A/N: So yeah, wrote up through chapter 10 last night (go me!) so I figured I should start posting them more often now. Ha. Also, the story rating is now changed to M. Uh, hm. Yeah, about about my OC? She's not an OC. I suck at making originals, so this is kind of a crossover. So if you guess the fandom, go you! Haha. Thanks to everyone that's been reviewing/favoriting/alerting thus far! Its been so long since I've written for this fandom, so I'm glad I'm doing an okay job :)

CHAPTER FIVE

Taking care of that other H shouldn't have been this fuckin' difficult.

She was in her room. Buffy had gone to hers, the lights were out, her clothes were off, and she was trying to take care of business. The heat was dominating her abdomen, the flashes of the slay and the bar were filling her mind and fuck, she just needed to get off. Her fingers slipped over herself almost tauntingly slow, making her gasp into the darkness of the room and arc her hips into her hand.

She started imagining all the little scenarios that could have happened that night, if only something like them could ever happen. The slay done, the heat and the passion being fueled between the two of them so much that they could feel it crawling all over them. Eyes locked and bodies intertwined and somehow it suddenly jumped to Buffy being bent over stark fuckin' nude over a gravestone with Faith's fingers buried in her tight little pussy.

It wasn't like this was anything new. No, she's fucked herself plenty of times thinking about Buffy. Even when she hated her, she wanted to fuck her just to destroy her, own her in a way. It's always been about Buffy whether it was about love or hate. Her whole fucking universe revolved around that woman, and frankly?

…It was a bit pathetic.

Faith lets out a frustrated sigh and stops herself halfway through; her breathing labored and her chest heaving from anger. She turns her face to look at the wall; the wall that separates her and Buffy's room and she locks her jaw. This was so fucking pathetic.

Was this all she was going to be? All she was gonna do? Just waste her life away pining over some woman who can barely even stand to be in the same room with her?

Alright, well, apparently she can stand it now. They had their little truce and fuckin'… whatever. But that still doesn't change the fact that Buffy would have to be clinically psychotic to ever want Faith the way she so desperately wants her too. Needs her too. She's all she wants and all that she's never going to get and instead of trying to move on she just continues to sink herself just a little deeper. She always pushes her fuckin' fingers in just a bit deeper and pants out her name before she releases, letting the sadness wash over her as much as the damn orgasm does.

Faith was never one to be emotional; at least not in front of people. She puts on a hard face and makes any kind of weakness turn to anger instead because she refuses to ever let anyone know how fuckin' broken she really is. But that doesn't mean that when she's alone that she doesn't cry. Cause she does. All the damn time.

She hates it, hates all of it. And as she feels the tears start to well up in her eyes she sits up quickly, maybe trying to jolt herself out of it. Snap some damn sense into herself. She takes a breath, trying to just not think, before she rises from the bed and grabs her clothes. Fuck all of this.

It just has to stop.

Her clothes are on in a rush and she's out the door in all the same. She just needs to get away. Hell, find someone to take her away. Not in that stupid knight in shining armor crap way, but just take her out of her head. Hell, take Buffy out of her head. Fuck her to make her forget. It always works, just the problem is that once their gone and out the door it all comes back again. Every single miserable part of it.

Faith hates feeling sorry for herself, it makes her seem like a spoiled brat who's crying cause they can't get the shiny toy they want. But Buffy was more than just a toy. She was more than just some prize to be owned. She was… fuck. Everything. All of it. With a nice little fuckin' bow on top.

Picking up was easy. It always is. She knows she was born lucky; to look the way she does. If sex came in human form she'd be pretty damn close to how it looks. The hair, the lips, the breasts, the dangerous air and cocky attitude and fuck, yeah, it's just easy. Almost too damn easy.

She wasn't picky tonight, she doesn't think she could handle being that way cause the longer it takes for her to find someone the longer she keeps thinking about Buffy and how she wishes she was trying to pick up her. The first person who showed an interest was the one who ended up in her bed; Faith on top in some sweaty, raw, sexual haze. She lets her body take over and says adios to the thinking cause thinking never leads to anywhere good.

But it's almost like animals. When you let your body take over it all becomes instinctual it turns into something that dances with the line between human and primal. Rough, hard, bordering on almost abusive with the biting and the scratching and just, hell, owning. Owning another human being just because you can, if only for a moment. It's loud and it's passionate and it's so fucking sexy that yeah, for a second she forgets about Buffy. And that was the point, wasn't it?

Hours. Hours and fuckin' hours of nothing but sex. It was strange that she found someone with enough stamina to rival her own, but she ate it up because it tasted so fuckin' good. But eventually the stamina wore out with both of them, and as she collapsed on the bed, eyes closed and breathing labored, her guest sat up a little, a little smirk lingering.

"That was fun," the girl states, in this almost airy way as she made light of something that was fuckin'… Faith wouldn't say incredible, that might be giving it too much credit, but it was pretty damn close to amazing, regardless.

Faith doesn't say anything; she just rolls over and stares at the ceiling, wiping the hair out of her face. Her face is flushed and she can still feel the mist of sweat on her body. She takes a deep breath. Man. She needed that.

The girl peers down at her, almost inquisitively. She's a bit out of breath herself, but it's not as pronounced. Almost as if she's learned to quiet herself on command. "Did you get what you needed?" she asks her, like she knows more than what she's letting on. Faith turns her head to look at her.

"Yeah. Thanks for the orgasms," she says, though maybe it's hinted with a bit of sarcasm because somehow, what she just said, turned on her defense mechanism. This was… weird. There was something off about this girl.

"You're welcome," she replies with a little smile; that light, airy tone back again. Maybe she was a bit crazy. Go figure for Faith to pick the most fucked up broad in the whole damn bar. What was her name again? She doesn't remember her even saying…

"I don't think I got your name," Faith says, sitting up as she finds her clothes. She picks up the girls shirt first though and throws it at her. She catches it easily.

"That's because I never told you," she replies, like it should have been obvious, as she slides the shirt over her head. Her blonde hair spills down around her shoulders and she looks at her.

Though, on a completely unrelated note: go figure she'd be fucking a blonde too. What is it, some kind of weakness she has? Fuckin' stupid.

But it was weird, the girl not saying her name, even when she asked. She half expected her to get pissed off at her, like most women. Faith could never remember names; they just weren't her strong suit. "You gonna tell me?" Faith asks, the defense kicking in again. Something wasn't right.

"No," she replies as she pulls on her jeans. "But I don't think I want to know yours either."

"What is this? Some kind of kinky fetish you have? Fuckin' strangers and never wanting to know who they are?" She could be down with that, honestly. But it still didn't seem like that was it either.

"No. I just don't trust you," the girl tells her simply. Then she cocks her head to the side in thought a bit. "And I don't think I care what your name is."

"And you're making me trust you even less than I already do, which usually means that you're about to fuck me over and we're gonna have to throw down," Faith says as she grabs her clothes and starts putting them back on, keeping one eye on her the whole time.

"You don't have anything I want," the girl says flatly, like that made some kind of fucking sense. But then Faith thinks about it a bit. What was she, some kind of thief? It was the only thing that even made it into the realm of slightly logical with all this… fuck. Craziness. No name, no trust, no whatever. But hey, she does have nice things. Fucking hella nice things after being able to go spree with Angel's plastic. She might be offended that this girl, if she is a thief, doesn't even find anything of hers worth stealing.

Bitch.

But then the girl doesn't go for the door, she goes for the window. Faith stares at her like she's got five fuckin' heads and one of them is starting to yodel. "What the fuck are you doing?"

"Leaving."

"Out the window? Are you fucking insane?"

The girl looks at her, blinking a few times with this blank eerie sort of stare. "It's only three stories up," she says, completely ignoring the insane comment and saying it in a way that made Faith feel… weird. This girl really was a bit off.

"There's no fire escape."

"And that's what makes it fun," she says with a little smile… and then she's just fucking gone. Faith blinks and stands up, making her way over to the window just in time to see her scaling down the drainpipe and her feet hitting the ground before she takes off into the darkness.

Man, she needs to start fucking normal people.

The next morning she woke up to the sight of Buffy… standing over her. Faith jerks up straight in bed out of automatic reaction, clutching the covers to her chest. "Fuck, shit, god damnit B, what the hell are you doing??" Faith mumbles in her sleepy and startled haze. She rubs the sleep out of her eyes so she can see clearly. Damn, way to freak a bitch out. Just kinda creepy when you wake up and someone's standing over you. It's like in the horror movies before some hot bitch gets her heart cut out of her chest and shown to her.

That better not be on Buffy's agenda this morning.

"Nice mouth," Buffy deadpans, a hint of annoyance seeping into her voice. She walks away from the bed and over to the window to yank open the curtains. Light floods into the room and Faith makes some kind of whiny, aggravated noise before throwing the covers back over her head.

What the fuck. She's still freaking tired.

"Get up, it's almost noon and we have to train some of the newbies," Buffy tells her flatly. Faith doesn't have to be looking at her to know that she has her hands on her hips. Faith has no idea what's up with the attitude this morning, but she's really not digging it. Didn't they call truce? Does she have to wave a white flag now? God damn.

"I'm tired," Faith complains, just cause it's early and she's grumpy. She makes a face and wipes the fallen strands of brunette hair off her face. Damnit, she wants to go back to bed. She lies back down, flopping back and staring up the ceiling.

"Yeah, well, me too," Buffy says, irritated. "You kept me up last night. Really considerate, by the way."

Faith blinks as this heavy weight makes its way down her throat and lays camp in her abdomen. She turns her head to look at Buffy, who had her arms crossed over her chest as she looks down at her disapprovingly. "You heard me?" Faith asks, though clearly that much was obvious.

"What I heard was more like animals during mating season," Buffy says flatly, her annoyance with the situation written all over her face. Faith sits up though, still making sure to keep the covers over her as she does so since she hasn't bothered to put clothes back on last night. "This is not a whore house, Faith," Buffy continues in her little high-and-mighty disapproving voice that just works at Faith's last nerve. Her own grumpiness wasn't helping the situation much either and it makes her snap back,

"Whatever, you can stand there and act like you're better than me because you like to pretend you don't feel it like I do, but I'm willing to bet you got yourself off to the sounds of my little mating session last night, Twinkie."

She should have expected what was coming next, and part of her damn well knows she deserved it since that was kind of over the line, but when Buffy's fist connected with her jaw it still knocked her back, disoriented her for a moment, until her instincts took over and the next thing she knew she had Buffy pinned against the far wall, forearm over her throat and her breathing ragged from rage.

Shit.

But Buffy doesn't make a move, she just stands there, letting Faith hold her since she still couldn't bring herself to press down and apply pressure enough to threaten her. Their eyes connect and Buffy taunts her, "Press down. I dare you." It almost makes Faith think that she just let her make that move just to see what would come after it.

"Fuck you."

It's said softly, almost a hissing sound through her teeth as they continue to stare at each other, neither moving but both calculating reactive moves if the other one dares to begin their dance. Faith notices Buffy's breathing change, just slightly. Not as defensive anymore but more… anticipation.

It wasn't like Faith studied people, or ever cared to. But if there was one thing she did take in from her slayer training it was how to spot signs of weakness and changes in strategy. Not that Faith knew how to make any of them turn in her favor when she's up against Buffy though. Everything with her is always just… running on emotions. Pure feeling.

"You used to not hesitate," Buffy says, but its softer. There's still a hint of a challenge behind her words but it was mostly masked by her own curiosity.

"You used to not wait for me to make a move," Faith counters in a voice equally as soft. Buffy just stares hard into her eyes for a moment, until Faith notices them become a bit softer as she lets them drop slowly, looking over her darker counterpart.

"You need to get dressed," Buffy states flatly, but it's also hinted in this odd tone that Faith can't place. But that snaps her out of it and she steps away from Buffy, backing up a few steps. She still doesn't move for her clothes though; she just looks at her.

"Truce over?" Faith asks, trying to not make the disappointment and sadness seep out through her words. She tries to make it comes out strong, but she doesn't think she succeeded very well.

Buffy blinks, tearing her eyes away from Faith's nude body to look up at her face. "No," she says simply. She grabs Faith's tank top off of the bedside table and throws it at her, and the brunette catches it easily. "But I still don't think I know how to start my day unless I get to clock you in the jaw."

That makes Faith crack a smirk as she slides her shirt over her head. "You still got a mean right hook." That makes Buffy smirk as well before she turns towards the door. But then she stops as her hand touches the doorknob, and Faith can see her take a breath. She turns back around and Faith watches her out of her peripheral vision, surprised to notice that Buffy was very much looking at her as she pulls on her panties.

"Keep looking at me like that and we're never gonna leave this room," Faith says, that little hint of cocky arrogance in her voice that usually makes her want to slap herself silly after she uses it. Man, she needs to really start using that brain to mouth filter, she's gonna get herself into trouble.

"What? I'm not—! Faith!" Buffy exclaims, all flustered and irritated as she narrows her eyes and stomps her foot a little to make her point. "That wasn't what I was—! Just get dressed!" she snaps and then in a flash she's out the door, it slamming behind her.

Whoops.

Yeah, she really needs to start controlling that better. But Buffy was looking, she didn't imagine that. And maybe it was just cause she's one big giant prude and nudity either offends or intrigues her, but still. She was looking. At Faith. All… naked. At all her naked little parts.

And even though she just pissed Buffy off by stating that fact out loud, she can't help the smile that's on her face. On some level, hell, it doesn't matter which one, but on some level Buffy couldn't take her eyes off of her.

And she'll take that… no matter what the reasons were.

TBC…

A/N #2: Ya'll need to tell me when my dumb ass forget to take out the italics code that I use for posting on LJ lol. So if you ever see "i" and "/i" before words, let me know. this site takes out the brackets, and sometimes I forget to change it before I post it in here. It's fixed now.