Black Dove

Parts 1-4

 

COAUTHOR: Evil Willow

SERIES: Black Dove

PAIRING : Faith/Spike

RATING : NC17

SPOILERS : Revelations, after that it’s alternate universe

DISCLAIMER : I do not own these characters. Nor do I own “Black Dove” (Tori Amos), “Cruel” (Tori Amos), “Closer” (Nine Inch Nails).

NOTES & WARNINGS : bloodplay, S&M as well as mentions of child abuse and rape

 

=====================================================================

 

Part One

 

Faith ran into the mansion and saw Angel and Gwendolyn fighting. “Let her go!” Faith ordered Angel. She was holding a long stick with a metal hook, and started swinging it at him.

 

Angel growled in anger and threw Gwendolyn across the room.

 

“I can’t believe how much I’m gonna kill you,” Faith said, grinning.

 

“You’re *not* getting that glove,” Angel replied, facing her down.

 

“You wanna bet?” Faith asked, and moved to stab him. Angel kicked the club out of her hands, however, and stepped back smiling. Faith sighed, and shrugged her shoulders, “Fine. I’ve still got a stake, and those are more fun anyway.” She dropped back into fighting stance, pulling the stake out of her jeans pocket, and added,  “Come on. The sooner I stake you, the better life will be.”

 

Angel, with vampiric speed, rushed Faith and backhanded her, but Faith recovered quickly and responded with a punch to his face. Angel stumbled back as she followed through with another punch.  

 

Angel kicked her feet out from under her, sending her to the ground, wincing as he heard her head hit the concrete floor. Faith played it dazed, *Come on, Pretty Boy, fall for it* she willed, leaving her eyes closed. She sensed him leaning over her, *Perfect!* and grabbed him by the shirt, using her knees to assist in flipping him over her head and onto his back. She then rolled to her knees, and raised her stake over his chest. “Bye-bye,” she said, quickly followed with, “Fuck!” as the stake was kicked out of her hand.

 

Faith looked up to see Buffy standing over her. “That figures,” Faith said, getting to her feet. “You would protect him, wouldn’t you, B.”

 

“Get the hell away from him, Faith,” Buffy said angrily.

 

Faith laughed, and said, “Sorry, B. I happen to like this earth, and don’t particularly want it sucked into hell. Since we know you plus him equals earth-sucked-into-Hell, I have another equation for you. She pointed to Angel, “Vampire.” She then pointed at herself, “plus not-confused Slayer,” she pointed to Angel again, “equals dead vampire. Any questions?”

 

“There’s a lot that you don’t understand,” Buffy replied.

 

“Like you’re stupid for thinking you could be with Angel again and us not find out?” Faith retorted. “No, already got that one.”

 

Gwendolyn began to come to then, and said, “Faith...She doesn’t know. She’s blinded by love.”

 

“I got that one too, but where I’m from we call it lust,” Faith shrugged.

 

“Faith, you’ve got it all wrong,” Buffy said.

 

“Trust me,” Gwendolyn pleaded.

 

Faith looked at Gwendolyn, and then Buffy. She then said, “I’ll take the one who isn’t fucking a vampire for $200, Alex,” and then did a roundhouse kick to Buffy’s face.

 

Buffy fell to her knees, and Faith kicked her twice more in the stomach. Buffy rolled away and managed to get to her feet. When Faith approached, Buffy punched her in the face. Faith stumbled back, and Buffy attempted two roundhouse kicks, both blocked by Faith. Faith attempted to punch Buffy in the face, but Buffy blocked the punch, and followed through with one of her own, first to Faith’s face, and then to her stomach.

 

Faith fell to the floor and then kicked out, tripping Buffy and sending her on her face next to Faith. Faith jumped up and kicked Buffy in the stomach, twice, before Buffy grabbed her foot on the next attempt and sent her back to the ground.

 

Both were gasping for air at this point, as they got back to their feet. They circled each other, contemplating their next moves.  Faith looked over at Angel, he appeared to be content with watching she and Buffy fight. *Figures* Faith thought. *That’s fine; I’ll deal with you later.*

 

Faith wasn’t expecting what Buffy did next. Buffy rushed Faith and grabbed her by the waist, sending the two of them crashing through the French doors and into the atrium. They rolled away from each other and got to their feet again, glaring.

 

“Had enough yet?” Buffy asked.

 

“Hardly, B,” Faith replied. “When Angel’s a pile of dust, then I’ll have had enough.”

 

“You’ll be waiting a long time for that,” Buffy replied. “Like forever.”

 

Faith punched out at Buffy, but was blocked. Buffy followed through with the other hand and punched Faith in the face.

 

Both stopped for a moment as they heard Gwendolyn yell something unintelligible, followed by a crash of thunder, and lightning.

 

“What the fuck?” Faith said, looking over to see what was going on.

 

Buffy ran back into the other room, as she realized Gwendolyn had the glove. Faith followed close after. “What the hell are you doing?!” she demanded of Gwendolyn.

 

Gwendolyn looked over to Faith, grinning cruelly. “Faith! A word of advice: you’re an idiot.”

 

“I second that,” Buffy said, “And I have a word of advice for you,” she added, looking at Gwendolyn, “You’re dead.”

 

“Buffy--” Faith had a pang of guilt as she realized her mistake where Gwendolyn was concerned.

 

“Get out of here! You’ve done enough damage!” Buffy screamed. “As far as I’m concerned, it’s your fault she’s got the glove!”

 

Faith looked at her for a moment in shock, and then both dove to the ground as Gwendolyn directed a lightning bolt at them. Faith looked to Buffy. “Have a nice death,” she said, and ran out of the Mansion.

 

**********

Faith’s Apartment

 

“Fuck!” Faith screamed and threw a cheap vase watching it shatter as it hit the wall. “That’s just fucking great, “Fucking BUFFY, protecting her demon lover, and lying to everybody. But no, I end up the bad guy, because the Council sent me a psychopath for a WATCHER!!!!” 

 

She turned her head at the timid knock on the door. “WHAT!” she yelled.

 

“Yeah, that’s real helpful,” Buffy said sarcastically. “Destroy the furniture, probably get kicked out of your apartment and then what? Sleep in the street? By the way, thanks for leaving me to clean up the mess you made back there.”

 

“You told me to leave, I obeyed. Because everyone listens to Buffy, right? Well, now it’s my turn to tell _you_ to leave. Seeing your face makes me ill.”

 

“Fine, you hate me, that just figures.” Buffy said. “I was your one friend in this town, Faith. I gave you every possible chance, but you turned on me the minute you found out that Angel was back. Not to mention you falling for Gwendolyn’s act. You trusted the wrong person.”

 

“Well, Gee, B, if you’re talking about you, then you’re right!” Faith yelled.

 

“Huh?” Buffy looked at her in surprise.

 

“YES, YOU! MISS I KNOW I’M A SLAYER BUT I STILL LIKE TO FUCK DEMONS!”

 

“I’M NOT FUCKING HIM!” Buffy yelled back.

 

“No, once was enough, huh? I don’t buy it, B. Don’t even try to tell me you wouldn’t jump him in a second if you had the chance. One look from Angel and you’d be giving his soul another one-way trip to nowheresville. I would’ve dusted him earlier tonight if you hadn’t stopped me, and come to think of it, that’s still next on my list of things to do.”

 

“You leave Angel alone,” Buffy warned, hands balled into fists. “You go after him, and you make an enemy of me. And you don’t want that.”

 

“The way I see it, B, YOU destroyed our friendship when you chose to protect him over doing your duty as a Slayer. And when you chose to try to beat me to a pulp. Which I still owe you for.” Catching Buffy off guard, Faith slammed her fist into Buffy’s face, sending Buffy to her back on the floor.

 

“Damn that felt good,” Faith grinned.

 

“I can’t believe you just did that, you BITCH!” Buffy yelled, jumping up. She wiped the blood from her nose, and said, “I’m warning you, Faith, leave town NOW. You’ve outlasted your welcome.”

 

“I’m not going anywhere, little girl” Faith replied calmly. “You’re wrong about this being your town. This is my territory now. You lost the title of Slayer when you died, B. I’m the Slayer. The *only* Slayer. Because the way I hear it, the Council won’t want you on their team now. Not now that you’ve proven your loyalty lies with demons.”

 

Buffy laughed, “You think I give a shit what the Council thinks? You can have them, they’re as psychopathic as you. But this is still MY town, MY territory, and you’ll leave. Even if I have to run you out myself.”

 

“Just try it, B.” Faith said boredly, and punched Buffy hard in the face one more time, sending her stumbling out of the door, muttering curses. She walked up and slammed the door shut, locking the deadbolt. “Just try it.”

 

“Well, that was definitely more fun than breaking inanimate objects,” she remarked, as she flopped back down on her bed.

 

Part Two

 

            He took a drag from his cigarette and another sip of beer, always a sip of beer, just one more sip. *One more sip and it’ll be better, Spike. Just one more sip.* He threw the empty can in the back of the car and searched for another. “Bloodyhell beer, where’d ya go?” He looked down for another beer, trusting the road to stay right where it was. It was when he felt the car swerve that he looked up right as the car hit the sign. His and Dru’s sign. He opened the door and fell onto the ground, “home sweet home.” He cried into the night.

 

*******

 

            Faith laid on the bed flipping through the primetime programs, flipping through the TV Guide as well. She’d watched that stupid creek show but couldn’t stand it. She threw the book across the room and got dressed in her leathers. She wanted some fun. She wanted a good fuck. She needed a good fuck. Fighting with B had made her hungry and horny, guess it didn’t matter whether she was fighting the righteous or wicked, to her body, they were the same.

 

*******

 

            The bloody car wouldn’t start! He needed beer. He needed blood. He needed bloody beer, or beery blood. *That didn’t make sense.* He stood up and shut the door to the car. “Stay right here.” He said to it before stumbling away. He walked a couple blocks before spotting a couple kissing heavily on a park bench. *Their* park bench. “Hey!” He said approaching them. The two stopped kissing and looked up at him.

“This is MY PARK BENCH!” He screamed at the night. The two got up quickly but he grabbed the girl. She smelled pretty, like perfume and sex. “YousmellSOgood.”

            “HEY MAN! That’s MY girlfriend.” Spike, still holding the girl still with one arm, used the other free hand to run his hand under the girl’s skirt.

            “She’ll be fine mate,” he said emphasizing the t.

            “NO! Come on Amanda.”

            “Amanda? Pretty name... not as pretty as Dru thought! You’re not as pretty as MY Dru either.” He snapped the girl’s neck quickly. The boy tried to run but Spike grabbed him. He sank his fangs into his neck and the boy was drained within minutes. His blood tasted of sex, sex... how Spike missed sex!

Dru had been mean, she hadn’t played, because of *nancyboy.* He lost her AGAIN because of her ‘Angel.’ But if Dru didn’t want him, she didn’t want him. He was a new man. “A new man I am.” He said as he strolled off in search of a bar with good food, and good drink, and perhaps a good lookin’ whore.

 

*******

 

            *B doesn’t care. That’s fine. B wants to be with Angel. B wants to fuck Angel. B wants to watch the world get sucked into hell.* Faith walked down the street and came across a bar, the No-Name. Adequately named, she didn’t want to be known tonight. She went in and sat at the bar.

            “What’ll it be little lady?”

            “Scotch, no ice, no water.” The bar keep brought it to her and she drank it down quickly.

 

            He strolled by THEIR factory. He HAD to stop thinking like that. He’d thought about Willie’s, but the LAST thing he needed tonight was a SLAYER knowing he was in town. He looked across the street, the No-Name, perfect. He opened the door and walked up to the bar.

            “What’ll it be buddy?”

            “Got whisky?” And he drank it down.

 

Part Three

 

            One drink had become two, which had become five, which had become ten, and then she’d lost count. Things were blurry and it was nice. It was nice to drown out the slayer senses and be ‘normal’ for a change. She was playing pool with some guy, and was losing. She couldn’t remember if they were playing for money or not, though she had the sinking feeling that they were.

 

            He looked around as one whisky became three. Out of the corner of his eye, he caught a glimpse of long jet-black hair. He turned, his whole body crying out, DRU!...but then sighed morosely as he realized  THIS hair was VERY curly, and Dru’s was not. His Dru, the only female that could remotely satisfy him. He’d been with several dozen mortals and demons alike, but none were as good, they couldn’t even compare. They were too weak. Angel had had a good idea in fucking a slayer.

            He snorted at the thought. As if Buffy would sleep with him, he’d be lucky if she let him leave town again. He watched the girl with the jet-black hair, though, as if he was drawn to her, feeling drawn to her. As if something inside him was telling him something. He took his drink and walked a little closer to her.

 

            She stood and watched the eight ball go into the pocket. *I didn’t do that. Did I do that? No, I’m certain that I didn’t do that. So who did?*

“You owe me little girl.” The big blur said.

            “Ferwhat?” Faith narrowed her eyes at him, hoping she was looking menacing, while in reality she was simply trying see the man behind the blur.

            “For the game. I won. You owe me a hundred bucks.”

            “I don’t have a hundred bucks.” She said shrugging. *When had they talked about money?*

            “Well,” the man grabbed her waist from behind and his hands slid up to her breasts, “I’m sure we could work something out.”

            “YEAH RIGHT! In your dreams pal!” She said, elbowing him in the gut and pulling away from him.

            “You owe me little girl. Your body shouldn’t make promises your wallet can’t afford.”

*What is he talking about?* Her body had never made ANY promise.

            She pushed him away. “I don’t owe you shit!” The man grabbed her arm. “I wouldn’t do that if I were you lil man.”

            “Whacha gonna do? Huh? Hit me? Please.”

            “Look, I’ve slain bigger n’uglier demons’an you. That’s fer sure.”

            “Oh yeah?” He said, pulling her back into him. “That so?”

            She whipped her head back into his nose and he screamed, letting go of her arm. “Yeah.” She said.

 

            *A Slayer!* She had to be. He watched as she grabbed the man’s wallet.

“Let’s see, one hundred dollars I believe you owe me.”

The man got up. “How so?”

            “Cause I won the game.” She said.

            “No way!”

She punched his nose hard again. “Didn’t I?” He nodded and she smiled, emptied his wallet, and went to the bar.

Spike followed her. *What kinda slayer goes around hittin’ and stealin’ from people? MY kinda Slayer, that’s what kind.* He sat next to her at the bar.

            “I’d ask if I could buy ya a drink, but it looks like you could buy me one.” He said, sitting so his knees were on either side of her bar stool, slightly barricading her in.

 

            Bad thing about being a slayer was that fighting had a bad way of sobering you faster than you wanted. She glanced over at the man.

            *Great, another blur* she thought with a sigh. *Well, maybe this one will be more fun.* But there was something about him, something familiar? Something that made her body scream, tingle... she wasn’t sure which. Had the other big blur not been such a jerk and been so demanding, he just might have gotten lucky.

The barkeep came over, “‘nother scotch?”

            “Nah, goes right to my head, I’ll have what he’s having.” She said and the barkeep asked the blond next to her.

            “Vodka on the rocks.” The guy said.

            His British accent permeated her mind then, and she turned her head, trying to focus on him a little more. He had nice features, he was very cute.

            *Fuck no! he’s gorgeous!* She turned, facing him, so her knees were between his.

            “I’m Faith, or I will be when I’m sober again.”

            “Name’s S... William.”

            “Well Swilliam, nice ta meecha.”

            “So you buyin’ me a drink’er not?” He asked with a dazzling grin that took her breath away.

            “Well, we did order it, didn’t we?”

 

            She smelled nice, like a girl, a strong girl, a girl with a weakness for strawberry shampoo, and violence, and leather. She wore tight-fitting black leather pants, and a red leather halter-top, that pushed her full breasts up and exposed her navel.

            He wanted to fuck her, he shook his head at this ridiculous thought. He shouldn’t. She was the enemy. He let his eyes roam over her body again. But he just couldn’t help it. He wanted to fuck her.

            He looked over at the large man sitting glaring at her. He nodded over to him, “looks like he’s not your friend anymore.”

            “Well,” she said with a smirk, placing her hands on his upper thighs, “I make friends easy.” *She fuckin’ purred* Spike realized through his alcohol-induced haze. She ran her hands up his thighs and his

jeans were suddenly too tight. “Answer me somethin’ Swilliam.”

“What?” Spike asked, shaking his head to attempt to clear his mind. She leaned in close, her lips were SO very close to his, “do you play pool?” She asked giggling as she stood up and gulped the drink down.

            Things would be interesting indeed.

 

Part Four

 

            “Oh no! I fergot how to play. Help me?” She said sweetly. He moved to stand behind her to help her hold the cue. He felt her ass rubbing his jean-clad erection and stifled a groan. He definitely didn’t want her thinking SHE was in control here. *I’m in control. I’m a fuckin’ Master Vampire* he reminded himself.

 

“Is that a cue or are ya happy taseeme?” She whispered as he leaned her over the table, his cheek to hers. She licked his ear, he loved it when his ear was licked, it was something stupid, but it didn’t change the fact that it made his already tight jeans tighter. Spike couldn’t keep a growl from escaping his throat.

 

“Oh baby likes it.” She said grinding her ass into his hard-on. “Wonder what else he likes.”

 

            He ‘helped’ her break and stood up straight as she walked behind him, brushing his ass with her hand. He leaned over to take his shot and made the mistake of looking across the table at her. She was leaning over the table, breasts practically hanging out onto the table. That wasn’t what made him lose it, however. What made him lose it was what she was holding: an ice cube. No, that wasn’t quite right. What made him lose it was what she was DOING with that very lucky ice cube. She was holding it between two fingers, and rubbing it on the bare skin above her halter top, letting it melt, sending rivulets of water into her shirt.

            Unable to tear his eyes away from her, he shot and completely missed, sending the white ball in the opposite direction from the rest of the balls. “Fuck,” Spike muttered, and he looked up to see her eyes dancing in laughter.

            “Not yet,” she winked at him. She then sucked the ice cube into her mouth and turned to contemplate the table, adding, “My turn.”

            “Guess so.” He shrugged. She jumped up onto the edge of the table.  “Aren’t you gonna shoot?”

            “Aren’t you gonna help me Swilliam?” He walked over to her and her legs wrapped around his waist pulling him into her. She gyrated her hips slightly and ground into his.

            “Aren’t you gonna hit the balls?”

            “I can think of better things to do with your balls.” She smirked and before he knew it, her lips were upon his, forcefully, cruelly, passionately. That didn’t affect him half as much as her hand cupping his erection through his jeans. She pulled hand and mouth away and leaned in again to lick his ear before whispering, “let’s go back to my place.”

            Well, he had wanted a fuck. And Angelus HAD told him Buffy’s slayer strength had come in handy, and *WHY THE HELL NOT?* She was clearly not your ordinary slayer and he was clearly drunk and *hell, she is too. She doesn’t realize what I am, this could be fun.* She smelled so pretty, and felt so warm. And when he had finished contemplating all these things, he realized she’d dragged him out the door and into the cemetery across the street. she was dragging him into the cemetery.

            “My place is this way.” She turned around and kissed him as they walked. Her hand slipped under his shirt and he felt her warm fingers twisting his nipples. She’d clearly done this before, several times he imagined. He smirked, *Not like Buffy the Vampire Layer. Good. I’m not Poof-boy* He pulled her close to him and slid his hands down her leather pants to grab her ass.

 

            *Fuck!* He felt good, SO good. He tasted even better, his mouth, his soft pale skin. “Cold,” she said then, and pulled away with a frown. Her head was trying to tell her something, but she couldn’t keep the thought in one place long enough to take hold of it.

 

Spike regarded her silently for a moment. *Fuck, she’s figured it out.* He ventured, “It’s cold out here,” watching her to see if she bought it. She did. Before he could say “Fuck me”, she was unzipping his pants in the middle of the cemetery.

 

            She needed him, she looked down and practically sobered right up as his erection sprang free. “HOLY SHIT!” She gasped. She’d certainly never seen any as big.

“It’s all for you pet.” Spike grinned at her. He’d forgotten how fun it was to watch their reactions when they saw it for the first time.

“God I’m SO ready for you.” She said as he slid her pants down.

“No panties love? How refreshing.” Spike smirked at her, as his blue eyes met her brown ones. She moaned softly as his hand rubbed her heated, moist sex. “Guess ya’are ready love.”

 

            “Fuck me Swilliam.” She ordered. And with one swift move, her legs were wrapped around his waist and his long thick cock was buried inside her. She felt herself stretching to accommodate the handsome stranger that had turned out to be well worth her time. He stumbled over to a gravestone and set her ass on top of it as he began pounding into her. She arched into him and groaned as his pelvis bone hit her clit. “Harder.” She whimpered.

 

            Spike had to admit, the Poof had the right idea about slayers. They were better than mortals. She squeezed her muscles tight around him. *Fuck they’re better than mortals.* And MUCH better than vampires. Not only did they have the strength, but the human heat he loved so much. He sawed in and out of her and loved how she encased him in molten heat, even drunk off his rocker he could appreciate that.

No kissing was involved, only hands and her whimpers and his hard fast thrusts and the sound of his body hitting hers. He kissed her neck, licked it, ran his blunt teeth over the tender skin that kept her blood within her body.

            He resisted the urge to slip into gameface and sink his fangs into her neck. *Not yet,* he thought. *Fuck now, drink later* He moved away from the temptation of the jugular vein and ] He tasted the saltiness of her sweat, as it dripped down her forehead.

            He was close, close to falling over the edge, close to spilling his load inside the slayer, his enemy. He felt her tongue, at his ear and he lost control, thrusting hard once more as he spurted his cool semen into her fiery depths. He buried his face in her neck as his gameface finally slipped out. He felt her muscles contracting around him, milking him for every last drop, while bathing him in her own juices. He forced his gameface back into hiding, and  looked up as she released her hold on his waist.

 

            He looked up and she released his waist. “Back to my place?” She whispered and he nodded quickly. They ran off.

 

*******

Faith’s Apartment

early the next morning

 

            She dreamed of coming home with someone and fucking until they passed out. She slowly opened her eyes, looking at the ceiling. She soon realized she felt sore. It hadn’t been a dream. She looked at the clock, 5:30. Early, but she had to pee. She was naked, so was he. She turned over onto her side to look at him better. He was lying on his side facing her, still sound asleep. Then he reached his hand across the bed to seek her out, still asleep, settling it on the arm that was holding her head up. His hand was cold. He looked familiar. He touched his cheek, it was cold too. She touched his chest, his cold, pale, alabaster chest. “FUCK!” She jumped up off the bed, taking the sheet with her.

 

            He woke up to swearing. He opened his eyes, he was naked. It took him just a moment to remember, *I fucked the Slayer!* He grinned over to where she was standing, sheet wrapped around her naked body.

            “WHO THE FUCK ARE YOU?”

 

            “Name’s Spike, and I’m a little tired love, would you mind shuttin’  the shades? I don’t fancy bein’ dust quite so early in the mornin’. And then you can come back to bed.”

 

 

 

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