Warrior for the working day

Author’s note

Kate Lockley is as she appeared in Angel, ie she’s late twenties.

@

Angel didn’t meet her in this Universe (as she’d have been about nine).

Also starring

Lyndsy Fonseca as Zoe

Anna Popplewell as Emmy

*

Let me speak proudly: tell the constable

We are but warriors for the working-day;

Our gayness and our gilt are all besmirch'd

With rainy marching in the painful field;

There's not a piece of feather in our host--

Good argument, I hope, we will not fly--

And time hath worn us into slovenry:

But, by the mass, our hearts are in the trim;

And my poor soldiers tell me, yet ere night

They'll be in fresher robes, or they will pluck

The gay new coats o'er the French soldiers' heads

And turn them out of service. If they do this,--

As, if God please, they shall,--my ransom then

Will soon be levied. Herald, save thou thy labour;

Come thou no more for ransom, gentle herald:

They shall have none,

I swear, but these my joints;

Which if they have as I will leave 'em them,

Shall yield them little, tell the constable.

Henry V – William Shakespeare

*

The teen girl bent over so that the bikini rode up between her cheeks. Buffy felt a stab of lust, before forcing it down. The girl wasn’t quiet eighteen and anyway she was one of her daughters’ friends. Seconds later another teenager, climbed out of the pool. In the sun water glistened on her tanned, taut body. Buffy gulped inwardly as she examined the view. Then she steeled herself and picked up the tray filled with glasses of lemonade.

She stepped outside into the back yard, "I’ve brought you some drinks girls," she called. A sea of brown, sexy bodies charged towards her, the bikini’s barely covering their nipples.

"Thanks Mom," Zoe, her eldest daughter reached for the glasses, passing them to her friends and sister, Emmy. Once the tray was empty Buffy turned, trying to push the nubile flesh to the back of her mind.

That was the trouble with being divorced, with no regular sex on offer, your mind went mad with the potential possibilities. The trouble with being a Mom was that you had to resist those possibilities. Buffy wondered if her own Mom had faced the same problems after her divorce. She gave a slight smile, thinking of her; there was an irony in that whilst her Mom was alive Buffy had laughed at her choices, but now she was dead Buffy had found herself following the same path.

There had been a phone call whilst she was in the back yard. The light on her answer phone flashed accusingly. Touching the button, Buffy heard her ex-wife’s voice, "Buffy, this is Bel. I’ll be round at six to pick up the girls for the weekend."

Snapping the off-button Buffy gave a sigh. For their daughter’s sake she and her ex-wife pretended to be friends. When she came they’d make uncomfortable small talk for a few minutes whilst their daughters packed their things into the car and chattered excitedly to Bel’s new girlfriend.

For a few seconds a burst of nostalgia flooded through her, remembering the early days when she’d met Bel. The world was safe and Buffy was vacationing with her friends in Aspen. Bel had been there, skiing and the first time Buffy had seen her she had known what Willow was talking about when she said she preferred women. A one-night stand had led to a vacation romance, a romance that had led to a relationship and a relationship had led to marriage, and finally marriage had led to divorce. Buffy sighed and looked out the window, it all seemed so long ago.

Then she scrunched up her eyes, an average sized redhead was walking down the street, swinging a bag as she did so. "Willow?" whispered Buffy and then the redhead turned the corner.

Buffy rubbed her eyes, it couldn’t be Willow. She hadn’t seen her old friend in over twenty years and the chances of her walking down a suburban street in a small town were so low as to be next to impossible. The nostalgia had just clouded her mind for a minute. She smiled to herself – memory had its place, but whatever today’s problems she wouldn’t swap them with the past. She had two lovely daughters and that was much better than fighting and killing in the dark corners of the night.

*

With the girls at Bel’s the house was empty or at least it was until Buffy heard the door open and a voice shouted, "Buffy – you in?"

"I’m upstairs," Buffy called to Dawn. There was a sound of clinking from the kitchen and then Dawn appeared. She was clutching an opened wine bottle and a pair of glasses.

"As my nieces are with the she-bitch, I thought I’d come round and keep you company," Dawn poured a generous measure into one of the glasses and handed it to Buffy. She gave herself an equal helping and sat on the bed, "What you doing?"

Buffy looked at the chest in front of her. It hadn’t been open for a long while, "I thought I saw Willow," she replied, "It just got me thinking…"

"Was it her?" Dawn sipped at the wine.

There was a shrug from Buffy. She picked up a mace from the box, it was much heavier than she remembered, and even holding it pulled her wrist back painfully. She remembered a time when she held like it was candyfloss, "I don’t know. Probably not."

Moving slightly Buffy allowed Dawn to kneel beside her and rummage in the chest. Her younger sister brought out a photo, "Remember this?"

The photo consisted of a small group of people standing dutifully in line, smiling at the camera. In the middle stood the oldest of them, Giles her watcher. Buffy stood on one side, Faith on the other. Dawn, Willow and Xander made up the rest of the line-up. Buffy smiled at the memory – poor Xander, a few months later he was dead, torn to pieces by the Yeti. Buffy wondered if that had been the tipping point when she realised she’d had enough and needed to get out. Perhaps if Xander hadn’t died Bel would have been just a vacation fling…

Taking the photo Buffy smiled wistfully at it for a moment, then put it back in the chest. As she did so her finger brushed against a leather volume. She pulled it out, it looked indescribably old, in thick red letters was the inscription ‘Of Filiolus quod Trucido’. "Willow’s wedding gift," she explained to Dawn.

She could remember Willow passing it to her on the wedding night, with an enigmatic comment to read the first page out loud if she and Bel ever wanted children. A curious Bel had read it on their wedding night, just before a bout of passionate love making – nine months later Zoe had been born. Bel read it once more, for Emmy and then it had gone into the chest never to be reopened. Buffy returned it; memories…

"Do you ever think what would have happened if we’d stayed?" asked Dawn.

"Sometimes," admitted Buffy, " and then I realise we’d be dead by now. I made the right choice; I don’t miss it."

There was a nod from Dawn, "And if you saw a vampire now?"

"I’d run… screaming."

*

The night was dark, not that Buffy minded. She wasn’t in Sunnydale now, the only things that the blackness concealed were owls and their prey. She turned into the alleyway, it cut ten minutes off the walk home.

About halfway down it she thought she heard a noise. She turned round, her hand groping for the rape alarm. Peering into the shadows she missed her Slayer senses – she couldn’t see a thing, but that didn’t mean there wasn’t someone there, a mugger or a man with sex on his mind. Her pace quickened, she could see the light of the road in front of her.

A hand reached out and grabbed her. It tore her wrist from her bag and it tumbled to the ground, amongst the junk rolling away was the rape alarm. She tried to shake herself from her assailant, but he was too strong. Buffy screamed, but fear clouded her vocal chords and the only sound was a half-heard whine. The mugger twisted her round so she faced him.

The face was demonic, evil yellow eyes shone out from under a twisted brow. The mouth opened, a gaping maw exposing two sharp teeth. Buffy’s struggled, but it was no use. The vampire’s head closed on her throat, as he bent she noticed her had a bald patch on the top of his head. It was strange what you noticed, when you were about to die.

The teeth scraped across her throat and Buffy waited for the painful puncture. It didn’t come. Instead the vampire straightened up, a look of gratitude passed his features briefly and then he crumbled into dust. A wooden stake dropped to the floor, landing with a clank.

"Hello B," the newcomer walked out of the shadows and picked up the stake she had thrown.

The years had treated Faith well. Beneath her T-shirt her arms looked toned and muscular, not like a Miss Universe, but like a smooth, supple model. Her hair was shorter, but it contained no trace of grey. Even her skin looked smooth, as if she had just stepped from an L’Oreal advert. If Buffy hadn’t known better she’d have put her old nemesis at nearer twenty than forty.

"Faith!" Buffy said, then adding unnecessarily, "You saved me."

The slayer just shrugged, "If I recall you saved my ass a few times as well."

Buffy felt her legs suddenly wobble, as she thought what would have happened if Faith hadn’t appear. The brunette’s strong arm was suddenly around Buffy’s waist, holding her upright. "I better get you home," said Faith, her voice was more compassionate than Buffy could remember it being.

The house was dark when they returned. Buffy switched on some lights and sat down on the sofa. As she did so Faith walked over to the sideboard and poured them both a drink. She passed a glass to Buffy and sat down next to her.

"To old times," Faith raised her glass and Buffy clinked the tumbler with her own and repeated the toast.

"Are you still with the Slayer’s council? Do you ever see any of the old gang?" Buffy asked, "Willow? Giles?"

Faith shook her head, "Not for a long while. We had a disagreement and went our separate ways."

"What about?"

Faith shrugged and took a sip of the Scotch, "It was a long time ago."

"It must have been a big fight."

Faith took another swig of her drink, "I don’t walk to talk about it," the smile dropped from her face, then she got up and refilled. When she returned she was smiling again, "You know B, when we were younger I always wanted to screw you. I guess that’s why I would never let you be my friend. I was scared you’d find out."

Buffy was surprised by the confession, and not a little pleased, "Why didn’t you say?"

There was a brief snort of laughter from the Slayer, "B – you’d have whipped my ass. I think you forget just how strait-laced you were."

For the first time Buffy realised how beautiful Faith was, the half mocking smile that was on the Slayer’s face merely added to her attractiveness. Buffy reached out a hand and laid it on Faith’s thigh, "I don’t think I could whip you anymore," she said.

"Are you flirting with me?" Faith’s smile widened slightly.

It had been a long time, Buffy had been virtually celibate for four years, ever since Bel had left. The house was empty, the girls away. And it had been one hell of a night, "Yes, I guess I am."

Buffy was surprised by how good a kisser Faith was. Their lips collided and then Faith was slipping her tongue tenderly between them, feeling her away around Buffy’s mouth. Her strong hands held Buffy’s own hands lightly as she did, her finger caressing the blonde’s.

"Wow," said Buffy, when they finally broke, "Do you want to…"

"Yes," Faith interrupted her. Buffy was surprised by how strong the Slayer was as Faith picked her up with one arm, the other reaching for the rucksack Faith had been carrying. They kissed as Faith carried upstairs, Buffy pulling herself away long enough to give the brunette instructions to the master bedroom.

The dress of Buffy and Faith’s jeans and T-shirt were soon in a pile on the floor; the underwear strewn on top of them. Faith sat on the bed and spread her legs. Her slit was decorated with a rose tattoo crawling out of the hole, no hair obscured Buffy’s view of it.

"Are you just going to stand all night?" asked Faith and leant back. Buffy walked over and dropped to her knees between Faith’s legs. She kissed the petals of the tattoo, moving her head down she kissed down the stem. She paused momentarily where the tattoo ended and then kissed Faith’s labia. She could hear a slight moan from the Slayer as their lips touched. Buffy tenderly kissed some more, sliding her tongue out once or twice to dab at the Slayer’s cunt. Liquid began to form and Buffy felt the tang of jizz against the tip of her tongue.

Feeling Faith was ready she moved a hand to pull apart the slot and then moved her tongue deeper in. the hole was moist with Faith’s excitement and as Buffy explored it got wetter still. The juice was lapped into her mouth, coating her tongue in its delicious taste. Faith grunted with every movement of Buffy, sounds that got louder as Buffy latched onto the clit.

It had been so long that Buffy had almost forgotten how much she enjoyed the taste of another woman. She lapped as hard as she could, savouring the soaking cunt and the tang of the jizz in her mouth. Faith was holding her head in place, not using her strength, but just guiding the movements as Buffy swung around. She continued to explore, but each time she would return to the clit, hammering the sensitive spot in a carousel of lust.

Faith was shrieking as Buffy brought her to orgasm. There was something very satisfying, Buffy felt, about feeling someone shudder against you as a result of your ministrations. There was another shriek from Faith and Buffy felt the slayer’s thighs batter her ears in excitement.

"My God, B. If I’d have known you could munch a rug this well I’d have taken the chance of you whipping my ass years ago," Faith stood up and went over to her rucksack, leaving Buffy beaming at the compliment.

When she turned round it was to see faith adjusting the leather belt of a strap-on. Buffy’s mouth almost opened as she gazed lustfully at the rubber toy. Faith saw her looking and grinned back, "Pop on the bed, B, and spread your legs for the ride of your life."

Buffy slid her legs apart and then moved her hands down to widen her hole. Faith was no amateur, as she slid the cock easily. Buffy gave a gasp as she felt it’s full length flood into her. She pushed her head back into the pillow as Faith rose again. Buffy could feel the Slayer’s hard, muscular body slam onto her with a splat of colliding flesh. A flood of pleasure went through her as the cock raced down and rammed into her clit.

Swinging her legs round Buffy hooked them on Faith’s back. She was glad she wasn’t as rusty as she thought she would be, it might have been a long time, but sex was like riding a bike. Using her heels she persuaded Faith to go faster and deeper. The Slayer’s movements showed she agreed with Buffy. The two of them uttered little groans as Faith banged into her. Buffy’s twat juiced up, she could feel the wet liquid spilling over and sliding down onto her thighs. Faith’s jizz slid down the pole to intermingle with it and the sweat they were both producing.

"Fuck me Faith, fuck me harder," there was no reply from the Slayer, but the rubber dong cracked against Buffy’s bud like a baseball bat hitting a home run. The orgasm was better than she could have produced herself, better even than those Bel had produced in the last days of their marriage. Instead it took her back to their early lusty fucks. Even as Buffy screamed and cried in pleasure Faith continued to ram down the cock.

The orgasm broke the dam, but Faith continued to build up the new reservoir. The tidal wave from the second breach was even better, Buffy roared so loud in pleasure she could feel her vocal chords tightening. Still Faith continued, driving Buffy to a third orgasm that surpassed anything she had ever felt before.

Afterwards they lay in together, in the sweat stained sheets. Buffy slowly drifted off to sleep, the smell of Faith a pleasant aroma in her nostrils.

*

When Buffy awoke Faith was gone. Only the crumpled sheets and the slight ache showed Buffy it wasn’t a dream. She got up and put on a robe over her naked body and went down to make breakfast.

She turned on the television in the kitchen "… police have been removing bodies from the New College of California campus. Currently police have not given a figure of the number of casualties in the massacre, though unofficial estimates are putting the number of students killed at over three hundred.

"The massacre comes after last week’s attack at the Mayabelene Night Club in New York where unidentified attackers murdered five hundred party goers and staff. Following this latest attack the President has issued a statement..

"My hearts and prayers go out to the families of the dead. These murders are the work of those without souls and without mercy. The people of America can rest assured that I will not rest until we bring the demons who did this to justice."

And a spokeswoman for the Slayer’s Council also spoke to us at CNN, "The full resources of the Council are at the asking of the President. We recognise that demons walk the earth and it is our job to keep you safe. However, we will, despite some unfounded allegations, always work within the law."

There was the sound of the front door opening, "Hi Mom, we’re back," came Emmy’s call. Buffy switched off the television and went to welcome them back.

*

In her ten years on the force Detective Kate Lockley had seen a lot of murder scenes. Beneath the light façade of Los Angeles there were a million seething passions, all ready to explode into violence. But at least most murders were human – there was a recognisable motive; jealousy, greed, anger.

This was just inhuman. She stepped over an upturned body. It had once been a young woman, though she was so efficiently disembowelled it was hard to tell. Normally in a murder scene, you didn’t walk over the victims, but in this corridor, filled with the bodies of the dead, it was hard to do anything else.

Another detective looked up from where he was rummaging through the dead girls pocket for some identification, "Sex kills," he said mirthlessly.

"Pardon?" Kate looked at him quizzically.

"This a boys dorm, the killing took place at three in the morning. You’re a detective…" he let his comments trail into the ether. Kate knew how he felt – all cops used black humour, it was a way of distancing themselves from the fact that the bloody lumps that they dealt with had shortly before been as alive as they were.

There was a shout from up ahead in the corridor, "We’ve got a survivor."

Kate felt a frisson of excitement as two cops led out a young man. His eyes were wide, but unseeing and he was mumbling. As he passed Kate caught the words, "Deliver me from evil, deliver me from evil," endlessly repeated.

Kate looked at the detective squatting on the floor, "Looks like the kid’s prayer worked."