Relapse: Highway 10

Rating: R

Disclaimer: Joss owns "Buffy" and I only write never ending ficlets about sex in a car.

Distribution: The Mystic Muse http://mysticmuse.net 

Feedback: I need feedback like every cast member on "Buffy" needs to kill some people then find redemption..."Forgiveness makes us human, blah, blah, blah."-Anya

Spoilers: AtS: Orpheus.

Pairing: Willow/Faith

Author's Notes: This story took a lot longer to write than attended. It's more light hearted than my Addiction story, with more love than just sex against a wall...not saying there's anything wrong with that though.

Relapse: Highway 10

She looks different. I'm not looking. Trying not to look.

She looks older. I guess that's what prison does to you.

We've been driving for ten minutes now. Only fifty to go. Damn. If I breath in from my mouth then I wont smell her, then I wont melt in this seat.

I hear a sound to my right. I sneak a glance. She's shifting in her seat, and I quickly look back on the road.

"I saw that." She states simply. I inwardly curse my own stupidity.

A few seconds pass. "Are you going to go the whole hour without looking at me?" She asks. I know I'm going to try. That is if I don't pass out, because now I'm holding my breath. I let out a quiet gust of air.

"That's the plan."

God. Now I can smell her. What is that scent? Vanilla with a hint of sadist reformed?

"Well, there's no reason for it. It's not going to kill you to look at me." But I beg to differ. If I look at her, then we'll crash into a light post because I'll try to jump her bones. After all these years, I can't believe how much I still want her.

"We can play a road game." She says casually. Faith wants to play a road game. This woman who I've seen and felt shudder under my mouth in ecstasy wants to play a road game. Like what? Twenty questions? I spy? I think for a second. It's probably safer than looking at her.

"Okay," I reply cautiously. I feel her smile. I don't know when was the last time she smirked, but this was a smile.

She shifts in her seat again, more vigorously. I barely sustain the urge to look at her. But I do jump out of my seat a foot when I feel her hand go down my jeans. She unbuttoned and undid the zipper in one quick motion as if she'd done it a hundred times before, because I know she has. I swerve violently on the road, but maintain some control without hitting anything.

I would have been better off just looking at her.

"Damn, Red. 'Been awhile, huh?" She moves her finger inside me, and...I'm going to die.

"What are you..." I start, but she moves her finger again and I squeal from shock like I haven't done since High School. Since my first meeting with Faith. "...doing?" This is unwanted physical contact. Well, unprepared-for physical contact.

"Don't tell me you've never gotten road head before." She's enunciating her words with her fingers which makes me involuntarily jerk forward, and giving her more room to maneuver.

"Fun game, huh?"

I'm moaning, trying to form some words. "I'm...seeing someone...Oh, God..." That's why I told Fred. That's why I waited until we were in front of Faith to say that I'm seeing someone. So this wouldn't happen. Not like it ever stopped 'this' from happening before.

She reaches her other hand under my shirt, which I vaguely register must be a difficult task considering that I'm swerving like hell on this highway.

"Please, stop." While I still have the self control to ask.

Surprisingly, she does.

My breathing is almost under control. "Right, I get it. You're seeing someone." Her voice sounds almost defeated. Faith, sounding defeated? Prison defiantly changed her. "So, how is Tara?" She asked in her sarcastic bitchy tone.

I slam on the brakes, and steer to the side of the road, ignoring the honking cars passing by. The bitch. I'm going to kill her. I'm larger *with* gernades, and I'm going to make her pay. Once the car is stopped I look at her with a look I saw Buffy cower at. A look of rage. She visibly flinches when she sees it. As if she didn't know...

She didn't know.

Of course, you idiot, how would she? She's been in prison for the last two years. Or has it been three? I used to count the days, but I don't anymore.

I close my eyes and look away. Count to ten, one, two, three...

"Tara's dead." I state simply.

"Oh...Oh God, I didn't know. I swear I didn't." She's defensive, as if I thought Faith was the one who killed her. That's how I acted.

"I know...I'm sorry." Now, I sound defeated.

"How did it happen?" She asks timidly.

"Someone shot her, I couldn't bring her back. Got crazy with the magick, killed people, tried to destroy the world."

"It sounds a lot better in the brochure, doesn't it?" She believes me right off. Now a days, who isn't becoming a murderer and then finding redemption?

"What can I say; I've always had an addictive personality. Magick, power...you." I look at her. Directly this time. Her eyes seem a deeper brown than before. Not darker, just deeper. A girl could get lost in those eyes, and I know if I keep staring I will. So, I keep staring.

"Same here, Red...Except the magick part."

"Well you always have time. I can teach you some spells, and you can go crazy from there."

"Already crazy." We both smile. I'm still looking at her, and I hate it when she blinks. When I can't see her eyes.

I see it happen before it does. The moment of hesitation, the mental arguments going on behind her eyes. I see her leaning in toward me, and I have enough time to stop it.

I shoot forward and press my lips against her's. She makes a small sound of shock from my sudden movement. She was going to go slow, making sure that she didn't scare me, then I end up being the one scaring her. I probably would feel bad about that if I cared, but right now all I care about is the wonderful sense of Faith's lips that I haven't felt in four years. It seems longer than that.

Her initial shock wears off when I push my tongue into her mouth. She returns the kiss greedily and after a minute or so, I think I'll pass out. When our lips part, I wonder how Faith became sprawled out across the front seats with me on top of her.

She starts to kiss and suck at my neck, trailing down across my collarbone. It's amazing. Each kiss sends a bolt through me, and it's fermilar but different every time. Just like every time I see Faith. My hands become tangled in her hair as she wraps hers around my waist and under my shirt.

I know this is wrong. Bad. Wrong. Sex, bad. Magick, wrong.

I know this was wrong. It was wrong when she was a murderer and I was going behind my friend's back. It was wrong when I was cheating on Oz, and had to wear certain cloths to hide the bite marks. It was wrong to sleep with Oz for the first time, but think of her. Now, it's not wrong. It's two adults finding comfort in each other. It's two reformed killers venting frustration out through sex. It's just a relapse, and everyone does it. Better this than destroying the world.

Rationalizing, bad.

I pull away from her and her look somewhat resembles lust, but softer. I don't think she looked this soft before, but maybe she did. Maybe not. Prison changes you. It hardens people, but she was already hard so I guess it softened her.

I sit up, as hard as that is, considering that I seem to be magnetically drawn to her. She looks at me disappointedly and whimpers. A groan escapes my lips as I try to resist the magnetic pull. Faith smiles, both of us remembering how her whimpers effects me.

"Back seat." Once I say it, I'm out the door and stumbling to get into the back only to discover that Faith had just crawled over the passenger seat. Always taking shortcuts. I get in and automatically try to attach myself to her again, but I see something click in her mind. She stops mid-attachment, and looks at me intensely. It's shocking how intense her looks can be. Not as shocking as her words.

"I thought about this for so long. So many nights..." I think she's talking about the sex momentarily, but somehow I realize she's not. "Regretting what I said--what I did to you. I don't want to ruin it this time. I just want...I want you to know." She's breathing in and out harshly, completely unwilling to say the next words. Or just afraid to.

"Willow...I missed you."

I know now that this is not the Faith I left in Room 223. I just don't know if I like it or not. "What about the rules?"

"No more rules."

Emotion. Raw, undeniable vulnerability, fear, and determined emotion. For all the times before when I wanted this, she gives it to me the one time I don't.

No more rules. No more games. If we did this, we would do this. We wouldn't hide, we wouldn't find more cheap motel rooms. It wouldn't be like last time because if it was, it would end up killing us both.

But it was just sex. Just a repetitive one night stand. I knew that's what she thought it was. I thought that's what she knew it was. It's just addiction. It's just...then she kisses me softly. Softer then I ever thought she could. She kisses me like Tara used to.

From there it's nothing but red hair against brown. Green eyes against brown. Skin against skin. Pale against tan. Lips against mine. Orgasm next to orgasm.

Oh, God.

We manage to get our cloths on at around twelve a.m. Not rushed or because of shame, just a slow dressing and it's amazing and different just like everything with Faith.

We're sitting in the car, just as we had before. But now we're unafraid to show afterglow, unashamed to have our nerves raw. I speak, but my voice sounds different as if it's farther away than it should be.

"We'd better go. Buffy...She doesn't know about you coming back with me." Faith looks shocked, but recovers quickly. It's probably the first time all night either of us have thought about Buffy.

"Did you tell her about Angelus?" I know I should have. It'll be shock enough for her to deal with Faith.

"She knows I went to LA to help, she just doesn't know...anything else." She smiles softly and I struggle not to kiss her again.

"It was your idea to bring me back." I look away, tearing my eyes from hers.

"I know Buffy would've done the same, if she was here."

"Well, I'm glad you were the one who came." There's something about the softness in her words that makes me believe it's the nicest thing she's ever said to anyone.

She entwines my fingers with her own, grasping my hand tightly.

"We'd better go." She states, and I start the car and shift it into gear, losing hand contact with Faith for only a second.

We drive for fifty minutes and I look at her for twenty five of them, unafraid to steal a glance. I have no idea what I'm going to tell Buffy or Xander...or Kennedy.

But as I look at her and feel new emotions forming toward Faith alone, I know I finally figured out how to get over my addiction.

The End

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