Oh, Plei. Damn. See, it works. That's what's frightening about the fic - it makes sense. It fits. It could have happened. And we generally don't like to think about stuff like that.

But I kind of liked Snyder t unhappy ...and now you're making him Bad with a capital B.

whimper.

Look, the start of unbeta'ed girlporn! (If this is what it takes to make you back away from the Snyder/Willow)

t distraction!Fay

* * *

And really, it should have been more of an event, more of a trauma or some kind of big gay epiphany, but it was just like falling off a log - and it was only afterwards, quite a while afterwards, that she realised that she couldn't exactly claim to be 100% straight any more. That, technically, fucking Faith in the rain was pretty much a case of the heterosexuality leaving the building, thank you very much and goodnight, and that if Xander ever heard about it he was going to be all kinds of happy. But it just seemed so damned natural and normal and, hell, it was Faith, so did that really count? Because Faith was Faith - it wasn't like she'd fallen in love with a sweet little Tara or something like that. It wasn't like she'd taken a vow of no more penises ever again.

It was just - the rain was coming down so damned hard, warm and wet and insistent, fat droplets bouncing off skin like so many useless little missiles as the two of them took apart the nest and vampires flooded out into the alleyway. It was just the endorphin rush kicking in at the sweet perfection of punch and slash and thrust and kick, the pure pleasure of allowed violence as the startled and badly dressed undead exploded into gravedust. It was the buzz of it all, and the weight of the world gone from her shoulders at long damn last; just the two of them, like it had been in that little perfect time before reality came crashing down and they got shoved to different sides. It was simple. Seductive, having someone at her back she could trust, someone who was (maybe, possibly, conceivably) as good as she was herself. Like having Spike there, and knowing absolutely that he wouldn't let anything get past him, wouldn't need her to do his work for him. And maybe it was that too - missing Spike, in some weird fucked up way. But maybe not. Maybe it was a slayer thing.

Twenty, thirty - she'd not been counting, but it was a fair sized nest and they put up a decent fight. Buffy was panting when she drove her stake deep into the last cold chest and felt it crumble into satisfying powder. A second later the rain was washing the remnants down onto slick ground and she was raking her hair out of her eyes as she turned, grinning a savage little grin.

Faith's last vamp had turned to powder under her; Buffy reached out an unnecessary hand to help her up and felt the skin warm and wet and alive under her own as the other girl sprang to her feet. Faith's pulse was racing and she knew precisely how it felt, the flood of adrenaline in the veins, the endorphins doing their thing. She felt like a shaken bottle of champagne, still fizzing with unspent potential, and she knew Faith felt the same. She wondered where they could find other vamps in this no-Starbucks town.

"All right, B!" It was the same cocky grin as ever, the same voice she'd heard in dreams and nightmares. Nobody had the power to irritate her like Faith did - nobody's voice could so instantly set her on edge, could have her itching so swiftly for a fight. That's how it had been, at least - seeing Faith got her fingers clenching into a fist straight away. But the voice and the smile mirrored her own exhilaration right now and it was *good*. Just good. And maybe she was growing, or something, because she didn't want to make Faith bleed. Or at least - not too badly. Not to death.

"Yeah," she said vaguely, aware that she was still smiling a predator's smile and still holding onto Faith's hand - and maybe a little too tight. "You're not too bad at this." Faith met her gaze and grinned back toothily.

"You don't suck yourself, B." Faith's hair straggled down her back in limp black streamers, sodden as seaweed and a million miles removed from the usual sexy bounce of dark waves. Her eyeliner was all but history, raccoonishly smudged all to hell. The tight white vest top was soaked right through and clinging to every bra-less curve, and it was stained with God knows what muck, and there was a little blush of red from a shallow cut on her collarbone. Faith looked like crap, and Buffy knew she did herself, and it didn't matter at all. They were both glowing - Buffy could see her own expression on Faith's face, fierce and hungry. And she was still holding Faith's hand.

Afterwards she couldn't quite remember who moved first. The bricks felt rough against her back, the breath was being shoved out of her lungs and then Faith's breasts were crushed against her own, familiar but different - heavier, hotter, nipples hard and thick and insistent through a couple of thin layers of wet fabric - and she was pulling Faith closer so damned hard that she knew her fingers were going to leave bruises.

Familiar lips came down on Buffy's throat and closed over the scar of Angel's bite, raising blood up to the surface and bruising her with blunt teeth - and f Buffy hadn't already been liquid at this point, the bite would have done it. She gasped something incoherent and her head bumped against the bricks behind her - and all she could think was that Faith had her own scar left by Angel's mouth. Angelus's mouth. It made Buffy angry and not-angry at once; made her jealous, but she wasn't quite sure of whom, and made her weirdly satisfied too.

She arched her back as Faith's fingers kneaded her through denim, and this wasn't happening fast enough. Buffy laced her hand through the dark tangle of tresses and pulled Faith's head back untenderly. She smiled into the startled dark eyes, and there was nothing sweet about her smile, nothing friendly really - still damned if she was going to let Faith think she was top dog - and pulled her into a kiss that felt like fighting.

umm Fay. That was yummy.

Oh, yummy, Fay.

Fay, I really think that there is more to this. And that you'll post it soon.

As always, Elena makes an important point.

Fay, that's just-- !!!!!!!!!, and that's a direct quote from my nervous system.

Heheheheheheheheheheheheheheheh.

No. Really.

(heheheheheheheheh)

Plei writes sicko porn like a deranged, er, dryad. But I knew that.

(still at Nic's office. Feh.)

Oh, dear Fay. There is not enough hubba in the world, you lovely lovely woman.

The Resurrection Gambit

Part Nine: Memory

China, 2023: “Funny what comes to mind,” thought Spike as he observed his comrades. Despite their obvious antipathy toward their current location and course of action, Wesley and Xander had been carrying the conversation. He chimed in here and there, if only to keep things flowing, but to tell the truth, there were bits he’d forgotten, and he was listening intently, trying to find the small details lost in the wash of decades.

Everyone always assumed he had that photographic memory gift that Angel had. No such luck. That particular talent was something Liam possessed even before Darla made a monster of him. It amused him that people were so quick to reach for the supernatural, rather than acknowledge just how incredible people’s human gifts could be.

Spike figured he’d at this point forgotten as much as he knows. Maybe more. He knows he was in Hell for awhile, but that’s a bit of a wash. Before that, he knew he stumbled and crawled his way from Africa to Sunnydale, the weight of his returned soul driving him mad. He remembered scraps of humanity, as though his previous life were a painting he’d been fond of as a child. He remembered Buffy.

Looking across the table at Dawn, watching her discreetly size up each entry to the bar as a potential threat, he couldn’t help but think how much she’d changed from the girl she once was, the girl he failed to save from Doc, the night that Buffy…

He remembered the last time he’d come to Shanghai. How he and Drusilla had wrestled over the Aurelius Gem, how Dru had knocked him to the street below before turning toward Dawn.

“How many times can I fail to save this girl?” he thought, then realized that she was no longer someone who needed to be saved. Still, he’d die for either of them—her or Buffy. Even now, despite the distance between them. He did once, although it didn’t take. And he tried to again, ten years ago this very day, this very city. That, too, didn’t work.

Dawn had ripped the stone of the necklace Dru was wearing it on, and tossed it over the side of the building after him. The plan was, if they couldn’t use it, then at least they could keep them from using it. Again, no luck. The Juris appeared and snatched it as it fell, tossing it through the swirl of extradimensional energy Willow had summoned. Awestruck by the Juris’s appearance, Dawn let her guard down, and Drusilla lunged for her, nearly killing her, if not for Wesley.

The Juris gazed at Angel, and energy began to radiate from him. As the Angelus personality began to emerge, Angel begged Buffy to stake him, but she couldn’t do it. Perhaps when he was fully Angelus again, Spike figured, but not yet.

Angelus flashed forward in Angel’s mind, and he clocked Buffy with a sucker punch. The Slayer slid across the roof. Giles had already been knocked unconscious in the assault of Drusilla’s army. It took every bit of effort for Willow to hold the doorway open. The plan was going to Hell, and soon Angelus would join the fray, if not for Xander.

Angel begged for Xander to kill him, and Xander looked as though he were inside a nightmare. Wesley turned as Drusilla burst into ashes to watch as Xander, tears streaming down his face, plunged the stake deep into Angel’s heart.

Buffy had been uncomfortable with this plan, this using the gem to eradicate vampires from the face of the Earth. That both himself and Angel concurred with the plan wasn’t enough to sell her on it. “We should have listened," he thought, “should have known that kind of foresight, that insight into whether a plan would work or not, was indeed a gift of her humanity.

“Now,” he thought. “Now we do it right.”

Spike bought the next round.