith hissed.
Buffy heaved gently, all too aware of the sudden lack of personal space between them. The connection sparked erratically, sending strange tingles through Buffy's body. Her abdomen throbbed from the kick. "I told you, Faith. I really, don't want to hurt you." The words came out with some effort - Faith crushed down on her diaphragm a little too much.
A dangerous, grating chuckle vibrated through Faith. Hovering over Buffy, she licked her lips, almost forcing Buffy to follow the movement. "So you're just gonna let me beat you up? Let me do what I want?" Faith leant forward, until her front pressed rather noticeably against Buffy's. "Nice of you."
Buffy let out a little squeak. "W-what are you doing, Faith?"
Faith leered, lowering her mouth to Buffy's ear. The hot breath made Buffy shudder involuntarily. "What do you think?"
Okay, this was definitely not going the way Buffy expected. "Y-y-y-you're-" she couldn't even say it.
"W-w-w-what?" Faith purred mockingly. The tendons in her arms flexed.
Buffy's breathing increased exponentially. Oh my God, is she going to try and rape me? "Okay, I know I said I wasn't going to fight back, but if you're going to sexually assault me, I'll have to get the p-pepper spray. Get off. Get off!"
Faith's response was to tilt her head and leer, one eyebrow advancing skywards. "Make me."
"Don't be a fucking bitch," Buffy spat, getting seriously angry, as well as alarmed. She instantly tensed her muscles to shove Faith off her body. To hell with it. If this bitch wanted her to fight back, then fight she would. This act was one bridge too far.
Faith clutched onto Buffy tighter as if knowing what she planned, and with a slow, languorous swipe of her tongue, licked around and into the shell of Buffy's ear. She blew into the damp flesh with an impossibly hot breath. Like a flame. Like a furnace. Spikes of electricity rippled through Buffy, straight through her ear and between her legs. It was as though she'd been doused in petrol, and Faith's tongue happened to be the ignition.
No way. Buffy let out a surprised hiss. Faith sucked in her breath and drew back, examining Buffy with some smugness.
"Yunno, I'd say you were almost enjoying this."
Buffy pushed with a surge of power, knocking Faith backwards. "No I'm not! What the hell, Faith? You licked me?" She flipped into a feral crouch, nostrils flared. "What's wrong with you?"
"Intention was to get you mad." Faith stared at her with dilated eyes, biting her bottom lip. "Did it work?"
Buffy lunged forwards, roughly grabbing onto the neck of Faith's shirt. She raised her other fist to punch. Faith blocked it with her palm and rammed Buffy with her elbow, causing her to grunt in pain.
"Guess that answers it," Faith observed. "Who woulda thunk."
"You. Licked. Me! Whisky. Tango. Foxtrot?" Buffy illustrated each word with an attempted hit, each one of which Faith blocked. She tried a few more times before the brunette rolled her over, starting to laugh.
"My God, you're actually pretty bad, aren't you? A five year old could block those punches."
The words affected Buffy deep inside, digging into her sense of pride. A growl vibrated in the back of Buffy's throat. If Faith's plan was still to wind Buffy up into lashing back, it was working. Too well. "You haven't seen anything yet."
Buffy still had a grip on Faith's shirt, so she twisted and yanked it, unbalancing Faith and landing a hit underneath the brunette's chin. Faith slammed her hands down on either side, still grinning, still otherwise unperturbed.
Buffy froze in mid-punch. Come on, Buffy, you're better than this. Don't let her stupid grinning face get to you. Throw her off and get away -
The hesitation was a bad idea.
Faith scraped her teeth against Buffy's neck. The chaotic jolt of energy zinged through again. Buffy squeezed her eyes shut in angry embarrassment and shame, her tenuous grip on her Slayer rapidly failing.
"Stop it, Faith. I'm losing - I can't - I don't want to -"
The brunette immediately halted in her actions, lifting herself up to look at Buffy better. She didn't move or react for a long time. She saw Buffy's fear, and exhaled a few times.
Buffy's fingers began to tear the front of Faith's shirt.
Faith scrutinised Buffy's hand ruining her shirt. "You know, I was planning on letting you off the hook, until you did that."
Buffy gave a menacing snarl, feeling her control slide further. Feeling her mind hang on the edge. The primal essence in her struggled to break out.
"Was even gonna apologise and everything." Faith evidently found Buffy's inner turmoil interesting, even amusing.
Buffy raised her other hand to dig into Faith's top. She didn't feel in control of her actions in the slightest. Somewhere, the rational part of her brain screamed useless admonishments.
Faith's amusement vanished. With a sudden twist, she forced Buffy's hands away, tearing the material further. All it really did was create a jagged v-section down to the dip between her breasts. She followed through the motion by giving Buffy a tremendous bitch-slap.
This switched Buffy's Slayer brain off from lustful to furious. When she bucked Faith off, crouching into a predatory stance, fingers outstretched like claws, Faith nodded triumphantly.
"That's more like it."
Spitting black rage, Buffy launched herself at the brunette.