So Lonely

By Xpiredgrrl

Copyright © 2003

youthdecay82@yahoo.com.au

The worst of it was what came next; the feeling that half of herself was dead. Where there used to be gleaming green eyes and shiny blonde hair, now there was a hell of a lot of nothing.

Sure B had stabbed her, robbed her of all that time she’d spent in a coma. It didn’t change what was there. That unspoken connection between the two of them, the primal lust for the kill that B so often tried to deny. It was there, no doubt about it.

Now it was gone, stolen from her in the blink of an eye. Retiring to her bunk early she’d all but ignored her cellmate for the rest of the night. Ignored anyone that tried to talk to her. Curled up in a ball, she held herself tight as though she could hold in what was left of B.

Memories and fantasies. They swirled in her head, the two facets of her mind mixing together in sickening Technicolor. After a while she was unable to differentiate between the two.

So many night of slaying together. Synchronized Slaying. A new Olympic category. Watching each other get more and more juiced with each kill. Seeing those warm green eyes get filled with a fire from within. When the Scoobies weren’t there, B would succumb. She’d let the Slaying take her to places that she’d never been before, focusing only on the kill, her breath coming in gasps.

They’d walk for a while together; any touch that was "accidentally" made sending shivers through their bodies. B would always deny it, politely refusing all of Faith’s invitations to come back and get some relief from the H & H. She’d turn and head back to Revello Drive in the darkness. The fire within Faith would burn stronger as she watched B’s ass recede into the distance, wishing that the blonde had taken her up on the offer. Faith would lick her lips and run back to her motel room, anxious to be alone. Once there she’d strip, and her hand would wander down between her legs. Her mind would take over; imaging it was B’s hand working at her clit, or B’s delicate fingers pounding within her.

The next day she’d asked B how the rest of her night was, and the blonde would blush. A small trickle of pink creeping up the smooth skin of her cheeks, burning to crimson, before she’d break eye contact and turn away. These were the moments Faith lived for.

There was that one night, they were supposed to be meeting Giles in one of the cemeteries. They met at the Bronze; Buffy had been full of innuendoes with the Scoobies, which Faith had played up to, savoring every second of their shocked reactions. Like Red was one to talk, she wasn’t driving stick anymore anyway. Faith had felt more alive than ever. She’d gotten a slay in on the way to the Bronze, a newbie vamp that had no fucking clue, but she was burning, aching with desire. They’d walked out, Buffy’s arm around her shoulder.

"Don’t be mad ok?" Buffy had started. Faith quirked an eyebrow.

"Mad about what B?" she asked, feeling less than happy that Buffy’s arm had moved from it’s perch.

"I got one," she said quietly. "On the way here. It wasn’t like I was trying to start without you, but he was just there-

"B! How could you?" Faith cut her off, pretending to be mad, but secretly loving the loaded look Buffy was sending her way. Buffy looked apologetic. Faith couldn’t resist and started laughing. "It’s okay, B. I did too."

"Really? You’re not mad?" Buffy started to smile herself and pushed Faith against the wall. "You tricked me!"

"Maybe a little," Faith had stopped smiling, Buffy’s face was only a short distance away from hers, so close that she could feel the blonde Slayer’s breath coming in short bursts across her lips. Faith licked her own lips nervously. The movement caught Buffy’s eye, and she focused on Faith’s mouth, a strange look coming into her eyes.

"Faith?" Buffy said quietly, her gaze intense and never leaving the dark Slayer’s lips.

"B?" Faith whispered back, letting her hand trail softly down her arm. There was one moment, an awkward moment, were both Slayers knew what was going to happen next, but neither made the move. Finally Buffy leaned forward and placed her lips on Faith’s gently. The action set Faith into motion and the kiss quickly became searing, tongues groping, meeting and jostling for dominance. Buffy pressed her body against Faith’s, the liquid heat off the dark Slayer’s body pouring into her own. Faith’s hand flew to Buffy’s ass, grabbing it roughly and pushing the smaller girl against her. Her leather clad thigh burrowing between Buffy’s desperately as a gasp escaped Buffy’s throat. Buffy pressed Faith further into the wall, somewhat scraping her shoulder blade into the damp brick, but Faith didn’t notice, not until later, when the small graze was already mostly healed. Faith felt something like a cross between a moan and a grunt brewing in her throat and was surprised at the animalistic nature of the noise when it finally escaped. Buffy’s hand had worked its way under Faith’s shirt, over the toned stomach and up to her breast, tweaking the nipple between her fingers. Faith’s pussy cried out for attention and release, the heat from inside finding an outlet as she took one of Buffy’s thighs between her own and starting grinding into it mercilessly.

"Oh…Faith." Buffy stopped and pulled away from the other Slayer, breaking the intimate moment.

"What B?" Faith was slightly annoyed. She glared at the blonde.

"We have to go and meet Giles," Buffy said simply. "We’re already late." Faith ran her hands through her hair in frustration.

"Can’t we just blow it off?" she suggested a wicked grin spreading over her face. Buffy leaned in again, her lips brushing against Faith’s ear.

"Or we could go. Slay. Then after…" It was a loaded sentence, completed with a lusty grin. Faith took her hand and practically ran to the cemetery.

Except "after" never happened. Faith’s new Watcher turned up that night and demanded that Faith go off with her. Then the bitch turned out to be evil. Which led to Buffy and Faith having their first fight ever. Serious fight. Not training or a sparring match.

It had turned Faith on more than anything else Buffy had ever done. She’d seen the look in B’s eyes during the fight. Even when she was slaying she didn’t get that look. It was pure lust. Faith had just about driven herself to a permanent injury from RSI after that night. All she had to do was conjure up the memory of the glint in Buffy’s scorching green eyes and she was soaking and ready to go.

The day she’d busted Buffy outta school and they’d taken the vamp nest during the day. Like 15 vamps all going poof into dust, but some not without a fight. A fight that had gotten them both going. Buffy, for some reason that day had been willing to admit that the slaying did have certain affects on her, whereas barring that one night outside the Bronze she’d always denied it. The afternoon sun shone down on them as they’d left the nest, brushing the dust from themselves.

"B?" Faith stepped in front of her, feeling the charge of being in Buffy’s presence dancing around her.

"Yeah." Buffy brushed her left arm off. Faith reached up tentatively to Buffy’s face.

"You got a little…" she brushed off a line off dust on Buffy’s cheek. "Gone now."

"Thanks," Buffy replied huskily, her eyes taking on *that* look that Faith had come to recognize as desire.

"No problem," Faith gulped and let her hand slide down Buffy’s arm, not breaking eye contact.

Faith shifted on her hard bunk. Can’t romanticize it, she told herself. The encounter had been brief, both of them desperately pawing at each other, neither of them really getting anywhere and Buffy leaving immediately after. Not angry, just uncomfortable.

"We’ll talk about it later ok? At the Bronze?" Buffy had kissed her on the cheek and flaunted out, leaving Faith with a head full of questions and the scent of Buffy-pussy still on her lips.

Then murders, conspiring with the Mayor etc etc, everything in Faith’s life that had to do with Buffy flew through her mind. Switching bodies. Now that had been a wild ride. Fucking herself had never felt so good as when she was in B’s body.

Because it wasn’t her. It was Buffy. In Buffy’s body she could pretend she was someone else.

She closed her eyes. B would never give her that lusty post-slayage look again. Never touch her by accident and send shivers running down her spine and tingles between her legs.

She didn’t need anyone to tell her. She already knew. As the memories and fantasies played out again and again, a single tear rolled slowly down her face.

The End

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