Smitten

A/N: You know what's really annoying? When your computer eats your chapter and you have to write it twice. Grr. So, wanted to update sooner, couldn't, but here it is now.

Chapter Two

You can read me like a trashy book
I'm barely keeping in these rages
So far, so clean, but I'm torn between
See, I'm torn between these pages, pages.

I can hear the angel on my shoulder
And the devil on your lips.
Smitten, by Bree Sharp

*

The music throbbed through the walls of the Bronze, the deep bass drumming an impossible-to-sit-still-for beat. Faith grinned over her shoulder at Buffy as they swung through the doors, already dancing as she pushed through the crowd to get closer to the speakers. The hot press of dance-sweaty bodies warmed her after the cool night outside. Buffy let Faith shove open a space for them to gyrate within the heavy Friday night crush. The thunderous blare of band and audience felt like a solid thing, inside her, pulsing in time with her blood, and Buffy gave herself up to the music. She moved on instinct, feeling the brief brushes of warm strangers against her mostly-bare skin. The heat and the flashing lights whirled together, feeding a frenzy within her to move, to touch, to dance as hard as she could until she was panting for air.

Faith lifted her hands through her hair and slid them down her body to the music's pounding rhythm, inviting everyone within fifty feet to check her out. She led their eyes down from the black silk cloth she'd worn as an excuse for a top, to her tight-in-all-the-right-places leather pants, to the heavy combat boots that didn't match the outfit so much as they matched Faith. Buffy could feel the room gasp...or maybe it was her, releasing a breath she hadn't known she was holding.

Boys surrounded them, but somehow Faith's elbows managed to slam into them if they got too close. Still, the guys crowded in, but they were only obstacles to dance around, touches to avoid. Buffy closed her eyes and ignored them, stamping her heels down on their toes if they tried too hard to cop a feel. Even dancing blind, she knew every time it was Faith's fingers stroking up and down her bare back, Faith's hand settling on her hip to guide her closer for a second, for a beat, for an eternity. Every now and then, the animal fervor of the people around them pressed them together, so closely that Faith's swaying hips might ram into her ass, randomly, accidentally, the brief friction making her tremble. Even in the breathless heat, Faith's touch sent shivers through her.

But that was just the Slayer connection. If it weren't for that, Buffy could be dancing with anybody. It could have been Angel...and she was beginning to wish it was. She wanted to--well, to see him. She hadn't dropped in on him lately, and they hadn't even gone on a date since that disastrous French lunch movie. Buffy shoved away the guilt that thought provoked. Tonight was about fun.

And, really, Faith was miles ahead of Angel in the having-fun category.

Buffy felt the jangle of her vamp-alarm and opened her eyes, searching for the source of the sudden tension low in her stomach. Faith was looking, too, but she didn't pause in her dancing--if anything, her movements became even sexier. She was perfectly happy seducing the undead before staking them. Buffy twisted around, peering into the dark corners of the room, wondering where the danger was.

Angel was standing in the shadow of one of the pillars, watching her with a frown on his face, his shoulders hunched. As soon as he noticed that she'd seen him, he moved as though to leave. Buffy rushed across the floor, dismissing the boys who'd glommed on to her during the dance.

She jumped up on Angel, wrapping her legs around his waist and locking her ankles. "Hey! You're not leaving, are you?"

Angel glanced over at Faith. "I saw you making friends."

She clasped her hands behind his neck. "I like you." She leaned in for a kiss, the coldness of his lips and tongue contrasting sharply with her pent-up heat. Her body was going crazy, the scratchy-twitch of her Slayer part demanding that she kill it kill it killit killitkillit, the pre-slay adrenaline flooding through her, mingling with the damp ache between her legs. Buffy gripped him tighter with her thighs, deliberately humping him right here in the middle of the BronzShe She felt him stir against her crotch and did it again. He was getting harder, but he stopped cooperating in the kiss and dropped his arms from around her waist, so that only her strength kept her clinging to him.

"You're not afraid of little old me, are you?" she asked.

"Buffy..." He was frowning fiercely at the air beside her left ear, his voice strained. "You know I can't..."

"I can sense this is a business trip." With a pout and a sigh, she released her legs and slid down him, feeling his erection pressed against her stomach.

Angel stepped back. "We'd better sit down."

Buffy turned her back on him and headed for the couches. Angel followed her, and she tried to bury the feeling that a vampire was creeping up on her. What the hell was going on with her Slayer instincts? Angel always set off her vamp-dar, but never this much. Her goddamn spidey sense couldn't tell good from evil, just vamps from humans, and right now that was doing more harm than good. Her stomach was doing flips, and she wished she were holding a stake--and it was just Angel.

Angel dragging along his matched set of emotional baggage. What did he think, that she didn't know exactly what the risks were if she asked him to--well--help her out? She wasn't ignorant. She knew damn well there were things they could do that wouldn't make him too happy. Hanging out with Faith was an education and a half as far as that went. But what could she do? Just grab him and whisper in his ear exactly what she wanted?

She snuggled next to him on the couch and wondered if she had the nerve. Faith would. Hell, Faith could probably give Angel pointers. Heat surged through her at the thought. Okay, she could admit it, she was horny. One dance, one kiss, an afternoon of some pretty intense slaying, and she was ready to jump out of her skin.

Before she could say anything, Angel shifted to the far end of the couch. "It's Balthazar," he said.

"Dead demon," she answered. Faith was dancing with some random guy now, hanging off his neck, her head thrown back as she rode his thigh. Angel could be carved out of some broody rock for all it looked like he cared about being here. "We have his amulet."

"He's not as dead as you think," Angel said. "Word on the street puts him in the packing warehouse on Devereau. I spoke to Giles, but he said you gave the amulet to someone."

"Ah-ha!" Wesley stepped in front of them, hands on his hips. "There you are!"

Buffy leaned sideways so she could see the dance floor behind him. Faith was practically raping that scrawny idiot she was dancing with.

"...and I think we ought to establish that if you're going out slaying, you leave me a number at which I can con you you."

Buffy glanced up at Wesley. She seized him by the lapel and yanked him closer, ignoring his girly shriek. She pulled the amulet out of his pocket.

"Walking around with that thing is like wearing a target," Angel said.

"I'll keep it safe...actually safe," Buffy said, with an irritated look at Wesley.

"It might be better if I took it," Angel said. He sounded like he was trying to reason with a two year-old.

Fury slid through her, and Buffy clenched her fists around the amulet, feeling the diamonds digging into her skin. "You don't think I can handle it?" she said sweetly.

Angel's lips thinned with anger. "You've been acting reckless lately," he said.

Buffy glared at him. "Reckless?"

He refused to meet her gaze. "Not like yourself." He paused, scowling at the dance floor. "More like Faith."

Fury boiled over, but Buffy refused to let it show in her voice. "I'll do some recon on Balthazar."

Wesley looked back and forth between them. "If I may...Balthazar is dead. Am I the only one who remembers that?"

They both ignored him. Angel stood up. "I'll tell Giles where you're going, then I'll join you."

"Don't rush on my account."

"Buffy..." Angel sighed. "Why torture ourselves when we know what a loss of control would mean?"

Buffy stared at him for a moment, then brushed past him to grab Faith off the dance floor. She felt him leave out the front door by the fading ping of her vamp-dar. Did it never occur to him that maybe she'd like to lose control for once? She wasn't the one who had to worry--her soul was firmly attached. This afternoon in the sewers she'd nearly let herself be carried away, losing herself in the slaying. Hours later and she was still on the knife-edge of the struggle, the killing-need and the hot crashing want of the dance balanced against the sensible good-girl she was supposed to be.

And at this rate she was going to be that sensible supposed-to-be person forever.

Well, fuck that.

"Faith!" she yelled over the music. "We gotta go!"

Faith grinned at her, still hanging off her partner's neck. Buffy grabbed her by her free arm and gave a half-serious yank to detach them. The guy protested, but Faith only waved and said, "Call me!"

Buffy shouldered her way through the throng, pulling Faith by the hand even after she started following voluntarily. They stepped out into the relative cool of the alley and Buffy dropped Faith's hand, trying to shake the tingles. She paced while Faith leaned back against the door and lit a cigarette.

"You doing okay, girlfriend?" she asked. "You're looking tense."

Buffy wanted to jump up and down to get rid of some of the excess energy that Angel's appearance had caused. Instead she kicked a trashcan, nearly putting her foot through its side and sending it crashing into a wall twenty feet away. "I'm fine."

Faith nodded and blew a smoke ring. "Okay, no big, I was just asking. So what's the what?"

"Balthazar's still alive. We're going to take a look."

"Just a look?"

Buffy whirled around. How could Faith be so calm after all this--the slaying, and the dancing, and--and everything? Why was she suddenly the one who couldn't stay still for two seconds? But the tip of Faith's cigarette was wobbling, and she was smiling like she couldn't stop, her eyes gleaming underneath the kohl-dark makeup and the alley's shadows. She took another drag, her breath coming in a quick, shuddery sigh.

"Yeah. Just a look," Buffy said. "We're not going to do anything reckless."

"I shoulda known," Faith said.

"What the hell's that supposed to mean?"

Faith shrugged and pitched her butt in a shower of sparks. "Just that you're all about the window-shopping, B."

"We'd need more fire power than none," Buffy said, trying to hold down the rage that kept wanting to take her over. She did not need any of Faith's insinuations. Not now. "And Angel's going to join us later."

"Who-fucking-hoo," Faith said. "Let's motor, then."

Buffy led the way to Devereau, not paying anymore attention to their route than necessary. She couldn't think--she was too busy playing over her conversation with Angel, and it blurred in her head, cut through with the static of her stupid (kill it) vamp alarm.

Faith touched her arm and she nearly answered with an instinctive punch. She caught herself at the last instant, and Faith smiled faintly.

"Check it out, B," she said, pointing. "That is too good."

Buffy raised an eyebrow at the sign that read Meyer's Sport and Tackle. "You're not seriously going to..."

Faith was already across the street. With a powerful kick, she shattered the main display window and climbed in through the sharded glass. Buffy stayed where she was, paralyzed. She hated the itchy danger-feel of being without a stake, but she'd meant for this to be recon only. She knew she was too close to the edge, and if she got her hands on a weapon then there would be no more excuses, no more holding back.

You've been acting reckless lately.

"When are you gonna get this, B?" Faith called, appearing at the window with a long-bow in her hands. "Life for a Slayer is very simple: want...take...have."

Want.

Buffy walked across the street and ducked under the slivered remains of the plate glass window. Faith grinned at her, already tucking a pair of nunchucks into her pants.

Take.

The knife case shone under the display lights. Buffy stepped up to it, and her fist shot out before she was aware, smashing the glass and catching the knife as it fell.

Have.

"Now how about slaying that Baltha-whatzit?" Faith asked. "New Olympic category? Most dead vamps in one day."

You haven't been acting like yourself...more like Faith..

Buffy stared at the knife in her hand. "Tomorrow...we'll have Giles and maybe even Willow--she's got these protection spells she wants to try..."

"Fuck that," Faith said. "You want to put 'em in danger? You said Angel was gonna back us up."

We know what a loss of control would mean...

Buffy gripped the knife's handle. "Are there more of those arrows?"

Police sirens wailed in the distance, getting closer.

"Come on, B, let's get out of here," Faith said. She grabbed Buffy's hand and hauled her out, running back to the shadows of the alley across the street.

Buffy looked back once, to see two cops drawing guns as they entered the store. Then she was running at Faith's side, the knife's grip steady in her sweaty palm. There was no guilt--there was only the Slayer. She matched Faith's stride, tried to pull ahead, but neither one could outrace the other. Excitement thrummed through her, like a dance beat, like lightning; electric and terrifying and something she was finally ready to move with. A hot spurt of sparks swept over her every time Faith brushed against her. In all the world, there was only the two of them, hot and quick and real, want meeting want.

Buffy's spidey sense jarred her an instant before the first vampire dropped down from the fire escape above them. There was no thought before action: she and Faith moved in tandem, kicking his feet out from under him and slamming an arrow into his chest a second later. Faith was laughing, breathless, as the breeze whipped the dust away, and Buffy found herself doing the same. This felt good; this felt right; and Faith's eyes were wide and dark and Buffy could nearly count her heartbeats by the pulse jumping in her throat.

"If they keep coming one at a time this is gonna be a piece of cake," Faith said, bouncing on her toes and making mock-thrusts with her arrow.

Buffy nodded, took a deep breath, smelling the sea and the stink of the packing plant and the gravedust of the dead vamp. "Next one's mine," she challenged, and sprinted off down the alley, Faith at her heels.

The next vamp came at them faster, the third and fourth attacked together, the fifth got in a lucky kick to her ribs that nearly knocked her wind out. Buffy's body buzzed with the constant sense of vampires lurking. She'd just staked the sixth when a hand landed on her shoulder, and she automatically bent over and yanked the arm, sending another vampire flying into a dumpster. Faith raised her arrow and plunged it down towards the vamp's chest when Buffy saw his face.

"Faith! No!" she yelled.

Too late.

The dust seemed to erupt in slow motion, starting where Faith's stake plunged into his heart, expanding in a clogging storm of powder, skin and then skeleton exploding into nothingness, and the last thing Buffy saw was the agonized look on Angel's face before he died.


*

To be continued.