Title: Malicious Beauty.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.
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.
Contact: Yahoo! - RedemptionBoundSlayer
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.
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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.
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.
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.
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?
-To be continued from Buffy's point of view.