Love Is Blind ~ Fuffy ~ Complete to Part 5
folder
-Buffy the Vampire Slayer › FemmeSlash - Female/Female › Buffy/Faith
Rating:
Adult ++
Chapters:
5
Views:
3,996
Reviews:
14
Recommended:
1
Currently Reading:
1
Category:
-Buffy the Vampire Slayer › FemmeSlash - Female/Female › Buffy/Faith
Rating:
Adult ++
Chapters:
5
Views:
3,996
Reviews:
14
Recommended:
1
Currently Reading:
1
Disclaimer:
I do not own Buffy the Vampire Slayer (BtVS), nor any of the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.
Love Is Blind ~ Fuffy ~ Complete to Part 5
//Part 1//
The room is too warm for this time of night.
“It’s not good enough.” He repeats firmly as I tilt my head to the side and lick my full lips with calculated persuasion.
Thick and tangible shadows weave across the dirtied walls, threatening to close in on me as his silence and my one remaining weapon, the only weapon I’ve ever really had at all, begin their familiar encounter.
I take another step towards him, allowing my hand to drift onto the waist of his seen-better-centuries jeans. I thread my index finger through one of the tattered belt loops, pulling him roughly into me.
“I’m sure we could work something out.” I purr softly as he dips his haggard face and runs a plump finger down my collarbone. “We always do, right?” He exhales noisily, his heavy boots scuffing on the worn carpet as he shifts his heavy weight awkwardly.
I don’t get off on this, if that’s what you think, there just isn’t any other way.
“I can’t do this anymore.” There’s a pause as his stubby finger comes to rest above my cleavage, and then slowly withdraws as he stands back. “The boss, you know, he ain’t happy.”
“So? Screw him!” I exclaim desperately, my hands flying into my hair as I begin to pace anxiously.
“Pay up or get out.”
I have nothing to give him, nothing like the money I owe him at any rate.
“You know what, fuck you!” I shout. “Fuck you and fuck this motel room to hell!”
“You did, babe, remember?” He smirks, making his greasy features wrinkle and distort in the dim light. I close my eyes in disgust. “Take what you want and get out. I’ll give you ten minutes.”
Ten minutes? Even screwing a loser like him takes longer than that!
I turn round helplessly, my eyes searching the room for something I couldn’t possibly live without, something worth taking away from this shit hole. I have nothing, nothing worth losing any more face for anyway.
“Screw you.” I spit and with that I shove him out of my way, onto the bed, and make my exit, leaving behind everything I’ve ever known.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Shit.
The reality of the situation doesn’t really hit me until I’m a coupla blocks away, and boy, does it ever hit me.
There’s no way I can ever go back there now! Shit, shit, shit! You’ve been in some fucked up situations before, Faith, but this one takes the mother fuckin’ prize! No place to stay, no change of clothes, do I even have…?
I pat my jacket pocket.
Oh thank God! I have cigarettes! So things coulda been a hell’ov a lot worse all things considered.
Suddenly there’s a sharp jab to my left shoulder, I spin round, fists at the ready.
“Whoa, jumpy much?” She questions cheerfully, I shrug. “Sorry I’m late! Mom’s going out of town tonight and she cooked this big over-compensatory meal thing. So, are you ready to kick some un-dead ass?”
Sometimes when she talks about her Mom I can’t help but feel a little jealous, I mean sure, my Mother was a hopeless alcoholic with about as much moral sense as a dormouse on acid, but she was still mine, ya know? I didn’t wish her dead. Well, not out loud anyway.
“Faith, is everything okay?” I immediately sober up and plaster a grin on my face, pushing tonight and pretty much the last seventeen years of my life deep down inside me. “You know if you ever need to talk…”
”Ready is my middle name, B.” I affirm quickly. “You wanna hit Restfield? I hear there’s some quality nesting going on.”
“You just wanna stop at that rib place again!” She giggles, giving me a playful punch.
Damn, she figured that out, huh?
“Well, you know what slaying does to me; we may as well work around it, right?”
“I guess!”
”And it’s your shout tonight, yeah?” I continue; my stomach rumbling in anticipation. “I’m thinking a big plate of BBQ ribs with fries and a coke. Oh, and maybe some of those little chicken things.”
“Sounds expensive, can’t you just have a salad?” Buffy falls in step beside me, and I revel in how easy it is to forget the bad stuff around her. Well, to almost forget.
“You know, I nearly called you earlier actually. Got something I need your advice on.” I try to keep my tone light, try to pretend everything’s okay, but she knows me way better than that.
“What’s wrong, Faith?” She turns to me, staring up into my large and dark eyes. My arms fall heavily at my sides and I find myself drawing an unnecessary breath.
It’s not hard to tell someone you got kicked out, is it? Shouldn’t be at any rate, but my tongue feels thick and solid, like if I try and speak nothing’s gonna come out anyway. I search her concerned expression helplessly, her green eyes swirl, flashing grey and hazel in the moonlight.
“You can tell me anything.” She whispers, her hand reaching out tenderly to squeeze mine. My jaw locks stubbornly as I snatch my hand back, trying to ignore the warmth her skin has left on mine and the way my body responds, so unaware of how impossible it all is.
“It’s just,” I flinch and shake my head, “I just wanted to ask you, if…”
”Faith, just ask me. Whatever it is, just say it.” Her voice is firm and gives me no reason to doubt her, but for some reason I always do.
“I just don’t know,” I smile weakly at myself, releasing an earthy laugh, “I don’t know if I should have the combination platter. I mean, uh, you get roasted chicken and ribs with it and this nice sauce, and mash potatoes!”
“That’s it, that’s what you wanted to ask me?” She asks incredulously, I shrug again and search for my usual patter.
“Yeah, it’s been buggin’ me all night! So what do you think I should do?”
”ARGH! Sometimes, Faith, I just…” Buffy trails off and rubs her face wearily. “Forget it.”
“Consider it forgotten!” I respond cheekily, she rolls her eyes and storms into the distance. “Hey, wait up!” I call, hurrying after her, my heavy boots clunking against the cold paving slabs. “Does this mean you’re not gonna buy me dinner?”
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
I release a large sigh as Buffy hops onto a tombstone and pulls out her plastic red yoyo. We’ve been patrolling for half an hour already and she’s not uttered one word about my combination platter. In fact, she’s not uttered one word full stop. Buffy’s giving me the silent treatment.
What a jip. You know I wouldn’t even be here if it weren’t for her addictive hold on me and the free food, the free food which I’m usually offered without question, but tonight, what does she want, for me to beg? I won’t beg, ever, even if I don’t have any money or a place to stay.
I don’t want her pity.
I reach pointedly for my pack of cigarettes; knowing she’s watching my every move.
No doubt she’ll have something to say about me smoking, as usual. ‘Oh Faith, that’s just so wrong! Don’t you know that 1,205 people die in the US from diseases related to smoking?’ Newsflash, Buffy, did you know that ALL slayers die? If you ask me, smokin’ is the best way to go, beats getting your head chopped off or your blood sucked any day.
I light up slowly, my left hand shielding the waning flame of my lighter from the cold Sunnydale winds. Great night to start sleeping rough, I muse.
Hey, maybe if I smoke and glare long enough she’ll cave and if she does, WHEN she does, I’m definitely getting the combo platter. Mmm!
“Faith, you really shouldn’t be doing that.”
Here she goes, didn’t I tell you?
“Shouldn’t be doin’ what, B?” I question sweetly before taking another huge drag. “This? Why, you got a statistic you wanna share?”
No sooner have the words left my mouth that I feel a tight force surround my abdomen, I look down in shock, my eyes widening at the sight of the bristled green claws and thick knuckles that sprout ugly black hairs. Instinctively I drop my cigarette and release a small yelp, the demon growls, or perhaps even purrs in anticipation, as it hauls me off the ground and into the bitter night air.
“Buffy!” I yell, as the demon rotates my helpless body and begins to clutch at my throat. I struggle to breathe, my arms and legs flailing furiously as I search for some leverage but find nothing.
“Sorry, did you say something? Is there something you wanna tell me? Is it about the combination platter?” Buffy taunts, I scowl and give her the finger before I’m ploughed backwards into a nearby tree.
I bite my lip to keep from screaming as at least one of my ribs snaps under the pressure of the beast’s straining body. Black, oozing liquid begins to trickle from its mouth; I grimace and fight the urge to retch there and then. The feeling within me is overpowering, the need to get as far away from this thing as fast as possible, but my body is wedged tight.
“Fuck!” I moan, as I squirm and buck desperately. The movement only seems to spur the demon onwards, it swipes at my cheek, insisting stillness upon me, as the skin tears so easily and bleeds angry and red. “You son of a-”
“Hey, don’t you want a piece of me?” Buffy interrupts, the top of her head just coming into view over the demon’s sizeable green shoulder. I watch with mixed relief and foreboding as she raises her axe and starts to swing.
The demon’s head comes clean off and more of that thick black substance begins to erupt from the neck, spurting into the dark sky, onto my clothes and in just about every other direction. I find it within myself somehow to scream for Buffy to get out the way, the demon’s body goes limp, releasing me from my hold, but not before a powerful shot of its blood surges straight into my wide and fearful eyes.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Above me the tree’s leaves whisper, softly nudging each other as the wind catches beneath them and tempts them to fall.
I writhe on the ground, my hands covering my eyes as I rub at the thick sludge. The stinging is unbearable, my hands are beginning to shake with frustration and panic as my fingers just seem to knit together with dried blood and gunk, becoming more and more useless.
I hear her feet running over the crisp grass, coming closer to me, her voice calling nervously and asking me if I’m okay. She falls to my side with a thud, her cool hands clasping at my frantic arms.
“I can’t get it off me!” I shout over and over, as my hands slide over my oval face recklessly.
Immediately her calm hands replace mine, sculpting the contours of my face as she attempts to clean it of the consuming darkness. I strain to see something, anything, even the edge of a shadow or the blur of a distant star in the night sky, but all I can hear is the shallow rasp of my own breath and all I can see is nothing.
The room is too warm for this time of night.
“It’s not good enough.” He repeats firmly as I tilt my head to the side and lick my full lips with calculated persuasion.
Thick and tangible shadows weave across the dirtied walls, threatening to close in on me as his silence and my one remaining weapon, the only weapon I’ve ever really had at all, begin their familiar encounter.
I take another step towards him, allowing my hand to drift onto the waist of his seen-better-centuries jeans. I thread my index finger through one of the tattered belt loops, pulling him roughly into me.
“I’m sure we could work something out.” I purr softly as he dips his haggard face and runs a plump finger down my collarbone. “We always do, right?” He exhales noisily, his heavy boots scuffing on the worn carpet as he shifts his heavy weight awkwardly.
I don’t get off on this, if that’s what you think, there just isn’t any other way.
“I can’t do this anymore.” There’s a pause as his stubby finger comes to rest above my cleavage, and then slowly withdraws as he stands back. “The boss, you know, he ain’t happy.”
“So? Screw him!” I exclaim desperately, my hands flying into my hair as I begin to pace anxiously.
“Pay up or get out.”
I have nothing to give him, nothing like the money I owe him at any rate.
“You know what, fuck you!” I shout. “Fuck you and fuck this motel room to hell!”
“You did, babe, remember?” He smirks, making his greasy features wrinkle and distort in the dim light. I close my eyes in disgust. “Take what you want and get out. I’ll give you ten minutes.”
Ten minutes? Even screwing a loser like him takes longer than that!
I turn round helplessly, my eyes searching the room for something I couldn’t possibly live without, something worth taking away from this shit hole. I have nothing, nothing worth losing any more face for anyway.
“Screw you.” I spit and with that I shove him out of my way, onto the bed, and make my exit, leaving behind everything I’ve ever known.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Shit.
The reality of the situation doesn’t really hit me until I’m a coupla blocks away, and boy, does it ever hit me.
There’s no way I can ever go back there now! Shit, shit, shit! You’ve been in some fucked up situations before, Faith, but this one takes the mother fuckin’ prize! No place to stay, no change of clothes, do I even have…?
I pat my jacket pocket.
Oh thank God! I have cigarettes! So things coulda been a hell’ov a lot worse all things considered.
Suddenly there’s a sharp jab to my left shoulder, I spin round, fists at the ready.
“Whoa, jumpy much?” She questions cheerfully, I shrug. “Sorry I’m late! Mom’s going out of town tonight and she cooked this big over-compensatory meal thing. So, are you ready to kick some un-dead ass?”
Sometimes when she talks about her Mom I can’t help but feel a little jealous, I mean sure, my Mother was a hopeless alcoholic with about as much moral sense as a dormouse on acid, but she was still mine, ya know? I didn’t wish her dead. Well, not out loud anyway.
“Faith, is everything okay?” I immediately sober up and plaster a grin on my face, pushing tonight and pretty much the last seventeen years of my life deep down inside me. “You know if you ever need to talk…”
”Ready is my middle name, B.” I affirm quickly. “You wanna hit Restfield? I hear there’s some quality nesting going on.”
“You just wanna stop at that rib place again!” She giggles, giving me a playful punch.
Damn, she figured that out, huh?
“Well, you know what slaying does to me; we may as well work around it, right?”
“I guess!”
”And it’s your shout tonight, yeah?” I continue; my stomach rumbling in anticipation. “I’m thinking a big plate of BBQ ribs with fries and a coke. Oh, and maybe some of those little chicken things.”
“Sounds expensive, can’t you just have a salad?” Buffy falls in step beside me, and I revel in how easy it is to forget the bad stuff around her. Well, to almost forget.
“You know, I nearly called you earlier actually. Got something I need your advice on.” I try to keep my tone light, try to pretend everything’s okay, but she knows me way better than that.
“What’s wrong, Faith?” She turns to me, staring up into my large and dark eyes. My arms fall heavily at my sides and I find myself drawing an unnecessary breath.
It’s not hard to tell someone you got kicked out, is it? Shouldn’t be at any rate, but my tongue feels thick and solid, like if I try and speak nothing’s gonna come out anyway. I search her concerned expression helplessly, her green eyes swirl, flashing grey and hazel in the moonlight.
“You can tell me anything.” She whispers, her hand reaching out tenderly to squeeze mine. My jaw locks stubbornly as I snatch my hand back, trying to ignore the warmth her skin has left on mine and the way my body responds, so unaware of how impossible it all is.
“It’s just,” I flinch and shake my head, “I just wanted to ask you, if…”
”Faith, just ask me. Whatever it is, just say it.” Her voice is firm and gives me no reason to doubt her, but for some reason I always do.
“I just don’t know,” I smile weakly at myself, releasing an earthy laugh, “I don’t know if I should have the combination platter. I mean, uh, you get roasted chicken and ribs with it and this nice sauce, and mash potatoes!”
“That’s it, that’s what you wanted to ask me?” She asks incredulously, I shrug again and search for my usual patter.
“Yeah, it’s been buggin’ me all night! So what do you think I should do?”
”ARGH! Sometimes, Faith, I just…” Buffy trails off and rubs her face wearily. “Forget it.”
“Consider it forgotten!” I respond cheekily, she rolls her eyes and storms into the distance. “Hey, wait up!” I call, hurrying after her, my heavy boots clunking against the cold paving slabs. “Does this mean you’re not gonna buy me dinner?”
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
I release a large sigh as Buffy hops onto a tombstone and pulls out her plastic red yoyo. We’ve been patrolling for half an hour already and she’s not uttered one word about my combination platter. In fact, she’s not uttered one word full stop. Buffy’s giving me the silent treatment.
What a jip. You know I wouldn’t even be here if it weren’t for her addictive hold on me and the free food, the free food which I’m usually offered without question, but tonight, what does she want, for me to beg? I won’t beg, ever, even if I don’t have any money or a place to stay.
I don’t want her pity.
I reach pointedly for my pack of cigarettes; knowing she’s watching my every move.
No doubt she’ll have something to say about me smoking, as usual. ‘Oh Faith, that’s just so wrong! Don’t you know that 1,205 people die in the US from diseases related to smoking?’ Newsflash, Buffy, did you know that ALL slayers die? If you ask me, smokin’ is the best way to go, beats getting your head chopped off or your blood sucked any day.
I light up slowly, my left hand shielding the waning flame of my lighter from the cold Sunnydale winds. Great night to start sleeping rough, I muse.
Hey, maybe if I smoke and glare long enough she’ll cave and if she does, WHEN she does, I’m definitely getting the combo platter. Mmm!
“Faith, you really shouldn’t be doing that.”
Here she goes, didn’t I tell you?
“Shouldn’t be doin’ what, B?” I question sweetly before taking another huge drag. “This? Why, you got a statistic you wanna share?”
No sooner have the words left my mouth that I feel a tight force surround my abdomen, I look down in shock, my eyes widening at the sight of the bristled green claws and thick knuckles that sprout ugly black hairs. Instinctively I drop my cigarette and release a small yelp, the demon growls, or perhaps even purrs in anticipation, as it hauls me off the ground and into the bitter night air.
“Buffy!” I yell, as the demon rotates my helpless body and begins to clutch at my throat. I struggle to breathe, my arms and legs flailing furiously as I search for some leverage but find nothing.
“Sorry, did you say something? Is there something you wanna tell me? Is it about the combination platter?” Buffy taunts, I scowl and give her the finger before I’m ploughed backwards into a nearby tree.
I bite my lip to keep from screaming as at least one of my ribs snaps under the pressure of the beast’s straining body. Black, oozing liquid begins to trickle from its mouth; I grimace and fight the urge to retch there and then. The feeling within me is overpowering, the need to get as far away from this thing as fast as possible, but my body is wedged tight.
“Fuck!” I moan, as I squirm and buck desperately. The movement only seems to spur the demon onwards, it swipes at my cheek, insisting stillness upon me, as the skin tears so easily and bleeds angry and red. “You son of a-”
“Hey, don’t you want a piece of me?” Buffy interrupts, the top of her head just coming into view over the demon’s sizeable green shoulder. I watch with mixed relief and foreboding as she raises her axe and starts to swing.
The demon’s head comes clean off and more of that thick black substance begins to erupt from the neck, spurting into the dark sky, onto my clothes and in just about every other direction. I find it within myself somehow to scream for Buffy to get out the way, the demon’s body goes limp, releasing me from my hold, but not before a powerful shot of its blood surges straight into my wide and fearful eyes.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Above me the tree’s leaves whisper, softly nudging each other as the wind catches beneath them and tempts them to fall.
I writhe on the ground, my hands covering my eyes as I rub at the thick sludge. The stinging is unbearable, my hands are beginning to shake with frustration and panic as my fingers just seem to knit together with dried blood and gunk, becoming more and more useless.
I hear her feet running over the crisp grass, coming closer to me, her voice calling nervously and asking me if I’m okay. She falls to my side with a thud, her cool hands clasping at my frantic arms.
“I can’t get it off me!” I shout over and over, as my hands slide over my oval face recklessly.
Immediately her calm hands replace mine, sculpting the contours of my face as she attempts to clean it of the consuming darkness. I strain to see something, anything, even the edge of a shadow or the blur of a distant star in the night sky, but all I can hear is the shallow rasp of my own breath and all I can see is nothing.