by Amanda
Rating: NC-17

General Copyright / Disclaimers: Buffy the Vampire Slayer & Angel the syndicated series and all other characters who have appeared in both shows are the sole property of Joss Whedon, Mutant Enemy & UPN. All other characters, the story idea and the story itself are the sole property of the author. This story cannot be sold or used for profit in any way. Copies of this story may be made for private use only and must include all disclaimers and copyright notices.
Date: 042603 - 042803
Spoilers: None. Let’s say this is S4 –ish, and Faith woke up early so…post coma?
Note: All works remain the © copyright of the original author. These may not be republished without the author's consent.
Author's Note: What can I note? Really???

I gripped the window frame tighter, splintering the wood beneath my fingers.

Then it happened. Something caused her to lift her head, open her eyes, and still her hands.

No. No. No. No.

“Don’t stop on my account.” I forced out. Whatever I had done to make her stop, I wished I could take it back. Her neck must hurt, with it straining up like that to look at me. And I decided that I liked seeing her hair mussed, her cheeks rosy.

“I, I… I can explain.” She said in a rush, her hands flying out of her shorts.

“No need. I have eyes.”

“Faith you didn’t see anything.” She sat up completely now, running those hands through her hair, without thinking. When her hands suddenly stopped, she locked eyes with me, and we both laughed. She was caught, and it wasn’t the first time, just the first time by me.

“B, I saw everything.”

“Hm.” She smirked, crossing her arms and waiting as I leaned against the window frame. I knew that there used to be some other fighter of night-crawlies leaning here. But that was a long time ago. Soul boy had run away to LA, leaving B here, with me. “Not everything. But you want to.”

I think my eyes went so wide the right one fell out. I felt off balance, and it was only when my face hit the carpeted floor in her room did it dawn on me. I didn’t think I was off balance; she had literally knocked me off balance. How fucking suave was that? Falling face first into her room? I closed my eyes and begged for something to swallow me whole. But there was just B’s soft laughter.

“Kill me.” I groaned, turning so my face was fully engulfed in carpet. Then I groaned again, this time due to the vision my mind decided to replay for me. The vision of B laying on her bed, wearing that thin black tank top, her nipples straining against it, and loose pair of old gray cut off sweats, with her hands, both of them lost inside. Her breathing had been ragged, her teeth biting into her bottom lip, releasing, and biting again. God, to sneak up the side of the house, just planning on asking her to the Bronze, and to stand there and see her touching herself, to see her hips moving in time against her hand. The cords of muscle were standing out on her arms, her knuckles pressing against the thin material of the shorts. Involuntarily my eyes rolled up remembering the sound of her moans.

The giggling stopped.

Great. Now I had to find away to not appear like an idiot when I looked at her. How could I do that? I had caught her in the act of getting off, and then I had fallen flat on my face. There was no way to salvage any of this evening. It would be in my best interests to get up, to turn around and leave without saying a word. Yep. Walk out, not even looking at her. I could do that. I could still be the bad ass.


Buffy had been so close when she heard the small squeak coming from the window. Opening her eyes and seeing Faith standing there, fingers digging into the wood of the frame, her red mouth open, and the look of pure hunger in her eyes, had not been what Buffy had planned. She froze, like a deer, not moving not breathing, her own fingers buried somewhere, a place that Faith’s eyes had seemed riveted to. Buffy had blinked once, then twice, and then she realized that neither one of them had moved, and that her hands were still in her shorts.

What followed, with Buffy making a decision, one she should have made a long time ago, and calling Faith on the want she had seen in those brown eyes, to Faith literally falling over.

It went from bad to maybe good, to hysterical. And when Faith moaned, everything changed again.


I heard her get off the bed. Quiet footsteps went past me to the window, which I heard close with a thud. Then curtains were pulled closed. When was she going to say something? Was she going to say something?

Then a softer thud, beside my head.

I opened one eye, and was looking at a discarded black tank top.

Another drop.

Grey shorts on the top.

I swallowed.

I wanted to speak, as two feet came into view.

There were not enough words, not enough air to speak them, and no strength to get me to roll over.

The feet walked away.

The bed made a faint noise.

A heavy breath was shaky when it was released.

A sigh.

Wet. The sound of something wet, and my skin tightened and the hairs on the back of my neck stood on end.

Just turning my head I saw her feet, raised on her toes. I followed the naked tanned legs up, to the bend in her knee, and then pushed myself up off the floor with my arms, unable to look away. Unable to not see B sitting in front of me, completely naked.

Did I hit my head when I fell?

Her legs were partially spread, and her right hand was moving up and down, between the apex of her thighs. I could hear her fingers moving through the wetness, gathering it with her fingertips and painting her entire self with it.


“Just watch, Faith, before I loose my nerve.” She whispered.

“God, B.” I hissed, moving to my knees, my hands becoming tight fists as I raised my eyes from her hand, up her twitching abdominal muscles, to her breasts topped with the perfectly taunt nipples, moving up and down with the deep breaths she was taking. I looked up higher, to see that she was looking right at me, her eyes searching mine. I had to be dreaming, there was no fucking way I was sitting here, watching Buffy Summers touch her self, not with her watching me watching her.

Her pink tongue emerged from her mouth, and wet her bottom lip, before it was bitten. She blinked her eyes, her hand moving faster. This was happening, I was watching this. She was sharing this with me, but I had to have more. I had to touch her, to taste her, to be with her, to feel it under her fingers, to know the feel of her skin, to make this real.

I moved closer to the edge of the bed.

“Do you know how much I want you?”

She moaned.

“Did you know I was watching you?”

Another moan.

“Did you want me to?”

A gasp.

“Were you thinking about me?”

Biting her lip she nodded.

“B you are making me so wet, I want to touch you.” I confessed in a whisper, not wanting to startle her, or make her stop again.

“No.” She said, her eyes becoming harder, her hand slowing slightly, but not stopping.


“Mm, oh, oh, god,” her voice shook, and it looked like she was fighting it off, but the pleasure was etched on her face, “I, no Faith. Show me.”


“Show me, please, god please, show me, you, wet, urgh, Faith.”

The pleading sound of her voice broke me, it really did.

I ripped off my leather jacket, then the red top I had picket out special for her. I stood up, then stopped hearing her groan, and froze as her eyes riveted on my naked breasts and she licked her lips. Her hand was moving faster now, and I had better fucking hurry. I kicked off my boots, and hopped out of my leather pants, before dropping to my knees a foot away from her. So close I could smell her.

I snapped, “Go inside; let me see you go inside.”

“Mm hm,” she responded nodding and then I watched her hand shift, her eyes opened wider as she penetrated herself. I felt my sex twitch in empathy.

“Fuck you’re beautiful Buffy” I moaned, studying her intently as she rode her own hand. I was sweating just watching her.

“So are you.” She panted.

As if reading my mind she spread her legs even wider, and I could see everything. I wanted to close my eyes in reverence, but dared not to, afraid I would miss something, and this was not something I could just miss. Those strong fingers were pounding into her, and I could tell from the noises coming from her that it wouldn’t be long now. That was when I realized I was rocking along with her, my palms flat on the floor, but I was moving my body in time with hers. God I would give anything to touch her, just a small part of her.

“Show me Faith.” Her voice didn’t even sound like the B I knew. It had taken on a completely different tone, one that made gooseflesh rise, and I shivered. I leaned back, feet flat on the floor, making sure I had her attention, as I cupped my breast in my right hand, making sure to pinch the nipple. She groaned, and I couldn’t help my smirk, as I trailed my hand down my stomach, avoiding the still red scar, down further to the shortened dark curls. I slipped two fingers down my length as I dropped open my legs, using the fingers to spread myself completely open for her scrutinizing eyes. And she was looking, her eyes widening, and then her head fell back as she groaned out my name.

I stilled my hand, and watched her as she twitched, her upper body moving, her face flushing, and then she fell back onto the bed. Even coming she was perfect.

Slowly I got to my knees and made my way around the bed to the side, where her face was pointed at the wall. Her eyes were closed, but it didn’t take a rocket scientist to see the line of tears coming out of them.

“B?” I whispered, my hand brushing the hair completely out of her face. She flinched a little. Did she regret what just happened? I didn’t touch her or anything. I just- “Buffy, what is it?”

“Nothing. I, I’m sorr”-

She didn’t get to finish. I pressed my lips against hers. She couldn’t say that word. It would ruin the beauty of everything. It would break my heart. It would kill me. So I pressed my lips against hers. Wasn’t the first time. But it was the first time I felt her kiss me back.

I leaned closer to her, letting my hand cup her face as I pecked my lips against hers. Once, twice, third time, and then her tongue was tracing my bottom lip, asking, and I opened to her. Tentative brushing of tongues together, tasting her. Feeling the warm wet that was her mouth, something I never thought I would- but I couldn’t think when the kiss turned hungry, and she was holding onto my shoulders tightly.

We pulled away at the same time, gasping for air. I looked into her eyes, which seemed clear.

“Thank you.” I said. It wasn’t something I said all the time, hell I rarely said it. But I meant it. I know how hard that must have been for her, and it wasn’t like we were in love and a couple or anything. But still she had trusted me enough to show that to me. I wasn’t stupid. I knew that she knew I wanted her. Always had, but I was too fucking scared to.

“No, Faith.” Her hand slowly moved down my arm, her eyes following it, then looking at me, as if realizing that I was there, totally naked, kneeling beside her bed. “I want to thank you.”




“Get up here.”

“Up there.”

“Don’t make me beg, Faith.”

“Never, B.”

I moved to get on the bed. Well I sort of stood, tried to step over her to get on the other side, but her hands attached to my waist and pushed or pulled or something. Because I was on my back, staring at the ceiling, and then I felt it. Her skin touching my leg, more skin touching my stomach, oh God her breasts on mine. I arched into her, pressing our bodies together as she came to rest on top of me. I felt her hair tickling against my face, and without looking I leaned up and attacked her lips. Licking and biting, and then taking control of her mouth. I was on fire, and aching, and needed to touch her now. I needed something, because being in this status was not going to be comfortable much longer.

Pulling away, she wiped the back of her hand across her mouth.

“You want me, F?”

I nodded.

“Tell me.”


“Yes what?”

“B, don’t play this game. I want you, I need you, I will fucking beg you to let me touch you.” I ran my hands down her back.

“Don’t think so.” She reached, took my wrists and brought them back to the bed. “You keep your hands here. I am going to have you begging, but for me to touch you.”

What could I do? I groaned, which turned into a moan as she kissed and sucked my neck, then rolled her tongue around my breasts, but she moved past them quickly. When she dipped her tongue into my belly button I froze. There was no way she was going to do what I thought she was going to do.

But she did. Pushing my legs, getting my knees to bend, resting her hands on my hips, she did.


With a cupped tongue, sliding it slowly from the soft forgotten skin between two places, between folds, deepening in color, pulling as it presses deep gathering more liquid on it, before reaching higher to just caress the swollen clit. Buffy pulled her mouth away, swallowing and savoring all that she had collected on the two inch journey. Senses swarming with the heady pleasure of salt and heat and everything that was purely Faith. Placing her open mouth back against the quaking muscles, her nose teasing the clit as her tongue curled to catch all that it could and she did the same journey, slowly, taking her time.

She had dreamed about this moment, this act for years. She would think about it while she touched herself, imagining the pleasure she would feel in bringing Faith to orgasm as she rode atop her face. She would imagine it while eating cherry filled pies, and would get the stares as well, when her long tongue would extend out and pierce the pie, as her face would flush, and she would be lost in imagining just how sweet Faith would taste. There was no more need for imaging, she was here, Buffy was being gifted, graced with the pleasure of touching Faith in the most intimate way possible. Pressing her mouth against her sex. It was trust and it was not just about getting off and getting gone. This was about a connection, between the two of them, a connection that no one else could claim to have. It was heady really, and she was loosing herself in the slow crawl of her tongue, so much so that she wasn’t hearing the pleading mews coming from Faith.

“God, please, please, I need, don’t, oh god please.” A growled chant, snapping her from her own pleasure.

Her hands, which had been left resting softly on Faith’s hips, moved down and fingers confidently grasped her thighs, lifting Faith up slightly, and she pressed her entire face into the apex of those toned legs, her tongue entering, exploring as deep as it could go.

“Yes.” Was hollered, and she held her tongue rigid as she moved her head to penetrate Faith. She could feel her thrashing and knew, just by feeling the muscles that were trying to clench and hold her tongue that she was doing something very right, but wanted more. She wanted to stare into those brown eyes as Faith came.

Buffy pulled her head back, and kissed the wet sex deeply once more, then traced the opening with her tongue, the tang hitting the back of her throat different that it had been before. She was close, and Buffy smiled as she flicked her tongue against the hidden clit, once lightly, then harder, forcing the hood back and Faith jerked before crying out.


She was trying to kill me. I was dying and going to heaven, and it was at the hands, or rather tongue of Buffy Summers. I always knew this girl would be the one who killed me, never thought I would love the way she sent me there.

For someone who played Miss-Straight-America she was doing things I had only read about, playing my body like it was some sort of instrument. That wasn’t even right. It was like she was devouring me, eating something she had to consume every last bit of. And I was going to let her.

Feeling her inside of me was just enough torture; just enough to keep my riding the edge, but not letting me cross over. I didn’t want to breathe, didn’t think I could do anything, but I really wanted to drop my hands, getting handfuls of her hair and shove her face back when she pulled away.

So close and she just backed away? God help me, I was going to start begging again.

“B, what are you?”

Her finger on my lips silenced me. I opened my eyes, feeling the bed shift with her weight as she moved. Those hazel eyes were above me, boring into me. She was looking at me like she wanted to see inside of me, like she wanted to know all of my secrets all of my fears. Like she gave a damn and she wanted me to know it. She was looking at me like I had dreamed she would for years. My throat moved, and I realized I had gulped, nearly choking on my own breath that ended up being caught. The lights that were too harsh when all this started set fire to her blonde hair, as it draped around her face, framing her. Making her even more beautiful than I had ever seen her, making me want to let her see inside of my soul. I blinked once and stopped hiding. No more masks, no more games. She wanted to see it all? I would show her. Every single bit of me, blood, bone, guilt, pain, anger, and love.


Her eyes widened when it happened. When the brown eyes deepened and then shimmered with a new light. When they filled with unshed tears. When Faith became a woman, in all of her complex beauty.


My neck arched, head falling back, pressing into the pillows and raising my back up off the bed, when her fingers entered me in one confidant stroke. The want and pleasure rushed over me, from the physical feeling of her naked breasts pressing against mine, being filled by her again; from the thought that those fingers, buried deep inside of me, had been inside of her when I first crawled up to her window. It was too much, all of it. And then she started moving. In and out.


She never knew it could feel this good, touching someone else. Watching them as everything seemed to become perfect. The chemicals were racing through her body, giving Buffy enhanced senses. It was as if everything was alive around them. The scent in the air, the moist breath that was coming faster from Faith’s parted lips.

“Look at me.” Buffy whispered.


I relaxed a little, my eyes opening. And she smiled. Then she started thrusting harder, deeper.

“Kiss me.” I begged, and she dipped her head down, for a soft kiss, but I grabbed her bottom lip between my teeth and pulled on it, licked it, had to have another part of her inside of me. I was getting so close and I just knew I had to be allowed over the edge. From the moment all of this started I was super charged and now I just had to be allowed release. She had to let me come.

Buffy kissed me back, reclaiming her lip and forcing her tongue deep inside. I could taste the mingling of me in her mouth and I groaned, arching my hips up faster, harder against her hand. She matched the rhythm of her fingers and tongue for a moment before pulling away gasping for breath. Her face was red, she licked her upper lip, I was ready to die.

“Come for me baby. You are so fucking close I can feel it.”

That was it, that was enough, or the end to a combination of things that shot through the center of me, and I erupted around her, throbbing and aching and coming harder than I ever remembered doing it before, all while loosing myself inside of green and brown eyes. I think I forgot to breathe.


Buffy smiled as she watched Faith’s eyes fall shut, and her chest stop heaving. The dark Slayer had passed out.

She bent and set a light kiss on her lips, before inching her fingers out of the still tight embrace. She let her eyes roam over the relaxed body beside her as she settled down propping her head in her hand. The sheen of sweat on the tan skin was something she had seen before, but it seemed more exotic seeing it on firm breasts and the hallow of her throat. One bead of sweat rolled over a tawny colored nipple, magnifying the pores, the unique skin of the areola. Buffy’s mouth went dry, watching its slow descent, and dipped her head closer to lap it up. The saltiness exploded in her mouth, and she knew why they told people not to drink salt water. It did make you want more, crave more. She leaned over Faith’s body, and licked from one nipple to throat, and then throat to the other nipple. Still not enough.

Sitting back with a sigh, feeling reality settle on her once more, as Faith’s chest rose and feel in sleep, she wondered why she had waited so damn long. Years of teasing, taunting, and even one or two near misses. She should have done something about it then, instead of waiting.

The first time they had kissed, she should have stopped Faith from running away after, from pretending the next day when they saw each other that it was just a mistake caused by the devil known as Tequila shots that had been consumed. Buffy should have known; no one kissed the way Faith kissed her when they were drunk. That kiss on the dance floor of the Bronze, had been one of desperation and want. But what had Buffy done? Stood there like a fool, and allowed Faith to run away scared. That was last summer.

It took an accident, a simple act of being in the right place at the right time for them both to do what they had been dying to do since they locked eyes in an alley three years before.

Her hand cupped the warm cheek of the girl beside her, and she allowed her thumb to run over the bottom lip. Buffy smiled as the eyelashes fluttered, and the thin lids opened slowly.

“You killed me.” Faith croaked.

“Well, yeah, I sort of did.” Buffy responded, leaning forward slowly, feeling her heart swell as Faith leaned up to meet her half way. Lips brushed against lips, and Buffy knew,


kissing her I just knew. This was it. This was right.

The End