Smitten

Chapter Six

Sickened by the season, I am smitten with you.
Saddled with this treason, I am smitten with you.
Smitten, by Bree Sharp

All I want, all I want is to hold you
Instead I hold my breath.

*

They were both quiet as they left Buffy's house, carrying enough weapons between them to make up an arsenal. Tonight, there would be no breaking and entering, no stealing, no hot, sweaty--well, nothing that happened last night. Tonight, they'd get in to Balthazar's warehouse, slay, go home, and act as if everything was fine.

Buffy wasn't sure when she was going to stop playing make-believe with herself. She didn't know what was worse--that it was so easy to imagine that her life could go on as normal without Angel, or that she was starting to wonder whether she was pretending at all. Maybe Faith was real and Angel was the lie; maybe she wasn't the person she thought she was. Maybe she was only the Slayer, and she'd been holding herself back. Was still holding herself back.

But she didn't want to let go of whatever normalness she had left. Boyfriend. That was normal. Okay, souled undead two hundred year old boyfriend, less normal--but somehow giving up on the idea of boy-meets-girl-happily-ever-after love and exchanging it for the girl strutting ahead of her like she owned the shadows...it made her heart freeze, then start up again double time. Remembering the heat of her kiss, the rough-gentle touch of hardened fingers on her breast, the--

She still hadn't had any release. Two dayse sle slaying, the dancing, Faith's body on top of hers, that kiss...the look on Faith's face as she came, fierce and shuddering and sucking on her neck like she was the last drink of water in the desert...

Buffy shook herself. This would not be about the slay-lust. Not tonight. Control. Concentrate--

Faith's confident stride faltered for a moment, then she took off in another direction, picking a side street that went out of their way. Buffy opened her mouth to ask why, then realized Faith was detouring them around the alley--that alley. Tears sprang to her eyes and she bit down on a breath that might have been a sob. She'd hurt Faith so badly there. Not just the fading bruises like green-yellow fingerprints, over Faith's tattoo, that she'd seen when Faith took off her jacket. Those were nothing to a Slayer. But Buffy knew she could never go back to that alley without remembering how she'd attacked Faith, offering her body to be used if only she could use Faith too--and for Faith, that was worse.

Not like this. Never again like this.

What did that mean?

And who was she grieving for?

Not Angel.

How could you cry for dust when you had hurt someone living so much worse? Buffy ran an angry hand over her cheeks, pushing away the tears, and hurried her steps for a moment until she was walking beside Faith, close enough that their sides brushed together. Buffychedched for Faith's hand, taking it in hers, feeling the shivers that she called the Slayer connection. Another lie. She'd never felt this with Kendra. It was just so much easier to have a mystical explanation when she didn't want to admit that what she was feeling was attraction. Faith had once claimed that she'd felt it too, the tingle-hum of their touch, and since she'd never met another slayer, how could she know? The lie was easier, had been easier. Buffy kept her eyes on her feet, wondering if Faith would pull away. She was half-aware that she was drawing idle patterns on the back of Faith's hand with her thumb, feeling the softness that was such a contrast to her callused palm.

Faith didn't look at her, but she allowed their hands to stay clasped, their fingers linked. They still said nothing, but the silence felt easier. They reached Devereau without meeting any vampires, and Buffy calculated that with the six or so they'd staked in the sewers, as well as those they'd fought last night, Balthazar didn't have enough minions left to stand a competent guard. She was just beginning to think they could reach the warehouse without a fight, when a figure stepped from the shadows.

There was no warning, not a single twitch of her vamp alarm, but Buffy had a stake in her hand before he took another step. She noticed, though, that she'd used her free hand, not willing to let Faith slip away even for this.

"Slayers?" The voice was hesitant, nervous.

"And what if we are?" Faith asked. She stopped in her tracks, her hand moving inside her jacket to touch the handle of the knife Buffy had stolen yesterday. Buffy refused to carry it, but Faith had convinced her it was no good returning to the scene of the crime. Reparations would have to wait.

The shadows shifted, and a man stepped out into the streetlight. His adam's apple bobbed convulsively, and he licked his lips, flinching and looking over his shoulder at every sound. Sweat beaded his upper lip. "If you are, I've come to find you," he said. "I--I have information. Valuable."

"Sorry, pal, we were just on our way to another party," Faith said. "If you know us, you can damn well wait to talk until tomorrow. Right now, the Slayers gotta slay."

"No--I can't--I'm, I--he'll kill me--and, I can help you. Now. Tonight." He twitched again, ready to bolt, as they heard a trashcan falling over, and some drunk's faraway yell.

Buffy shifted impatiently, but Faith squeezed her hand, and she sighed. "You have a name?"

"I'm, uh, Alan Finch. The--the Deputy Mayor."

Faith snorted. "And you figure that means something to us?"

Alan straightened. "You don't know about--" He stopped. "Promise you'll protect me. Promise he won't get to me, I--he's, uh--"

Buffy glanced at Faith's stony expression, then pressed her hand in return before going forward to meet Alan. "Who do you need protection from?"

"The Mayor," Alan whispered, his eyes darting back again, as if he thought they'd be overheard in the deserted alley. "He's, I can't tell you, not unless you promise me--"

"Okay, we promise, we'll keep you safe," Buffy said, ignoring Faith's skeptical look.

"He's evil."

"So are a lot of people," Faith said with a dismissive shrug.

"I can--I know his plans. He's going to become a pure demon, destroy the city. Y-you need me."

"And we should trust you why?" Buffy asked.

"I can prove it," Alan said. "If you need to trust me...I can tell you, tonight, you're fighting Balthazar. And he has your Watcher."

"Giles?" Buffy asked. Fear grabbed her with cold fingers.

Alan nodded. "Him, too. The Eliminati kidnapped them from your school library."

Buffy turned to Faith. "We need to get there. Now."

Faith nodded. "And this guy?"

"We have to keep him safe." Buffy shrugged. "It's been too long since the last apocalypse, I knew it." She looked back at Alan. "You'll have to come with us."

Alan nodded, and gave a sickly grin. "I don't think it will work...you probably can't stop him...but--" He shrugged. "At least when he eats us I'll know I did the right thing. That's comforting, don't you think?"

"One big old ray of sunshine," Faith said. "Let's get going." She prodded Alan into walking ahead of them.

Buffy slipped back into her spot at Faith's side. She wanted to hold her hand again, but with Alan there, she didn't know if she'd be rejected. Tentatively, she held out her fingers, stroking Faith's arm. Faith looked down at their hands, quickly, then looked around the alley as if she were scouting for danger, but she took Buffy's hand and held it. It felt so good--secure, comforting; and it was more than just the warmth of Faith's skin. It was the fact that she'd allowed the touch.

Buffy was keeping most of her senses alert for anything that might be sneaking up on them, and for Alan Finch--because snitches were not to be trusted, no matter what information they claimed to have--but at the same time, she was intensely aware of Faith's nearness. Yesterday's wild abandon was gone, replaced by something equally passionate, but more controlled. This desire was hers, and it was about time she realized it. Acknowledged it.

Alan stopped abruptly, interrupting her thoughts. "This is it," he said.

"Let's take a look," Buffy said, staring up at the dirty windows, looking for the best way up.

Faith gave her an unnecessary boost up on to the boxes, and if her hands lingered on Buffy's ankle too long, then now was not the time to be thinking about it. Faith leaped up beside her. Buffy wiped a clean spot in one glass pane, and she and Faith peered in.

Giles and Wesley were tied together and guarded by a few vamps, being interrogated by a grossly obese thing in a bath of god knew what. Buffy made a face. "We got five vamps and one demon in serious need of a Stair Master," she said. "If we can free Giles, he can take two. The annoying guy will probably get in the way. Three for us is no problem, but I'm worried about melted-wax guy."

"He has telekinetic powers," Alan said, from where he was huddling in the spaces between the crates. "And if he gets his hands on the amulet, he'll have worse than that."

"You still got it?" Faith asked.

Buffy nodded. "He doesn't need to know that, though." She gave a shaky sigh and glanced back inside. Balthazar was screaming something about kneecaps. "Okay. We have to--"

"Wait," Faith said. Buffy felt the press of her hand and felt her knees nearly give out. Faith had reached for her. "Buffy..."

She called me Buffy... She looked into Faith's eyes, saw worry there, tenderness. When had that happened? God, she wanted to kiss her. She could feel the Slayer stirring inside her, the slow calm spreading from Faith's hand struggling against the hard pulse of want.

"You have the fucker's amulet, you shouldn't be in this fight," Faith said. "We can't let him get it, right? That's kinda the whole point."

"You're not doing this alone," Buffy shot back. What if Faith were hurt--or worse-- "And I can't let--I mean, I need to do this, too." She looked down, saw their hands, and turned her head away. This couldn't be about the Slayer. Not if she wanted it to work out, for them to stay together.

Oh, God. Is that what she wanted?

What about Angel? Was that love?

If it was, then what was this?

Fuck, she wanted to slay.

Faith frowned. "And what about double-agent guy?" she asked. "How long's he going to stay safe if we're both off getting killed? You need to get him to Giles, see what he says."

Balthazar screamed, and Buffy jerked her hand away from Faith to check her weapons. She felt Faith tense and knew she had wrecked the moment. Again.

Why couldn't she do the right thing, for once? What would it take?

Control.

Buffy forced herself to meet Faith's eyes. "I don't want you to get hurt."

Faith shrugged, the bad-girl image back in place. "It's a little late for that."

"I meant, I don't want you to get dead," Buffy said. She took Faith's wrist in her hand. She didn't grab, she didn't hold tight, and her fingers were light and cool against the hot pounding of Faith's pulse. Faith lowered her arm. Buffy didn't let go.

"What the fuck do you care?" Faith whispered. "You don't care."

Buffy shook her head helplessly. "I do," she said. Her fingers traced fever paths on Faith's skin.

Faith yanked her arm back, jerking Buffy towards her, off-balance. She fell into Faith, and Faith kissed her, hard. Buffy returned the kiss, not caring whose teeth got in the way. Only caring about how easily Faith's tongue made her forget herself, how warm the night felt now, when before it had been so cold. She swallowed Faith's grunt when she bit down on her bottom lip, and whimpered when Faith returned the favour. They didn't hold each other, didn't trap each other with a bodies too strong for themselves, and Buffy wanted the kiss to go on forever because it felt like all she had left.

When Faith wrenched away from Buffy's lips, a thin line of blood, darker red than her lipstick, stained her mouth. "That's what you fucking care about," she spat, and jumped down off the crates. She threw a disgusted look at Alan, and walked around the front of the warehouse.

"I can take 'em, hard and fast and now," Faith said, almost to herself, but Buffy could hear every word.

She wanted to call out, "Wait! Stop! Think!" but she was frozen. She saw Angel's face crumpling into dust, she saw Faith, drugged with passion, coming as she leaned into her shoulder.

The Slayer said, Want. Take. Have.

Buffy clenched her fists, crouched on the crates, said nothing. Control.

It's like I let go and became this force. I just didn't care anymore.

Faith looked up at her, once, for the last time. Buffy closed her eyes.

I want to care.

I'm afraid.

"Who has my amulet?" Balthazar shrieked. "Give me the name!"

Faith's boot connected with the door. It splintered and crashed off its hinges, silhouetting her in the light spilling from the building.

"The name is Faith," she said, and walked inside.

Alone.



*

To be continued.