Redemptions Path

Post To cantfindsanctum.

2006-10-09T20:26:12Z

Guns.

Not my typical deal, then again, it did come with the promise of a five figure salary. Other than tha' income, Lilah, I think tha' was the bitches name, insisted I have one f'safety measures. Like, fuck?! They know what Angel is and they still gimme this piece of metal? S'not like it'll kill him. If it did, tha' be anti-climatic, or whateva the word is. Guns aren't f'the supernatural. It goes against everythin' I am.

Yeah, yeah! I'm a criminal. A murderer. But, shit, man! I do it with style. A stake or a dagger. Using a gun is the cheap way, although this one is far from cheap, out. If ya wanna get into the kill, feel the life pull from the body ya hurtin', you needa do it hands on.

Somethin' I intend t'do with Angel. And no. Not tha' way. Been there, tried tha'. Rather skip the Basic Instinct seduction ritual. I'm not straight off the train from midget island with bottle blonde hair. Angel doesn't dig brunettes.

So, right, there'll be no bullets to wound him in effort to weaken him. Not even if they were blessed by a priest in holy water. Although, tha' doesn't sound so bad. Well, if I wasn't goin' straight f'the kill today. Cos I am. There ain't none of his little crew here to help him. Not as if they could.

The stairwell is empty and my feet are silent leadin' to his office.

Office? Ha! Whatta joke. He's not part of this world and lookit him, tryin' t'fit in. Tha's another thing tha' pisses me off. He tries to be someone he ain't. Inside he's got a monster. Normal fuckin' people don't. So, who's he tryin' to kid other than himself? I plan on showing him the reminder of his demon.

I kinda wish someone heard me. Wish he knew what was commin' at him. But, as the gun is nestled into a safety holster under my shirt, my booted feet comes in contact with the door knob and instead of properly turnin' it with my hand, my heel kicks it in. The wooden door splinters from it's frame, breaking off its hinges and crashing to the floor in front of my feet. The light from the hallway fills the office threshold just enough to keep me in a safe spot until I move.

And I'm not gonna move until I see tall, dark and naive standing in my path. Hmm.. wonder if he'll try the 'you're a good person Faith' routine, or just decide t'hell with me, kill me and find tha' moment of true happiness and snap?

If I have it my way that won't happen. The him killin' me part. Why? Cos if I don't get to kill him, well, I got other means to make him miserable.

"So, how does one get help around here? Cos the way I see it, I need a lot of help and the sooner we start, the faster I get my issues out on the table and find the road to recovery." I shout, hoping to snag Angel's attention; where ever he is 'round here.

inbitterness

2006-09-28T03:54:34Z

Here I am in beautiful LA. Beautiful? HA! Not even remotely. These are the former housing grounds of me, ex-convict, Faith. How Angel ever pulled that one; the being an ex-convict, I'll never know. Why? Cos he won't tell me. Guess he likes playin' the dark and mysterious hero even t'this day, er, night. But, whateva. I'm more greatful than anything f'him setting me on the right path. Sure, it ain't been easy and people had tried before; mainly being B, but it took my near self-destruction t'see the error of my ways.

So, like I said... LA. No place like it save for maybe The Big Apple. The smog and the traffic are killer. Boston def ain't like this. Sure, its got its moments, but nothin' as overly crowded as this shithole. Why am I even here? Well, cos, it's been a while since I talked to Angel and I don't do phone conversations. Plus, I wasn't exactly busy in Boston. Mostly jus' taken toll of what's changed and what hasn't. That mostly bit I mentioned is my mother. Eh', she's alive and drinking. That much I know. No, I didn't stop in. Why bother? I doubt she'd've recognized me. I watched her for a week or two. Just seeing if she got out of her rutts. Apparently she did. Only to wind up at the local corner for some Valium. Valium and a bottle of Vodka? Even I know tha's a dangerous mix. But, hey! Least she's not operating heavy machinery.

Her trailer house doesn't come with wheels. Heh.

I'd been there not too long as I stated. Before that I was in Cleveland. Cos, c'mon! G-Man mentions another Hellmouth and I ain't g'na stop by and take funny tourist Slayer photos? I'll likely head back to Cleveland. Jus' not now. Why? One name; Robin Woods.

Long story short; Robin thought I had walked out on him. Left him like I did all the other guys I was with. His little boy insecurites about his own ma leavin', yanno dyin'...whateva, rose up and his conscious took the bait. Fine by me. S'not like I needed him. He needed me. He'd been badly wounded enough in the last big battle at Sunnydale that he needed someone to help change the stitchin' on his wounds for three months post. Who was there for a literal helpin' hand? Moi. I did it without protest. Why? Cos I had genuinely liked the guy. Until he became like every other assfucker in the world and ditched me cosa some lame excuse. I take responsiblity for leavin', yeah. But I said I'd be back. And I was honest to those fucking Powers That Be, g'na come back. It was only when he called whining like some parole office, I decided to graciously...er, gracefully?, bow out of that relationship before it got ugly. I'm not afraid of anyone, don't get me wrong. When I say ugly, I mean in the sense of I'd be afraid of what I'd end up doin' if he caught me on a bad day and trust me... majority of people don't like me on a good day, let alone a bad one.

And now, I'm here. Took a bus. I hate planes. When the Scoobs said they were headed across the water and on those plastic lookin' contraptions, I stuck my grounds and stayed in the good o'l US of A! Plus, if I wanted a change of weather, Canada was a nice drive and so was Mexico. Familiar grounds are the bus depots of America for me. Can't help it. It's who I am. I like riding with the lower social class of America and the college kids heading home. Plus, with all the shit goin' down in the skies, most being planes, I like being as close to the ground as can be. With my bag slung over a shoulder, I walk the rest of the way towards the better part of the city. Iono if it's Slayer instinct or what, but somethin' here jus' doesn't feel right. Which gives me more of a better feelin' f'coming here.

By the time I reach a street I finally know well enough, it happens to be the one with the Hyperion on it. Man, tha' place is still standing tall and proud. Although lights are off and the front gate has a work of vines knitting around it's iron bars. Pushing my way through, I head up on the path, the sound of someone inside making me wrestle with decisions. Do I go in or just head back to Wolfram and Hart like I intended? Squatters could be living in there or... VAMPS! Ignoring the fact that Slayer alert didn't sound off, I march in there all high and mighty, the front doors swinging open and lo and behold they reveal, "Fred?" I ask in total confusion. Why she here and why she crying? "You aight?" I slip my stake back into my pocket and close the distance between us.

mouthofhell

2006-09-28T03:52:25Z

How'd I'd end up here? The middle of nearly nowhere, between Hell and Los Angeles. I'm dressed in my jumper still. Orange isn't a color that any person should wear. And trust me, I've seen my fair share of it on various sized people. And the bigger ya are, the more ya look like the sun.

The sun? Fuck. Haven't seen it for days, if not weeks.

I've been cooped up in solitary confinement for tha' length of time. I didn't even start it. It was just easier to blame me, I suppose. The girl tha' doesn't, no... didn't socialize with the other inmates. The one tha' always hadda keep to herself. It's not how I survived. It's how they did. I was sure if I made any kinda relationship with one of the other chicks, I'd find myself in a similiar sitch as I did back in Sunny D. I don't think I play nice with other girls. Guys? Sure. So long as they keep me entertained, I'm all for it.

But back to how I managed to get to the middle of the California desert. It's not such a hard story to recollect. Especially since it happened about five hours ago.

Well, I was released from my enclosure and told to play nice. Like I said, I don't play nice with others. I don't play period. I simply mind my own fuckin' business. And that's what I did. Sank on a bench outside and stared at the cloudy sky. An hour passed before I felt it. The tension in the air. A tension I hadn't felt since I had to watch my back with B in LA just before I did the redemption bit and got on a oneway trip to prison, trying to better my-- ah, who am I kidding? I belonged here where I wouldn't screw up more. Oh, and oneway? Obviously not so oneway. Well, there I was, sitting and minding my own when the tension gathered closer. For Slayers, or at least this one, the tension feels like a buzzing in the air. Like someone cut a live wire and its electricity was scratching air waves. Humming in your ear, brushing against your skin. All the hairs on my arms and neck stood on end. So, I waited. Waited until I heard the first cut of air. The knife making it's first connection with my instinct. One knife to my back. Aiming for my neck to be exact. Not a bad choice considering the rep I had. Standing I spun, snagged the knife, broke the owners wrist. Tossed the bitch to the ground and waited to be rushed by armed guards.

Only I wasn't. What happened next was another knife coming at me. This time from some bean stalk of a dyke. She made a hit on my left arm. Luckily not hitting any real needed tissue or vein. I subdued her with a kick to the chest, not with as much force as I'd've liked... oh say, my foot through her ribcage? Eh, but needless to say this had the attention of all around me. Even the asshole on watch post. Except he wasn't moving. He just watched intently. Fucker. He wanted one of us to wind up dead. One less animal he has to watch over like a zoo keeper, or I'd imagine. The last thing I needed was another face to haunt my sleep. But what was I g'na do exactly? What anyone else would. I knocked the pair out until better help arrived. Only that's not where it ended. I felt as if I was on OZ, y'know, the canned show on one of those HBO slash Showtime networks? I was on edge as they walked me away from the two unconscious hitwomen. I was told it wasn't a direct threat. Cheah, fuckin' right. Tell that to someone who's had a few session rounds of electric shock therapy. I knew better. I felt it in my gut. Something was goin' down or planning to. It begged the question of why I was the center of attention? Figure it be B or someone else, iono. Either case, I felt caged. Yes, I'm aware I was caged in a prison, but moreso without help. I felt suffocated. So, whatta I do first chance that comes? I bail. I make this beeline right for the barbed fence and with a jump, a flip and thanks to some tall weight lifting machines, I was over the fence in a flash. From there, I ran. And ran. Fortunately I had enough water in me to keep me hydrated, cos damn, if it ain't hot out here. About twenty minutes into my run, I heard dogs barking. Trying to catch my scent and trail me. They didn't. Neither did any officer. On the news there was probably broadcasts all around indicating an escaped felon. With my luck B, or Angel would see it and think I chickened out. Or worse... whoever was after me might come looking for the job that wasn't finished.

And so, voila! Here I am, five hours later, standing on the end of a highway strip, finger pointing towards somewhere. Not sure where, but it has to be LA. I'm facing east, finger west and if I went east, I'd be out of Cali. I don't wanna be. I need to see Angel. Tell him what went down. Then again he'd likely tell me there were phones for that. No matter. I need to get away from here. I need to figure out who's after me and show them tha' I ain't g'na be the one at the end of a blade. Here's hoping someone who doesn't watch TV or listen to the radio picks my ass up.

GED.

2006-09-12T17:19:53Z

Long time no write. Been busy. Tryin' to get my GED and the only one around to help is... well, B.

Imagine tha'?

B tryin' to help me ~~get~~ obtain(a new word I found in the dictionary!) my GED.

She ain't the best teacher, but compared t'what I was used to? She fuckin' sure is!

She told me also that people who use foul language a lot, well, are jus' too lazy to use other words.

Pfft. Y'believe her or wha'? I want my GED, not a lesson in social skills.

nomore_dreams

2005-05-09T16:20:01Z

Her room. Her room? Was it really her room anymore? I ono. I just...I feel strange. I feel lost inside. I'm used to feelin' tha' way, but this kind of lost is different. Neva' felt this way until now. And as the door opens, I know I can feel it. My muscles twitchin' to jus' run down the steps, out the front door and keep runnin' until I can't breath. Tha' I'll jus' die. Maybe then all this will go away. Tha' I'll find some kin'a peace in an endless war and battle. Not jus' with good versus evil, but with myself deep inside.

As Dawn walks off, I can't help but think to myself, tha' maybe once I go in there, she'll come runnin' back 'cos B might wake up and knock me on my ass. Gimme a real good ass kickin' from here to LA, and back in jail. Tha' be somethin', 'eh? But I know it ain't reality. Wha' is, is B layin' there. Now in full view as I creak open the door completely and then shut it behind me.

Clouded vision blurring further, and reddened cheeks now stained with tears.

I'm cryin'. You believe tha'? I wouldn't unless I saw it; but I knew I was. I felt it. Years of holdin' it all in, I let go. My emotions pourin' out of me like a dam that burst. Tip toeing, like I'd wake B up?, I came to the bed side, and sank. Not on the bed, but besides it on my knees. Hands clutching the edge tightly. God, she's never looked more fragile than she did now. And by impulse and by somethin' strikin' me to do so, I leaned up and I kissed her forehead. Eyes closing as I settled back on my knees. She did it for me as soon as I slipped into the coma. Don't ask how I knew; but I did. Chalk it up to maybe an out of body experience...if tha's wha' I even mean.

Wipin' at my eyes furiously, I tried to offer B's sleeping form a smile. It was cracked and hard. I didn't wanna smile and I'm sure if she could see me, she'd know. I wanted to punch her for not bein' awake and taken care of the people here. For bein' the weak one for once and not the brave soldier everyone declared her as. "Cos ya no martyr now, B." I mumbled and clutched a hand into a tight fist. Nails digging into the palm of my hand in a bruisin' manner. Snifflin' I eyed her and I studied her. "Sleepin' beauty." Sure it was quick and snide, but I mean, is tha' who she thought she was? No. No, but still. She looked like Aurora. And cheah, I saw tha' Disney movie in the big house of all places. "Are you waitin' for ya prince to come? 'Cos he doesn't know yet, B. I think it'd kill him to see you so weak. And weak by your own means. I mean, c'mon! Wha' the fuck were you thinkin' tha' this ain't real? Tha' it's all a figment of your imagination? I know you better than everyone, and your imagination ain't tha' good, sister." I half chuckled...reaching to lay my hand over her's in a sign of protection. She was warm. Not cold, which is good. I knew she wasn't dead, but when people looked like they should or could be dead, then you jus' jumped the gun. "And seriously, B. Aren't ya g'na kick my ass for jus' walkin' in without knockin'?" I waited for a response I felt might come, but knew never would. Not now anyways.

"I swear, if you spend eight months in a coma like me, I'll kick your ass back into one as soon as you get up." Now is when I grin at her.

This conversation between her and me...it ain't over. Not by a long shot. I still have a lot more to ~~say~~ apologize for.

I ono how much I meant it beyond knowing that I half meant the promise. If she spent too long in a coma and finally came out, I'd probably hit her for makin' everyone here worry. I got tha' sometimes, pressure made you cave, but damnit! She had people tha' loved her. Wanted her around. Not for the sake of pitying her, but because they honestly cared. They were her family, and you'd think she'd'a learned from my fuckin' mistakes? Yea, miss self-righteous not practicing wha' she preaches. Then again, B always had her own rules. Able to live by them and not have no one say shit 'bout it. 'Cos she was the golden girl. The chosen one. I was a second replacement. Not chosen by way, but by default. Maybe I jus' wasn't cut out for this shit?

Tha' didn't matter now, 'cos I hadda be cut for this shit. I hadda protect the Hellmouth. Be it's new gate keeper until B woke the hell up from dreamland, or whateva land she really was in.

I wonder if it's as nice as I hope it is? 'Cos if it ain't... hooboy. Her and me are g'na have more than jus' fists flyin'.

I was so completely wrapped up in my thoughts, tha' I didn't hear anyone at the door until I saw the flash of red hair whizzing by. Were they checkin' up on me? Makin' sure I wasn't unpluggin' shit and rearranging wires? Somethin' told me, nah. Jus' tha' Red had walked by and peeked in. Human curiousty wanted to snoop around. To see jus' wha' I was doin'. Good intentions or bad. I figured I had a while to go. A while to keep at B's side s'more. I didn't wanna leave. Maybe I should stay here and not at some motel? But Wes. I can't jus' up and leave him. Not after our talk last night. Our sorta went on establishin' a Slayer and Watcher relationship. I know wha' he went through and now he had me to lean on. Sure, I don't agree with him a hundred percent on his actions, but he had good cause to act out. Jus' as I'm sure he didn't see eye to eye one all of my past sins.

The thing is, we were g'na learn from one another and truth be told, I was damn well fuckin' lookin' forward to it.

But back to B here. God, this really was a knife in the gut. "And you already did tha' once before, remember?" I asked her, clasping my hand back over one of her own and squeezing, chin resting on the mattress. "I bet ya do. How could ya not? I also know wha' ya did when ya came to visit me in Sunnydale General. I know ya kept watch over me in short visits. I'm g'na do the same f'ya. I need to and wanna, B. Jus' until you come outta the coma. I did it, and fuck, I ain't as strong as you. Never was and never will be. The main thing is...I at least try, right?" I said with a smile and a sniffle. "Man, I didn't think the Squirt would be taller than you. She's got a good two inches on you, I'd say. But big things come in small packages." Somehow this felt okay. I didn't feel so lost when I was talkin' to her. Heh'. Maybe I'm jus' insane and not criminally insane, now?

"Remember tha' time out in Restfield, when we tackled a pair of adults in the bushes, thinkin' they were vamps? And they were both ass naked and doin' the deed? You were so totally wigged out. I remember the look on ya face." I smirked, and for a while, I kept on. Hopin' to stir her. It was daylight out and everyone here had research mode to go into. I was never one for the books. Gimme the physical and I was your chick. If they needed me, though, I'd help. In anyway I can.

Like I said, I owed it to them and mostly to B.

slayers_key

2005-05-06T14:09:58Z

Settin' the bag to the counter, I watched as B got up and started puttin' it all away. She had to have shit her way, or no way. This order and not tha'. I mean, I get it; order and organization. If she ain't got it, little miss muffet ain't in fuckin' control. And we all don't want tha', now do we? Nooooo.

Note the god-fucking-damn sarcasm laced on every word in my thoughts.

Foldin' my arms across my chest, I listened. Dawn saying' she could go alone. B nearly droppin' the eggs I jus' bought. Then the pair of 'em exchangin' glances. Well, gee! If I wasn't so fuckin' paranoid most the time, I would'a missed the big fucking sign tha' was.

The two lil' shits were conspirin' against me.

ME!

Ha-fucking-ha! Wha' a crock of shit tha' is. I mean, seriously! Who do they think they were tryin' to play? Giles?

And then ontop of tha', the squirt was tryin' to sugar coat me into foldin' and agreein'. Please. I wasn't born yesterday .

Plus, I'm sorta the ~~master~~ mistress of this game.

Smilin' over at Dawn, I nodded. "Cheah, sure. Pool. Sounds wicked fun, I'm in and I'll show ya more than how'd'a play with tha' stick." Winking her way, I saw B's mouth drop and there went the eggs. Barbie tryin' to gather it up while stammerin' a few drawn out cusses my way.

"So, when we leavin' half pint? 'Cos I ono 'bout you, but I'm ready t'leave. Could do for a stiff drink. You up for some shots?"

his_firecracker @ 2005-05-05T13:57:00

2005-05-05T17:57:24Z

I'm back, yo'.

Well, fuck.

2005-02-23T05:07:15Z

It was as if I was stepping back in time. I put up all my defenses when we neared that old familiar house. I had to. I could feel Buffy inside. That slayer connection. Sorta like twins. We're connected. B and me, yeah, I think we really are. Too bad I fucked up a relationship that could've been kickass. Ah well. Can't change the past. Sure as hell can atone for it though. Angel taught me that. A lot. That's one of the reasons why I helped him when Angelus was at the reigns. The other reason was right inside the house we neared. You betcha. Buffy. I owe her a lot more than I owe Angel.

"1630 Revello Drive." I mumbled as Willow drove up into the driveway where a dark green jeep was parked. Joyce's car. I remember the woman driving around in it and searching for Buffy as we stayed out late. Patrolling or even Bronzin' it. Fun times that soon turned into a twisted morbid nightmare. All hell broke loose, or at least tried to. Remember folks, we were, and are, on the hellmouth.

"You remember the address?" Willow asked in an inquistive tone.

Of course I just shrug and flick the half smoked cigarette out the window and onto the cleaned cement driveway. "Yeah, guess I did. Hard not to when half the time you all were here." It was a half assed remark that I doubt Red even believed. I sure as hell didn't. It was because of Buffy that I remembered it. I ruined so much in such a short time for the blonde slayer.

"Sitting there isn't going to be of much help." Willow was speaking now from the porch. I had drifted into some sort of trance as I stared to the green jeep. Joyce really wasn't there anymore. You could tell just by looking at the dirty car. It looked like it hadn't had a wash in years. Probably hadn't. B most likely never even stepped foot inside the vehicle. What was done was done. It was a waste of a perfectly good machine to me. Then again, I wasn't the one with morals and some sort of conscience, was I?

"Yeah, yeah. I was jus' thinkin' on shit." I replied in a whisper to Willow, who had to have heard me because she turned and made her way to the front door of the house.

Here goes nothin', I thought to myself with the distant sound of a car door slamming behind me.

As I came onto the porch, there they were. My walls that is. I was building them ever since Angel asked me to go back with Red and help the others out. First initial thought, 'No way in fucking hell. B hates me. She'll most likely think I'm in on the end of the world shit. I was in on it at least once.' Oddly enough, I didn't say what I thought. Something strange for me. I was passive and agreed. I still have a lot to redeem myself for. Maybe this will give the bad misfit of a slayer the earned brownie points to get her some sort of solace.

Here's hopin'.

With a deep breath and a heavy heart, I followed Red inside the house.

My life as I fuckin' know it.

2005-02-22T22:41:01Z

Summary: Faith reflects on other things she did whilst in Buffy's body. Things unseen to our eyes and tells us just why Buffy was so worked up after the entire body switch.

Disclaimer: Wish I owned Buffy and all the characters related. If I did, I'd have enough money to hire someone to clone Sarah Michelle Gellar and let the true shippers have peace once and for all with the entire saga. But, I don't. I'm just a poor girl with the obsession of writing. Also, I do not own the lyrics to the song. I heard it from a friend, and I give credit to the author on that note.

Note: Everything in bold are lyrics. In italic are thoughts. And pardon the typos and the way I adjusted some words to fit Faith's way of speakin', kay? ^_< With that said, enjoy and review.

- - - - - -

If I was beautiful like you. Oh, the things I would do. Those not so blessed would be crying out with murder, and I'd just laugh and get away with it too. Like you do.

It had worked. Buffy was on her way to being gone. In my body. My fuckin' body! Talk about a kick to the head, huh? Imagine livin' everyday in a body that you really hated. A body that men worshipped.

Worshipped just to get into the temple only to fuckin' disgrace it.

Then bam! One gift of the gods, and you're in the body of the person you hated for makin' you hate yourself. They should'a made a fuckin' movie outta it, 'cos I swear, it was really goddamn poetic.

The things I had done in the body of the cherished golden girl.

Hmm, what's tha' ya say? Riley? Oh, hell no. Nah, this is way before Captain Cardboard, as Spike calls him. Now Spike? Tha's a vamp I'd bang into the grave. Do you see the cheekbones on the deadbeat? God, tha' was somethin' I *really* wanted to do while in B's body. Bang Angel's grandchild. Just as I told him.

'I could ride you at a gallop until your legs buckled and your eyes rolled up. I've got muscles you've never even dreamed of. I could squeeze you until you popped like warm champagne, and you'd beg me to hurt you just a little bit more.'

Because y'know what? I would. I wouldn't even hesitate. In that body of hers, or this old one of mine.

Mostly in B's body, I would've done so. Why? Why the hell not?! Imagine Barbie's face when she not only found out I slept with her precious Soldier, let alone Spike too? Man, she'd flip. Which she actually did on my ass. Though, it was for more than her thought tha' I was manipulatin' the master at it all, Angel.

Yeah, right. Remember, B? Tried that once before. Ain't going for twice, babe. Did my fair share of trying to bed a man headstrung on his beloved Buff.

Eh', Buffy, whateva'. Angelus, Angel. Same thing in the end. Same body.

Same sins.

Yeah, as I was goin' to explain. B was royally pissed for more reasons than me sleeping with her newest meat. Her emotions went deeper than that.

I guess somewhere in the back of the goodie goodie's mind, I knew that living in the temple men actually worshipped and respected, minus Parker, that it wasn't goin' to last. Nothin' ever does for me anyways. I always get screwed in the end. All too literally for my likin'.

If I was beautiful like you, I would never be at fault. I'd walk in the rain between the rain drops and pulling traffic to a hault. But that would never be.

What got the firecracka', shooting off her mouth and limbs, was the fact tha' I tattooed her. Y'know it. The most sexual of kinds. Right between her legs. If you parted those sun kissed thighs, you'd see a name on the inner flesh. Just before the sinful curve where thigh met her beautiful entrance to the goddess' temple.

Faith.

Who elses name belonged there? Not dead boy's. Fuck tha' shit. He only wished he could've been as intimate with Buffy's body as I had been. To know just how she felt while fingers pushed the folds apart. How wonderful it felt to arch up when the lightest of feather touches grazed over the swollen nub.

The way the skin burned because, unlike him, or anyone else, I knew what I was doin' to the gorgeous body. I was worshippin' it and keepin' it holy. Yeah, whateva', twisted as it might be, I know half a dozen people wish they had been in my shoes, or hers, howeva' ya see it. Havin' that delicious lithe body squirming under their skilled ministrations. Mouth sucking on the fingers tha' tasted of herself. Hips bucking up in the air, all the while crying out for more as the orgasm rushed out.

If I was beautiful like you, I'd be quick to assume, they'd do anything to please me. I see the reaction when you walk into a room. But, that would never be. That just can't ever be, 'cos I'm not beautiful like you.

It was a reminder. A reminder as to who truely owned Buffy's body, even if for a fraction in time, like no man ever would.

Me.

I'm beautiful like me!

I claimed her body in a hundred ways. Makes me wonder, as I sit here, watchin' her sleeping frame with the SIT's all 'round the house, if she has the name still etched on the inside of her thighs under that thin little peach colored night gown.

One way to find out, huh?

It's still getting worse after everything I tried. What if I found a way to wash it all aside?

God, help me. I really mus' be a fuckin' sucka f'her. Jus' watching her in that little night gown, shiftin' in her sleep, makes me want to... to pin her down and take what -is- mine. To ravish her over and over again. To show her what it was like all that time in jail, not being with anyone. To show her how much I need her. No. How much; She. Needs. Me.

But do I? No! I can't.

I'm changed. Reformed. Different. Better.

Whateva'. All the same. Right? Guess so. Least Red thinks I've changed. But part of me hasn't. No one can -fully- change.

Look at Angel. Sure, he's got a soul, but deep inside, he's still got tha' fucking prick of an alter ego, Angelus. And man, do I hate tha' guy! Son of a bitch. He's one guy with a bite worse than his bark. 'Cos damn. He leaves his mark. That's the thing ain't no one seen yet. His mark on me! Fuck man, I somewhat tolerated it on B's body, but me?! Who the fuck does he think he is anyway? If it wasn't for Angel being connected to the punkass bitch, I'd'a staked the leather clad asshole when I had the chance, and don't fuckin' think I didn't. -I- owned him. Not vice versa. So get tha' outta ya head right now!

See, B's marking is on her right side. Mines on the left. Angel marked Buffy. Figures the cock sucker hadda mark me. But can ya get any -less- creative? Guess vamps with ego-trips don't think so much on the creativity. Whateva'. To each his own, man. Each his own.

Where was I? Oh, yeah.

You can take the man out of the demon, but ya can't take the demon out of the man.
Same as the way I am. This -is- who I am. Through and through. Still livin' in the fuckin' shadow of Buffy Anne Summers. The pretty little wonder girl. The super heroine. The tragic lover. The brave... so on and so on. Kinda hard not to live in her shadow.

Yeah, but as far as marking's go. I made mine better than any vampiric 'claiming'. I -was- Buffy. I marked her while in tha' precious shell. I degraded it in a shit loada ways. Tha' body loved every minute of it. Loved the way I -let- Riley ride it. Let him gently take it, even as I tried to speed the ministrations up. Tha' guy jus' wigs me the hell out. Too fuckin' nice, or was. Guess he ain't in the picture no more? Good. One less ass I gotta kick to get the lucious ass of Buffy in bed.

As I was sayin', or braggin' rather... I had Buffy's body learning -my- techniques. Sure it was her body, but they were my actions. Everything I did, aside from Misfit Islands toy soldier, was from me. Actually, tha' was me too. To an extent. Couldn't show rent-a-soldier jus' how good -I- was. He might've gotten a tad bit suspicious.

But, yeah, when tha' body exploded into orgasms and fucked the tiny digits harder and harder, juices dripping onto the bed, the floor, everywhere I took it, it was because of -me-.

I was teaching it things tha' no man would eva' gotten to do if even given the chance.

Plus, hello! Miss.Puritan wouldn't let them. I don't think she's ever let anyone go down on her. Tha's one thing I hated not being able to do. Lick tha' delicious cunt from top to bottom, and all in-betweens. Given Buffy's flexibility, she ain't tha' bendable.

Mmm, if only she was.

What if she touches with those fingertips, as the words spill out like fire from her lips.

I'm jus' like the fuckin' rest. Captivated by her beauty. She's the flame. I'm the moth and eventually, ya got it, I'm gonna fuckin' get burned. Haven't I already, though? Yup. Too many times and yet I keep comin' back for more. I can't resist. Ya always want wha' ya can't have, but damnit! I -am- going to have wha' I want!

The palms of my hands are sweaty. Sticking with the nervousness tha's crashing through my veins jus' as the surge of lust breaks through. How dark had it been in prison? Too dark. Now here she lay. My beautiful fuckin' sunshine. My golden girl. My sun to my moon. My stars against the never ending black abyss. My Heaven in Hell. My salvation through damnation. My perfection in imperfection. Faith a poet? Jesus, tha's jus' as bad as William The-Fucking-Bloody as a poet before he had the nickname Spike. Jesus, someone shoot me, please.

I can't take my eyes off her. I know there's something primal in them. Always is when it comes to Buffy.

My Buffy.

My Buffy tha' was comin' 'round. Her body twisting ontop of the bed I once held her mother captive on. "Tha' a'girl B, jus' come 'round some more." Course I'd encourage her. Why the fuck wouldn't I? I might be a murderer, I ain't no rapist. I want her aware of wha' I'm gonna do to her, and have her aware of just how much she loves it.

If she says come inside, I'll come inside for her. If she says give it all, I'll give everything to her. I'm justified. I'm purified. I'm sanctified; inside you.

My movements stop. My lips suddenly twitch and a devious grin is jus' stretchin' a mile wide, right 'bout now. She's moving to touch herself.

Wonder who it is she's dreamin' of?

It's like outta the blue, my jealousy flares. My skin flushes with color from containing my hatred at her, for dreaming of someone else. Ya might think I have no right, but I do! I have more right than any-fucking-one! There are these thoughts that still flicker through my mind. To jus' straddle her and make her cum. Make her know wha' it truly is like to be someone's. To belong to me, and let her see tha' she does and always will. To see the pleasure flash across her angelic face as she dreams about whoever, but wakes up to see me. And then realize, she hasn't any power to defend herself with. Tha' the last breath she takes in bliss, is death's wish. To snuff out her light.

To snuff out her light that brings -my- darkness some sense of ease; forever.

But I can't. I won't. I'm not going to. Especially not after the way she touches the tattoo, which is still there.

Holy Christ Chex's, I can't breath.

She still has it? I thought for sure it wouldn't be there. Tha' Miss.Goodie-Goodie, would'a removed it. Be too ashamed of it. But she hasn't. It's there for all the world... no, only for me to see. It's mine. She's mine. The only way I was broken from tha' trance is by the way she moaned my name.
I blinked and I blinked, and I blinked. So many times I was sure I'd look like Xander, when he tries to cover tha' lil' twitch of his eyes when given a situation and my name comes up.

But back to -my- sleeping beauty. The rose petal lips parted and out it came. A soft mewl of pleasure. At once, the lips of my face were dry, but the lips between my thighs were soaked.

Man, was I wet!

Heaven's just a rumor she'll dispell, as she walks me through the nicest parts of hell.

But my fantasy quickly fades once Buffy gets up, retreating to the headboard, hissing out my name. I can smell her. Jus' as keen as any vampire would be able to. It was a trait both Slayers and vamps shared. Wonder if Barbie, knew it? Probably not.

That stake was always jammed up her ass too far.

Time to take it out.

Definitely.

Stepping closer to the bed, my fingers curl around the hem of the thin sheet. It felt like silk, but nowhere near the way Buffy's skin felt. Always hot to the touch, even as... Get off? I nearly laughed aloud and so hard, tha' I would've ended up on the floor if I hadn't an ounce of self-control.
Self-control tha' was fading fast. A low growl errupted from deep within my chest.

Guess Slayers have more traits shared with vamps, then we think, huh?

My fingers pulled at the covers. Body coming up on the bed in front of those terrified green eyes, swirling with lust. She wanted me as much as I wanted her. Buffy's nervousness was filled with arousal. I could smell it more than anything, and this time, I hadn't even the need to concentrate.

"I'm not gettin' out, B. I jus' got in. Besides, like ya said..." I let her know tha' I knew. Words sultry and low, jus' wha' wigged the blonde out the most. Being seduced by a woman. She was still the uptight little goddess the Scooby crew worshipped her as. It was time tha' I showed her how a woman of her calling should be worshipped. "..I gotta get off."

I still dream of lips I never should have kissed. Well, she knows exactly what I can't resist.

With a blur of floral sheets, and suntanned flesh, Buffy was pinned under me. Her body tensing up, trying to deny what it so very much wanted.

-Me.-

Nestling my body between her thighs, I can't help but lower my face to her neck, inhaling her scent. Vanilla and brown sugar. A combination tha' could easily send me over the edge.

If she wanted, there was enough power in her to send me reeling off the bed, and wishing she'd finish gutting me years ago. But, she doesn't move. Aside from the obvious wriggle to get in a better spot. "Jus' let it happen, B. Y'know y'feel it."

She had to have. The warmth that always came from being near each other. It died when I left. Seemed the further I was from her, the colder it got inside my body. My blood, and yea', my heart also. Right now, though, I was on fire. Guess tha's wha' she does to ya.

Leave it to her to make everything and anything, complicated. Mostly; myself.

Now tha' the sheet is outta the way, jus' gotta get the nightie outta the way, too. As much as it looks delectable on her, I want her all naked. I want to feel her bare skin against mine. Another growl errupts from my chest, tickling over the sensitive flesh of her neck. She moans again, my hands now grasping both her tiny wrist together. Moving them so only one larger hand held them above her head, keeping Buffy in the spot -I- want her to be.

Keeping her in the spot she knows she wants to be; under me.

For once, this Slayer was ontop. No living in Buffy's shadow. Right now, as my lips fastened to hers, taking in her cries of pleasure, legs parting in welcoming to me, she's finally living in -my- shadow.

One of my many musings.

2005-02-22T20:34:46Z

Fingers hovered over the computers keyboard. One of those old and
ancient keyboards of a faded white, and key letters smudged off by
the massive use of it over a period of maybe two decades, or a little
less. There it was; writers block. The light above hung high, light
flickering on and off almost religiously every two minutes. Luckily
she had the light of the green monitor to keep the room illuminated.
Though, the buzzing sound the tower gave off could definitely quit
right about now.

Writers block was doing nothing for her weekly journal entry. She
kept an entire log after the last two years. Marked every bad episode
of Faith's life; behind bars. That title had to be erased and
replaced with something a little more better. "Hells Awakening." The
brunette said to no one aloud. Only her conscience was Faith's loyal
companion. Reminding her when things got hard, she had made others
lives harder. A reason why she was here.

Redemption, it isn't always easy. The distant echo of fingers
tapping the keys stopped, Easy? No, fuck tha' shit. It ain't easy
ever. Wha' the fuck was I thinkin' when I thought I could do this?
Damn, I must've been trippin'. The brunette thought. Especially
days like this. Days? No. It was nightfall already. The darkness
consuming the entire prison.

The windows locked with steel bars taunt you with some ounce of
freedom, while at the same moment in time, denying you it with a
cruel understanding; you're part of a free nation, just unable to
participate in it. Fingers stopped again, doe eyes staring
intently on the screen before her. Wanting to rip it from off the
desk where it was nailed, purposely for that reason, and bash one of
the guards heads in.

"Whatta crock of shit. I sound like the lamest fucking loser eva'.
Me, writing almost influen...influentially. Ha, cheah right. I bet if
I tried spelling tha' word, I wouldn't be able to." To prove her
point, she went on to try it.

I N F L U E N T . . . A pause again, and Faith shook wild
tresses of milk chocolate spirals and hit the backspace button. "I
can't even fuckin' spell it. Goddamnit. I should just use word
speller, or whateva, after I figure out wha' the hell to write." So,
losing herself in the hypnotic trance of the horrid green lighting of
the old monitor, Faith went back to work.

It was just hard to focus when you felt something going down on the
outside and not be able to go and find out. But, if it was something
big, she figured Angel would at least give her a heads up in knowing.
Despite her being behind maxium security.

Audition to Buffy.

2005-02-22T06:25:33Z

This is for an audition to the part of Buffy in an RPG. This has been taken from my own personal fiction based off of a long set of chapters. All characters and properties are copyrighted to the respected owners. I just borrow.

- - - -

It's just a simple line. I can still hear it all of the time. If I can just hold on tonight I'll know that nothing, nothing survives.

My dreams are a constant reminder of everything I've ever lost.

From the start and to the finish.

Nearly going to be four times over, that is my finish, of course. I was meant to be done with this world a long time ago. No Slayer is ever to live passed their twenty fifth birthday. No less come back from the dead.

I've done so thrice.

Okay, maybe four times. It all depends with how far I was gone after Warren's actions. Not sure on that case. It's for the medical staff at Sunnydale General to determine. It all doesn't matter to me. Why?

Because, I've been dead for a long time.

Funny that somehow, I keep dying a little bit more, each night.

But lately, I've felt, alive. Just for the past few nights. I don't want to think of it being because Faith's here. Too much damage done by her, to feel almost safe around her.

But, I think I do.

I hadn't felt this way since... well, since she left to Los Angeles, years back. Even when she was in that coma, and believe me when I say it wasn't a long enough one, there was always a sense of security for me. That warm feeling of knowing where a said thing was. Not feeling like I had misplaced something so important to me. That's a laugh, though, huh?

Faith giving me the warm fuzzies?

Not likely. More like the gut wrenchies.

Nothing survives.

Yet, even now, there's something different about her. I can't help but wonder if she's really changed, or if going to jail was just another ride? Because she knew something nobody else did; that eventually, she would be out of that place.

No. Intuition and Faith don't mesh well together. Sort of like Faith and morals. She's not big on those things.

But here I am, my eyes closed, and all thoughts leading to her. I can't help it. She always gets me on edge. She has to know what she does to me. Has to know that she makes my eye twitch. - Along with other parts, which I won't say because it's just; wrong.

So wrong.

Isn't it?

"Mmhmm."

I mean, it's Faith. Ugh! I'm not supposed to be thinking about her, in any sense, but here I am, just yammering away inside my little head about the dark haired beauty. Can't help it. The moment I had rolled over, feigning sleep all the more, and my thighs rubbed together, over that one sure fire spot, I was immediately thrown into Faithverse. Constant thoughts flickering in and out about her. About how I could have saved her. How I could have forgiven her.

Even if I did almost always.

Until I had it and not only had Faith snapped, but a apart of me had snapped.

I think I'm turned around. I'm looking up, not looking down. And when I'm standing still, watching you run, watching you fall.

There it is again. The sensation of being safe. Of being; loved? No. The only ones to love me are my friends and Dawn. Not these little girls that were thrown into this when they shouldn't have been. I doubt Faith even knows what it's like to be loved. She just knows what it's meant to be an animal. That's what she did that night. The night she'd switched bodies on us.

She claimed me like no one else had ever done and I... I hate her for it. Sure, I could get it removed, but I don't exactly have the kinda dough to go spending on a tattoo removal. Besides, after oh-say, apocalypse number gazillion and one, we'll see if I can even walk again.

Someone's watching me. That's what that feeling is. I want to open my eyes, but I can't. I know, sounds silly, but I'm sorta feeling... warm inside. Feeling relaxed. Nobody else is in the room, besides whoever that is. Never once in a million years would I be doing this. Rolling onto my back on my mothers bed, legs spreading slowly. Fingers already between my thighs. But they don't go where expected. No. They go right to the name.

Fall into me.</b>

HER name.

A finger traces over the well scripted F.

It's then that I know who's watching me. Eyes shut tight all the more, trying to ride out the initial pleasure I've never gotten like this before in touching the name. It's almost orgasm worthy. I can feel it already. My body going from warm to hot in seconds flat. My lips moving slowly to breathe out the one thing I wish I hadn't said.

"Faith."

I couldn't control it. The name rolled off my tongue. The first time it was ever said in a soft moan. Eyes that had been shut tight, flew open and I did what I know how to do best; defend. I'm sitting up, pulling away from her. This time, "Faith." is said in a hiss. Venom lacing every single goddamn syllable so she still knows how much I... I hate her.

Am I making something worthwhile out of this place? Am I making something worthwhile out of this chase?

But, I don't. I hadn't hated her even after I discovered the tattoo. The only times I ever hated her was when she hurt Angel, and then when I had no choice but to kill her. But, yeah, we all see how well that worked out. NOT! But maybe it was all for the better. For this. To have another Slayer around. To once again feel the bond that even being enemies couldn't break. To know what it's like to have insanely mixed feelings about everything.

'Cos yup, that's Faith. Leave it to her to make everything and anything complicated. Mostly; myself.

But she isn't biting the bait. She's just staring at me, almost, predatorily. It's then that I realize the door is shut and my heartbeat increases. Blood isn't flowing the way it should be. I'm getting dizzy just looking at her, and I try to talk. No use. She's just; breathtaking. But somehow, I manage to speak.

"Get off."

Damnit! Stupid, stupid brain! My brain isn't working. But my eyes are, and I can see a chesire like grin spread across her hard features. She knew what I meant, and would rather take advantage of what I said. Even when I fix my statement to, "I mean get out."

And I point to the door, but she decides before she might get off, she gets on.

On the bed!

Crawling to me closer, and I can't help but let her.

So fuckin' bored, man.

2004-11-19T15:30:40Z

Seriously, I'm fuckin' bored. Need somethin' to do, or someone. Heh. Whateva.