|
DISCLAIMER: Nope, not mine.
SUMMARY: R. After 'Becoming' but before 'Faith, Hope and Trick'. Faith runs into
Spike, Spike runs into Faith. Yes, I meant that timeline. Have a little trust in me,
people. *g*
WORDCOUNT: 2341
DEDICATION: For Faith. I know this is not what you asked for, but by now you know
my muse. Ask for lemons and you'll get oranges, or mandarines. But at least it's always a
cytrus! *G*
THANK YOU: To Wolf for the very helpful beta. *hugs*
COINCIDENCE?
by Leni
Faith liked to march through the streets on her own. Boston was her city, all hers now,
and she didn't need a worried Watcher to show all the creeps that the Slayer was now in
town. Watcher dearest was a good man, fretted like an old lady about her and demanded she
ate all her meals, but that was alright. It even felt good sometimes.
But Faith wasn't about to let Mr. Worrywart run her life. So, in those few nights when the
man was busy going through his innumerable texts, Faith took matters into her own hands
and went alone. Unofficial patrols, she called them, with no Watcher babying her,
critiquing her technique at every turn, and then making her go straight to bed, as if she
didn't have needs and wants.
Now, as she dusted the last vampire off her clothes, Faith realised it. This felt
good.
---
Spike didn't like this place. The States had lost all its charm for him. Sunnydale had
been a fiasco, and if he ever met that little blonde again he wouldn't hesitate to kill
her, slowly. Sometimes he even was tempted to go back, attack the Slayer when she was at
her lowest after the fight with Angelus. But no, not now, not when Drusilla was at risk in
that goddamned place. Now all he wanted was a nice city in Brazil, or even Mexico if they
couldn't make it that far down. A place busy and loud enough for no one to notice as he
and Drusilla plucked out their dinner at their leisure. But, instead, here he was, still
stuck in this country, all because Drusilla was still furious about his supposed
'betrayal' and had asked to come here. Why Boston of all places, he wasn't sure. To show
him that things were never finished, had been her only explanation.
Right now Spike was wandering the streets, with only a cigarette and the warm blood of a
teenage couple as company. Since her recovery, Drusilla insisted on being on her own and,
sincerely, Spike was fed up of asking her to take it easy. Better let her sudden autonomy
burn itself until she came back to him, asking for him to bring the rosiest toddler he
could find.
Well, look at that. He stopped midstep. That solitary figure just ahead was no toddler.
But she just might be tonight's romantic surprise for Dru. He quickened his step until he
reached her. "Got a light?" he asked, a smile teasing his lips in the way Spike
knew women liked.
She barely stopped walking, instead looking at him in something that resembled boredom.
Oh, so it's one of those girls. Difficult to please, these ones were, they thought
they knew everything under the sun when they weren't even two decades old. Silly fucks, if
challenging, and Spike could use the easy challenge now that Drusilla wasn't amenable to
his advances. He lost the smile instantly, hardened his features as if he was really
asking for a stranger's favour. "Have a light?" he repeated.
The girl finally stopped, the roll of her eyes evident as she palmed his pockets through
the leather. After a couple seconds she found the right pocket, and shook her head as she
fished out his lighter. "Here," she said with a tiny mocking smile as she
presented it to him. Spike nodded his thanks, smile widening as his right hand went around
hers, wordlessly leading her fingers to light the fire. Then he bent down, cigarette in
mouth, and took a drag until the tip was alight. Her laugh was truly amused this time, and
as he watched he could see the light of want beginning to glow in her eyes. Perfect.
"Want one?" he said, nodding to the pocket where the red of a Morley's packet
was peeking from, and meaning something else entirely. She nodded, and took the lit
cigarette from his mouth with one hand as the other went behind his head. He didn't hear
the noiseless thump against the ground as her lips touched his. This part is the easiest,
he thought as he brought his arms around her, never letting her break away from the kiss.
This is the part where he hooked a finger in her pants' waistline, and pulled her closer
to his body. This is the part where...
---
...she finally gave in. Faith sighed into the kiss. It's been weeks since she'd found such
a good kisser, and never had a guy moved so fast without her minding it. Since this Slayer
business started, it'd gotten more difficult to find someone who truly pleased her, or
didn't run scared after the first round. But this might be her lucky night, she thought,
and felt a happy rush through her veins.
Her body bent into his, legs slightly apart and hips cradling him smoothly. Yes, lucky
indeed. Faith moved one hand around his back, feeling everything through leather and
cloth. The other she kept tightened around his shoulder, balancing herself. Then she
thought that it was time to lose the coat, brought her hand forward to deal with the
buttons. One gone, two gone, and for the third she must pass a hand over his heart and...
---
...she tasted different. Not like a normal teenager, not even like a horny one. The
closest he'd ever been to this taste was when...
Spike could almost hit himself, especially when he felt her hand freezing over his heart.
All that time lost. Stupid, stupid, stupid. In the last months he'd grown so used to
battling against a Slayer that now he couldn't tell when he was almost fucking one. Such
an idiot. He felt the hand going surreptitiously to her pocket, realised her intent, and
threw her away as if she were on fire. Which, for him, was just as threatening as the
stake that was now held in her hand.
Spike took a better look at her. Her hair was still mussed around, and her chest heaved as
she caught her breath. If only they could have remained ignorant of each other's
identities for another ten minutes, or, he rethought as he looked into her frustrated,
angry dark eyes, maybe another hour. But that was not to be, and now they stood feet
apart, aware that only one of them would survive the night.
Of course, considering that Drusilla just killed a Slayer, this must be the new one.
Poorly trained and with almost no actual experience. That's what he loved about the
Slayers, the Council coddled them until they sent them to fight. Must be nice to have an
endless supply of fighters, Spike assumed. A fact that had worked in his favour twice
already, and he damned the Council for not having 'trained' Buffy in time. A third
conquest in Sunnydale would have worked so sweetly. But, tonight, he'd be the one to walk
away from the fight, and not in a wheelchair or making pacts with his enemy. "Come
on, didn't you want to play?" he called to her, the same challenging tone in his
voice as when he asked for light the second time. Spike waited until her head tilted
unconsciously in curiosity. Thought he'd escape, didn't she? As if he'd flee from one
undernourished hero-wannabe. Eventually her stance relaxed and her hand loosened the
slightest bit around the thin piece of wood, typical wannabe mistake, to think that
because the enemy wasn't attacking he must be easy prey. Then he added, "Shy so
soon... Slayer?"
He took the second where she was confused at his knowledge and tackled her, sending them
both to the ground. She tried to fight him off, roll them over and gain the advantage. But
this little girl didn't have a century of experience, and she certainly didn't have half
his will to taste the victory of her blood. His fist knocked against her right wrist so
harshly that the stake went flying behind them. Somewhere she couldn't reach and he didn't
care to know. His knee pressed forcefully against her stomach, hands still pushing her to
the ground. Spike regarded her with a grin he couldn't hide if he tried, and tried to
decide whether to make her the third Slayer under his belt or take her to be Drusilla's
second.
"What are you waiting for?" she spat out, all her fight gone and lying limply
under his grasp.
He tightened his hold, not about to be tricked by such a performance. Playing dead was
already old by the time he was turned. But his grin widened as he realised that, finally,
he could lean down in that very second, fangs ready and eager, break through her skin and
taste the nectar he knows Slayers are made of. And she wouldn't be able to stop him. So
helpless, Spike thought amusedly. Bet this girl wished her predecessor hadn't bitten the
dust so soon.
---
What Faith was thinking was that this was impossible. She, Slayer. He, vampire. He wasn't
supposed to be stronger. He certainly wasn't supposed to be winning.
If a normal life was in the past, and now she wasn't good enough to be the Slayer, then
what the fuck was she doing alive?
---
Then she did the unthinkable. A hundred years and too many turns in the world, and yet the
next moment shocked Spike to his core. Her chin lifted in challenge, but instead of
throwing a couple extra words of choice at his face, it leaned to the side, leaving all
that precious skin of her neck bare and delicious and oh so handy under him. He was
licking his lips before he could notice it. Then he came back to himself. "Are you
crazy?" he shouted down at her, furious because she'd dared interrupt his victory
with her apparent defeat. Then another thought assaulted him. All those 'bars' he'd seen
in the cities; whores, vampires and drugs coexisting in blissful, thoughtless nights.
Drugs that rendered vampires helpless, drugs that were carried in any human's blood. And
he'd thought Blondie was resourceful?
His hands gripped her forearms harder, his whole body forced down on hers as he hissed
against her ear. "Don't think so, beautiful." Spike made his knee dig further
until he heard a satisfactory gasp for breath. In that second his hands left her body,
aiming for a quick snap of what had seemed such a delicious neck. Pity, that he wouldn't
be able to drain this one.
But that was a second where only half his strength was holding her down. And she seized it
with an eagerness that belied her former desire to die. Her upper body rose from the
ground, making him lose his equilibrium, at the same time her elbow hit against his
cheekbone. Spike saw red as he lunged to trap her again. Then he saw nothing, and then
there was only a noise at his back. He jumped to his feet and turned, not at all surprised
to find the girl in a fighting position, a metal bar clutched in her right hand. Now,
metal couldn't kill him, but the look in her eyes told him that it could hurt him. And
that she would make it hurt even more.
"I don't have time for this," she muttered so low that Spike knew she didn't
know he'd heard her. "Stay there!" she shouted next, pointing at him with the
bar as she ducked and searched the ground for her lost stake.
Spike shrugged, but flexed his hands in his pocket. The slightest mistake, the barest
opening and this girl was his. You didn't find a Slayer every day, not when you were so
far away from a handy Hellmouth.
He never got his chance. As careless as she'd been in the beginning, self-preservation
made the little girl observe his every move. Once she found her stake, she whirled around
and threw it at him without hesitation. Spike knew that look. It meant that he'd die if he
didn't move. And that he'd lose her if he did.
But self-preservation was first, so he ducked, and once the piece of wood clattered
harmlessly behind him, there was nobody else in the street. "Bugger," Spike
muttered moodily, staring at the place where he'd last seen the brunette.
---
Hidden just around the corner, Faith watched him leave. It was the first time a vampire
had escaped her - and how was that possible? She was the Vampire Slayer, why hadn't she be
able to slay this vamp? She knew she'd given her best, and still he was walking away and
she hid afraid to confront him again and truly lose this time. Maybe she wasn't as good as
she'd thought she was. Maybe this Slayer deal only meant that beings more powerful than
pimps and her mother's boyfriends were interested in her now.
But it was her role. She was the Slayer. No, Faith wasn't going to die and
leave some other girl with her power. So, for now, she trained. More and more until she
really was the strongest fighter in the world. But this particular night would remain her
secret, hers and that odious vampire's who'd gotten away. She wouldn't tell her Watcher
about it, the last thing Faith wanted was to look like a loser. Not to the one person who
gave a damn about her.
---
Spike turned around sharply, coat billowing around him as he made an angry exit. The
little Slayer was near, so tense and nervous he could almost taste her. But dawn was close
as well; forget it. He hated beginner's luck when it wasn't his.
Things were never finished, alright, point taken. They'd left a Slayer alive but there
were others, that was Drusilla's message. There was no need to remember and obsess over
Sunnydale, because even if Goldilocks continued in her lucky streak, these others would be
so much easier to defeat. "I'll catch you, Slayer." Then, more loudly. "Did
you hear me? I will!"
The End
06/02/05
Feedback
is welcome!
|