Walkabout by Queen Zulu

Rating: NC-17
Disclaimer: Characters and backstory all belong to Joss Whedon and his army of flying monkeys. I make no profit, and neither does any website where my fics are posted, but Joss does all right. The army of flying monkeys works on commission.
Distribution: The Mystic Muse http://mysticmuse.net
The Written Realm: http://www.angelfire.com/dragon/writtenrealm/index.html
Feedback: I'm definitely in favor of it.
Spoilers: Timeline up to "Helpless".
Author's Note: Part of my collection "Season Three Would Be Better If I Wrote It", because I'm arrogant like that.
Pairing: Buffy/Faith

Summary: Faith saves someone helpless on the mean streets of Sunnydale. Does the hero always get the girl?

It felt good to be back in Sunnydale. Fuckin' strange, that. I mean, you'd think coming back to the Hellmouth wouldn't be a thing worth celebrating, what with the vamps trying to kill me every night, but, I dunno. It's stupid to actually look forward to that shitty motel room, but at least it's my shitty motel room, which is more than I can say for any place I crashed at between here and Boston. Before that was my Watcher's place, and before that, Dad's. So maybe I shouldn't be surprised. Sunnydale is home now.

That doesn't mean I don't need to take a break every now and then, though. And I sure as hell don't need Buffy Holier-Than-Thou Summers telling me she's the good slayer and I'm chopped liver. She'd never say it to my face, but I heard her laughing about it with Red when I went to visit her at school. I sneak over there every chance I get, whenever I can think up an excuse that's not too crappy, which is pretty pathetic, but it's not like anyone's expecting me to be the well-adjusted one. Anyway, I heard Buffy telling Red how she was the one doing special training with Giles about these crystal things, and how I hadn't shown up except for patrols for a week.

Like that's fucking my fault. Giles didn't call, and didn't say anything either when I showed up in the library to tell him about this nest I cleared out. So let him give Buffy extra training. She's the one that needs it. Last time I told her how many vamps I dusted in a week, her eyes went all wide and shocked, so I asked her what her record for a week was.

She stuttered and blushed and finally said, "This isn't a competition, Faith," which is what everyone says when they're losing.

I didn't call her on it, though. Mostly 'cause she's cute when she blushes, and I was too busy noticing.

And I knew, even while I was checkin' her out, that there was nothing doing on that account, which really pisses me off. That and how she doesn't even notice when she's flirting right back at me. She's too busy being the good slayer, getting all that hero-worship from Red and Xander. You couldn't tell her with a ten-foot neon sign that she thinks I'm hot stuff. When we're dancing, though, and she's staring at me (about a foot lower than my eyes), it's so obvious it's ridiculous. Still, Buffy wouldn't know romance if it didn't come in her favourite flavour--tall, dark, and brooding. I thought two out of three wasn't bad, but I guess the girl thing really freaks her out.

So I figured, let her take care of this shit-town for a week. It'd show her that I'm just as good a Slayer as her, and she'd miss me when I was gone and the vampire population started creeping up. And maybe when I came back, she'd say, "Faith, where were you? Bronzing isn't the same without you. I wanted to dance with you and you weren't here."

I was thinking about her saying that, and how I'd answer, and just where we would take things after that, when I heard the scream.

I had a stake out in a flash, and turned right around and started running in the direction it came from.

Night time in dear old Sunnyhell is not an unusual time to be hearing screams, not by a long shot. Before I was the Slayer, hearing screams meant walking the other way, fast, but not too fast, so the cops wouldn't suspect you if they saw you. Now, I'm supposed to be this big protector. You scream, I come running. Like a fireman helping a kitten out of a tree, that's me. Except no little old lady hands out fresh-baked cookies to the girl in the leather pants and the dark make-up.

That's another annoying thing about Buffy. I've hung out with her so long I'm starting to think it's not the reward that matters, or even the Slaying, it's just helping people out. I told her that once. Buffy gave me this half-teasing grin, like she was trying to keep a straight face and not laugh at me, and said, "You're becoming a real hero, there, Faith."

Well, so what if I am? That's what the job requirements say. I'm not the one bitching every night just because I have to go out Slaying.

I didn't answer her then, either, 'cause I didn't want to tell her which of us I thought was the real hero. There's more to it than doing the right thing; it's doing it with style, like. Graceful. A real hero looks beautiful just doing ordinary things.

I stopped dead. There was a chainlink fence blocking the alley, but that wasn't the reason. What stopped me short was that I finally saw who was doing the screaming.

She was running like she was exhausted, and the vampire rushing up behind her was grinning like all his Christmases had come at once. Was this some sort of joke? What the hell was Buffy doing? Maybe she was trying to lure him on, except usually you needed to beat vamps off with a stick--literally--before they'd ever give up the chase. I moved into the shadows of the alley, in case this was some plan of Buffy's, and I'd ruin it by playing the rescuer.

Buffy came to the fence and tried to climb it. I wanted to step out of my hiding spot and ask her what in hell she was trying to pull. We both coulda stepped over that fence like it was knee-high. But that's when I saw her face. She was crying and gasping for air, and when she fell down off the fence she didn't even try to land right. I saw her twist her knee. The vamp was coming fast and Buffy didn't even pull a stake. She was too busy looking to escape.

I came out of hiding, and with one bound, I was over the fence and giving the vamp the beating of his undead life. There was no contest. This was my element--kick ass first, ask questions after. He was a newbie, fresh-risen tonight, and I staked him after only a second. I turned around just as fast, and the first words I thought were, "What the fuck happened to you?"

Buffy was huddled beside the fence, sobbing but trying to hide it. I could see her shoulders shaking, though, and, hey, Slayer hearing. Jesus Christ, I leave for a week and look what happens. Her hair was a mess, all coming down out of its clips, and her shirt looked a little torn. If that undead bastard laid a hand on her, I shoulda cracked his skull open before I dusted his ass.

And, hell. Even laying in filth and crying, Buffy was beautiful. I think I may need help. I couldn't even say anything. I just went over to her and crouched beside her and kinda started stroking her hair. Jeez, I didn't know what to do. She's supposed to be the Slayer, the good one, the real one. I'm just second-hand goods, a mistake really. Before I knew it, I was talking to her, softly, just stuff like, "Shh, Buffy, it's okay, I got your back, right? Come on, he's gone now, you're okay."

Finally, Buffy sniffled, ran a hand under her nose, and nodded. "There was another one," she said. "Bigger."

"Okay." I still had no clue what was going on, but that's Buffy for you. The hero. Thinking first about the vamp that got away before she even worried about whether she was hurt. "I'll kill him for you, okay?"

This was supposed to be romantic? "Yeah, well, I expect roses for saving your ass," I said. "Buffy, what's going on?"

Buffy tried to stand, but her knee wouldn't hold her, and I got under her arm to help her up. Something was seriously wrong if a little twisted knee like that hurt her so bad. As if I didn't already know that things were well and truly fucked up.

"I don't know," she said. I could hear that she was trying hard not to start crying again. "It started two days ago--I just, I got dizzy and then I couldn't fight, and I was throwing knives like a girl, and I'm losing all my strength, and I can't even run, and at school Cordelia had to rescue me--"

She was really upset, but I couldn't let that pass. "Queen C came to save the day?" I asked, swallowing my chuckle as best I could.

Buffy slapped my arm for that. It felt like nothing at all. Creeped me right out. What's Buffy gonna do if she can't Slay? Hell, what am I gonna do when the Watcher's Council comes along and tells me I've been promoted?

"Giles said it was probably the flu, but it's just been getting worse, and my dad canceled on me for the ice show..." Buffy shook her head. "Not that that's important, it's just, he promised, and it's a tradition."

That was pretty low of him, but I didn't expect much of fathers in general, so I mostly let that pass. "Come on, Buffy, let's try to get you home, okay? Just lean on me."

It surprised me that she didn't argue, or try to show me a brave face or anything. She leaned pretty heavy on me, but I coulda carried her no problem. In fact, it was starting to look like a good idea. It was night in Sunnydale, after all, and we were walking slowly. She was giving out these little whimpers every time she limped on her bad leg, and I just wanted to make her feel better. Before I could think it over too hard, I slid my arm under her knee and lifted her up.

I don't know what she was gonna say, protest or what, but she didn't go on. I wondered if she still had her Slayer hearing, 'cause if so, she could probably hear my heart going a mile a minute. Not from the effort of holding her, I'll tell you that. I just muttered, "It's faster like this," and tried not to enjoy myself too much taking her home.

By the time we got within a block of Buffy's house, I was dying. Buffy obviously didn't want to talk, and that was fine by me, 'cause there was no way I was gonna be able to keep up intelligent conversation when her head was resting...where it was resting. I mean, okay, it's probably tough to stay stiff in somebody's arms when they're carrying you, but did she have to do the snuggling thing? And her breathing was hitting my neck just right, which was wonderful and horrible all at once. A couple of times I started jogging, so she wouldn't think I was getting all hot and bothered because of her. Buffy's got a big enough head already without me panting all over her.

When I managed to get my mind off Buffy, I was thinking about what did this to her. In Sunnydale, when weird shit starts happening, it's hardly an accident. One thing Buffy told me didn't ring true, and that was Giles telling her she had the flu. What bullshit. Giles is always the first one to suspect mystical influences, or curses, or even some once-in-a-lifetime conjunction of the planets. He gets excited when there's a chance of something Hellmouthy going down. Besides, even when Buffy really did have the flu, there was a death demon after her. So him basically giving her a bowl of chicken soup and a pat on the head--that felt wrong. He should be cleaning his glasses til the lenses wore through and living in the library until he figured out exactly what was going on and how to fix it.

What I saw when we got to Buffy's house didn't make me feel any better. The front door was standing wide open. I hopped up the porch steps and set Buffy on her feet--well, foot--and took out my stake. Joyce was too smart to invite a vamp in, but that didn't mean they might not be lurking.

Buffy bent over and picked up a red coat that had been kicked into a corner. A book fell out of it, and I scooped it up.

"This is mine," Buffy said. "The big vampire caught me and ripped it off me--that's how I got away from him."

"Huh." Looked pretty clear what had happened--the vamp had used Buffy's coat to lure her mom out of the house, probably by playing dead.

I joined her. There was a Polaroid of Joyce, looking terrified, taped to the doorframe. Buffy ripped it off and turned it over. On the back was an address and the word, "Come."

Well, no question who got to be the hero this time. Finding out what was wrong with Buffy would have to wait. "Listen, you just stay inside," I said. "I'll go, I'll get her back, I promise."

I gave her my most impatient sigh. "Buffy, you can barely walk. Listen, I won't kill him right away, I'll find your mom first. But I gotta go now, before--" I stopped myself from saying what we both knew might happen. The vamp coulda killed Joyce already. Or worse, made her one of them. If Joyce was turned, there was no way I was letting Buffy see her. I'd stake her myself, quickly, and no matter if Buffy hated me for it later.

Oh, great, now she's asking me? Big green eyes and her hand on my arm. I am such a sucker. "I suppose you figure I'm going to cart you over there," I said.

I snatched them right out of her hands. "Fine, but there's no way you're driving."

It came out sounding like a challenge, but I meant it, and I think Buffy knew it. She glared at me and hop-walked to the passenger side of the Jeep. I opened the doors and started the ignition. "I hope you're armed," I said. "I'm not going to babysit you in there."

Nothing gets Buffy's back up like me implying I'm the better Slayer. Even if it was true right now. She knew what I was doing, trying to get her angry instead of afraid. I grinned at her and she smiled back. Well, at least we understand each other.

I gunned the engine and slammed us into reverse, got out of the driveway, and headed for the address. I pitched the book on the seat between us and the front cover fell open. I glanced at it. Love poems. On the title page was written, "Always."

I rolled my eyes. That was easy for Angel to say, seeing as he was the immortal one in this dysfunctional excuse for a relationship. Still, Buffy would probably worship it, even if she never got around to reading any of the poems. I knew it was her birthday. I barely scraped together enough cash for her Christmas present, and she never wore it, so I figured it wasn't worth my effort this time. Angel had probably been saving this original edition of Elizabeth Browning since the lady herself handed him the book. Yet another reason to be out of town. I can't compete with that.

Buffy still wasn't saying anything, just watching the road with a tense look on her face. I'm not the type to brood, and I know Buffy's not either, usually. This power-drain thing was really getting to her. Plus, with her dad ditching her, she'd had one crappy week. And all the silence was making me feel guilty for not being here. Not that she would have cared if I was, or wanted to talk, or anything, but that didn't stop me from feeling bad. Shit, no one ever said love made sense.

"So, uh, happy birthday," I said, taking a turn on two wheels. It sounded really stupid, like I expected her to be having the time of her life right now. But at least I said it.

"Thanks," she said, again with that ironic smile that was almost laughing at me. Not quite, though. Never quite.

I screeched through a yellow light--nobody out and around at this time of night, and the place was on the outskirts of town, on the side opposite the docks, so there weren't a lot of people at the best of times.

"You and Angel get together for a little celebration?" I asked. I didn't really mean to bring it up, but like I say, anything but silence. I didn't put too much innuendo in it, either. I kept my eyes on the road.

Death-glare from the Buffster. No loss of power in the Slayer stare, anyway. Not that she'd be reassured if I told her that. And that was it for our conversation. Obviously Angel was a taboo subject these days, not that he wasn't always. Buffy's so fucking sensitive about him, just 'cause I flirt with her whenever I get the chance. The way I see it, if she were really immune to my charms, then she wouldn't get so agitated when I bring up Soulboy.

At least the silence didn't last long. I pulled up in front of this place that coulda starred in any number of haunted house movies and killed the engine. We climbed out of the Jeep, and I led the way up the front walk, my hand hovering near my stake.

Buffy limped along behind, trying to look every direction at once. She was acting so jumpy I decided she must be feeling what I could: this place reeked of vampires. It's a Slayer thing, I guess, to have your skin crawl whenever you're around a really strong vamp, or else a lot of them. And maybe that was cause for hope--if Buffy's vamp alarm still worked, then chances were her powers weren't gone--it was more like someone was interfering with them. And it was probably no coincidence this vamp we were hunting grabbed Joyce today. He was probably the one with the power-sucking mojo. He knew Buffy wouldn't stay clear, no matter how weak she was, if her mom was in danger.

He wasn't counting on me, though. Just goes to show, even the brightest vamps still have egos the size of Angel's mansion.

I stopped on the porch and thought about kicking the door in. But if the vamp was expecting a weak Slayer then it was better to oblige him. I took out my stake--Buffy was already clutching hers in a death grip--and reached for the handle. The doorknob turned easily. I followed Buffy into the house, thinking it wouldn't be half as easy to leave this trap. We waited for a moment for whatever was gonna jump out and yell "Boo!"

The place looked empty, and even straining my Slayer hearing there wasn't any noise to give us a clue which way to go. The house might have seemed deserted if it weren't for the prickle on my skin and the ache in my gut. The vamp was here, and he was watching.

She started up the stairs. I'd taken maybe three steps behind her when a hand grabbed my ankle. It yanked my foot out from under me. I slammed forward, but I managed to get my hands under me and save my ribs from bashing into the stair-edges. I'd lost my stake in falling. I kicked out with my free foot and heard a satisfying crunch. The hand let go. I'd broken some fingers at least, if not the wrist. I leaped to my feet. Buffy was standing on the stairs above me, staring wide-eyed.

Buffy snapped out of it and nodded. "Here," she said, and tossed me her stake. It flew wide, but I jumped up on the banister and snatched it out of the air. I used my forward momentum to flip over the vamp's head and land behind him.

He was a big bastard, that was sure, and fast too--he was facing me before I could get a quick kill. This fight wouldn't be the piece of cake that newbie in the alley had been.

I clobbered the vamp with a roundhouse punch as soon as I got near enough. It was like putting my fist through a brick wall, and the bastard wasn't even shaken. He just grinned down at me, looking half-way handsome even with fangs, and said, "I don't think we've been properly introduced."

"Faith, the Vampire Slayer," I said, and as long as he was standing wide open, I went for the kill.

He caught my hand when my stake was an inch from his chest, and squeezed. Shit, that hurt. I tried pulling away, but he had a grip, and wouldn't let go. He grabbed my jacket front with his other hand and lifted me off the floor. I could smell the sour blood of whoever his last meal had been. He reeked this close up. "And I am Kralik," he said. Then he threw me across the room.

I heard something crack, and I hoped it was the wall I hit and not me. I scrambled to my feet. My stake had rolled beneath a chair across the room. Just fucking great. Kralik was still standing beside the stairs, watching me and looking thoughtful.

"Yeah, that's what they all say. But turns out, I'm on the side of good, and that means I'm supposed to win." I dropped into my fighting stance again.

"No," he said, tilting his head and staring at me. "It is not your time. I don't kill you for another two years."

What the hell was he going on about? I circled him a bit, looking for an opening. "Considering I plan to kill you in the next five minutes, I think you're going to have to reschedule," I said.

"Your Watcher's Council has made a mistake," he said, then licked his lips. "But one Cruciamentum or two--I will eat you both."

I stood straighter. "Cruciawhatnow?" It sucked to let him know that he knew more than I did, but if this had something to do with Buffy's strength disappearing, then I'd have to ask first, fight later.

"Ah, you don't know. Of course." He shook his head, distracted for a minute, but I didn't go after him. I needed him to tell me more. Besides, I do learn from my mistakes, much as Buffy would scoff at the idea. He was quick and big and mean, and unless he came after me, I couldn't use that against him. I had to bait him until he charged, and then I could throw him into a couple walls. See how much he liked having the tables turned. That would slow him down some.

"All I know is you did something to Buffy," I said. She was out of sight, but I could hear her upstairs, opening doors and calling for her mom. I hoped like hell she wouldn't find Joyce hurt, or dead. Too much shit happened in her life as it was.

Kralik started laughing. This vamp was seriously messed up in the head. I got around him and picked up my stake. He sounded crazy, and I figured that wasn't too far off the mark.

"What's so funny?" I asked, fed up with not being in on the joke. I'd beat Buffy's cure out of him soon enough. She who stakes vamps always has the last laugh.

"Better to ask your Watcher's Council," he said. "Or Angelus. I understand he used to enjoy the Cruciamentum more than any. They finally had to stop using him--he was too effective!" He grinned again--not a pretty sight--and started towards me. "Now, girly, I'm hungry..."

Good, he was ready to tango. As soon as a vampire let his stomach do the thinking, he was pretty much dead meat. Deader meat. Whatever. He rushed me, just like I'd hoped. I pulled his arm and turned his lunge into a throw, headfirst into the bookcase. It came crashing down on top of him. I grabbed a poker from the fireplace and started whaling on whatever body part was sticking out from under the piles of books. "What the hell are you talking about?" I yelled. "What the fuck is the Cruciathingy?"

He just kept laughing. He heaved the bookcase aside and roared as he stood up. I gave his knee another whack with the poker, then threw it straight at his eyes. He batted it aside with one hand, but I heard another crack. I had four broken fingers on my scoresheet and he hadn't closed with me once.

That changed faster than I could think. He darted forward and caught me in a bearhug, his fangs cold and slippery right next to my neck. I struggled, but he lifted me off the ground where I couldn't get any leverage to throw him again. I pounded my fists against his back, tried to knee him. "Don't worry," he crooned, between chuckles. "I won't take it all. I won't take it all." His tongue licked my neck, cold and wet, and I fucking lost it.

I got my foot up between us and shoved with all the strength in me. I heard his ribs creak, but he held on. He couldn't get near my neck, now, but that wasn't the only place I had blood flowing and he knew it. He dipped his head towards my wrist.

A crossbow bolt flew past his ear and nearly took me straight in the throat. Kralik whipped around, losing his hold on me, and I kicked his feet out from under him before even stopping to see who was playing hero now. I looked up long enough to see Buffy on the landing above, crossbow in hand. There was no time to wonder how long she'd been there.

I threw myself on Kralik from behind, landing with my full weight on his back. If vampires breathed, he would have probably been knocked out. As it was he jumped to his feet and I was riding a bucking bronco. I had to laugh at the absurdity of it. He was straining to get a hold on me, but I had his arm twisted up behind him so he couldn't reach. "Yeah!" I whooped. "Ride 'im, cowgirl!"

Upstairs, Buffy was fumbling with the crossbow, setting another bolt in it. "B, don't worry, I got him!" I said. "Where's your mom?"

"Don't you fucking dare shoot that!" I yelled, digging my knees into Kralik's ribs and twisting his arm higher. She'd missed his heart when he was standing still--there was no way she was going to score a lucky shot with him leaping and screaming his way around the fucking living room. "You'll take someone's eye out! Probably mine!"

"I'll go check the basement," she said. She inched past us, stumbling over the spill of books, and I got Kralik's arm pushed so high that he was leaning over, growling. I jumped off his back and fumbled for my stake again. I hurt, my ribs aching and the hand he'd squeezed telling me it was time to switch to southpaw. I found Buffy's crossbow and aimed it dead center. He was tired enough now that I could risk a shot, as long as I had my stake for backup.

"Now," I said, and it was my turn to smile, "tell me what you know about the Cruciawhositz, or you're going to find yourself with a nasty splinter."

Kralik shook his head. His whole body started twitching. It looked like he was trying to jiggle his brains back in place. "Pills," he said.

"Pills--need my pills!" Kralik searched through his pockets and came out with a plastic bottle of pills. He popped the lid open, not paying any mind to me, so I kicked the bottle right out of his hands. Pills scattered everywhere. Kralik screamed.

Kralik dropped to his knees and gathered up pills with shaking hands. He was moaning. I gave him a swift kick to the head that sent him sprawling. "What is it? What did you do to Buffy?"

He whirled on me, and whatever shred of sanity had been there before was gone now. He burst off the floor and came at me. There was nothing that was going to stop him this time, so I pulled the trigger. Dust swirled around me for a moment. If I had just lost whatever chance we had of figuring out what was wrong with Buffy, then I'd probably be no better off soon enough.

But that couldn't be. He'd said the Watcher's Council knew, and something about how Angel used to be involved.

Probably it was nothing but a pack of lies. If Giles or Angel knew, they woulda cured Buffy before she had so much as a stubbed toe. Shit, none of it made sense. As soon as we had Joyce safely home, I was going straight to the library to get the truth out of Giles, no matter what it took.

I headed for the basement. Buffy was in the furnace room, tugging at the ropes that held Joyce to a chair. One look and I knew everything was gonna be okay. Joyce was shaken up, but not hurt. No bite marks.

"Here," I said. "Let me get this." I yanked on the ropes and they tore easily in my hands. I tried to pass it off like it was no big deal, but Buffy looked hurt anyway. Jeez, it wasn't like I was trying to pity her, but it sort of leaked out anyway. I couldn't imagine giving up my powers, not for a minute. Maybe I'm not the Slayer, the one they all love, but being a Slayer is all that stands between being me being a hero and being nobody. That's why I never understood Buffy's bitching about duty and all that. That is, til I saw that she didn't need to be the Slayer to be a hero. Looking at her now, though, I realized she didn't know that. She watched me get her mom free and thought that meant I was the only hero left here.

But, just like before, I couldn't say any of that. I'm not the type for speeches. I wouldn't know how. Just like all the times I looked at Buffy and didn't tell her stuff. There were lots of things it was easy to say, like, "You looking fuckin' hot tonight, B." But this--all this stuff about being a hero--I'd end up looking like an idiot. I know Buffy wouldn't laugh, not straight at me, but I also knew she'd be joking about it with Red as soon as they got their heads together.

And, besides all that, I was starting to get really pissed off. The more I thought about it, the more this whole Cruciadealy didn't make sense. Any of it. Buffy's power loss, and Kralik going on about the Watcher's Council and Angel. Somebody knew something, and it was time we figured out who was in on it.

Buffy helped Joyce to her feet and we got the hell out of Dodge. One look from Joyce and I surrendered the Jeep's keys. We got back to Buffy's house in good time, and I waited until Joyce had some tea in her hands and a couple of aspirin in her system before I made a duck for the door.

"You are the world's worst liar. You know this, don't you?" She gave me this lopsided grin that is fucking adorable. Melts me every time.

"I'm going to check in with Giles," I said, then. I didn't really want her to know everything--so far, she seemed to be eating the flu story like it's candy--and it would only hurt her worse to know what I suspect. But, hey, they say the truth will set you free. Better she should hear it from the horse's mouth rather than have me edging around what really went down tonight.

Buffy's face darkened. "You're going to ask him about what Kralik said. About the Cruciamentum."

I sighed. There was no way out of this now. "If you're sure," I said, my last-ditch effort.

But I knew her better than that. We walked to the school as fast as Buffy's strength would allow.

The hallways were dark, but the doors were open, and there were lights on in the library. We could hear voices murmuring. I glanced at Buffy. All that fear from before was gone. You could only see the Slayer in her now. The kind of look even the biggest vamp will think twice about, when he meets her in the cemetary in the dead of night.

I pushed the swinging doors open. The first thing I saw was Giles sitting at the table, looking like his best friend had died.

Or he'd just sent someone off to be killed, I thought. I was just about to lay into him with all my questions when an older guy stepped out of Giles' office. He was the kind of guy that makes the worst mall Santa Claus--trying to be all grandfatherly and scaring the kids instead. The tweed suit and the cup of tea in his hand told the rest of the story. This guy was high-up Watcher's Council, or I was no Slayer.

"Congratulations, Miss Summers," he said calmly. "You failed the Cruciamentum and lived to tell about it. You are the first to do so."

"What the hell is the Cruciamentum?" I demanded, stepping in front of Buffy. She and Giles were having some sort of staring contest. Buffy looked like she could hardly stand, like the power drain hadn't stopped at her Slayer strength, but kept right on going until her bones couldn't support her. Giles was grey, his eyes full of tears. He'd only just found out that Buffy had survived that monster, Kralik. Must be a shock. I snorted. Looked like he deserved worse than that.

"I am Quentin Travers," the other guy said. "I don't believe I've made your acquaintance yet, Miss--"

"Stop right there," I said. "My Watcher told me about you. And I don't think I need to know any more. I think you'd better start telling me what I want to know, or I'll show you more about Slayers than the whole Council knows."

Travers gave me a little unfriendly smile. "The Cruciamentum is a test administered to all Slayers when--" He paused and raised an eyebrow at me. "--or, perhaps I should say, if they reach their eighteenth birthday. They are stripped of their powers and locked into a controlled space with a vampire. It is a test of ingenuity and original thinking. And Miss Summers has failed it abysmally."

"What, because I helped her dust that vamp?" I asked. "How controlled is your fucking test when the vampire escapes?"

Buffy gasped behind me, like she couldn't breathe. I wanted to go to her, hold her up, and help her. But look where helping got us the last time. Besides, there was no way I was backing down in front of that slimeball Travers. But he walked right past me like I was nothing and went to Buffy.

That was an understatement and a half. Tears of rage were running down Buffy's face, and I saw her make a fist when Travers got close. She woulda knocked him a good one if she had her strength, I could tell.

"You understand nothing," she said. Her voice was wavering, but angry as hell. "You set that monster loose, and he came after my mother."

"You think the test was unfair?" Travers said, like he was asking about the weather.

"I think you better leave town before I get my strength back," Buffy shot back at him.

Travers just raised an eyebrow. "We're not in the business of fair, Miss Summers, we're fighting a war."

God, what a bastard. "And you're trying to kill the people who fight on your side," I snarled. "Now get the hell out of our town!"

"There is one last thing." Travers turned to the table. "Mr. Giles, if you don't mind..."

Giles looked up from where he had his hand over his eyes. "The test is done. We're finished."

"The Slayer is not the only one who must perform in this situation. You did your part. I've recommended to the Council, and they've agreed, that your responsibilities are now to the second Slayer. Miss Summers is no longer in our employ. You must concentrate your efforts on..." Again he glanced at me. "...the other one. I'd say it is sorely needed."

Giles stood up. He towered over Travers, but still the bastard managed to look smug. Giles pushed his chair back from the table. "I will not stop training Buffy."

Travers smiled. "I don't suppose we could enforce the decision. But what you must ask yourself, Mr. Giles, is if she'll allow it." He smiled. "Congratulations again."

I glared at him as he passed by me, and he gave this little sniff, like I was worse than beneath his notice. That was all it took. I lunged at his retreating back, about to smack that smug smile off his face.

Buffy's hand on my arm stopped me. There was no way she coulda restrained me, not then, but as soon as I felt her touch I pulled myself back.

Travers chuckled again, not even turning around. "Yes, well, colorful girl," he said, and then he was gone.

Buffy turned on Giles the moment Travers was out of the room. I didn't know what to expect. Tears were still pouring down her face, but she wasn't sobbing or crying really, and somehow that made it worse. Like she hurt so bad she couldn't even make a sound. Giles stared back at her. God, he was so still. He kinda opened his arms and stepped away from the table, but he didn't try to get near Buffy. He was making himself a target. He knew he deserved anything she cared to dish out.

There was so much tension in the air between them, I felt like I was only in the way. Giles always seemed like an okay guy, but there's no way he could ever replace my Watcher, and I think he knew that. He never tried to get too buddy-buddy with me, and I was fine with that. But at least I respected him. I knew he was doing right by Buffy.

Parents--most parents, not mine, but real parents--like Joyce, for instance--they're always saying that when their kids mess up, they don't get angry. They say, in this really serious voice, that they're mainly disappointed. And that's how felt about Giles right then. I was plenty angry, but I could even swear at him or throw things or punch him a couple of times to get it out of my system. This huge empty sadness stared just under my ribs and stayed there like a stone. You just can't see how awful it made me feel--how let down I was. I thought Giles was decent. Maybe the only Council guy, apart from my Watcher, who was. But you can't simply get over a thing like this, a betrayal. Fuck, it's everything to a hero, that trust. You rely on the good guys and you smash up the bad guys, it's that simple. Now everything was messed up in my head, and I wasn't even the one Giles had hurt the most.

When Buffy didn't say anything at first, Giles silently turned and opened the briefcase that was sitting on the table. He pulled out this little case and opened it, too. Inside was a cloth wrapped around a syringe and a vial of some thick liquid. Giles placed it on the table like a lawyer revealing the smoking gun.

"It's an organic compound," he said. His voice was shaky, uncertain. Not like himself at all. "Muscle relaxants, and adrenal suppressors. The effect is temporary." He paused, then added, kind of hopelessly, "You'll be yourself again in a few days."

Even after everything, I thought Buffy had this idea that somehow Giles wasn't involved. She took a step forward and touched the little tube, as if to prove to herself that yes, this was real, this was really happening. "You?" she whispered.

"In matters of tradition and protocol, I must answer to the Council." Giles gave a little shake of his head. I don't know what he was thinking. That he should have defied the Council? That this wasn't his fault because he was just following orders? That no matter what, this had to work out--that Buffy would eventually forgive him?

Fuck, you know I don't ever want to understand how it feels to betray someone you love. I'd rather die than see that empty, disbelieving look of Buffy's turned on me. I think it'd break me, to hurt her that bad.

I drifted closer to her and stroked my hand down her back. I don't know why. Just to show her I was there, I was on her side, I guess. I could feel her trembling. She shrugged away from my hand, grabbed the syringe, and threw it at Giles' head.

She missed by a mile. It shattered against the wall to his left. "You bastard," she said. Her voice was broken, but she held back the tears. "All this time, you saw what it was doing to me. All this time, and you didn't say a word!"

"Liar," she said. If he'd wanted to, he could have said something, she meant. She'd been getting weaker for days. He had his chance.

"My role in this was very specific," Giles said. He sounded exhausted, worn out. Like he'd been fighting for far too long and it wasn't over before every last detail was sitting between them, in the open. "I was to administer the injections, and--"

"Fuck, Giles, we know what you did," I burst out. "Don't think you can make it better by admitting it now! She trusted you. Shit, I trusted you. God!" I couldn't even talk. I didn't have the words to show Giles how much he'd fucked up. I wanted to break something, to shatter the furniture, destroy the library. Anything to hurt him back the way he'd hurt Buffy. But Buffy reached out and caught my hand. This time I was the one shaking and she was still. Her eyes were red and swollen from crying, and there was a cut on her forehead I hadn't even noticed in all the fuss. She was pale and her grip was so light it scared me. But she was in control again. She held me back, for the second time. She was the only one who could have. I only coulda been this upset for her.

That was too much. "If you touch her," I said, slow and shaky and careful, "I will kill you."

Giles looked at me for what seemed like the first time since we'd walked in here. There was pain in his eyes, and regret, sure, but not enough. Not near enough. "Faith, you have to understand--"

"I understand you're not getting anywhere near me on my eighteenth birthday," I said. "I understand you'd better stay the hell away from both of us."

"You stuck a needle in me." Buffy's voice was low, but deadly. "You poisoned me."

Those words hit Giles harder than any full-strength Slayer punch could have. Still, he tried one last time. "You're safe now--"

"No thanks to you." Buffy tensed beside me, the way she did before a fight. "I want you to leave."

"Now." Buffy looked him straight in the eye. She was strung tight as a crossbow string, all her control directed at keeping her voice steady. "Get out."

Finally, Giles nodded. "Just...don't walk home alone, Buffy. Please. Take Faith with you, to keep you safe."

Buffy was still holding my hand, and all of a sudden I didn't know what to do. There was no way in hell I was leaving her, but she couldn't be feeling that friendly towards me right now either. She never liked how fast I got to know the Scoobs and her mom. She thought I was taking over her life. Now it was true, sort of. I was the Slayer, at least as far as the Council was concerned. I got the Watcher and the training. I got to be the hero.

They say be careful what you wish for. Ever notice how they only say it when it's too late to take it back?

For once I was glad that Buffy wasn't saying anything. I couldn't have said anything myself right then to save my life. I squeezed her hand and pulled her to the table, and sort of pushed her down into a chair. She watched me with those wide green eyes of hers, looking like a five-year-old who's been told there's no Easter Bunny. Disbelief and disappointment and the kind of sadness you can't ever forget. I didn't even want to let go of her for the two minutes it took to get the first aid kit.

I got out some antiseptic and mixed it with warm water in a bowl, then dipped a cloth into it. Buffy kept her eyes on me, so I was glad to have something to do, somewhere to look. I couldn't meet her gaze. It's like for the first time she was seeing more of me than I was willing to show. For the first time she was really looking at me, and not at that hungry-horny Slayer I play at being most of the time.

I crouched in front of her, balancing myself with one hand on her knee. I brushed her loose hair off her forehead. The cut wasn't nasty or deep, and the bleeding had mostly stopped. It was the sort of thing that would heal on its own in an hour or two, usually. But Buffy's healing was down along with her strength. I wrung out the cloth and dabbed at the cut. Buffy winced, but didn't pull away. I tried to be business-like about it. But the way she was looking at me...

I cleaned the cut, and put the cloth back in the bowl. I couldn't help but stroke her hair again, for no good reason but I wanted to touch her. I'm lucky to even hold her hand sometimes while we dance, or get a high-five when we slay. My training would be for shit if I ever let myself think about how much our bodies brushed together as we struggled on the mats. So I push it out of my mind, the way I do with pain when I'm fighting. Don't acknowledge it and it isn't there.

The library was incredibly quiet. The lights were dim, and none of the overheads were on. And I couldn't move. Buffy caught me with her eyes and kept me there, looking up at her, one hand on her knee and the other reaching up to stroke through her hair. I could smell sweat and alleydust and blood on her, and the fading sourness of her fear and anger. She moved, at last, and I thought the moment was ending. Instead, she blinked, and tears slipped down her cheeks again. It felt like slow motion as she crumpled forward, into my arms. She buried her face on my shoulder, sliding down to kneel in front of me, holding me as tight as she could. I hugged her back, careful of her weakness. She was so warm, her breath and tears hot against my neck, and finally she was crying for real, sobbing into my jean jacket. I rubbed slow circles on her back and let her cry. I felt every inch of her pressed up to me, and for once my mind wasn't in the gutter.

I don't know how long we sat there, wrapped in each other, but at last Buffy had cried herself out. She kept holding on to me. It was like she didn't know how to let go. I turned my face into her hair, breathing as deep as I could of her scent. I knew this couldn't last. If there's one thing I've learned in my life, it's that closeness never does.

"Faith," Buffy whispered, into my shoulder. Knowing it didn't take much to reach Slayer hearing.

I coulda asked, for what? I coulda been cynical, thinking she's grateful that she's not the Council's toy anymore, that Slaying's my duty now, not hers.

But I knew she meant it better than that. Thank you for saving my life. Thank you for saving my mom. Thank you for being on my side.

"You know I got your back," I said. It was the closest I could come to saying what I felt.

She pulled back a bit from my shoulder, but she kept her arms around me. I lifted a hand and thumbed away her tears. I don't know what was getting into me, how much I was touching her, but she actually turned her face towards my hand until I was cupping her cheek. I thought about all those times on the dance floor, how I'd though she'd wanted to get closer, if only her little Scooby pals weren't watching. How she'd flirt right back at me when we were patrolling, and no one had to know but me. Maybe this was like that--she would let me comfort her as long as we were alone. She wanted me, but only if she didn't have to tell the world.

I'm sure my face went red at that. She caught me being serious. I was too worried about her to be thinking about nicknames today. "I do remember your name," I said.

"Only when it's important, though." Her smile was growing. Hell if I knew why. It was a ridiculous conversation to be having when we were still holding each other on the library floor, so close together that it would have been easy to kiss her.

But that thought was too dangerous and I pushed it away. "Maybe I should get you home," I said. I didn't make any move to get up, though.

She looked upset again, frowning. "It's about the Cruciamentum. Something that Kralik said."

"He said something about Angelus--that the Council used to use him as the vampire for the test."

"Yeah." I could see where this was going. If Angel knew about the Cruciamentum and didn't tell Buffy, that was just as much a betrayal as Giles'. He probably didn't want to go around advertising how many helpless Slayers he'd killed. Love poetry was a much safer birthday surprise than that little piece of history. Obviously having a soul didn't stop him from hurting the person he said he loved, or from lying to her. I wished I could dust him for it--

She musta seen what I thought on my face. "I just want to talk with him," she said. "I need you to come with me, that's all. I'm un-Slayer Buffy right now."

I didn't know if that was better or worse. Listening to their lovers' quarrel wasn't the way I'd planned to spend my evening. But I'd promised, and if I didn't go with her she just might slip out and go see him alone, power drain or not. "Okay," I said. This time I got to my feet, and helped Buffy up. Her knee was still bothering her, but not as bad as a couple of hours ago. So the Slayer healing wasn't gone, just delayed. That was a relief, anyway.

She didn't say anything. She seemed serious, though, so I stopped and leaned back against a locker. The halls were dark, but I could see her fine. And if her hearing was still working, then I figured her eyesight was as good as mine. I wondered what she saw.

She smiled, and I realized I'd used her full name again. There's so much it's too hard to say, but it's easy just to call her Buffy and let that stand in for everything I'm never gonna tell her. Because she doesn't want to hear it. I know that. I know it.

Buffy stepped towards me, and I would have backed up, but I was pressed against the locker. There was no way she was doing what I thought she was doing.

Buffy leaned forward, watching my eyes the whole time, and touched her lips against mine. And hell, you know I didn't stop her. I've never felt anything softer. Buffy's kiss went through my whole body like I was suddenly on fire, like a vamp in sunlight. I know I made some sound, but I couldn't hear it for the blood pounding in my ears. I sagged against the locker and forced myself not to grab her, hold her, because then she'd never get away. I closed my eyes and just felt her mouth move against mine. It was over so fast at first I didn't even want to believe it had happened. Better to keep my distance and my cool.

But there was no distance left between us. Buffy smiled at me, her eyes shining, her hand still clasping mine. "Sometimes thank you isn't enough," she said.

I swallowed, licked my lips, and finally nodded. Maybe the hero business isn't so bad after all.

It's fucking crazy, how confused I was, going with Buffy hand-in-hand to Angel's place. I kept wanting to shout out "I told you so!" to the whole world. She wanted me. She kissed me. I knew the whole time it wasn't just in my head. Maybe I'm not the smartest person on the face of the Earth, but even I don't just keep smashing my head against a brick wall for the fun of it. All those times I flirted with Buffy, it's 'cause I knew she liked it. On some level, she wanted me just as bad as I wanted her.

So, okay, I save her ass, not once but maybe three times by my count--and her mom's too, besides--and then in the middle of the school she just steps up and plants one on me like it's no big deal? Well, if I'd known that's all it took I woulda been rescuing her every chance I got, from day one onwards. But of course with Buffy it can't be that simple. No way. I figured I knew what came next. She'd get freaked and deny it ever happened and if I opened my big mouth about it then she'd close it again quick with a punch to the jaw.

But she's still holding my hand like we're girlfriends or something, getting all sappy with each other. While we're on our way to Angel's mansion to ream him out about what maybe he knew or didn't know about the Cruciamentum. On top of that, I'm the only Slayer here right now so she's expecting me to keep an eye out for vamps after all this stuff she just dumped on me. Fucking head trip. Look out for nasties? Hardly. I'm thinking more along the lines of doin' the nasty, maybe right here in this graveyard we're passing through as a short cut, because the thought that I'm the strong one here still hasn't left my mind, and if I hauled her into one of these tombs--

I should be getting mad at Angel. What a fucking coward. He’d rather do nothing and hope for the best than tell Buffy that she's about go out and get herself killed. Hope she didn't die, and hope she didn't find out. He was no better than Giles, locking her in with a hungry vamp. Worse, because Angel lied to protect himself, not even out of some stupid sense of *duty*.

I looked down at our hands and immediately let go. "Jeez, I'm sorry." The last thing I'd wanted was to hurt her. Giles had said she'd be back to her old self in a few days, but talk about rubbing her face in it in the meantime. I hadn't even been thinking about it, which made it worse. "Sorry," I muttered again, and stuffed my hands in my pockets.

I think maybe I mentioned how adorable Buffy is when she blushes. She has this smile that's flustered and inviting all at once, and it's like she's embarrassed to meet your eye but she can't help looking at you anyway, 'cause you're the only thing in her world right then. I swear, I get wet just from having that smile turned on me. I know she's imagining doing every dirty thing she'd never admit to wanting, and I'm the star attraction in her fantasy.

And all the times before, I woulda just ignored how she's making my heart pound, and probably let her off the hook with the kind of lusty glance that'd tell her I'm thinking all the same things, only doubled. But tonight was different. Tonight, I was the hero.

I was kissing her before she knew I was going to, and this time there was no backing off. I lifted my hands to cup her face--softly, 'cause I was still able to think that much--and I kept her close to me. I sucked on her bottom lip until she opened her mouth and I tasted her for the first time.

I've never been lost in a kiss. I never forget where I am and why I'm letting whoever it is get a piece of me. But with Buffy, I stopped caring about any of that. I wasn't in control and I didn't care because neither was she. We both disappeared into the feeling of it. I wasn't thinking. I was just living in the warmth of her mouth, the way her tongue sliding against mine washed through my whole body. I kissed her like it was new to me, like I wanted to find out just how to move to make my body start singing.

I pulled back when I heard Buffy whimper. Her eyes were dark and she was panting like she'd run a marathon without her Slayer strength, and her hands were about a quarter inch away from groping my ass. I slipped my arms around her waist, and we stood there for a minute, looking into each other's eyes. Fuck, I'll tell you, that kiss was better than most sex I've had, and I was dying inside knowing that it was probably about as close as I was gonna get any time soon.

"So what was that for?" she asked, finally, again with that smile that I just wanted to kiss away.

"Um...you're welcome?" I tried half-heartedly. I was afraid the real reason was that I wanted her to remember me when she was talking to Angel, but that sounded too desperate even in my head. It sort of occurred to me then that we were swaying back and forth, and her thigh was slowly but surely nudging between mine, and if we didn't let go soon then I wasn't going to be able to. That tiny amount of friction felt like Buffy was taking a sledgehammer to my self-control. I was still gasping for air like a landed fish. "I, uh, I guess we've got to go..."

"Mmm-hmm." Buffy was staring at my lips. "Faith, you are going to take me home afterwards, aren't you? Giles is right, it wouldn't be safe for me to go alone..."

I'd gotten plenty of invitations in my time, but I'd never expected to hear one from Buffy. "Yeah," I said, like I was promising a lot more than to keep the vamps off her until we got to her place. In my mind, I was.

But this time, she linked her arm through mine and leaned against my shoulder as we walked.

Angel looked up when Buffy pushed through the drapes and I followed her into the living room. I think I saw everything on his face right then. But he went blank so fast I didn't know if it was guilty relief or just surprise I saw. He set down the book he was reading and stood up.

I gave him a quick, sarcastic smile, and wondered if he could smell how worked up we'd gotten each other before we'd arrived. I know I could. It was mixed up in sweat and blood and vamp dust, the smell of fighting, and it wasn't doing anything to calm me down. I forced myself not to react when Buffy left my side and took a few steps towards Angel. But you know I wanted to. There's nothing that makes me more invisible than Buffy looking at Angel.

"Did you know?" Buffy spoke simply, quietly, and I knew she wasn't going to let their soap-opera soulmate thing stand in the way of her getting the answers she wanted. I shoulda remembered she killed him when she needed to. She's a Slayer to the core that way. Even heroes need to have steel inside 'em, sometimes.

"You could never be helpless," Angel said. At least he wasn't trying to pretend he didn't know what she was talking about. "Not even if you tried. I knew you'd pass."

I rolled my eyes at him behind Buffy's back. I don't know what he thought that had to do with Buffy's Cruciamentum, and apparently neither did Buffy, because she only stared at him coldly.

"I watched you, and I saw you called." Angel stepped around the couch and moved across the room to her. I crossed my arms and glared daggers at him. "It was a bright afternoon in font of your school. You walked down the steps...and I loved you."

"Not even to save my life." Buffy took a step back, neatly avoiding him. "How many Cruciamentums have you seen, Angel? You knew what the risks were, didn't you?"

There was pain on Angel's face now. He musta seen it was hopeless. "I thought you didn't want to hear about Angelus. When I told you about Drusilla--"

"You were trying to warn me away from you. Well, guess what, Angel? I think I'm finally ready to listen." Buffy took the book of poetry he'd given her out of her coat and tossed it to him. He caught it on instinct. "What did you think, that telling me you were some sort of creepy stalker guy when I was *fifteen* would make me forget how you didn't say a word when my life was in danger?" She shook her head. "I'm leaving."

She whirled around and headed for me. When we got to the door, she took my hand. She paused, then turned around again. "And, Angel?" she said. "I didn't pass. Faith saved me."

I could hardly believe that Buffy had dumped Angel. Even more, she'd all but told him that I was the reason why. It felt amazing, to be chosen like that. I thought of the day I was Called--the day I started being able to save myself. It was a thousand times better to save someone else, and to see the gratitude and love in her eyes when she looks at you.

Love can be a scary thing, when you see it like that. I was pretty freaked when I recognized it in Buffy's eyes, after we left Angel. This was more than thank you, more than a couple of kisses she could call experimenting if she wanted to forget 'em, more than me dusting a few vamps for her when she was off her game. This meant something real.

I was finally starting to get that what I felt for Buffy was more than just my normal hornies. Tonight maybe I'd saved her life, but that wasn't so unusual. We'd saved each other more times than I could count. A hungry vampire faster than a stake, a demon's claws stronger than a sword stroke--every time, you think you've bought yourself one of Sunnydale's many fine six-foot-square pieces of real estate, and then there's someone standing between you and dying. No, it wasn't saving Buffy's life that made a difference. The hero bit can't stop when the slaying's done. Buffy taught me that, but it was only tonight I figured it out completely. Holding her, and backing her up--being there, mostly--that's what made me a hero in her eyes.

It's not because Buffy lost her strength that she needed a hero, either. It's because everyone turned on her, making her see she had nothing where she thought she had friends. And I was read to show her I was more than just a slaying partner. I wasn't going to run off on her when she needed me.

That was the freakiest part of all. I wasn't thinking about running. I was thinking about what would happen when we got to Buffy's place, and I was thinking about waking up tomorrow with things between us being maybe different, but maybe better. I was even trying to come up with a few lines for Joyce in case she was wondering why I'd stayed over.

We were heading to her house, and I was almost sorry Buffy's knee had healed enough that I didn't need to carry her. I coulda enjoyed it more this time, knowing I wasn't the only one getting off on it. But it didn't really matter, because after a few steps Buffy was walking so close to me that putting my arm around her waist seemed like the thing to do. Protective, sure, but so much more. Before tonight, the only place we woulda touched this much was on the training floor. Even then we were more often scrambling to get away from each other, and I figure that was 'cause of what we both felt when we fell on top of each other.

And I was sure as hell feeling it now. My body was humming the way train tracks do before a freighter goes by. It was the sort of energy I'd normally use up on the dance floor, and later in the graveyard. The sort of energy Buffy denied she ever had. I wasn't going to let her deny it tonight. I didn't give her any space climbing up her front porch steps. I stopped her when she started to unlock the door, trapping her against the wall. I put one hand over hers on the handle, the other on the wall next to her head, and leaned in. Not touching but my body so close to hers it made no difference. Buffy looked up at me, and I could see her trying to control her breathing. Her eyes gave it away, though. They were dark and deep and fucking gorgeous. I wanted to fall right in. Took everything I had not to melt into her and kiss her like I did in the graveyard, and never let her go.

But I can't just be soppy-sweet. That's not me, never has been, and I'm not gonna start changing--not even for Buffy Summers. There's danger here, for both of us, me knowing I could have her any five ways from Sunday if I forced her, her knowing I could be nothing but a rebound fling, both of us scared shitless of what it might mean if we let it. Who's gonna be the hero now, huh? Who's gonna do the right thing, the right way?

"You gonna invite me in?" I asked, letting my husky whisper touch her where my body wasn't--yet. Smoking's too long-term to kill a Slayer, but the side benefit is a voice as sexy as fuck.

"Are you a vampire all of a sudden, to need one?" Buffy asked back, and damn, if she didn't have better control over her voice than I woulda given her credit for. She tilted her head back, nothing but challenge in her eyes now, a question for a question. She's the Slayer. She doesn't give.

She's a Slayer. And I am on top tonight, I am the saviour, the rescuer, the protector. If she thinks one kiss is thank you enough, she's gonna learn different now. I grinned, and did like my body wanted--I leaned in. Sweet fuck, but it was good. A night's slaying, a few kisses to rev me up, and Buffy's body under mine, pressed against her front door. I swear she fit me closer than my leather pants usually do. Buffy gasped, her eyes going half-lidded, and she squirmed--not to get away, but just to see how much we could slide together while we were still wearing all our clothes and we were out where the whole neighborhood could see us if they only had half a mind to watch. It'd be a show better than cable, I'll tell you that. I almost laughed at the thought, but it came out breathless, short, and then I sorta groaned and leaned in even more, dropping my head to kiss her neck.

I let my lips trace over her skin, scraping my teeth across her neck until her whole body surged against mine. I licked away the salty taste of sweat, nipping and nudging, showing her what I'd do when I had more than just her throat to work on. Buffy's breath was harsh in my ear, and she threw her head back so I could reach more and more skin. And still it was just my hands pressing flat to the door behind her, and her just standing there, not reaching for me or stroking me. No hands. No holding. 'Cause you know I wasn't going to force anything that wasn't coming my way. I let her feel the length of me, from collarbone to knee, and I tongued her neck, tasting that smooth skin. I could sense Buffy's body getting tighter and tenser as she fought not to make a sound. Not a whimper, not a moan. Finally I stopped and lifted my head a fraction, enough to breathe into her ear. "Invite me in."

"Took a sleeping pill, which I handed to her, so don't give me that." I started to pull away. Show her what she's missing. Maybe a week out of town didn't get her longing for my company, but that was before tonight.

I was an inch away from her when her hands came up, dug into my hair, and pulled me back. Buffy yanked my mouth to hers, her tongue eager, darting out to meet mine. There was as much force in this kiss as she could muster, her fingers tangling in my hair to keep me still. This time she was the one leading and I was happy to follow, sinking back down into her. God, I swear, Buffy is hotter than hell. I'd gotten burned my share of times, but now, it was like getting close to a campfire on a cold night. I relaxed and let her explore my mouth, showing her what I liked, nibbling on her lips when she backed off, sucking on her tongue when she dove in for more. And still I kept my hands flat on the door behind her, behaving. Not pushing, but not giving her everything she wanted, either.

Buffy was pushing back against me, now, looking for more contact, moaning into my mouth, "Please...touch me..."

I was dying to show her everything my hands could do, and my brain was slowly going off-line as I let the storm in my body take over. But there's another lesson from Buffy the Slayer. Heroes have standards. Heroes don't settle. "Invite me in," I said again, harsher this time, not even bothering to let her mouth escape. I went back in for more, kissing her for all I was worth, and I was worth a hell of a lot, tonight.

"Yeah...Faith..." Buffy let go of me with one hand to find the door handle again. "Come in."

We were inside before I knew what was happening. Only my Slayer-quick reaction saved the door from crashing against the wall and waking Joyce up, sleeping pill or no sleeping pill. I got it closed again and locked it, with no help from Buffy. She was holding me so hard I was half-hoping that power-drain junk was leaving her system. I was on fire, burning so bad I was giving up any thoughts of going slow. We were still going at it, hot and heavy, and now I had Buffy pinned on the other side of the door. I was out of breath and so wrapped up in her I didn't want to move. At least we were inside, technically safe. Getting to Buffy's bedroom was going to be another job altogether.

Buffy was kissing along my jaw now, and all my senses were focused on the trailing warm wetness of her mouth. God, I wanted her so bad. I was aching to get my hands on her. The feel of her mouth was driving me crazy. "Buffy--" I gasped.

"Yeah," she muttered, still paying more attention to kissing me than to listening to me. Not that I was complaining, mind you.

She was quick to do what I asked, jumping up a bit and locking her ankles behind my back, just above my ass. I braced myself, not against her weight, which was easy to manage, but against the incredible feel of her pussy grinding into mine. Jesus Christ, but I could practically feel the heat of her through our pants, and you know I could smell her. I breathed it in like some kind of perfume, getting more turned on with every second.

The sound of her voice was the sweetest thing I'd ever heard. "Are you wet for me, baby?" I asked, trying not to sound too smug. As if I didn't know the answer to that one already.

Buffy blushed, her whole face flushing pink. "Yes..." she whispered, almost a hiss. Hearing her admit it made me swallow, hard. There was no way I'd expected to get this far with her tonight. Hail the conquering hero...oh, yeah. Her hips moved against mine, and I had to stop where I was and just breathe for a minute before I got my control back.

I lifted my face to kiss her again. It was different with her being above me, but still amazing. I loved having her in my arms, supporting her, letting her hands trace my face and sink into my hair. Her tongue was exploring over my teeth, pushing against the soft flesh at the top of my mouth. I rubbed my hands over her ass, massaging and squeezing, every now and then cupping her hard against me. I slid my fingers lower, between her legs, stroking the seam of her jeans. The feel of her dampness and heat made my clit throb where we were pressed together. I started moving my fingers back and forth, hard enough that Buffy would feel it, light enough to be frustrating. "When I was carrying you before, this was all I could think about," I admitted, mumbling the words into her mouth.

"What?" I laughed a bit, but it turned into a groan. She was wriggling in my arms, trying to get more friction, and it only reminded me that we still had way too many clothes on. That, and we were still downstairs. "Thinking about you? Hot for you?"

"Hmm--yes." Buffy suddenly sat back in my arms, straining, and the sudden movement jarred our crotches together again. Pleasure washed over me, so hard I nearly dropped her.

"Oh, and we can't have that...very undignified..." Buffy smiled and leaned forward again, capturing my lips.

"No, bad for leather." I didn't mention how they probably already needed a trip to the dry cleaners. Instead, I kissed her back, and finally got it into my head that the reason we were still standing down here was that I hadn't gotten us upstairs. I tightened my hold on her and turned around, heading for the steps. Superpowers are meant for saving the world, but I'm not against using 'em for my own ends. Carrying Buffy, balancing her, sensing the route without tripping over anything, and listening to make sure Joyce wasn't playing watchdog at the top of the stairs were all very important things. No regular human could have done them all at once--especially not while still in the middle of one very hot kiss, and not really thinking about things like breathing and watching where they were going.

Finally, we were in Buffy's room, all shadowed and moonlit. The dark didn't bother me--I could still see Buffy fine, looking incredibly beautiful with her eyes all dark and her lips warm and moist with kisses. Now that we were here, I didn't want to put her down, but the damn clothes were still in my way. Buffy seemed to have the same idea, 'cause she leaned back again, trusting me to hold her, and pulled off her shirt in one smooth motion, dropping it somewhere out of sight. My breath caught in my throat as I stared at her, her nipples tight and straining against the lace of her bra, her chest and stomach sheened with sweat. Then needing oxygen caught up with me and I was panting hard. My breath raised goosebumps when I leaned in to taste her. I mouthed my way over her collarbones, lifting her higher and sliding my tongue under the harsh edge of the bra's fabric.

Buffy's hands slipped into my hair and hesitantly guided me to where she wanted my mouth. I smiled, hearing her nearly incomprehensible mutter of, "Please." I lowered my head and sucked my way across her right breast. I licked her nipple through the lace, listening to Buffy's whimpers, her hands tightening their hold, pressing me more firmly to her chest. I sucked harder, feeling the texture of skin and lace against my tongue. Buffy's breathing was light and quick, and she could hardly keep still. She moaned when I moved back, then again when I caught her other breast in my mouth. I started walking forward again, stopping when I felt the bed against my knees. I couldn't remember how long I'd been holding Buffy up, and I wasn't tired yet, but there were so many things I couldn't reach with her in my arms.

I let her slide down. Buffy paused only long enough to get rid of the bra, then she lay back on the bed, looking up at me with a lazy smile. Her skin was flushed, her nipples pale pink and so hard I wanted them back in my mouth. I could feel my heartbeat pounding through my body, each pulse like a tiny orgasm, my clit protesting that Buffy wasn't pressed against it anymore.

"Faith..." Buffy's lips quirked, but it was her gaze that caught me and held me there. There was such trust in her eyes it scared me, but there was passion, too, and I knew there was no turning back now. Fuck, I wanted her, and not as just some notch in my bedpost, but because she was the reason I kept coming back to Sunnydale. "Take it off."

There was no saying no to her. That confidence of hers is pure Slayer. I ripped off my jacket and yanked off my tank top, losing my bra a second later. I grinned down at Buffy, amused by the appreciative hum in her throat, almost a purr. She reached up and pulled me down on top of her by the front of my pants. "You like?" I asked. Her skin was hot as an oven against mine. Her muscles were tight and quivering underneath me as I straddled her, slippery where we were both sweating. I settled my weight on her a little bit, so that she would really feel it when I slipped my fingers between us to undo her fly. "This good?"

I only woulda asked for her. Anyone else I had in my bed--or theirs--woulda been there to get me off and relax me a bit, to scratch that slaying itch. Not Buffy. I cupped her over her panties, the jeans open between us, and I wanted to melt into the hot liquid I felt there. Not 'til she gave the okay, though. I was here 'cause I was the hero, and heroes do things right.

"Yes, God, please Faith." Buffy said it, staring into my eyes, maybe knowing what I was waiting for. "Please...touch me."

"I'm gonna do better than that, baby," I said. I pressed a little closer, my index finger slipping inside that last barrier. Sweet fuck, but she was swollen and hot, and she nearly bucked up into my slightest touch. "I'm gonna show you it can be so good, okay? It's gonna be good for you."

Before she could answer, I lay down, half on top of her, half beside, and found her mouth with mine again. I knew better than anyone that first times, even with the soulfullest vampire around, aren't exactly comfortable. And I also knew a first time was all she'd ever had. This time was gonna be better. This time I was gonna save her from everything Angel stood for, when this happened before.

I deepened the kiss, focusing on how soft her lips were, how easy it was to fall into wanting her all over again. It was the strangest feeling--I was all wound up tight, my body throbbing, and every touch was like electricity was running through me. But none of that mattered, 'cause I was concentrating on Buffy's lips, on the quiet, pleading sounds she was making, the way she wiggled against my hands to help me shove off her jeans. She was eager to lend a hand at getting my pants off, too, her fumbling fingers every once in a while finding my clit.

"Shit, Buffy," I gasped, bringing my hands up her body. There was nothing left between us now and I was dying at the feel of her. Her stomach was taut under my hands, and I cupped her breasts, working her nipples between my fingers.

Buffy's hips jerked in time, the vibration of her moans sinking into my mouth. "That's, yes, that's good...oh, my God, you're incredible."

I never figured I'd come from words alone, but that nearly sent me flying right there. Incredible, yeah, that's me. Fucking amazing. And this was so good, and I was never gonna let her go. I groaned into her mouth. I started working my way downwards, pausing wherever I could tell it felt good. Buffy's hands were wandering now, too, following my actions, and when she squeezed my breasts I couldn't help but squirm into her touch.

"That's it, baby, right there..." I sucked on her neck, just at the sweet spot where it met her shoulders, flicking my tongue against her pulse. "Here..." I sat up a bit, moving her hands to where I wanted them. I held her fingers over my nipples, helping her to rub 'em. They were hard and shooting pleasure through my whole body, and my pussy was soaking. I knew Buffy could feel it against her thigh, like I could feel hers where my knee was wedged between her legs. "Go ahead, pinch 'em, you're not going to hurt anything--oh, fuck, yeah, yeah--"

Buffy licked her lips, watching what she was doing. She was pressing upwards, looking for me to get down to the real action. I let more of my weight rest on my knee, shoving against her pubis. Her eyes went wide and suddenly she went crazy, ramming her pussy up into my knee, writhing on the bed. "Faith...ah...Faith!"

It was the hottest thing I'd ever seen, watching her come for me. I kissed her again, just to taste my name on her lips. Buffy relaxed back after a minute. "I've never..." She flushed an even deeper red, the blush coming up all the way from her chest. "I mean, not like that."

I grinned. "You think that's it?" I started tracing my fingers down to the trimmed curls between her legs. My knee was slippery with her juices, and I shifted it out of the way.

"Liar," I told her. I found her clit with my thumb, and pressed down just a bit. Buffy jumped under my touch. "See...I'm just getting started..." I started rubbing tight small circles around her center, dipping down to coat my fingers in her come and spreading it around. Her folds were hot and puffy, sliding so perfect against me. I swear I never touched anything softer.

"Okay, this is so--uh--not...fair..." Buffy let her head fall back. "You didn't say you could--" She bit her lip, her eyes squeezed shut. "...do that--"

"Hmm, you mean we coulda been here sooner?" I murmured. "I thought I'd advertised pretty well." I eased one finger inside her. Fuck, she was tight, her muscles shuddering around me. I flicked her clit again, feeling it harden under my touch. I started fucking her, slow at first, listening to the wet clicking sounds of her cunt around my finger. I wanted to taste her, but not yet. I was gonna exhaust her, both of us, and I was gonna still be good tomorrow.

"Faith." Buffy's voice was shaky, giving up completely to what I was doing. "Faith, yes, don't stop..."

"Not gonna," I said. I was starting to feel shaky myself, my pussy aching for her. I lowered myself down to rub against her leg, matching the way I was fucking her. Christ, it was sweet, the angle hitting me just right. I sped up my motion, swaying above her, my finger buried so fucking deep inside her. "Oh, yeah, Buffy...fucking amazing..." I was close, pleasure knifing through me. Just a little more and I'd be there. "Oh, shit, yeah..."

I worked Buffy's clit harder, curling my finger inside her, searching for her g-spot. Buffy spread her legs, letting me get deeper, angling her thigh up so that it pressed into me just right. My breath exploded out, and just then I moved my fingers just right and Buffy was a wild thing under me. "Fuck, fuck, yes. Buffy, Jesus--" I rammed myself down on her, meeting every thrust, coming sharp and hard against her. "Hmm, you're so good, baby..."

This time I didn't even pause, I just dove down and tasted her, the way I'd wanted to since I first smelled how turned on she was. She was already soaked and slippery, and I tongued her from ass to clit, moaning at the taste of her. Buffy yelled out something, her thighs opening for me. I sucked her lips, then used the flat of my tongue on her clit, still pulsing from her last orgasm. I went in as deep as I could, drinking her down, loving every second of it. I reached down and fingered myself at the same time. Fucking perfect, the way Buffy was calling out for me, the way she made me feel. I'd wanted her for so long, and now here she was, lifting her hips up, begging for my mouth, and I was gonna take her with me again.

This time when I came, it was longer, drawing out with every lick of Buffy's pussy. She pounded hard into my mouth, calling out with every thrust, finally shivering to a stop. I slowed down, waiting for her to relax, and slowly kissed my way up her body, her come warm on my lips.

"Faith." Buffy pulled me down and kissed me, tasting herself on my tongue. She said my name like it meant something, like I was her hero all over again. "Thank you."

I kissed her slow, rolling over until we were on our sides, facing each other. I was cooling down, but still warm where we were pressed together, and I sat up quick to pull the sheets and blankets over us.

I figured I'd never have to move again. I was the hero. I was home. And I was falling asleep in the arms of the woman I loved. Shit, you know I could even say it now without being afraid. I loved Buffy Summers. I might be the real Slayer now in the Council's eyes, but laying here, right now, I figured I could quit that gig anytime. Heroes don't need someone to tell 'em what to do. They do what's right, and they do it the way it's supposed to be done. I could be anybody's hero, as long as Buffy was mine.

We'd been lying there on the edge of sleep for a few minutes, when Buffy shifted against me, her breath warm against my neck. "Faith," she said quietly. "Do you think I could have done it? Passed the Cruciamentum, if you hadn't saved me?"

I turned my head, breathing in the scent of her hair. There were lots of answers to that question, easy ones like "Of course," and the tougher ones that might get me kicked out of her bed, like "Who knows?" The real answer had something to do with who wins and who loses, and what it means to save somebody. Fuck saving their life. There's a better kind of saving, and that was more like what Buffy had done for me. Was doing, still, her head cradled on my breast and her fingers drawing circles on my stomach under the sheets. Warm and cozy and tucked up together. No leaving. Could she have passed the Cruciamentum without me? Probably. She woulda found a way. But that wasn't the question she cared about. And there's only one thing I could say to give her the answer she really wanted.

I held her tight, with a just touch of Slayer strength, remembering how good it felt to be back in Sunnydale, how this crappy one-horse town felt like home now, how I knew I'd never have to go on walkabout again. Not while Buffy was here saving me, and being here needing me to save her.

"You're the hero, Buffy," I said, like it was the only truth there was. I felt her lips curve against my chest, smiling, and I knew I'd finally found a way to say what I meant, and to say it right. Hard to believe it was only tonight I came back, only tonight all this happened. Maybe it'll all go to shit, tomorrow, next week, whenever.

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Walkabout

by Queen Zulu

Copyright © 2004

Queenzulu47@yahoo.com