Xander's glad the
him here in this world was already off in the head to begin with, because when
he came home with Giles earlier to an apartment he'd never seen before, he had
a hard time suppressing his freak-out.
Again with the bizarreness of Giles cooking them dinner after Xander
wandered down the hall and found 'his room'. It was oddly vacant of anything
older than two years old or so, and that brought up even more questions that he
already had. Buffy.
For the majority of
the night, he kept the random images of his friend at bay with Giles' lulling
voice. Talk of impending doom, more about Mr. Trick and his antics, chatter
about Jenny and their date tomorrow night, admonitions about keeping his eyes
on the prize in school. After a while, Giles takes up a book, and Xander
sprawls on the couch pretending to study. As he does, the words 'what happened
to my mom and dad' keep choking him, but he figures someone will say * something* about it eventually, and he
doesn't want to get locked in a loony bin quite yet.
"Knock,
knock," Faith says around the edge of Giles' door as she pushes it inward
and steps inside.
"Like any of you people ever bloody well
knock." Giles complains, taking a sip of the tea he's holding, making a
face, and then blowing across the surface until it ripples in little waves. He
samples it again and seems satisfied this time.
Faith appraises the
British man with an expression of amused annoyance that isn't completely
without a small measure of respect. Stands facing him, with one hip sticking
out at a cocky angle, arms crossed over her stomach. "Well, at least I mimed it this time. Don't let the stick up
your ass bruise your intestines."
Xander looks up
from where he's lounging on the couch with a textbook across his stomach. Not
studying the equations that just make his head swim. Instead thinking about
Buffy. All the Buffy this world has missed, that the HIM that was here until
today missed. All the bad parts too: Angelus being the first one and the last
one his mind hovers over. He's been trying to figure out how to ask Giles how
she died. When. Focuses on Faith, all dimples and lip-gloss. "What's
up?"
"Just came by to see if you wanted to
hit the pavement with me, kill some things, you know, the whole slaying
routine." She comes around and
stands in front of him, kicks the cushion about an inch from his thigh.
"Save you from a life of being a lazy-ass slacker."
Giles cuts Xander a
look that Faith doesn't see.
"You're still
all weirded out, huh? Wanna talk about it?" She studies him through
strands of loose brown hair, hands in her back pocket, and he can't help but
feel a little tightening in his cock. Faith really is beautiful but something
inside can't accept that they're together. Suddenly he actively *does* want to
go out patrolling with her, to some hidden corner of the cemetery...
But no, that's not
where his brain needs to be heading right now.
And when he sees Faith naked and writhing below him, Anya's face keeps
blacking out Faith's. "No, nothing to talk about, I just need to do some
homework." And possibly take a cold shower.
"Homework? Homework makes your dick fall
off." She laughs.
"And thanks
for that public service announcement." Looks over to see Giles wide-eyed
in horror at the turn the conversation has taken.
"I can hang
here for a while then while you study?
Watch some 'Must See T.V'?"
"Ok, sounds
good to me." He lifts his legs up, and she sits down, allows him to rest
his legs on her lap. "You could quiz me?" He asks, waving the
chemistry book in the air.
"Hell
no." She reaches for the remote control and flips the channel.
Giles sighs,
"Alright, children, I'm going to my room to read. Don't stay up too late.
Early morning and all that rubbish." He lingers like he wants to say
something else, but eventually begins that long walk down the hallway with cup
in one hand and folded paper under one arm.
"A'ight old
man." Faith calls over her shoulder as she hunches further into the couch
cushions in a slouch, wiggling her hips forward and swinging her legs up to
cross them on the coffee table.
"Goodnight,
Giles."
"I never
thought he would hit the hay." Faith punches the buttons of the remote and
switches to HBO, gives a lewd smirk when the scene shifts to the tangled limbs
and bare flesh of a couple in the back seat of a car.
"Yeah, he's always been a night owl
though." And there's no embarrassment to be watching this with her.
They're supposed to be dating, aren't they? At least she doesn't give a
play-by-play commentary like Anya used to //'Look, he will penetrate her from
behind.' Oh God Anya. 'Well, he will...see?' Yeah, but you don't have to say it
out loud! Because that's wrong... 'I didn't know...I'm sorry.'//
"I guess that
goes for all the idiots I know these days." Faith hoots with a sneer
"You calling
me an idiot?" Xander asks in confusion before he realizes she was
responding to the action on the screen.
Faith turns away from the TV and crosses her
eyes at him. "The biggest one I know."
"I guess you
got me there." Xander deadpans, straight face, no emotion. He watches as
her faces shifts, showing him she's kidding, that it's all cool between them,
and he wonders if Faith and Buffy ever knew one another here, if they were
friends. Feels his body tense, the
muscles in his face hardening as he realises he might have seen Buffy for the
last time.
"Oh fuck,
you're not taking me seriously again, are you? You need some heavy
medication."
"Yeah, a
bottle of Jack Daniels." Xander says, rubbing his chin like he used to see
his Uncle Rory do after he'd drank his last bottle.
"Do you have a
fever? You thinking about taking up drinking again? I thought you were over
that whole puking up your guts thing."
"Uh, yeah, I am. Just joking, I'm a
comedian. I'm here all week, two shows on Sunday." He can't help but laugh
when she flashes him a smile. She
reaches out her hand and runs it up his leg. "So."
"So?" He
knows where this is going, and he's trying to figure out how he can rebuff her
without ending up with a broken nose or a cracked rib.
"The geezer's
all snug." Her smile kicks up a notch, and her tongue darts out to taste
her abundantly shiny lips.
"I noticed
that, what with his saying goodnight and all." He slides up so he's
sitting against the arm of the couch, legs out of her reach. This doesn't
remove the predatory aspect to her face however; she just switches gears.
"You gonna
start talking about not doing it in the house again?" Rolls to her feet
and moves to stand in front of him. His response takes too long for her, and
she leans down, one hand twisting in his hair to pull his head back, the other
swatting his fingers away when he reaches to stop her.
"Yeah, not in
the house. It's not cool. You know how I feel about that." And he's trying
to feel something about that right now. Her breasts are inches from his face,
no cleavage showing in the tight-cut t-shirt, but the outline of her bra is stark
with the cotton pulled tight from her stance.
"Old
conversation." In a blink, her mouth's on his, tongue prying his lips
apart, and all he can do is fall into the taste of her. Another memory,
cigarettes and cherry, this is the same girl after all, the essence still there
if not the killing tendencies. Out of reflex, one of his hands flies to her
chest, one grope his conscience whispers. Feels the slide of satin under
cotton, the lace at the edges raised under his fingertips, the nub of her
nipple puckering immediately against his palm.
She pulls back,
grin firmly ensconced on her smudged lips. "Outside then, get a move
on." Her hand drops from his hair to yank at the waistband of his pants,
and he wants to err on the side of caution, tell her no it's not right he's not
her man he's too fucked up for this and it's just wrong wrong wrong. Wrong because he still loves Anya, wrong
because maybe this is his chance to get the Willow thing right, wrong because
he doesn't know her, the Faith person, at all. But her free hand skates down to
rub the spot his hand just left, and all the lust he ever felt for her washes
him into the gutter he thought he'd left permanently.
"Ok." He
nods and lets her tug him behind her. Out the door he knows Giles has to hear
open and shut, out into the courtyard he's unfamiliar with. Faith seems to be
old hat with this place though. She makes for a small playground, jungle gym,
swing set, sandbox, and a copious amount of shrubbery. The bushes seem to be
the spot, and he actually laughs out loud. Doesn't break stride, but she turns
her head slightly and smiles back at him. That's when it hits him fully. This
isn't the Faith he knew. The
differences aren't just surface. This is a completely altered person. The
smiles she gives him aren't façade or underlain with pain or mockery. They're
genuine and filled with something he'd never seen in her, ease.
Xander sees that
here in the area they stop at, there's no illumination from the lights that
shine around the apartment complex. It's pitch-black and sheltered from the
windows and doors of the complex. Faith knows her stuff. She bends and yanks an afghan out from under
the bush next to them, kneels and spreads it out on the leaf-strewn ground.
"What're you
waiting for? An engraved invitation?" She blinks up at him staring down at
her. Shadows cover his face, he knows that, and is glad for it. Because when a
glimmer of fear crosses her face, he echoes it. Two beats, and he's on his
knees. Worried about how easily she should be able to tell he isn't her lover.
Not the one she last touched here in their secret place. Wants her to take the
lead now that he committed himself to this stupidity in one of his less stellar
moments. Lays on his back and tries to grin for all he's worth.
"Well trained."
She murmurs as she hastily undoes the fly of her jeans. Shimmies out of them
and snatches at his. In his socks anyway, so she has them over his legs in
short order along with his boxers. He can't see her face now, as she pulls her
shirt over her head and moves over him. She straddles his thighs, her hair
falling over her face as she leans down to him.
"I left my bra
on this time. So you can take it off. Makes you hot, doesn't it?"
Whispered against his lips. And his body is definitely seventeen again, because
he feels the wetness spread out from where his cock rests against his belly at
her words. Grabs her head when she moves to pull back, and keeps her in place
while he sucks the rest of the gloss from her bottom lip, slides his tongue
inside and owns the grind of her hips against his legs. Lets her go as she
slides forward, takes him in hand and engulfs him in one downward thrust.
His backs arcs off
the ground, and one hand clenches on her hip. She rolls and slides, her own
head thrown back, burr to her voice as she tells him how much she loves the
feel of him inside her, how she wants to mark him so no one else will ever have
him. His eyes unclamp, and he strains to see her in the non-light. Black satin
on white flesh, and he remembers on an up-slide that she left him a prize to
open.
His free hand
shakes as he slips her bra-strap down her shoulder. Peels down the cup and
flicks a thumbnail over her nipple. Beyond words, she simply clenches her
muscles around him and holds still for a half-second. Front-loader, that's
Faith. He unclasps the bra and lets the material hang as he circles her breast
with his whole hand and squeezes gently.
Her rhythm restarts, and he knows it's not gonna be long now. Takes his
hand off her hip, and pushes his fingers against her body where they're joined.
Her gasp lets him know it's the right spot. Five more rises and falls, and she
lets out and a roar, constricts around him, and he's right there with her.
Faith collapses on
top of him, and he can feel the semen leaking out onto his leg. His heart is
still rabbit fast, and it pings even higher when it registers that this isn't
Anya, and not using a condom is not advisable when you're in high school and
your girlfriend's notoriously non-monogamous.
Her mouth flutters open-mouthed kisses along his jaw, and her arms snake
under him to hold him to her. He lets her do whatever is the normal after sex
routine for them, bringing his arms up to circle her. He's drawn from his
thoughts about teenage pregnancy and AIDS when he realises that Faith's
mumbling to him. The same words
murmured almost under a whisper. "Love you, babe. Love you so
much." And Xander is suddenly
scared all over again. Immediately thinks about calling Willow when he gets in
the apartment, no, ixnay on the Lowbay, maybe Buffy...fuck, he's screwed.
************************