Title: The Good Kind of Wicked
Author: Lint
Part: 1/1
Email: CrashDarby@aol.com
Pairing: Faith/Xander.
Disclaimer: All Buffy folk belong to Joss, Mutant Enemy, and The WB.
Rating: Heavy PG-13
Summary: A different spin of what could have happened during "Consequences."


Their first encounter was a blur.

The actual event itself was a mix of awkwardness, eagerness, and desire. He'd had no time to process what was happening during the event, or anytime shortly afterwards. The most he'd really understood about what had happened was the fact that he'd actually had sex.

He gets flashes sometimes. Brief images and feelings of skin, lips, and cold white sheets. They're not much other than a small reminder that the V he'd once thought burned into his forehead had magically disappeared.

It only lasted minutes. A mere flicker of light on the world's memory screen.

He can't believe it happened again.


There wasn't a single doomsday prophecy in the entire world that could have grabbed his attention this afternoon. He can't focus on anything besides the weird new sensation he feels flowing in his veins. He feels different somehow. Changed. The yellowed pages and leather-bound volumes lying on the table in front of his face served only as props to assure his friends that he was helping with research. He looks around the library. Willow is sitting in front of one of the computers typing away while Buffy is at the top of the stairs fiddling with her crossbow. Giles is in his office on the phone with some old watcher friend. They're all supposed to be researching the new monster that found its way to the hellmouth, which everyone else seems to be doing. He's not. He just stares blankly at the musty old text and watches the letters blur into thick black lines. He's sitting by himself at a table near the book cage and no one notices how oddly quiet he is. He's glad because he doesn't know if he can hold a conversation at the moment. His mind is whirling in endless circles. Half guilt, half elation. It was only two days since he'd been with her again. Two days since he'd felt alive again. If he closes his eyes her can see her.


Giving him a wicked grin, reaching her hand toward his zipper, running her tongue over his lips.

He can see himself pulling her closer, crushing his lips to hers. He has no fear of what he's doing. Hands roaming where they want to go with no worry of being pushed away. She wants this. She wants him.

He knows he shouldn't feel this way about her. Not anymore. Not when she turned on them.

It was all caused by an accident, accidents happen all the time. The only problem was that she didn't care. The real surprise was that he found himself not caring either.


He stares that the door to her room from down in the parking lot. He still has his uncle's car and is leaning against the front of it trying to figure out what he's going to say to her. He thought that he was the one person that could get through to her. After all, he was sure they'd shared something.

He swallows and runs his hand through his hair before heading up the stairs. He still hesitates just outside the door, and he can hear her moving around inside. He knocks.

Her trademark smirk greets him as she moves aside to let him in, and he walks near the bed. He doesn't remember the exact words he was using to try and convince her that she needed help, but he knew the sentiment and feeling behind them were real. He wanted to help her.

She didn't see it that way. She'd accused him of wanting another taste.

He didn't deny that. She was gorgeous, and the way she was standing with her head leaning slightly, hips swaying subtly, he had to swallow the thump in his throat before saying another word. He feels his sincerity dying when he notices the naughty gleam in her eye, the same one she had given him before.

He told her that they had a connection.

She laughed in his face. Told him it was just skin. She sees, she wants, she takes. She forgets.

Then her hands are on his throat.

She starts to squeeze, her strong slayer hands crushing his Adams apple into his windpipe. His teeth clench as he tries to gasp in a breath. She's saying something but he can't hear her. Her eyes are cold and the mischievous look is gone, masked by something that scares him. It's then that he realizes he could have been wrong. That it was just skin and she really had no other use for him. She forces him onto the bed and now he's really struggling for air and the reality that she really is going to kill him begins to sink in. But she suddenly let's him go.

He gasps, and his hands shoot to his neck sucking deep breaths one after the other. When his breathing finally steadies he notices something.

She's still kneeling close to him.

He wants to ask her why she was doing this but any words that may have come are cut off by her mouth clamping over his. Then her hands are under his shirt and she moves her legs so that she's straddling him. She leans forward and grinds her hips into his letting a feral growl escape her throat.

His mind is going in so many directions he can't tell his body to react. He knows that this is dangerous. That she's killed someone and has showed no remorse. Hell, she just tried to kill him and didn't seem the least bit bothered. He doesn't know what to do. He wants to escape about as much as he wants to respond. His confusion is so much he doesn't do anything. If he could manage to throw her off of him, she would end up killing him. He knows she would kill him without a moment's hesitation and it wouldn't bother her a bit. She was changed forever and there wasn't a thing he could do about it. Strange thing was, as her tongue danced deep inside his mouth he didn't seem to care anymore than she did.

"You could refresh my memory," she offers, her voice low and husky.

It's then that he feels something inside himself begin to stir. The confusion lessens as he feels it grow. It's something he hasn't felt since sophomore year during a little possession incident. Something so unlike his usual joking, happy go lucky self. Something dark. His hands grasp her hips firmly and lift her off of him. She inhales sharply, surprised at his sudden strength but doesn't fight him to regain control. She lets him turn the tables on her and lets him think he has her pinned.

His lips are on her neck and his hands are in her pants. She gasps underneath him but he still won't let her get the upper hand. She could so easily throw him off her with slayer strength but he thinks she likes the way he's acting. She moans his name and any thoughts he had of regretting this disappeared as the last vowel left her lips.

She throws his hands off her then pushes him onto his back. His eyes close as her tongue snakes up and down his body. He feels his shirt pried open and his jeans being ripped off. His eyes open and he smiles when he sees her shirt is gone, and rises as his mouth attacks her chest. She growls with pleasure as her hands run through and grip his hair.

He's no longer thinking about consequences, he's not thinking of what everyone would say if they found out. He's no longer thinking at all. He only feels, smells, and tastes her.

He feels himself changing, and he welcomes it with open arms.

Their first time was a blur, but this time he savors every second, every inch, and every kiss.

When he finally enters her, the Xander Harris he knew himself to be ceased to exist.

He has never felt so free.


When he comes back to reality, Willow is standing in front of him. Leaning on his pile of dusty books and repeating his name. She's asking if he's okay when he finally snaps out of it. He almost says five by five. Faith's touched him that much, he feels using her expressions would bring her to him once more.

After another moment he tells Willow he's fine.

"Are you sure Xand?" she asks. "You've been quiet for almost an hour. That's so unlike you."

His eyes are fixated on her hand still resting atop his and he thinks of that last time a girl's hand was touching him. He can't help the memories that flood his mind.

"Is this what you wanted?" she moans into his ear, riding him hard. "Yes, yes Faith. It's what I've always wanted. You're what I've always wanted."

He jerks his hand away from Willow's still feeling Faith's touch burned into his skin. She gives him her concerned face but he smiles, makes a crude joke, does a little spazz movement and acts like the Xander she knew him to be. He did it more for himself than for her. Because right now he's not too sure his is that Xander, the guy who goes through life with a quick wit and even quicker tongue. He doesn't know who he is at all. Still, it seemed to work because she smiled back and wandered over to her computer again.

He looks at everyone now all huddled at one table. Buffy had put down her crossbow and joined in with the research. Giles was knee deep in his own stack of dust collectors, eyes darting back and forth as he read quickly. Buffy looks up from her book, grins at him and teases him for being so quiet. It's not something she's used too.

He's not used to it either. But if he talks too much like he usually does he's afraid something might slip out. He's kept a few secrets in his time, but none were so big as sleeping with the enemy.


They'd faced a lot over the years but this business of Faith being one he didn't want to buy. She was more than that to him. She was something else.

The taste of her suddenly fills his mouth and he realized he needed sugar. Now. He walks quickly to the pink box filled with pastries sitting on top the counter and shoves a glazed donut into his mouth. He barely chews letting the sickly sweet dough surround his tastebuds and wash the flavor of Faith from his mouth.

He shoves another donut into his mouth before sitting down at the table with Giles and Buffy. He wants to be by himself at the other table he was sitting at before, but knows eventually that they would start questioning his silence and avoidance.

He's felt out of place with them before, but never this bad.

He thinks of Faith again and suddenly has the urge for another donut.


She didn't kick him out this time.

When they were finished there were no words exchanged between them. No fumbling for explanations or useless small talk. She just kind of crawled to the top of the bed collapsed onto her side and fell asleep. He lie there staring at the ceiling until he heard her light breathing and sat up to look at her. She looked so peaceful as she slept. Almost innocent. He wasn't sure if he was supposed to leave, or that it would be okay if he stayed. Part of him, the part he knows he's always been wants to grab his clothes and run away as fast as he can. But this other strange new part of himself that still pulsed inside his veins wanted to stay. It hungered for Faith and didn't want to leave her.

So he stayed.

He pulled the sheet over her, curled up next to her, and went to sleep.


His eyes open slowly. He yawns and stretches when he realizes that one, he naked. And two, he's not at home and this isn't his bed.

It all comes back to him in a blinding flash of remembrance.


He looks around the empty room. She was gone, as was all of her stuff. He isn't at all surprised.

He rose from the bed and gathered up his clothes from the floor. His legs ached as he pulled them into his jeans and he noticed small purple bruises along his chest when he went to put his shirt on. Panic began to overwhelm him as he realized there would be evidence of his night of sexual debauchery, but he calmed when he remembered that he rarely ever went shirtless.

He takes one last look around the room. He can still smell her here. He can still feel her lips on him, and her skin pressing against his in a fit of passion. His fingers trace the small contusions on his chest and he smiles.

"Souvenirs," he mumbles.

Faith may being going Dr. Evil on them, but he can't hold it against her. Not when she had shown him that there was something else inside him beside the zeppo everyone else always seemed to see. Something that made him feel like more that just Joe Typical. He whispers a thank you before opening the door and leaving.

The drive home was quiet and quick. He felt the panic creep up again when the realization of what he'd done hit him harder than before. They (meaning his anti-Faith friends) weren't going to find out what happened. He sure as hell wasn't going to tell them, and if Faith just happened to mention it when they crossed paths again, so what? He doubted Buffy and the gang would believe he'd ever gotten a second round with her.

He pulled up to his house with just enough time to shower before having to go to school. While in the bathroom he stared at himself in the mirror, his bare fingers running along the bruises once more. He had sex again. He'd tasted agony and ecstasy, and loved every minute of it. It was almost scary to think that, but then, the truth was a scary thing.


"Do chew with you mouth closed won't you?" Giles asked at Xander's display of open-mouthed eating.

"Needing a sugar fix that bad Xand?" Buffy said eyeing him with a playful grin.

He shrugged his shoulders and went back to reading about how this particular demon hypnotized you with a sense of pure joy, so you never felt it eat your flesh right off your body. The donuts feel heavy in his stomach after reading that. Its Buffy's next words that make him think he's going to be sick.

"I ran into Faith last night," she says aloud.

Willow's chair creaks and she turns to look at the table and he hears her gasp at the rogue slayer's name. Giles looked up from his book in shock and chides Buffy for not mentioning it earlier.

He hopes no one sees just how white his knuckles are as he grips his book tightly at the mention of her name. He fights the flashes that sit on the edge of his brain. Buffy fills everyone in on the previous night's conversation and Faith's current situation.

She's working with the mayor now.

"Moving up in the world," Xander mused to himself.

He's glad the comment went ignored because he's not too sure why there was a glint of pride in it. Faith is evil and needs to be stopped. At least that's what he knows he should be thinking. Still, he wasn't that anxious to do the stopping.

Giles asked if she knew anything about the ascension. She doesn't.

"She did say one weird thing though," Buffy says looking at Xander. "She said to say 'hi' to you."

His eyes bulge at her words and he feels a nervous pit begin to form in his stomach. Giles is clearly confused by this, and the blonde-haired slayer just shrugged her shoulders. Xander had to fight the grin he felt tugging at his lips. It would have been too obvious.

He can see the question forming on her lips as to why Faith would say that to him, but then Angel came walking down from the stacks taking away all of her attention like he usually did. Xander's not happy to see the cursed vampire, he hardly ever is, but is thankful for the distraction he provided.

He breathes a sigh of relief. He'd gotten out of a mesh of questions he knew he had no answers for. Well, no answers anyone would have liked to hear.

Giles went into full watcher mode, telling Buffy what to be on the lookout for besides Faith and the other mayor's minions. The mayor needed several key things into making his ascension into a pure demon successful. If they could prevent anyone of these key things or events from happening it would be a great help in stopping him.

Xander wonders what Faith is wearing tonight.

An hour after more research and a dodged question about the purple mark along the side of his neck, Xander decided to head home. Deadboy was patrolling with Buffy tonight, and Willow volunteered to stay later with Giles and dig up some more information. They didn't ask him to stay, they rarely ever did, but it was okay because he didn't want to in the first place.

He waves good-bye to everyone and walks out the library doors heading down the hallway towards the parking lot.

Once outside he hears something walking instep behind him. Thinking it was a vampire he pulls out the stake he always kept in his jacket pocket. He spins around to see Faith standing behind him.

"Want me to turn to dust cowboy?" she teases.

She's holding a vicious looking knife in her hand but smiling a sweet innocent smile, like she was playing with her favorite toy. His eyes flicker back and forth between her gaze and the blade in her grip.

He knows that Faith won't hurt him. But if he ever let on that he knew that fact she probably would just to prove him wrong.

She tucks the knife into her waistband and moves closer. He is frozen in his place, his mind split in two once again. One half of him wants to run away as far as he can get, while the other wants to tackle her onto the grass and kiss, and lick, and fuck her till they both can't see straight.

His mind is so tired with the constant war it wages with itself over this raven-haired slayer. He doesn't know how to act or how to feel around her. He's no longer himself in her presence, not the person he's always been inside. When's she's near he feels all these urges and temptations he would normally dismiss as outright wrong. She now lives in a world where these urges and temptations are acted on, relished in. He wonders if it is truly so bad to indulge every now and then.

She moves even closer so that their faces are just inches apart. The air feels charged around them. He starts to speak when she kisses him.

The movement of her lips a silent invitation.

It is then, that the confusion stops and his mind is made up.

He knows Faith is bad.

He wants her anyway.